Events take place a few months before the Amazing Spiderman

Chapter 1

"It wasn't even me!" Peter Parker grumbled, cruising down the dark streets on his skateboard.

The sounds of New York were muffled by an icy breeze which blew through the trees making him to turn up his collar, shivering. By day the city was alive and bustling with people but by night only the brave venture from their homes in fear of what lurks in the shadows.

"I'm an A grade student, why would I blow up a freaking toilet?" Peter muttered to himself. "The look on Flash's face when I took the hit... What douche-bag."

A whirr of sirens grew steadily louder and Peter tensed, turning to watch three police cars screech past him at an alarming shielded his eyes from the bright lights before sighing and pulling out his phone.

"Aunt May and Uncle Ben are probably worried, this stupid phone is always dying."

He tapped the screen furiously and glared at it as if sheer will power could make it work again. It didn't.
To put it bluntly, Peter's day sucked. He slept through his alarm clock resulting in no breakfast and a late slip, then he had PE with Flash Thompson… the memory made him to roll his injured shoulder, at lunch he was tripped over and he broke his camera, again, got blamed for Flash's experiment with pyrotechnics, and finally landed in detention with Mr Stuart. Also it's bloody cold.

Peter sat up off the floor nursing his newly injured knee, glaring at his skateboard as it rolled away innocently. Let's add getting thrown off his skateboard to that list.
He looked up as five more frantic police cars zoomed past in a blur.

"What is going on?" He wondered.

He scanned the area, the only other living soul in the vicinity was a man strolling up the street on the opposite side heading in his direction. Peter winced at the thought of the man witnessing his crash. Stumbling to his feet and rubbing warmth back into his fingers, he jumped on his skateboard and ventured on.

Coasting at a fast pace across the pavement, the boy was 15 minutes from home when loud sirens once again pierced the silence of the night.
A sea of flashing red and blue lights came into focus and Peter curiously watched them as they flew past him, disrupting the leaves gathered on the ground and sending small animals scurrying. Peter gazed at the sight wistfully, wishing his camera wasn't broken but frowned when heavy footfalls were suddenly on his radar.
Waiting for the last car to pass, he listened again for the noise. The hairs on back of Peter's neck stood up as he heard a definitive set of footprints join with the first set of steps behind him. He glanced fearfully behind him, worried that perhaps Flash was meaning to finish what he started in PE, but his heart rate spiked when he caught sight of the two hunching figures walking barely 10 paces behind him.

"Peter, its fine, relax, they are probably just regular people." He repeated to himself softly, quickening his speed with his eyes trained on the asphalt in front of him and his ears straining to keep track of the step behind him.

He continued on at an panicked pace until a shadow loomed into view, shrouding the poor boy in a sinister darkness. Wide-eyed, Peter stamped his right foot on ground and skidded to a shaky stop, his heart pounding and his breaths shallow.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A voice cackled in front of him.

Peter looked up at the man who was wearing one of those white craft masks one would find the dollar store.

"Nice ride he's got, mind if i take it?" Sneered another.

Peter turned around quickly and his stomach dropped, there were two more figures, equally masked in cheap cardboard. Oh for the love of god, three of them? I didn't think this day could get any worse. The second one shoved him hard, causing him to stumble back, he spun on his heel and attempted to run but a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back harshly.

"Where do you think your goin'?" Second taunted and pushed him again threateningly, backing him further and further into the darkness of the alleyway.

Peter's heart rate doubled as his chances of escape shrunk with every passing moment.

"Okay kid you know the drill hand all them valuables over to Jack here." Demanded the second man, smirking.

"You weren't supposed to use my real name jackass!" Hissed the first.

Second dismissed the man called Jack with a wave of his hand. Peter could see him rolling his eyes from behind the small holes cut in the mask, but his focus instantly shifted as Jack pulled out a wicked looking knife from his belt. They all froze when the ally was momentarily lit up with blue and red as another police car skidded past.

"Why are there so many cops tonight?" One of them muttered

Peter's heart was in his throat,

[Please stop, please notice! I'm here! Look at me!] He silently begged.

Increasingly, he felt like a like a fly trapped in a spider's web waiting for a strong gust of wind to send him on his way. His lip trembled slightly as he closed his eyes briefly wishing that he had listened to his aunt and taken the train but tried to swallow his fear as he opened his eyes, stilled his lip and lifted his chin.

"Just leave me alone okay. I have nothing on me, I swear." Peter said in the bravest voice he could muster.

Jack chuckled "Ooooooh I'm so scared." He mocked, "Bag on the ground faggot."

"Takes one to know one." Peter bit back earning himself a punch in the face, the force knocked his head back against the wall and he stayed there dazed for a few moments, waiting for the stars in his vision to clear.

Jack grabbed the front of Peters shirt and his cronies jeered him on.

"NOW!" He barked.

Peter hastily compiled, pulling his backpack off his back and releasing it onto the pavement with stiff fingers. Immediately, Second hunched over the bag and began digging through it.

