A/N: None of these are intended to be very long, but it'll be something of a drabble series, similar to Another Hundred Warblers, but with less entries and quite possibly a chance of being finished sometime soon.

"Wade, would you care to explain why you decided to break Eugene's nose?" Jane Foster at her desk. Before her sat Flash Thompson, Peter Parker, and Wade Wilson, the latter of whom was in her office for the eighth time that month.

Wade looked up from picking at one of his many bandages to look Jane in the eye. "'Cause Flash was picking on Peter and no one else gave a shit about it."

"First of all, language, Wade. Secondly, what do you mean by no one else cared? Did everyone else just stand there, watching?" Wade nodded. "No one tried to stop it?"

"Yeah! Well, Steve tried to stop him but Bucky pulled him away before he could get too close." Wade chewed on his bottom lip. "And everyone else is too afraid of Flash to try." Jane could see the determination in Wade's eyes, knowing that the blond would do anything to protect his friends, or, better, the few ones he kept, Peter Parker seemingly being his closest.

EARLIER THAT DAY

"Hey, Puny Parker, over here like the friendless freak you are?" Flash approached Peter, who was sitting on the bench, buried in a book. The tiny boy pushed his glasses up his nose and ignored Flash. "I'm talking to you, Parker. Didn't Mommy teach you any manners? Oh wait, she died." Peter flushed but kept his eyes trained to the book. He was used to Flash's abuse and the jibes about not having any parents.

Steve ran over and was about to put himself between Flash and Peter when Bucky pulled him away, trying to talk sense into him.

"Leave him alone!" A voice shouted and Peter smiled a little. Of course Wade would come to his rescue. Wade was the only one who ever successfully saved him. "How many times do I have to tell you to leave Peter alone, Flash?"

"Clearly not enough," Peter murmured, making Wade snicker.

Flash scoffed and shoved Wade away, picking Peter up with one hand. "Why don't you fight for yourself, Parker, instead of having Wilson do it all for you?"

"Because Wade's a better fighter than I am," Peter replied mildly. "I couldn't fight you even if I tried. You have thirty pounds on me and you do sports, which, although it'll probably get you some athletic scholarship somewhere down the road, doesn't do wonders for your Ds and Fs in class." Some of the other students nearby broke out into laughter. "If playing with balls is what you like so much, perhaps you should spend a lot more time in the locker room instead of on the field."

Wade ran forward and pried Peter out of Flash's grip as the jock raised his fist. "Damn, Petey, when did you get such a mouth on you?"

Peter shrugged. "Always had it. Where have you been?" He turned to the advancing boy. "Flash, I would suggest stumbling away now before you get hurt."

"You're fucking dead, Parker," Flash growled but he fell back onto the concrete, holding his face. Wade had punched him when he got too close to Peter. "Ow, son of a—!"

"Wade Wilson!"

"And that's the story of how Flash got a broken nose," Wade said, folding his arms across his chest, smiling with smug satisfaction. "I must say, I did a pretty good job retelling that."

"Miss Foster, the parents are here," Jane's secretary said, poking her head into the room. Jane nodded to her and sighed. This wouldn't end well. It never did.