Before you start reading, read this first. That's an order!
This little story was inspired by
ThanksIllPass and her story You will understand someday

(( /9165637/1/You-will-understand-someday ))

You should definitely check it out. I love her Spideypool Stories.

Now, enjoy.

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He had always wanted to find a way to kill himself and he had always failed. How could you kill someone whose body defies death and tries so eagerly to live? It was like his cancer enjoyed letting him live for longer, to torture him. Payback for even trying to get rid of it.

Even after he found that little brat, Peter, he never stopped looking for a cure for his incurable disease: Life.

Wade couldn't deny that Peter had made his life more enjoyable, a bit brighter. Peter's high-pitched laughter when he was younger, his bright eyes. Especially his eyes. A bright chocolate-like brown. Wade once read that people with brown eyes are easily trusted. He did trust Peter.

When he looked at Wade like he'd look up to a father. Over the years it changed. Wade wasn't a father-figure anymore but he stayed family. Trust, admiration and love in Peter's eyes always made it especially hard on Wade. He wanted to die and leaving someone so naïve and weak back like Peter made him guilty. Blind Al would surely look out for him, Wade was sure about that. And it wasn't like he signed up for that when he took that little boy in and just wanted to make sure he would be calm enough to throw him out, back into society. How should he have known that this kid he brought in, fought his way into Blind Al's and his heart? Guilt was a tricky think though, logic won't help. He was responsible for Peter.

No, he doesn't want that. He wants Peter to be happy and live a good life. With a girlfriend, many friends, a family. Have kids of his own and die of old age and not because an enemy of Wade found his hideout or make Peter wait night after night, worrying, for Wade.

That little brat deserved better. Better than him.

Silent footsteps reached into the kitchen. A figure faintly visible. Then the fridge opens and light pours over the person. Black shorts and a red shirt were his only clothes. He scratched his head, yawning and looking through the fridge. He didn't actually expect to find anything. He was just checking. He sighed and then closed it. Sluggishly he walked through the darkness, letting himself fall on a couch. He opened his Laptop, checked for anything new. New missions maybe, some poor bastards whose asses need to be blown away.

He checked the time, 3:27 am in the morning. A good time.

[A good time to kill people.]

{Or drink hot chocolate with extra marshmallow.}

[Yes, or that.]

With a cup of hot chocolate with an extra big portion of marshmallows Wade sat down again. He took a sip and enjoyed the sweet smell. Peter loved it, he drinks this stuff every morning.

He accepted three new jobs. Scrolling through the internet, looking for photos of himself. Some funny rumors maybe.

[Funny rumors? Like Deadpool running around, killing people in a Panda-costume?]

{Or how he exchanged costumes with Spider-man after a failed prison break?}

[No no, how about how he took in a little kid, let him into his heart and is now unable to let that little birdy out of its golden cage?]

"I always remind him that he is free to go. I encourage him to. He doesn't want to leave."

{You don't want him to. If you're honest you know that.}

[You want him to stay. You know better but you can't let him go. He makes you weak.]

Wade closed his Laptop violently. "What do you want me to do? I can't just throw him out. He'd be devoured by this world the moment he takes his first breath outside."

[You could have taught him how to kill. He could have learned from the best.]

"He is too nice and simple-minded for that."

{That is correct. Maybe we should look for a foster family to take him in?}

"A foster family? Like Captain America and Iron Man?"

Suddenly light illuminated him, taking his vision. Blind Al wouldn't need the light.

"Peter?"

"Yes.", ashort silence followed by, "You want to give me away? Do you even realize I am too old for a foster family? Nobody wants a 17 year old kid like me."

Wade's eyes adjusted to the light, he had already turned around to where Peter's voice came from. He could see Peter stand in the door frame, his hand still on the light switch.

"Why are you awake? Go back to bed, you have school tomorrow, don't you?"

{Sounding like a father suddenly?!}

[Changing the subject. Smooth.]

