A Meeting One Might Consider Too Early
Peter stood on top of the buildings ledge, toes just barely off the lip of the edge. He stood looking over New York. Over his home, even if it wasn’t the one he recognized more. Where he was now was closer to Hell’s Kitchen rather than his own neighborhood. It would be an adjustment of course. For him and the people of New York, at least he could focus on another area now. It was hard though, knowing that he would be so far away from the people he knew and cared about.
A sigh left him and he left his legs folded under him, sitting on the ledge now rather than standing on it. His elbows rested on his thighs, body slumped over with only his head raised to look out into the night sky. His heart in his throat, nose starting to tingle, eyes growing warm, he felt every step that got him to fully crying. Every little thing felt so big at that moment, and the lack of family sized elephant wasn’t helping.
It had been a few days now since it all happened and Peter was still processing it all. It didn’t feel real. It felt like he should be going back home after patrol and see her. He took in a deep breath but couldn’t, his mask weighing too heavy on him, too thick to breathe. He pulled off his mask to let his lungs fill with fresh air only to come out shuddering and shaking. The cold air nipped at his skin with each lash of wind that hit him. He pulled up his hood to help shield his face from it, but it didn’t help as much as he would have liked. The air was cold, but it wasn’t snowing. At least he can be grateful for that.
He felt like he could feel everything in the universe at that very moment, while simultaneously feeling nothing at all. The air was cold but did he really even feel it? He couldn’t tell. He felt lost. He is lost. Taking in a shaky he raised a hand to wipe away his own tears away. At least he didn’t feel emotionless or empty. At least he knew there was still something in him. If his natural reaction had anything to say about it.
But speaking of feeling the universe. He saw everything too. The lights of the city, his home, even if a newly emptied apartment lights were out. If he looked up he saw the stars. A few but he managed to see them where he sat. He saw the pedestrians and citizens walking around, doing what they could to survive in such a harsh world. He saw a woman take a huff of something in a joint, but honestly felt like he couldn’t move. Plus he was sure he only had enough webfluid to swing back to his new “home”.
He felt weightless with his feet dangling off the edge of the building, his body daring him to scoot closer and closer to feel completely weightless. Soaring. But he knew better than to take that bet. He wasn’t in a good state of mind and he had to recognize that. He did recognize that. Feeling weightless while also remaining grounded was why he also felt the rough stone where he sat, even though his sweaters were incredibly thick.
He wanted to feel more than what he already has, and that’s why he took off his sleeveless hoodie that was over his blue sweatshirt. Cold starting to penetrate through. It also wasn’t like anyone else was going to come up here, so he freed his wrists from his shooters. They are one of the big spots on your body that regulate body temperature so it only made sense. He was cold, but it was something else now. It was a distraction. So he didn’t have to look at reality for a bit longer. Finally he pulled off his gloves, now being left in his blue sweats and long red socks which he pushed down to scrunch up. Balling up his shooters in the cloth he pushed it over to rest under the rooftops lip.
Leaning his head back Peter let out a deep sigh that came from within. It was as if he was exhaling all the bad things in his life and he was just sort of left as an empty husk. He looked up to see stars that weren’t visible anymore. He let out a more saddened sigh, the weight of everything crushing him immensely. The ability to breathe was taken from right under his nose. All from something so small. From a lack of distraction. His next breath was shaky and unsteady; he had to clutch at his chest softly to release it out into the world.
That’s when he heard it. The distant sound of footsteps approaching, but unfortunately he was so engrossed in his current situation that he only barely noticed the sound when it was right next to the door. Some weird sense buzzed wildly for just a split second, the hairs of his arms raising. Then the door busted open. Revealing a large man pushing a delivery boy back into the door with a box and further across the roof, Peter had no time to focus on the details except that, he just took off his shooters. There he goes again. Another moment, another person gone because he couldn’t be the right version of himself in time.
The scrawny delivery boy was in tears as he screamed, “Please! Please, I am so sorry! I-I didn’t mean,” The larger man seemed to yell right back at him, calm but sarcastic all in one, “Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean to stalk an innocent girl Sir Shit-Your-Pants? Didn’t mean for her to spend some babysitting money on hiring me to find you? What didn’t you mean?” The boy went into hysterics as he was practically pushed to stand close to the edge. Large man holding the box smiled, “But you can just say that you’ll stop and leave her alone? Right? I have a soft spot for kids and you can just barely be considered on that list.” The boy nodded, “Yes! Yeah, I’ll leave her alone and, and not look her up anymore.”
