Monday feels like every Monday, except Wade is pretty sure he's in love. This strange kind of courtship Peter and he have undertaken—complete with chaperons provided by ethics and social taboos—is a special kind of torture that Wade has gleefully signed on for with a smile and a, "Thank you sir, may I have another?"
Kate, however, seems to be getting over her brief attraction to Travis. She spends their walk to class complaining about how sexist he is sometimes and how he never listens to her. They have not broken up yet, but Wade can see it on the horizon. As they sit down, she says, "I'm sorry I've been skipping training."
"It's okay," Wade says with a shrug. "But I'll have you know that Hope has bruised a few of my ribs in your absence and I place that squarely on your shoulders, young lady."
Kate laughs, and asks, "So how did the whole costume security thing go? Did you get to punch anyone?"
"No punching, but I did get Force-choked by a miniature Darth Vader." Wade takes out his phone to show her all the pictures from the event, and Kate demands that he teach her his wicked cosplay ways.
All day, Wade looks forward to Chemistry. He knows that it will be the same thing as every Monday, but he wants to refresh his sensory memory of what it is like to kiss Peter's lips and taste his tongue. But he also knows that he needs to play it cool because they are not anywhere as remotely private as the parking lot of Greymalkin Apartments. Oh, and Peter's boss is there.
Dr. Banner really is a soft, squishy looking fellow. Like a human teddy bear. His soft voice and his curly black hair carry no indication that he is secretly Mr. McSmashyton. Then again, Wade knows a lot of people who are the human personifications of Mt. Vesuvius.
The two professors are discussing the labs for the next class periods. There are only three labs, a laboratory final, and their molecule presentations remaining. Wade writes down a few notes on the upcoming fun in an effort to keep himself from looking at Peter too much. Peter has the look and posture of someone speaking to the principal. By the time Dr. Banner leaves, everyone else has arrived and Peter starts relaying the information to the class.
"Okay, everyone," Peter starts as he swivels back and forth on his stool. "Because of Thanksgiving coming up, we only have a total of five class sessions left, including today. Today, we're testing pH. Next week is the internet battery project. I'll send an email out with all the details, but this is something you can do at home or here, but you need to bring all your materials if you bring it into class. You will have the option to skip the class, provided you post your process and tests on the discussion board. The week after that, we're doing lipid testing, so you'll need to bring a food item. The next Monday is the week of Thanksgiving, and we are not having class. If you need assistance on homework or questions on your molecule, it is a great day to come by anyway and I will give you all the help possible. The Monday after thanksgiving will be the lab final, and I'll send you all the details on what you'll need to bring. And finally, our final day will be the 7th, and we will be doing all of the molecule presentations."
Peter takes a deep breath, and asks, "Are there any questions?"
There are quite a few, but Wade just keeps writing things in his log book. Little reminders for things he needs to do for the upcoming classes, and only occasionally glancing up and almost every time he does glance up, Peter is looking at him. A couple times it makes him smile and Wade knows that he shouldn't be so damn happy about that.
They get a late start on the pH lab, and other than someone accidentally mixing a small amount of bleach with a small amount of ammonia, everything goes well. They get out at the time they are supposed to leave for once (4:20 haha), and Wade is only the last one because everyone else darts for the door like they are trying to win the race.
Still, Wade isn't in any kind of hurry, and when he and Peter are alone, Peter says, "I see you got all the blue off."
"That's not all I got off," Wade responds without even checking with his brain first. He shakes his head and says, "That was horribly crude. I'm such a philistine."
Peter's face is red. "I think it's just part of your charm."
"What can I say? I'm a charming motherfucker," Wade says with a grin.
"Only five weeks," Peter says. "Four class sessions."
Wade nods, wanting more than anything to kiss Peter again and again. He says, "I'm patient. So very patient. There are oysters who are envious."
"No pearl jokes," Peter says as sternly as one can when snickering.
Wade laughs. "See, I wasn't even going there, but now that you did. Oh baby."
Peter's face has gone from pink to crimson. "You have a good afternoon, Wade."
"Good afternoon, professor," Wade says as he turns towards the door. His backpack manages to hit the light switches, turning the room pitch black. Wade fumbles for the switches, and then feels a hand on his followed by another hand capturing his cheek and guiding his mouth to another mouth that tastes familiar. It only lasts a few seconds, but it is enough to get his blood pumping. Then the lips are gone and the lights come on.
Peter smiles at him, his lips a little swollen and eyes a little darker, and says, "I'll see you next Monday."
"Philistine," Wade whispers.