"Pockets too." He demanded with a crooked smile.

Peter hesitated,

"I know a great anger management place if you were looking..." He bit out.

He instantly regretted his mistake when he was roughly grabbed from behind, his arms were pulled behind his back and he had the gleaming blade pressed tightly against his throat.

"Pockets." He snarled, sending flecks of spit towards Peter's face and fogging up his glasses.

Hastily, Peter spilled the contents of his pockets into Jack's hand, flinching as Jack leaned in closer to peer at the assorted objects before moving the knife away from his neck with a displeased look on his face. Another couple police cars passed and they all froze, shrinking further back into the deep depths of the alley. Trying to ignore the hot, foul breath passing his ear, courtesy of the man holding him, Peter adjusted his stance slightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Painfully aware of the tension building up in his arms, Peter shifted his eyes, constantly searching for an exit.

"Boss, the bag has nothin'; textbooks, broken old camera..." Second grunted, tossing objects behind him where they hit a garbage can and skidded to the ground.
Peter gritted his teeth, struggling not to do something that Uncle Ben would classify as stupid.

"...and Pencils, this kid's flat broke not a cent on him- ARGH!" Second continued, ending with a cry of pain as Peter suddenly, as if reflexively, jerked his knee up and crashed it right into the kneeling man's jaw.

The moment of shock allowed Peter to wiggle his arms free of Third where he continued his escape by throwing his head back, colliding with his tormentor's nose and resulting in a satisfying crack. He too howled in pain and Peter freed himself completely, flailing clumsily and knocking Jack's mask off. As the shock wore off, Jack looked livid. His beady eyes widened in outrage and a vein on his forehead looked close to bursting. The man advanced savagely and Peter swung a sloppy punch which was easily dodged. Third grabbed him harshly by the hair from behind and with help from Second, the two men smashed him against the wall and pinned him there, grinning as his head lolled slightly at the impact. Peter's body pressed against Second's torso, his head bent back at a painful angle, groaning slightly.

"You little shit." Jack spat, smiling wickedly as he pressed the knife to his throat once again.

"Kill the turd Jack." Taunted Third, pulling his hair hard enough to rip out a few strands.

Peter could sense the rotting breath of his captor as it whistled out of his captors mask and passed his ear.

"Hey twinkle toes, you knocked off my mask, now I have to kill you... Guess this is the last face you'll ever see." Jack gibed.

Jack forced the knife harder onto Peter's throat, making a small trickle of blood appear at his neck, running down past his collar. Peter was trapped, as much as he tried, he couldn't move an inch. It was over... He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tensed, waiting for the end.

A shot rang out into the night, echoing off the brick walls of the alley. Immediately, Peter felt the painful grip on his hair lessen and he stumbled slightly as the pressure pushing him into the wall slackened.

[Oh my god, I'm dead, I'm dead, they shot me! ...Wait where did the gun come from? I thought it was a knife? Where's the pain? What is happening!]

Peter snapped his eyes open in shock and watched frozen as the man, as if in slow motion, slumped to the ground, a look of shock plastered on his face as a pool of blood expanded in the centre of his forehead. Eyes wide, Peter and the two remaining men turned in unison to squint at the new-comer.

Standing at the entrance of the alleyway, framed by the light of a streetlamp was a man. He was tall and clad in red and black spandex, nonchalantly blowing the smoke off the barrel of his revolver.

"Didn't your mummy ever tell you not to bully cute little boys?" He quipped, holstering his gun. "Sh-Shaun?" Stammered Second, looking down at his dead friend in horror.

"Dead! Put a bullet through his head! Oooooh that rhymed..." Sang the man, advancing on the trio, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Second unceremoniously let go of Peters hair, letting loose strands flutter to the ground and backed away hurriedly, holding his hands up in surrender. Peters knees wouldn't hold his weight, his legs buckled and he crumpled to the pavement, immediately scooting back as far as the wall would let him and gazing up at the scene.

The newcomer's facial muscles contorted into a frown at the sight, his expression still recognisable despite the mask.

"Look, the poor things terrified." He sighed, heading towards Peter.

"Anthony, your knife!" Hissed Jack, holding up his own knife in defence as Anthony fumbled to pull out his own with shaky hands.

Peter's black and red clad hero laughed, batting it away easily and stepping forward to take hold of Anthony's head. In a quick movement he broke the man's neck with a sickening crack.

The man walked towards Peter who was currently on his third attempt of trying to stand, and knelt down to his level.

"People call me Deadpool, pretty sweet name, I know." He introduced holding out a hand which Peter hesitantly accepted. After being hauled to his feet, Peter's mouth formed an O as he looked past Deadpool's head.

"LOOK OU-" Deadpool twisted, landing a solid kick into Jack's crotch, who fell to the ground in pain.

Straightening up, he loomed over Jack menacingly before turning back to Peter and tilting his head slightly.

"Now, point out on the doll where the nasty man touched you." He suggested, fingering the katana's on his back.

Peter was holding onto the wall for dear life, tenderly touching his throat, and managed to stammer, "He didn't touch me..."

