Chapter 2
Peter walks back into his kitchen after changing, and inspects the skull. There's a large chunk missing, and a huge crack in the back from what Peter assumes was the impact of him hitting the dumpster. Peter uses a rag wet with warm water to clean off the residual dirt and grime, and watches in mild amazement as the fracture stitches itself back together. When he sets the skull down, he can see the brain already reforming and the missing chunks growing back. Peter again makes sure the skull is set comfortably on a pillow and nearby blankets before beginning to make himself food. He's low on money and just about everything in general, so he concocts a sandwich and bites into it, sitting up on the counter across from the skull.
Peter hums softly under his breath, finishing his sandwich and beginning to do the dishes. He glances at the skull, expecting it to be half done by now. It's been two hours, but the skull looks almost the exact same as it did earlier. Peter figures maybe full-blown body destruction takes longer, and once he's done with the dishes he takes the skull and plops it down on his couch gently. He turns on the TV and watches some Princess Bride, whispering some of the words under his breath. Once it's done, he puts in another movie and pulls his laptop to him so he can do a little research on Deadpool.
It's at around 3 AM when Peter, half asleep, realizes he should call Wolverine and question him about what could help make regenerating more comfortable. At this point, his insomnia-ridden, sleep-deprived mind takes a sudden turn for the worse and he calls Wolverine without a second thought. The phone rings for a bit while Peter figures out a convincing story to explain why he's suddenly asking Wolverine questions about regeneration and how comfortable it might be. Also, how to make it more comfortable. Peter wonders if Wolverine will regret giving him his number.
"Why the fuck are you callin' at three in the fucking morning, kid?" comes the hostile response.
"Oh, hello Mr. Wolverine, hey I was wondering if you'll answer some questions for me? They're kinda weird and I need them now..."
"What the fuck?" Wolverine grumbles in irritation. "What could be so damn important?"
"So, theoretically, if you got exploded or acid-ed or whatever to the point where you only had your skull semi-intact, what are some tips on how to make you or someone else more comfortable during the whole regeneration/healing process?"
"What?"
"Okay, so, I have this friend and she has this other friend who's related to this one guy who has this one friend who kinda got exploded and he also has a healing factor and she wants me to ask you and then relay to her so she can tell her other friend who's related to—"
"Shut up, I get it. Some tips. Baths feel nice. Music. Talk to them. Keep them warm. Lay them down once their head starts regenerating. Feed them some soup. Lots of food—regeneration like that is exhausting and makes me very hungry. Stuff like that. That good enough?"
"Yup, thanks Mr. Wolverine!" Peter chirps, hanging up. He looks over at the skull as he can vaguely hear a brain booting up. He takes the head back to the counter and makes sure it's comfortable again before turning on some quiet music. Then he heads to sleep on his couch, since there is no bedroom in his apartment.
Wade is awake. He's not dead anymore. He can't see, or hear, or feel, and half of his brain is dedicated solely to healing itself, but he is awake. Wade wonders where he's going to wake up this time. A dumpster, maybe? Except, he could totally envision just waking up in some box in the bottom of the ocean. Maybe he'll kill some poor animal with his regeneration by forming in its stomach.
[Maybe, you'll get shitted out] Yellow supplies with malicious glee.
[No, more likely a dumpster] White argues.
[No, shitted]
[Dumpster]
Shut up Wade supplies.
Peter wakes up feeling tired but better than normal. When he walks into his kitchen, he sees that there has been some development on the skull. It now has a thin layer of muscles and tissue. Peter figures when he comes back, they'll be fully formed. Peter leaves on the music as he heads into his bathroom. He puts in his contacts, which helps dull his sense of sight. He brushes his teeth and takes a shower. Then he finds his clothes—made of a very specific material so as not to harm his overly sensitive skin—and pulls them on. He finds his hearing aids, slipping them on as well, then makes sure his suit is shrunk into a spider droid, something he'd made a while ago, but that he only ever got it to shrink if he wasn't wearing it. He also grabs his duffel bag.