Yes, it is torture, and Wade is loving it. He loves the stolen moments that happen throughout the week, because Peter's always over at May's, and Wade always knows because Peter texts him. Then they'll walk out to the car for something or down to the dumpsters, and there's hands and tongues and it is always over too soon, but Wade is fine with it. He's addicted to it.
One such event happens Saturday evening. Wade happens to be outside when a familiar car pulls into the lot. Wade walks over, takes a quick look to make sure no one is around, and proceeds to kiss Peter breathless. They are both aware that this situation is getting out of hand, and Wade doesn't know how to stop himself. Peter doesn't seem to want to stop either, but they both know that they can't take this thing much farther. Not now. Not yet.
Wade ends up helping Peter bring the groceries in that he picked up for May. It is only three bags, but it gives him a reason to remain with Peter a little longer. Besides, May is just happy as hell to see him. She greets him with a hug and a smooch on the cheek, and asks, "Are you staying for dinner?"
"I can't," Wade says. "We've got some people coming over for game night."
Peter raises an eyebrow. "Game night?"
"Yeah, uh." Wade chuckles, and says, "Weasel is part of this tabletop gaming group, and I've been roped into participating."
"Like Dungeons and Dragons?" Peter says with a sneaking smile.
"It's exactly Dungeons and Dragons," Wade says. "We just started our evil campaign last month."
The look that Peter gives him is the kind a kid has when presented with the world's largest Gobstopper. He gasps, "That is so awesome! Gwen and I used to do D&D in college. I love D&D!"
Wade grins and says, "Well, professor, I would ask you to come over, but it might be inappropriate, me being your student and all."
Peter shakes his head and reaches into his pocket and produces a black 20-sided die. "How about we roll and see if I can come over?"
Honestly, Wade is excessively turned on by the fact that Peter Parker is the type of nerd that walks around with a D-20 in his pocket. Wade says, "I'm pretty high in Will, so you better roll high in Charisma."
Peter tosses the die onto the table, and rolls a 1. Peter groans.
"Ouch!" Wade says. "Critical fail, baby boy. No bueno."
May clears her throat, and says, "How long do you two intend to keep doing this?"
Both Wade and Peter look at May with the same deer-in-the-headlights expression. Then they both ask in unison, "Doing what?"
May just shakes her and and chuckles her way back into the kitchen. Wade looks at Peter, and Peter whispers with a slightly embarrassed smile, "Do you think she saw us?"
"I don't know," Wade says with a shrug. Then he sweeps in and gives Peter a quick peck on the lips, and says, "I'll be thinking about you in the shower later."
"I hate you," Peter says with a smile that says something more like the opposite.
Back in his own apartment, people have already arrived. The D&D group consists of Weasel's ex-girlfriend Inez, her co-worker Alex, and a nerdy dude named Bob who is the group's Dungeon Master. Right now they are plotting to take over a town, and Wade's necromancer just found Inez's thief inside his secret chamber.
When Wade was first roped into playing this game, he thought it would be boring as fuck. Now, he kind of feels like he needs to send a letter of apology to so many people who he made fun of in high school for their love of Dungeons and Dragons. Weasel also likes LARPing, and there is a good chance that Wade will be pulled into that world too.
They drink beer, eat nachos, and work their way through a couple battles. Time always flies when they're playing, and Wade doesn't realize that it's almost midnight until his phone rings.
He's surprised to see Kate's number on the screen. She never calls; always texts. Wade steps away from the table and answers, "Kate?"
"Wade," she says, and he can tell from her voice that something isn't right. "Can you… Can you come pick me up?"
"Yeah, I can do that," Wade says because he's feeling uneasy all of a sudden. "Where are you?"
"A house," she answers, and her words are slurring. "'s on ninth. I dunno th'address."
Wade grabs his keys and walks outside as he's shrugging into his red and black coat. "Is it a party or something?"
"Yeah. Lotta people. I'm in th'bathroom." Kate makes a noise that sounds like a sob and says, "Please come'n get me."
"I'm on my way, kid," Wade says. "Just stay on the line with me. I'm on my way."
Wade speeds his way to ninth street. It's a mostly residential area not too far from campus. A lot of houses, and he knows which one is the party house as soon as he sees it. There are cars everywhere, filling the driveway and lawn, and people standing around outside smoking. Most of the houses are cheap, lower rent. Mostly rented to college kids, so it's doubtful the neighbors care. Most of the neighbors are probably there because the place is packed.
Wade parks on the street and says, "I'm here, Kate." She doesn't answer. Her answers were getting fewer and fewer as he drove.
At the door, a tall kid says, "Who the hell are you?"
