Stand By Me

Peter was happy for once. Actually, genuinely happy. He walked with lighter steps and even greeted anyone he made eye contact with. A soft grin never leaving his face. Earlier that week Dr. Banner called Peter to inform him of progress on his case. They were still looking for ways to help him transition, and they might have caught a break. Even though it wasn't a for sure thing Peter was bubbling with excitement. He spent each day of the week full of hope, waiting for the weekend so that he could meet up with Dr. Banner at Stark tower.

He practically skipped from the Daily Bugle to Stark Tower, feeling fully rested despite the dark circles under his eyes. His good mood carried with him on his nightly shifts as Spiderman. Slanging witty remarks and giving a few victory dances as he defeated crime. It was almost like he was his old self again. With a deep breath he strolled into Stark Tower, greeted by the man behind the desk slid his guest pass over to him. Peter gave a causal solute as he picked it up and took long strides to the elevator.

"Good evening Mr. Parker, Dr. Banner has been expecting you," a soft voice greets as the doors closed.

"Hey Jarvis," the young man beamed, "ask him to meet me in the lab?"

"Right away sir," the AI complied.

"Thanks J," he chirped just as the doors opened to Tony's shiny high tech lab. Stark himself was seated inside hunched over what looked like a gauntlet from his suit. "Hey Tony," Peter waved setting his messenger bag down on an empty stool. The man barely gave him a wave too indulged in his work. Translucent blue charts and equations floating in front of him.

Peter peered over his shoulder at the problem before writing out the answer in the air. The movement was caught and registered into the holographic board. It seemed to work because all of his charts shifted giving them more positive results.

Tong turned around like he was going to say something but before he could Bruce Banner walked in. Peter didn't even wait for him to take a seat before he was bombarding him with questions.

"So you found a solution? Was it the drug? More testosterone? My DNA?"

"Slow down Peter," Banner chuckled sitting at his end of the lab. There wasn't any set area for anyone. The lab was a mess of engineering tech and paperwork. Both of their works tossed together in chaos but they still managed to hollow out specific areas for themselves.

"It's a chemical solution that might keep the changes permanent. I honestly can't say it'll work but it worked well with your blood. I'd like to take another sample to be sure." Peter was rolling up his sleeve before he could finish.

Banner got to work, he had set things up before Peter arrived so the process was fairly quick. Peter watched as Banner filled three separate viles. Each one going towards different tests. Noting the younger man's giddiness Banner offered up some small talk. He asked how school was going and if things at the Bugle were getting any better. Peter shared the bare minimum. He didn't like talking about things at home too much. He already received so much of their help he didn't want to let them know how it really was. He felt he'd be in even bigger debt then he already was.

So he talked about his most recent projects at the Bugle, the cute girl he was partnered with in chemistry, the man he talked to at the laundryman. Banner tried to drag out the conversation but halfway through his tests Peter went back to anxiously watching him work. "How's it going so far?"

"The same as before, it's working but I still don't know for how long." The older man sat back giving him a lopsided smile.

"It's the same as the testosterone right? I'll have to take injections every month?"

"It would have to be every week," Banner said turning back to one of the machines. "This effects your healing factor Peter. Whatever injuries you get while on this would heal just as slowly if not slower. If it's bad enough you'll have to stop taking the injection which means..."

"Everything goes back," Peter muttered slouching in his chair.

"It's in the beginning stages," the doctor assured. "I'm still looking for a way to fix it into a topical ointment. It’d be safest that way.”

Peter nodded, "right."

"I'll keep you updated on these, you can head out if you want."

Peter got up from his chair and grabbed his bag, "thanks for helping me out Bruce." The doctor waved him goodbye still focused on the task at hand. "See ya Tony."

"Later kid."

Even though he hadn't received bad news Peter still felt his earlier excitement fade. His bag felt heavier, he dragged his feet, and he didn't make eye contact with anyone as he made his way back home. He kept reminding himself it wasn't bad, that he had to wait years before they found a testosterone solution that worked for him. That waiting was a big part of transitioning. That there was still a chance of finding something that would work.

With every reminder had his hands clenched tighter onto his bag. Tears of frustration threatening to spill at any second as he waded through the crowd. He just had to wait. But that was the worst part wasn't it? All this time he was waiting. All these years stuck waiting. He didn't' want to wait anymore. It felt as if there was so much time already wasted. So much time he wished he could have back.

Peter clenched his jaw and tightened his bag over his shoulder, taking longer strides to his loft. He shoved his way past people with muttered apologies, forcing his tears back until he go to his room. He threw everything aside, chucking off his shoes. Throwing open the closet doors he reached into the box for his suit. It took him a few short seconds to change.

He was soaring over the city before he even realized it. The feel of the air through the suit was liberating. It managed to distract him for a while. He wasn't going anywhere specific direction. He was focused on swinging his body trying to cut through the air as fast as he could. He was in a completely different part of the city when he finally stopped for a break, skidding to a stop on an apartment building. He wasn't sure where he was, taking a look over the edge he noticed it wasn't such a great neighborhood.

He took a seat tugging his mask over his nose he sighed. He didn't feel as frustrated anymore. And being in his suit helped with the dysphoria. There was still a feeling of helplessness and irritation set deep in his chest but he knew it would go away after fighting some crime. He just had to calm down. There was no way he was going to run into so distracted. He hunched over, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. It was quieter in this part of town so thankfully.

"Yoohoo! Spiderman!"

Well, it was quiet.

Slowly Peter looked up to find Deadpool climbing over the ledge. He pulled his mask down and stood, "I'm not in the mood Deadpool."

"Don't wanna fight crime? Alright, how bout some grub? I know this awesome pancake house-"

"I'm not in the mood," Peter snapped turning to the closest building.