Peter then finds his camera and hard drive, making sure to put them on his person. He puts sunscreen on, then he brushes his hair. After that, he grabs his keys and turns to face Deadpool's skull, which just barely shows slightly more muscle than before. He smiles and waves at it, then slips on his shoes and opens the door, making sure the music is still on and the skull is comfortable before leaving.
Peter hops on his bike, pedaling towards Stark Tower. His hand itches against the bike handle, and he mentally reminds himself to change them for the fiftieth time. Peter is always making weird things to accommodate for his enhanced senses—like how he had to go through hundreds of apartments just to find one with soundproof walls; or how he buys everything in a specific set of colors and patterns so as not to strain his eyes; or how every piece of fabric he buys is a specific type; or how he has to make everything he wears because only very specific types of fabric won’t hurt his skin; or how, before that, he used to make lotions—but the lotions never worked (But he did find out they were good for soothing rash-related pains). He’d also made eye drops, but they only really help him when he has to keep his eyes open for long periods of time. He'd also made a spray to put on his ears, but that just made his ears burn. The things he uses now tend to work, though, so although he's still experimenting a little with different things, he's pretty content.
Once he arrives at Stark Tower, he pedals into a staff entrance to the tower where he locks his bike in with his keys. Then he heads to the elevator to get to the lab where his job actually takes place. Well, actually, it's an internship, but still.
Once he walks in, he knows immediately something is wrong or an opportunity has arisen. He gets an answer for why everyone is frantically working at their independent stations when he looks up at the holographic screen explaining Mr. Stark needs a new adhesive, and ASAP, which must be organic, strong, and dissolvable with a certain solution (Along with a list of, like, fifty other specifications). It also explains that he could make his own, but whoever gives Stark the best one will get to work with him and Dr. Banner up in their lab. Stark always leaves little things like this about once a month, but never has it ever offered someone the chance to work with him and Dr. Banner. Peter is immediately interested. He's even happy to know that he might actually win.
Peter goes to his labspace, looking around the room. He finds that very few people are working with animals or insects, just plants, so he asks JARVIS quietly if they have any spiders.
JARVIS asks for a species.
He says he needs spiders in the Caerostris darwini and Hexatheloidea and Hyptiotes categories, which are spiders he uses for examples in his own web fluid (He has significantly less species than Stark).
Immediately, multiple tanks are set up near his desk. He admires the fact that Stark's collection of spiders is huge, and works on the adhesive. It doesn't take him long—he's already made something similar—but he needs to alter it considerably to fit Stark's parameters. Peter also has to make sure it can't be compared to his own web fluid too much, but when he's done, he's pretty satisfied. He runs some tests on the adhesive, before submitting it. Then he works on his own web fluid, keeping it different from the adhesive he's turned in, taking advantage of the fact he has more spiders to work with. He's unconcerned about the spiders’ venom, since he knows it can’t harm him.
When Peter's lunch break rolls around, he goes downstairs to the cafeteria to find some food. He eats pretty quickly, taking the rest of his lunch while charging his phone as he makes alterations on his suit via the phone’s design app. When his lunch is over, he stops working on his webbing fluid and begins making some cloth with the spider silk for fun, trying to see if he can make one that won't burn his skin. He also edits his pictures for the Daily Bugle.
Wade's muscles and tissue burn because they're drying out and being touched by the various dust particles, but they are more important than skin, so he can't do anything about it. He can just barely begin to hear, and faint music trickles in, although his hearing is so low he thinks he might be imagining it. His eyes have started to form, but he can't see yet. His nose still isn't there, and he wonders where he is again. The boxes have gone silent for a bit, and he knows that even after his eyes and ears and nose have formed, his muscles will still be bare to the world. His skin is one of the last things to form.
Wade feels calm for the most part, but a little tense. He doesn't know where he'll wake up, and his memory is fucking with him. He can't remember a lot. He barely remembers anything, and his memories keep disappearing and reappearing. He's pretty sure that's normal. Wade is still trying to figure out where he is, because he's pretty sure he can feel a pillow or a blanket or something. He appreciates the gesture, but it burns his skinless head. Wade aches form the constant growing.