There was a pause. A long one at that and the man chuckled and smiled, “See? That’s all you needed to say!” “Yeah?” “Yeah!” The two started to chuckle in some awkward manner which grew into something that was basically hysterical laughter. Tension easing. That was until the box was dropped and the boy was picked up and held over the edge of the building, “Serious you little shit McGee,” The man's voice dropped three octaves as his tone became deadly, “I see you again you rat and next time I won’t be so considerate. So leave little Mehgan alone or daddy is coming to find you. You want that?” The boy stammered over a no as he pissed himself, tears streaming down his face, “Good.” Suddenly he was unceremoniously thrown down onto the roof. Scrambling to run away while heaving.
Holy shit.
Peter isn’t entirely sure he’s seen something as domestic and strange as that before, and that says something. At this point he was staring at the potential murderer with tears in his eyes as the potential murderer looked back, pizza box having been picked up and now in his hands. A silence settled over the two. Carefully the other seemed to step closer to him. Small and steady it seemed. Peter refused to move. Refused to show weakness.
”So sorry,” his voice was now much softer, careful almost, “I didn’t realize I was going to be scarring a child today.” His voice fell off before clearing it, “Well I got pizza for the occasion, want a slice? Wait, no, it’s okay if your parents re-enforced stranger danger into you as a kid. Understandable.” He continued as if he could hold an entire conversation by himself, which Peter wasn’t sure if he could doubt. Even still, the other kept his distance and was careful in case Peter was as fragile as glass, “So what’s a kid like you sitting on the edge of a roof tonight?
Oh. Oh, to this stranger Peter looks just about ready to jump. It doesn’t help that he has intense bags under his eyes that could rival the man who stayed up the longest in history, or a new mother. Peter cleared his throat, “Oh, uh,” his voice was just barely there, so not helping his case, “I just, really needed some fresh air,” his voice trailed off weakly as he looked down at the rooftop. Needing something else to focus on he sputtered out a small, “What toppings are on it?” Because yeah, stranger danger, but he can’t remember a time he was truly full after the bite.
The man nodded and came closer, as if the answer was correct, “Well before I say you should ask what my name is. Here, I’ll do it for you, ‘Heyya sir, what might be your name?’ Ah well, thank you for asking, my name is Wade Wilson.” Peter let out a tense chuckle, “Also It’s pineapple and olive.” Peter couldn’t help letting out a surprised, “It’s what?” Finally able to truly get a look at the guy with his large eyes, “Don’t knock it until you try it kid.”
Finally he managed to take a seat next to him, offering him with an open box which Peter politely declined for obvious reasons. Now Peter got a good look at him. The short hair, nice jawline, the muscles, the eyes, the golden girls shirt accompanied by a brown jacket. Peter sighed and bit the inside of his cheek, “I,” he paused, “I promise that this is not what it looks like. I really did just need some fresh air.” He explained. Wade nodded some, “I get that, but do your parents know where you are?” he asked. Even though this Wade character didn’t know it stabbed Peter in the heart because no. They were dead. So were his grandparents. So was his uncle. So was his aunt.
Peter grit his teeth and shook his head, “No, no. I’m actually in foster care so, no big one or two baddies to return to. Just the government.” Wade nodded, this time as if he understood that just a bit more, “Ah, sorry to bring that up then.” Silence fell onto the silence and slowly Peter let his eyes close as he gripped the edge of the roof, “Uhm, what were you, just…” Another pause before, “Oh! I got a job. Jeremey over there was stalking a girl named Mehgan. She tried to pay me to deal with him, but I just couldn’t.” He shrugged.
Peter opened his eyes to look at him confused and hopeful that it wouldn’t make Wade someone he had to throw to the police, “Pay you? As in,” Wade cut him off and shook his head, “No. No. I was a bodyguard and bouncer. She just managed to catch onto that and tracked me down for it.” This time Peter was the one to nod. Thankful that Wade wasn’t like that. Scratching his arm lightly his stomach decided to turn against him and growled loud and pitifully. Causing Wade to glance at him. That’s right. Sweet spots.
“Are you sure that you don’t want any pizza kid? Gooey, warm, and incredibly cheesy goodness for the public's consumption?” This time he answered with a, “Yeah. Yeah that would be nice. Thanks.” He carefully chose the slice with the least amount of toppings before taking a bite out of the greasiest thing that the world could possibly offer. Any time an olive or chunk of pineapple managed to get in his way he managed to flick it off and continue eating as the man took a seat next to him. Both just eating in silence, other than the white noise of the city.