Wade pushes past him and walks through the door into a cloud of pot smoke and a cacophony of loud music. Wade steps over and around kids, looking for anything that looks like the bathroom. He finds it because of the line outside. There's protesting when he pushes to the front. He knocks on the door and shouts, "Kate! It's Wade."
When she doesn't answer, Wade opens the door with a hard slam of his shoulder. Kate is laying against the sink, and the first thing he notices is that her shirt is ripped and there's blood splattered on her shirt and arm. Wade kneels down and feels for a pulse, which he finds but it is slow. He gives her a shake and says, "Kate? Kate, it's me. Can you hear me?"
Kate's eyes open a crack, and then she immediately throws up on herself. Wade leans her forward, giving gravity a boost to get all the gunk out of her so she doesn't choke, then grabs a towel to clean up her face. The blood, Wade notes, isn't Kate's because he can see no obvious wounds. She was in a fight. Or fighting someone off of her. Wade takes off his coat and wraps her in it before lifting her up and carrying her out of the bathroom.
Wade knows that whatever is happening to Kate is bad, and he doesn't bother to be polite as he pushes his way back towards the entrance. He carefully puts Kate in the passenger's seat and closes the door. He's about to jump in when someone drunkenly shouts, "Where the fuck you taking my girlfriend!"
It's Travis. Wade says, "I'm taking her to the hospital, you worthless fuck."
"The fuck you are," he says, and he shoves at Wade. "She's just a dumb little bitch who can't hold her liquor."
Wade notices that Travis' nose has blood around the nostril and looks a little bruised and crooked. Wade grabs his shirt and says, "What did you do, you little piece of shit?"
"None of your fucking business!" he snaps back. "Who do you think you are? Her father?"
"No," Wade says, and he laughs. He laughs the kind of laugh that denotes madness rather than humor. Then he jerks the kid up off his feet by the neck and he hisses in a voice as cold as the center circle of Hell, "But daddy's gonna express some rage."
Whatever happens after that isn't really clear. He knows that he punched the kid a few times. He knows that a few of his buddies showed up to try and help. Wade punched them too. He also knows that he drove Kate to the hospital. Sometime after she was taken into the emergency room, he was arrested. He didn't put up a fight then.
Now, Wade is sitting in a jail cell. He's been there almost four hours and hasn't said a word. There's blood dried in the creases of his knuckles, and he's not sure exactly what happened. It almost feels like he left his body, and is only just returning to it.
It isn't until the door buzzes and Nate comes in with an officer that Wade even looks up from the floor. Wade just sighs and looks back down.
"It sounds like you've had a busy night," Nate says. His voice is tired, but not angry. Still, Wade flinches at the sound. Nate continues, "They are not going to press charges against you. Apparently there are several witnesses who claim that the four young men fought amongst themselves and fell off the porch. One of them, Travis, has a broken nose, broken jaw, three broken ribs, and a fractured tibula. He, along with two others, are being charged with possession of rohypnol and assault, and will be under arrest as soon as they can leave the hospital."
Wade is still silent.
"Your friend, Kate, is going to be fine. She'll probably be in the hospital for a couple days," Nate says, and Wade can feel something inside release. Nate continues, "There were two girls found unconscious in a room when the police showed up. Three more were taken to the hospital to be tested and were found to have the drug in their system." Nate's voice grew a little angrier as he spoke, and he clears his throat to say, "It seems that the, uh, fight those young men had on the front lawn may have stopped a lot of bad things from happening. Now get up. You're free to go."
Wade sighs out his nose, and gets to his feet. The officer opens the cell door then holds out a hand to Wade. For a moment Wade is confused, then he shakes the deputy's hand before following him out the door with Nate behind him.
The Chief of Police is waiting for Wade with the paperwork to sign himself out. He's a tall guy wearing an eyepatch. His badge says "Fury", and Wade signs without a word, even though Fury tells him "Sorry for your trouble." He feels strange still. Almost sick, but he can't put his finger on why. Really, he's having a hard time thinking and Nate has to usher him out the door and into the car.
The police department is across town from where Wade lives, and Wade is just as silent in the car as he was in the cell. He's got nothing to say because if he starts talking, he knows he's going to say something he shouldn't. Or something he doesn't want to say.
It's just after sunrise, and Wade feels drained in ways that have nothing to do with just being tired. He feels like he's coming down from something, and he knows what it is. PTSD is a motherfucker sometimes. As Nate parks the car in front of Wade's apartment, Wade says, "I wanted to kill that kid."
"I know," is Nate's response. Calm, no judgement.
