When Peter walked into the apartment, Wade was perched on the couch, tapping his leg on the floor nervously. His eyes were fixed on the TV and he was mumbling something under his breath. As Peter got closer, he could hear the words were Bea Arthur. Peter couldn't help but smile; Wade's immortal infatuation with the actress never ceased to be amusing or adorable. He never had the heart to tell Wade she had died. He knew it would break him, and if Peter sat next to Wade, curious what contest this time Wade wanted his precious Bea to win. He got kind of caught up with the nervous anticipation on Wade's face, and before he could turn around to the TV, he heard the presented shout, "Peter Capaldi!"
"No, Bea Arthur!" Wade yelled in outrage. "Bea Arthur! What even is this shit! Those undeserving stuck-up tea-drinkers! She even said London was her favorite city! And this is how they repay her?! Oh, I am livid! Where's my gun, I'm gonna shoot that British chick! I bet she's the mastermind behind the international con that bereft my sweet, perfect Bea of her rightful title!"
"Wade, calm down," Peter chuckled. "You can't just go to England and kill a TV presenter, she's just doing her job. She's not some evil genius, trust me."
"You're right. I need to call Weasel. I need him to find the people responsible. Then I can go to England and execute my righteous revenge. Until then I'll just have to settle on shooting the TV. Where's that goddamn gun!"
"No! No shooting in the house! Especially not the TV. I can't afford a new one."
"So I will buy you a new one! I need to shoot something, Peter, or I will cry! And no one wants to see me cry, it's ugly! I'm in so much pain, Peter! Why did they choose some old ugly fart for the next Doctor! Why not Bea?!"
Peter bit his lips not to laugh. Wade was so upset over a lead role of a show he never even watched it was in equal measures comical and heartbreaking. Peter forced himself to stifle the urge to laugh and rubbed circles in Wade's hunched back when he hid his face in his hands. Wade let out a long suffering sigh and turned his head to look at Peter with eyes that only a truly betrayed man could have.
"Is it because she's American? Because that's racists! Or is it because she's a woman? Because let me tell you, she fought in WWII! She was a fucking marine!"
"No, Wade, it's not that," Peter sighed. He leaned in to kiss Wade's shoulder and pet his head. He felt so sorry for Wade he couldn't stand seeing him like that; he wanted to put him out of his misery. "Bea won't be the next Doctor because she's de-"
Peter had to cut his sentence short, because Wade him that look – the one that said Wade thought Peter had all the answers. It made Peter cringe inwardly because he couldn't believe he was about to kill the last one of Wade's dreams. That man loved Bea Arthur. He loved her with love so pure and strong it sometimes overwhelmed Peter. Especially when he considered that Wade seemed not to be aware that time had passed, like it always passed, and she was no longer alive. But Wade was special like that, and Peter loved that about him. Why would he want to take that away from him? How could he?
Peter smiled and kissed the top of Wade's nose, putting his arms around his shoulders and wriggling them both to lie on the couch, comfortably wrapped around each other. "She's decided not to audition for the role."
"But why?" Wade whined, never thinking of questioning Peter's words. He tightened his hold around Peter's waist and whimpered pathetically. "I know she's way too good for some silly show about aliens but… She would be the best Doctor ever…"
"I know, Wade, I know."
Peter snuggled closer, as close as he physically could without pushing both of them off the couch, and hoped Wade would find some comfort in this. Wade was about the most childish person he had ever met, so he wasn't exactly surprised at such violent and exaggerated reaction. It really was just adorable, in a way in which children were cute with their miniature tragedies, like losing or breaking toys. Because that's what Wade was, underneath all the hardness and pain – a child. There was still a child there somewhere, a child that survived, and Peter would do anything to keep it that way.
"Wanna watch The Star Wars Holiday Special?" he asked.
"Yes, please," Wade answered without missing a beat, nodding enthusiastically.
Peter chuckled and ignored his brain reminding him how absolutely horrid that thing was, because Wade never really cared. He always said that this special was the only thing keeping him from going on a killing spree for not having Bea cast as Leia.
Thank Star Wars for small mercies.