As time went on and he finished his slice Wade didn’t seem to mind offering him another slice, and another, and another. Unbeknownst to Peter Wade barely ate on the pizza for whatever reason there was, but it was nice for him. His super metabolism had eaten through his dinner so the snack was good on the boy's stomach. By the time he had started to slow down was roughly the same time that Wade finally piped up, knowing it wouldn’t distract him, “So how are things going in your own world?” He asked, understandable though. He just found a random foster kid, sitting on the edge of a roof, who ate most of a pizza like it was nothing, and was crying. Peter really didn’t feel like he could blame the guy for it.
He cleared his throat and swallowed the piece in his mouth, “Well, I mean,” Peter was already trailing off before his sentence even began; Wade didn’t seem to mind though. Patience intact and being quiet for Peter to collect his thoughts. He had to admit though, he didn’t want to bombard Wade with his life story, or his dead family, or being displaced, so he just did what every other human on the planet did. He shrugged softly and turned to face what was in front of him, the other buildings along with the rest of the city to avoid looking at him, “Well I mean, it could be better but everything is fine.
That’s when Peter felt it again. That itch on his arm, the pain in his chest, the burn in his throat as pressure built up behind his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek to distract him from it all, but his hand couldn’t help but travel up to scratch at the surface of his skin. Unable to even let out a deep and shaky sigh in worry that Wade would pick up on it. How old was this guy? He feels like he should feel like he is in more danger than he does. To be completely honest he’s pretty sure that this isn’t normal. To feel this safe around a stranger who could very well put up a decent fight, or completely obliterate him as Peter Parker.
But he was calm. Nodding at the response that Peter gave him, secretly knowing that his shit has officially hit the fan for this young kid, but also knowing that he isn’t the one who should bring it up. No, instead he looked ahead and away from Peter as well, “Yeah, I get that.” Wade couldn’t help but in this moment feel so out of place, out of his normal self in the situation. Sure he helped kids ready to jump, pulled them to hospitals to talk and find a place that would help, but hasn’t really ran across a kid looking ready to jump but wasn’t going to. A kid just simply going through it in the worst place possible.
”I hope you enjoyed the pizza kid. You can have it if you want.” Peter thought for a moment before shaking his head, “No, no it’s okay Sir. You bought it and I just sort of, you know, tagged along in its consumption.” Wade chuckled and set the box on the roof beside Peter, “I insist, and my God, please do not call me Sir. I would much rather be called Mr. Unicorn lover than Sir. Makes me feel old.” Peter couldn’t help but chuckle himself at the self given name. That was also the same time that he paused for a second to check the time, and well, it was late. Way past bedtime for any teenager, and that said something.
With a small grave voice he cleared his throat, “I should get going, it’s pretty late.” He mumbled and he moved to stand up. Jumping up so his feet stood on the lip of the roof then stepped back to land on his feet. This significantly freaked Wade out because the kid looked like he was going to fall the wrong way. But with a soft sigh he knew that the kid didn’t, with a quick glance Wade spoke up, “Don’t forget the pizza, I don’t really have the appetite for it right now.” With a beat of silence and Peter doing a back and forth with his thoughts he leaned over to pick up the box, “Uh thank you.” Wade offered him the friendliest smile he could, “No problem kid. Now go get some sleep, while I go find a hot date.”
With that Peter finally ran off, box in hand. With that Peter left a man who for once felt a need to help the poor kid out because he just so obviously needed it. He didn’t know how to feel about him either, all he knew was that he saw the slightest bit of his younger self in him, and man did he need help as a kid so he could only imagine what help Peter needed.
Peter though quickly made it out of Wade’s sight before he slowed down. Eating the pizza on the way back to the care center. As he got closer he tossed the box away in a dumpster. Walking he got a gage at how bad this side of town was. Not the best place for a foster care center, but this is New York what else was he really going to expect. Each building he passed there was either, yelling, a drug deal, or something else that might be illegal.
Soon he was back in his room. Back in his sleep clothes. Back in the unfamiliar bed. He couldn’t help but hate it, but he knew he had to just get used to it. Even if it hurts. Peaking back out the window he sighed, noticing as the sky slowly started to make its way into a lighter hue. With a deep sigh he closed his eyes in hope for a better day to come, while an older man speaks to his girlfriend about a boy he found, and how he hopes he stays safe.