Wade looks at him and flatly repeats, "I wanted to kill that kid. I wanted to kill him. And all you can say is I know? Don't you get it, motherfucker? I wanted to kill that kid. I wanted to kill him and his friends and basically everyone else in that fucking house who wasn't Kate. And honestly, I'm disappointed. I'm disappointed that the fucking rapist piece of shit is only in the hospital and not in the morgue."
Nate puts a hand on Wade's forearm, and in a calm voice, says, "I know, Wade. All I could think when I heard what happened was what would I have done if it was Hope. And I know without a doubt that I would have done the exact. Same. Thing."
Wade can feel something on his face, and he realizes that there are tears, hot and streaking down from his eyes. He sniffs and dashes them away. He wants to stay quiet, but now that he's started talking, he can't seem to stop. His voice is quavering. "Nothing makes sense out here, Nate. I don't belong here. I thought I did, but I don't. I'm pretending. And I think that's what… That's what fucking Shiklah knew. That's who she wanted me to be. I'm just a killer, and that's all I'll ever…"
"You are not just a killer," Nate says sternly. "Dammit, Wade, can't you see that?"
Wade's eyes are stinging again, and he looks out the passenger window. "I feel like I'm faking it."
"Then you're doing a damn good job of it, Wade." Nate gives his arm a squeeze, and says, "You're not some monster. You're a good man who has done some bad things, but that doesn't change who you really are. Because you're still the man who took two bullets for me in Rumekistan."
Wade frowns and says, "It was one bullet and I just happened to step in the way."
Nate smirks. "You're also very humble."
Wade sighs and looks down at his hands and says in a barely audible voice, "Thank you."
Wade gets out of the car and walks inside to find Weasel sitting at the counter with coffee already brewed. He immediately walks to Wade and gives him a big hug, and Wade feels himself start tearing up again when Weas says, "I was worried about you, man."
"I'm fine," Wade says as he half-heartedly pushes Weasel away.
Weasel smirks and says, "I said nothing about your looks, big sexy."
"I will punch you in the head," Wade grumbles. Then his eyes brighten, and he asks, "Did you make muffins?"
"It was a mix I found in the cupboard," Weasel says. "But they're actually pretty good. I ate one. Two. Half. The rest are all you. And!" Weasel grabs a cup and fills it, then hands it to Wade. "This is blueberry muffin coffee. I made it. And it actually tastes good."
Wade smiles down at the blueberry-scented liquid, and asks, "So did we take the city?"
"We cancelled after you texted from the hospital," Weasel says. Wade doesn't remember texting anyone, but it now makes sense how Nate knew where he was. "Besides, we had no hope against Inez's guild without your horde of the undead."
"You didn't try diplomacy?" Wade asks.
Weasel laughs. "What part of Evil Campaign don't you understand?"
"Touche," Wade says as he sips his coffee. "I think I'm going to take a nap or something. I'm beat."
Wade's asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. It's not the best sleep he's ever had, and it is filled with nightmares he hasn't had for almost a year. When he wakes up, it's a little after 2 in the afternoon and he can hear voices in the living room. He knows that Weasel is talking, and he sounds annoyed, but the other voices he can't quite place. Or if he is placing them, it's unexpected.
He dresses quickly in a pair of lounge pants and a clean long-sleeved t-shirt and goes out into the living room to find Peter and Gwen sitting there with Weasel. They all look angry, and Wade is just confused as to why Peter would be there at all considering the whole non-contact thing.
But he doesn't have time to think about that because Peter comes straight to him and kisses him like they don't have an audience and aren't supposed to be undercover lovers (or pre-lovers who text a lot and smooch on the sly), and Wade just goes with it because why not? It's been a stressful 24-hours.
When Peter steps back, Wade says, "It's good to see you, baby boy, but what's with the meeting?"
"You're being kicked out of school," Weasel all but shouts.
"I'm what?" Wade says.
"Not being kicked out," Peter says sternly to Weasel. Then to Wade, he says, "You are being temporarily suspended, though. At least until Tuesday. The school found out about what happened last night because one of the assholes found with rohypnol happens to be the grandson of an asshole administrator."
Weasel flings an arm out and says, "Clearly no good deed goes unpunished."
Wade keeps his attention on Peter. "What does this mean?"
"You'll have to go in front of a review board," Gwen says. "It's the procedure they go by when a student breaks the code of conduct on or off campus. If you'd been arrested for drinking, you'd have the same result."
"But he wasn't drinking," Weasel says angrily. "He was saving a girl's life."
