Chapter One
Two minutes after the disintegration

"Ohhh... ow... God..." Peter moaned, waking up from his unconscious state. "My head..." His head hurt like hell. His body felt like it had gone through a slaughterhouse. Spider-Man's vision was clouded and swarmed with floating, black spots. He vomited onto the sandy ground and then rolled over on his back to get away from the bile.

The pain was fading fast, though, and his senses were beginning to come back. His eyes cleared, and he looked around to see an utter wasteland— with his friends all writhing in pain on the ground, too. The ringing in his ears stopped, and he could hear their collective struggle to get up. Other than that, the place was deathly quiet, with no wind at all.

Peter managed to find his balance and groggily stood up. His legs were weak like they hadn't been used in years.

Everything came back. The memories, the pain, the guilt at leaving Tony, the fear of death, the grief. Spider-Man doubled over in pain again, but this time it was emotional.

At least he wasn't alone. The other heroes —he could make out T'challa and Starlord, and was that Bucky?— were in the same pain he was in. Wanda was sobbing with Mantis and Groot, and Starlord looked like he was having a panic attack. Hell, Nick Fury looked rattled.

Only Dr. Strange seemed calm, really. He was doing some kind of magic, with that weird, sparking, glowing, power.

And then, in this place of misery, and grief, and utter loss and heartbreak, Peter turned toward a sound he would never have dreamed to have heard.

"Oh! I have all my fingers, the knife goes chop! Chop! Chop! I have all my toes, too, I'm here, I'm queer, and there's nothing you can do about it!" The sing-song voice came from the manic, infamous Deadpool, who was currently skipping around with their katanas in his hands, sweeping them through the air.

Everyone stared.

"All the single ladies! All the single ladies! All the-"

"Deadpool." Fury was, well, furious. "What on Earth-"

"Oh, but you see, babe, we're not on Earth anymore! We're all dead!" Deadpool laughed manically before they continued. "You all are moping around like a bunch of-"

"Who is this man?" T'challa asked.

"Not a man, but I don't blame ya! It's they/them, for future reference. Anyway. You should be celebrating! I'm finally dead! Shut up, Yellow, I know! We're dead!" Deadpool kept singing and laughing happily, and the heroes shared worried and annoyed glances, except for Peter Quill, who was still having that panic attack.

"Can we all agree to ignore Deadpool?" Fury said, clearly annoyed. The heroes nodded in agreement.

Peter didn't agree to ignore Deadpool. Spider-Man had only met the anti-hero a few times before, but they had been nice enough, although very sexual and Peter doubted that 'Pool could take anything seriously in their life.

As if they had read Spidey's mind, the anti-hero sat next to Peter on the ground.

"Ignore me?" They groaned. "But I need constant attention, isn't that right, Spidey-poo?"

"I never said I was ignoring you, 'Pool." The Spider said quietly.

"Good thing! 'Cause you're the only one that ever gets my pronouns right. And you've got a cute ass!"

Peter was happy that his mask was covering his flushed face.

"So, Bug, are we in heaven?"

Peter had never actually considered the possibility. After a moment of thought, he said slowly,

"No, I don't think so. I think we're trapped inside the soul stone."

"Does that mean we're not actually dead?" The anti-hero pouted.

Spider-Man grimaced. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Deadpool."

The mercenary didn't seem to be too disheartened. "Aww... it's okay, Itsy-Bitsy! You're here, so me and White and Yellow are all good! Shut up, White!"

"What are they saying?" Peter was blushing again.

The merc tsked. "Can't tell ya that, Sweetums. Not yet anyway."

The few moments of silence were enough for Peter to feel the weight of everything again. Deadpool had been distracting him really well...

"Deadpool?" Spider-Man asked softly.

"Call me Wade, Baby Boy, if you want."

"Wade... are-are we gonna be okay? I-I don't wanna die-"

For once, Deadpool didn't respond verbally, at least at first. The merc wrapped his strong arms around the Spider, pulling him into a hug. Peter sobbed, it was all so overwhelming, but Wade was here, all around him; Wade felt warm, and big, and safe.

"Baby, I don't know," they murmured. "I wish I did, I wish I could tell you. But we'll try our very hardest to get outta here, ain't that right, Little Spider?"

Peter nodded. It was so nice that Wade gave it to him straight. He could handle it, and they knew that, and it wasn't some lie you would tell a child. The two of them sat like that for a minute or two, before they heard arguing coming from the groups that were beginning to form.

"I will not let you take control, Strange; what experience do you have as a leader?" Nick Fury barked.

"Listen to me, Fury," Strange was deadly calm. "You speak of experience; what experience do you have with the stones? We both know I'm our best chance at getting out of here alive."

"We have so little chance, it doesn't matter!" Fury argued back.

"Fury! You have no idea what you're up against-"

"You think I haven't heard that one before, Strange?" The two stared at each other, eyes narrowed. Peter's eyes widened when he saw Fury's hand on his gun. T'challa saw it too.

"Mr. Fury, you're a good man," the Black Panther said quietly. "We cannot allow this to tear us apart. We must focus on the real problem at hand."

"I don't care who's in charge. I just want to destroy Thanos." Drax supplied unhelpfully. "I must avenge the deaths of my-"

"Who's this guy?" Fury asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"I am Drax the Destroyer, I have come to avenge the deaths of my wife and-"

"Okay, well Drax the Destroyer needs to take a seat." Fury mumbled.

"There are no seats to take?" Drax questioned.

"I am Groot." Said Groot.

"Can anyone speak Groot?" Maria Hill asked.

"I can," T'challa said. "I know more than twenty languages, Groot isn't a difficult one." Everyone stared. "He said: Drax takes everything literally." T'challa continued. "I agree with Drax. I believe we should have no official leader. We must not be divided in our cause."

"Aren't they just hysterical?" Wade giggled in Peter's ear. "Cuties."