"Whoa, chill. You okay Spidey? Did you forget to eat again-"

"Shut up," Peter growled whirling around. "How about you mind your own business. I'm not your friend or your partner. I don't need your help and I don't want it. Stop bothering me. Stop showing up, stop talking to me. Just leave. Me. Alone." He hadn't meant to snap. But as the words began tumbling out of his mouth he couldn't stop them. He was just so angry.

The mercenary was standing there in complete silence. And the longer they stood there the more guilt Peter felt. "Welp," the older man said with a clap of his hands. "You've obviously got something going on so I'm gonna," he pointed to the fire escape.

Peter's shoulders sagged as he watched the merc turn around. He really shouldn't have snapped at him, especially when he was doing so well. Peter knew he was trying his best. "Deadpool," he muttered taking a few step toward him.

"No, it's fine. I won't bug you, haha, bug." He cleared his throat, "For real I won't bother you anymore-"

"I'm sorry," if he wasn't wearing a mask Peter would have run a hand through his hair. "I...I didn't mean...I was just...mad. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I'm sorry."

Deadpool was halfway down the ledge staring at Peter slack jawed. They stood in another silence. Peter awkwardly gripped his left arm clearing his throat. That seemed to kick Deadpool back into gear, "no, I uh, I get it. Everyone has those days." He waved his hand, "already forgave ya."

Peter sighed, shoulders lowering yet again. The merc took notice of just how exhausted the younger man looked. "I...I really haven't...eaten yet. Pancakes right? Pancakes. On me," he had just gotten paid and he was feeling bad for snapping at him.

Deadpool was gripping the bars on the fire escape bouncing like a kid on a sugar rush. "Yeah! Pancakes! I know just the place," he leaned back. His arms stretched out still holding the bars. "It's kinda far. Can I get a Spider ride?"

"No," the younger answered automatically, following him down the fire escape.

"Every party needs a pooper," Deadpool sang. "Don't worry I know a guy." About halfway down he put a phone between his ear and shoulder talking rapidly to someone about a ride. Walking out of the alley Peter realized he was actually pretty far from his place. He wondered how long he was swinging around for.

"How did you even find me," Peter muttered rubbing the back of his neck.

"I was 'bout to ask you the same thing! I live around here," Deadpool laughed.

"Oh," he took a look around, vaguely remembering the street names. A minute later a taxi came screeching to a hault in front of them. Deadpool opened the door for Peter before sliding into the front seat. He and the driver were long time friends, Peter found out. The pancake house was closer to Peter's house thankfully. He was more familiar with his surroundings. When they entered the hostess greeted them with a smile.

"Deadpool! It's been a while."

"Hey Sarah," he leaned on the podium. "Brought a friend with me so you guys better make a good impression."

Sarah was a pretty petite girl with blond hair pulled up in a ponytail. "Spiderman, it's our pleasure to have you here today."

"Um....thanks?"

Deadpool laughed, "ain't he the cutest. We want everything on the menu, corner booth."

"Everything," Peter choked.

"Right this way," Sarah said with a bright smile. There were a few people scattered around the diner, some of them stared at the costumed men as they took their seats. "What can I get you guys to drink," Sarah asked stuffing her hands into the front pocket of her apron for a box of crayons, setting a kids menu in front of the older man. She had a naturally warm personality that put Peter at ease.

"The usual," Deadpool said opening the box of crayons.

"Coffee," Peter answered almost immediately. She nodded and made off to the big window that looked in on the kitchen.

"Coffee at this hour," Deadpool questioned while scribbling all over the menu.

"My brain needs it's fast juice."

The merc cackled, muttering 'I love that show' before starting an animated story on how he got so well aquainted here. He saved the owner's daughter and her friend (Sarah) from a human trafficking situation. Wade was already working on the case when he stumbled upon the girls mid-kinapping. He was able to save them and about a dozen others that night.

"And I didn't kill not one person. Maim? Yes. But kill? Not a soul! Hand delivered them to the cops! It was awesome! For like two seconds. Then the cops tried arresting me and shit went downhill from there."

Peter chuckled, Sarah had delivered at least half the menu by then. Deadpool insisted he tried everything so they ended up arranging the plates so that they were both able to eat from any one of them. It was surprisingly easy for Peter to talk to him, considering he hadn't spent much time conversing with people. Then again he was sure anyone could find themselves in a conversation with Deadpool. He talked nonstop, about anything and everything. There were no breaks and everything somehow shifted to a new topic smoothly making it easier for Peter to keep up. He looked up when Sarah refilled his second cup of coffee noticing the merc had a hand over his mouth.

He figured it was because he was talking and didn't want food flying everywhere. But now that he noticed Peter realized he was hiding his chin. Behind his hand, a menu, his glass of strawberry milk. His mask was pulled just above his top lip. Peter wondered how he managed to breath. But he understood it was some kind of boarder and he could respect that. He made sure to keep his face tilted away anytime the merc switched barriers. Picking up the conversation to distract them both from the small movement.

When they were done Peter felt as if the slightest move would make him explode pancakes. He rested his head back on the booth with a groan. Deadpool had somehow managed to keep going. Cleaning the rest of the plates. The spider was glad to let him, instead enjoying the feeling of a full stomach. And the company that Deadpool granted. It let Peter forget things for a while. "Thanks Deadpool. I uh, I really needed this."

The merc had his masked pulled back down but Peter could still the crinkles of a grin underneath it. "Anytime Spiderbabe!" Peter snorted, glancing across the diner at an old Elvis themed clock. It was still pretty early, he figured he'd patrol for an hour or so before going home.

"I'm about to start my shift," he announced sliding to the end of the booth. Deadpool stayed where he was at, picking at some syrup stuck to his mask. "You wanna come with me?"

There was that grin again. "Heck yes I do!"