"Which the review board will absolutely take into consideration," Peter says calmly. He looks at Wade and says, "More than likely, the most you'll end up with is a slap on the wrist and be warned to not do it again, especially since no charges were filed. This is literally just some asshole being an asshole for the sake of being an asshole."
"I take it you don't like him?" Wade says.
"No," Peter says flatly. "I went to school with one of his sons, and his grandson is no fucking better."
Wade nods, and says, "Okay, so I'm suspended. It's not the first time in my academic life. The only question I have is how do you know before me?"
"I got an email about it at 6 o'clock this morning," Peter answers. "They have to inform all of your instructors, so I called Weasel to get the scoop and I was so fucking mad I wanted to punch things."
"So I suggested that we just come on over and let you know," Gwen says with a smile.
Wade sighs and leans a shoulder against the wall. "Okay, so if this doesn't go my way, what—"
"It will go your way," Peter says sternly. Then smiles. "You do realize that you have a small brigade of loyal followers who will swear on a stack of bibles that you didn't do a damn thing, right?"
Wade's face scrunches. "What?"
Gwen grins. "It's all over Yik Yak."
Wade turns serious, and says, "They're not going after Kate, are they?"
"Not that I know of," Peter says. "I doubt they will, considering she had no alcohol in her system. She wasn't breaking any rules."
"And if they do they're a bunch of victim-blaming assholes that I will personally make famous," Gwen says. "I'm not afraid to use my friends at the Times."
Wade nods, and asks, "So what now?"
"Right now, you should probably turn in whatever you can into Dropbox before Monday, so you'll have a little leeway when it comes to missing classes," Peter says. Then he smirks and says, "I know you have Chem covered."
"Why professor," Wade says with a smirk. "Are you suggesting I'm getting some kind of favoritism?"
"No," Peter says. "I'm suggesting that you already turned in your battery project three days ago and it has already been graded."
"Well, there's that too." Wade chuckles. He looks at Gwen and Weasel, then asks Peter, "So is this our coming out party too or something?"
"They both know," Peter says, his cheeks a little pink. "They actually have a series of bets based on you and me. Apparently, Weasel won ten dollars Halloween."
Wade gives Gwen and Weasel a half-hearted glare, and says, "You're both assholes."
"Assholes who love you," Gwen says with a beatific grin.
Weasel shrugs. "What? I bet your favor every time."
"Well, since you're both cheering for us, I hope you don't mind if we depart your company for a little bit," Wade says, then looks at Peter. "You and I need to talk in private."
Wade leads Peter down the hall with Gwen wolf-whistling. Once inside his room, Wade closes the door and Peter goes to kiss him, but Wade holds him back. "Wait a moment, because I really do need to talk to you about something. And it's pretty important and in the interest of full disclosure."
Peter nods and takes his hand. "Okay. Let's talk."
Wade leads him over to the bed and they sit side by side. For a moment, Wade is silent with his eyes fixed on his hand wrapped in both of Peter's. He likes that feeling. Still, there's something he needs to say.
"I want you to know who you're dealing with. I mean, I know I've told you a lot of things about me. Some things I've never told anyone. But what happened last night… I barely even remember what I did. It was like I wasn't even in control. I just… I could have killed those guys." Wade swallows hard and says, "It's not the first time I've had this… this anger come out. Fuck, I almost choked Weasel to death once because he tried to wake me up. The shit he has put up with from me is unreal. And you deserve to know that I'm not always the guy you see in class or at May's. Sometimes…"
"I'm familiar with PTSD," Peter says when Wade trails off. Wade looks at him with a hint of fear in his eyes, and Peter says, "Aunt May told me how my uncle was when he first got back from Vietnam. He was the same way. Jumpy. Quick to anger. He had nightmares and flashbacks. Aunt May had to adapt. Like, she had to use a whisk for everything because the sound of the hand mixer could trigger him." He smiles and says, "It's not a deal breaker. It's part of who you are. And I... I like all sides of you, Wade."
Wade looks down at their hands. "You know all that shit I say about blowing stuff up is bullshit, too, right? I'd probably shit myself if something exploded around me. Kind of gallows humor, I guess."
Peter smiles and says, "A little gallows humor is how we get through the world sometimes."
Wade nods. "I just… I just wanted you to know. And right now, my head is completely wrong." He smirks and says, "Despite this golden opportunity to have you all to myself with the blessing of our two esteemed companions, the only thing I really want to do is go check on Kate and make sure she's okay."
"That right there," Peter says as he cups Wade's cheek. "That is why I'm… Why I really… You're just…"
Wade leans forward and says in a low voice, "Oh, shuddup and kiss me."