Peter is pretty sure all the interns around him have turned in their adhesives. He's amazed so many people can finish something in a day like that. He's sure he probably would have taken the same time frame even if he didn't already have a base for the adhesives, but he's not sure.
Peter finishes the cloth. It's nice, actually, but not something he can wear normally. It retains moisture very well and is very, very soft. It's also thick and blocks out dust particles. Unfortunately, it's really hard to wash because of the moisture retaining qualities, and can't be dried because that causes it to fall apart. Peter folds it up neatly anyway, and packs it up to be taken home. He's a bit of a hoarder when it comes to his projects, thinking he might be able to build from them or use them for something.
Peter yawns to himself as he checks the clock. There's ten minutes left until he can leave. Peter manages to stuff as many web samples as he possibly can into his duffel bag. The elevator door dings and he disregards it.
"Entering: Tony Stark," JARVIS' voice filters in.
Peter doesn't register it as he continues with his bag-stuffing. He does note the room has gone unusually silent, but he doesn't think it's too important.
"Are you trying to smuggle spiders in there?" a voice asks.
"Hm, no, I would love to but unfortunately I don't have enough money to keep spiders alive at home. I just want the web samples because my friend's sister's brother has this skin condition and I wanna see if I can make some fabric with it," Peter half lies.
"So you work with spiders often, then?"
"Well, yeah, I'd say so. Spiders are really nice. I like working with their webs, but I've used their toxins for a few things."
"Like what?"
"Why are you asking me—?" Peter freezes once he looks up, coming face to face with Tony Fucking Stark. His breath hitches and his eyes widen. "Holy shit—Holy shit—"
"There's the reaction," Tony says, smirk lighting up his features. "And here I thought you were immune to my charms. I knew it was impossible."
"Holy shit," Peter repeats, before realization strikes him. “Did I just admit to smuggling web samples from you to you? Fuck, I did."
"No worries, Kid. You're gonna be working upstairs with me and the Big Guy from now on, so take as much as you want."
"Oh, thanks," Peter replies, before the words hit him full force. "Wait—What?"
Peter comes home, giddy expression on his face as he kicks off his shoes and drops his duffel bag. When he walks into his kitchen, however, his mood drops. Deadpool's head has most of its muscle and tissue developed, but it's dry and cracked. It looks majorly irritated. He's also got half-formed ears and eyes, which Peter notes as progress; however, he's concerned about the dry muscle, so he uses his scientist brain to figure out a solution. He goes over to his duffel bag, pulling out the cloth he had made earlier. He runs water over it before squeezing it all out, leaving it wet but not dripping. He dabs the head until it looks significantly less dry and painful looking, before wringing it out again and unfolding it. He lays it over the head, pressing it against the muscle and tissue. The cloth is just sticky enough to cling to it, and transparent enough for Peter to monitor and make sure that the cloth doesn't get dry and dry out the head.
"I don't know if you can hear me," Peter confides, "but, um, I hope you feel better. That looked really painful. I'll check up to make sure it's still moist enough before I go to sleep. I have to go again, though, so, stay safe?"
Peter then goes to his room (Which is just a corner of the living room) and unpacks his duffel bag before removing his contacts and hearing aids in favor of slipping on his suit.
Wade hears a door open. He's got developed enough ears to hear the music now. It's soothing and hazy, but it's a nice sound. He hears footsteps and wonders again where he is. He's terrified he's in another lab. There's the faint sound of water running before he feels a cool pressure on his dry head. He wishes he could sigh in relief as the person slowly relieves the dry, tight feeling. The cloth is placed over his head and the feeling stays. It hurts significantly less, and tingles slightly. There's someone speaking to him, but he can't properly hear what their saying. He wishes he could say thank you.
[They’re just buttering you up,]Yellow states, [When you get eyes, you'll be inside a fucking tank.]
[Maybe you're just the person's science project!]White supplies.
[That's stupid. Who would even let a kid submit us a science project?] Yellow questions.
[Well, it's not like we're invalid! We'd be an F, though.]
Shut up, Wade grumbles mentally, I'd be a D-, at least.
[Think this person has tacos?] White asks curiously.
[Probably not, because we're in a fucking tank.]