"Yeah I didn't touch him you homo." Jack spat, and in a flash, Deadpool had aimed a sharp kick to his stomach.

"I'm no HOMOSAPIEN!" He gasped, holding his hand to his chest in mock hurt.

Jack wheezed and rolled over onto his hands and knees before trying to stand up off the pavement, but deadpool lifted a foot lazily and stamped hard on his back causing him to collapse flat on his face. He then unleashed a barrage of powerful kicks to the man's head, mouth and ribs, each one receiving a pained grunt or moan from the fetal figure on the ground. Seemingly growing bored of the repetitive action, Deadpool stopped to scratch his nose deep in thought.
Suddenly, his arm reach back over his head and sliding a lethal katana from it's sheath, he placed it on one of Jack's shoulders, exclaiming,

"I, Deadpool, knight thee, Ugly!" Moving the sword onto Jack's other trembling shoulder.

"Nighty night!" He sang and he swung his arm back expertly, preparing to administer the lethal blow.

"Wait!" Cried Peter, and the blade stopped an inch short of the man's neck.

Deadpool turned his head towards Peter in confusion.

"This dude tried to kill you…" He said slowly, trying to comprehend.

"But he didn't! I'm alive. See?" Peter urged.

He took a step towards Deadpool, holding out his hands and waving them around as if to prove his point.

"You saved me." He stated

"He beat you up! And.." Deadpool stopped as more police cars zoomed past.

"I'm kinda short on time right now kid" He sighed and swung the sword back up into the air, maintaining eye contact with Peter.

"Then just let him go okay? I'm fine, really we can all just walk away." Peter urged, his eyes flickered down and he grimaced, except those two.

Deadpool had an unreadable look on his face for a long moment until he swung the sword down sharply, slapping Jack on the backside with the flat side of the sword.

"Get out of here you little creep." He ordered and Jack hastily obeyed, stumbling to his feet and hot-footing it from the scene without looking back once.

Peter looked around at the scene before him. Two dead bodies, blood everywhere (some his own), his possessions were strewn across the newly made crime scene and he was standing in front of a lunatic in a spandex costume.

"So…. Uh… Thanks?" Said Peter slowly backing away, debating if he should risk gathering his things.

He just wanted to go home and sleep, no more trouble.

Deadpool looked up and shook off some unreadable thought, "Where do you think you're going kid?" He asked sheathing his katana and sauntering towards Peter.

"I… Uh…. You saved me… So I can go now, right? That's how the superhero thing works isn't it?" Peter managed, backing away further, cursing when he felt the cold brick wall behind him.

"What makes you think I'm a superhero?" Deadpool stopped in front of him, tilting his head and looked strangely at Peter.

"Uh… The costume? A-And the saving me thing?" Peter said warily.

Deadpool's arms snaked out and he braced himself against the wall resting his arms on either side of Peter's head. Peter eyes flickered in both direction's trying not to look directly at Deadpool, whose face was in startling close proximity.

"Oh kid, I'm no hero… But isn't it customary to give your saviour a kiss?" He questioned, moving his face towards the boy's.

Peters heart hammered in his chest and he shrunk back as far as he could, adrenaline muddling his brain.

Their lips were just centimetres apart when Deadpool quickly drew back laughing, "NAHHHHHHHH I'm just messing with ya." He grinned, cracking his neck and stepping back. Peters stomach dropped and he released his breath, not realising that he had been holding it.

[Is that disappointment? No… it can't be…] He shook the thought from his head furiously.

"But seriously now, I need to borrow you for something." Deadpool added in a more earnest tone.

"Borrow…?" Peter, began, but didn't finish as something clicked and he knew he wasn't going to get saved a second time. He moved quickly, attempting to duck under Deadpool's arm but wasn't fast enough as Deadpool trapped a hand on Peter's shoulder and pushed him back into the wall with minimal effort.

"No, no no! Okay sshhhh look kid! OW THATS MY SHIN! Oi stop!" Deadpool frowned, moving a gloved hand in annoyance to cover Peter's mouth, muffling his shouts for help.

Peter squinted in irritation up at the black and red clad man.

"Okay kid, here's the story, the popo are after my ass, like shooting me and stuff, rude I know! Anyway, I don't particularly like being shot." He paused, pondering his next sentence for a moment, "I kinda, sorta, maybe, slightly killed a man… Well um I mean, another man." He explained, turning slightly to review the carnage he had just created in the alley and smirking slightly at Peter's wide-eyed expression.

"He was a bad man mind you… But now they're all mad at me and I reeeeaaaallllly need a damsel in distress for my plan." He finished sweetly.

Peter struggled under his weight wondering how his night had become so much incredibly worse.

"I saw you walking and we all agree you are adorable, which is saying something because usually at least one of us disagrees... Plus! Good guys don't usually shoot damsels in distress, so I saved your cute ass and now we're here". He smiled reassuringly and before Peter could protest, he lifted him up and threw him over his shoulder.