"I don't care about that. Tell me, why are you so eager to make me leave?", Peter's voice was normal but Wade could see that his eyes were shimmering a bit too much.

{He is about to cry.}

[You made him cry.]

"You're at fault too.", Wade said to his voices. Realizing from Peter's hurt face, he didn't know that. He thought Wade had spoken to him.

"Sorry Peter, that wasn't meant for you. You know.", he said and nodded towards something above him. Peter knew about his voices. Peter knew about almost everything.

[And that dummy still wants to stay. Maybe he is suicidal.]

{He must have gotten that from us. Runs in the family?}

"Peter, see, I am sorry. We had this conversation so many times. I might die any day, you deserve better, blah blah blah.", an expectant look on Wade's face. He didn't have to play priest and recite that crap every time this subject was brought up. Peter just looked at him, then he said "I don't want to be anywhere else but here."

"This is what I don't get.", Wade had stood up and opened his arms.

[That is what WE ALL don't get.]

"Do I really need to grab my gun and shoot your sweet little ass out of this door to get rid of you?"

"This won't help. I will come back. I am thickheaded, like some idiot who raised me.", Peter grinned, eyes still shimmering in contrast.

Peter was trying to raise the white flag. It seems he didn't want to argue, and if Wade was honest, he didn't either. Facepalming himself he mumbles into his hand.

"What?", Peter came closer. Trying to understand what Wade was saying to his hand, but not him.

"I said, you're worse than herpes."

"And definitely more enjoyable.", Peter replied. He reached the couch, jumped over the back and seated himself perfectly to leave space for Wade to sit down beside him. He grabbed for the hot chocolate, the smell that woke him, and grinned at Wade. "Thank you.", he said. Like Wade had made it for him.

He seated himself beside Peter, smiling.

It's always like this. When Wade brings this subject up, Peter ignores it or butts head with him. If that happens it won't last long, not anymore. Ending in jokes and smiles. Never cleared up. But they both knew, each side of them was as unyielding and stupid as the other. There was no way to find a solution to this matter.

{We're lost.}

[So lost. That birdy is never gonna leave its golden cage.]

{And we trapped ourselves right beside it.}

[Damn.]

"Damn."

"What?", Peter asked, confusion showing on his face. "Ah! You're ...", Peter started, looking above Wade's head and back to him.

"My voices, yeah."

"Have you ever thought of naming them?", Peter opened the Laptop, ignoring the porn site popping up, simply closing it.

{Excuse me?}

[Excuse you?]

"They do have names? Yellow box and White box.", his voice filled with pride.

Peter didn't look at Wade, but was focused on the Laptop. Only Peter was allowed to use his Laptop and still own his fingers.

"You can't call that 'names'." "Sure, I can." "No, you can't."

"What would you name them then?", Wade replied smugly. Peter stopped, thought for a moment and then said, "I don't know them but probably "Shut" and "Up"."

"THAT you call names?"

[Insults. Right in our faces. Grab your guns, that bird needs some red to its feathering.]

"That, Wade, is what I think everytime they take your attention away from .. our conversation."

"Jealous?", he couldn't stop himself from grinning. Peter turned, looked at him, lips pressed together. Then he turned and stared at the Laptop screen again, he didn't do anything.

"Maybe."

[ALARM! Break in.]

{Too late. The heart has been invaded.}

[Noo! Do we need to self-destruct, Spock?]

{'They can't be eliminated, not even self-destruction, Captain. It's like hemorrhoids.}

[Then abort. Abort! We're powerless against 'love' and 'affection'.]

{We're on it, sir.}

Wade couldn't stop himself from thinking, that his voices might have started to enjoy this too much.

He turned away and said "On second thought, "Shut" and "Up" are good names."

[…]

{… that was rude.}

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I know, I know. It isn't that good. I felt the urge to publish it, no matter it's quality.

In case you haven't figured it out yet: [yellow box] {white box}

Thanks for reading. Continue your life now.