Say Anything…Except That

By Cortexikid

Chapter 12: Meet The Parkers

You took your sweet-ass time updating.

I've been sick. I guess that affected my ability to properly get into the headspace to—

Bullshit. You're still riding the crazy fangirl train since Oliver and Felicity hooked up on Arrow and are using it to fuel the flow of your supple creative juices.

Ugh. Why do you always pick the grossest ways to say things? And so what if I am? You can't afford to judge me the way you ship yourself so hard with Spidey/Petey.

The way I USED to ship myself with Spidey/Petey. Or the 'Spectacular Spider Man' as he's known now, apparently. Stupid, if you ask me. Nothin' spectacular about him. Except maybe his lying ability. That's pretty fucking spectacular.

Whoa. You really are pissed at him, aren't you?

I ain't gonna do your job for you, writer-lady. Show, don't tell, and all that shit.


321 Days In The Future…

Wade Wilson was never the kinda guy to actively think about how he would die.

Mainly, because he couldn't.

Not permanently anyway.

Ever since the Weapon X Program, death had become a foreign concept to him. It was something he flirted with on many occasions, both literally and figuratively for more years than he cared to remember, but it hadn't been a solid, unflappable, real possibility in a very long time.

The thing about death, though?

There's more than one kind.

Wade had forgotten that in between his brushes with the grim reaper, the dates he and Death had had together. It had dissipated from his mind somewhere in his moments of sanity and insanity, on the cusp of reality and fantasy over the thousand times he had passed over to the other side.

He knew, in some way, that every time he took a life, every time he watched the light fade from their eyes, that death was very real, at least for other people. Normal people. Just like he knew that every time he took a life, a part of himself, somewhere buried deep, deep down underneath all the bravado, all the smoke screens, a little part of him died too. Piece by piece…

His benevolence.

His empathy.

His humanity.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

And in its place grew something else entirely. Something that he needed in order to do what he did best.

A coldness. A lack of feeling. A numbness.

Except, he still felt so much. Physically, mentally and emotionally. He just hid it well. Or not well at all, depending on who you asked.

In many violent, traumatic and gruesome ways, he had died. He had all those lovely encounters with the enchantress herself to prove it. But it never stuck. He always came back…in some way, shape or form. Not good as new, but as good as he could possibly get.

So it wasn't an inevitability for him. It didn't hang over him like a dark cloud, it didn't plague him every moment of every day because even if his heart stopped, even if his head was chopped off…he always came back.

Always.

For him, there was no pearly gates or fire and brimstone. No 'here lies Wade Wilson.' No final resting place.

But that wasn't the case for everyone.

In one way or another, everyone else would greet death for the first, last and only time.

Eventually.

Until all that was left, was him.

And it was that, that terrified Wade.

"Peter?! Peter stay with me! Don't you dare close your eyes! Peter? Please don't leave me…"


Present Day…

"It's been two weeks and that's all you've got?"

Tony and Steve fixed Peter with pointed stares.

"He's pretty unflappable. I don't think even a surprise visit from our Tall, Green and Angry friend would manage to shake him," Stark remarked with a shrug as he knocked back his scotch, slamming the glass down onto the table with a loud clank.

Steve eyed him wearily before nodding, "he is a tough nut to crack."

Peter rolled his eyes, pacing back and forth, fingers running through his already untidy hair, forcing it to stick up in every direction.

"Why not test that theory?"

Stark and Rogers exchanged a look.

"You want us to…sic The Hulk on Daniels?" Tony asked slowly, a deep line between his eyebrows.

"You realize why that would be a monumentally bad idea, don't you son?" Steve asked, taking a step closer to the younger man.

"Well, nothing else has worked so far!" the brunet snarled, hazel eyes ablaze with frustration as he continued to pace back and forth, jaw clenching painfully.

"All that would achieve is more property damage. And I think I speak for everyone when I say, after last time, that's exactly what we don't need," Cap responded calmly, but his worried gaze gave him away.

"What?!" Peter demanded as he registered the expression on the other man's face.

Steve stood up, holding his hands out in what was probably meant to be a magnanimous gesture, but really just pissed Peter off more, "it's just…you haven't really been yourself lately, son. Are you…is everything okay?"

Let's see. He was being hunted by some unknown force, his childhood home had been ransacked, his aunt had been terrorized and to top it all off, he was having some sort of internal crisis, a mental break or something because he willing shoved his tongue down Wade Wilson's fucking throat. And liked it. He liked it so much that he was actively avoiding the Canadian for the last two weeks. So, no. Everything was not fucking okay. Not even slightly.

"Everything's fine," he responded, swallowing the rising lump in his throat and turning away from them again.

There was a beat of silence. Peter didn't have to look to know that Stark and Rogers were exchanging yet another weighted glance behind his back like concerned parents.

Irritation spiked in the younger man's veins. He wasn't a damn child and he was getting fairly sick of being made feel like he was.

"Remember outside the warehouse, I said I saw something big, lit up inside like a Christmas tree?" Tony asked suddenly, clearly in an attempt to alter the shift of the conversation, to dissipate the tension.

Peter merely tilted his head a fraction to indicate he had heard him.

"Well, it was Blye," Stark remarked with folded arms, "the guy is…he's not doing so hot. Whatever Daniels injected him with, it's messing him up big-time. Me and Bruce still have to do more tests to be sure what's going on with him but…one thing is for sure. He doesn't know the full picture. He doesn't know who is running the show."

"So we still have more questions than answers, is what you're saying?" the younger man asked, his tone still hilted with a sharp edge as he leaned back against the pool table, running both hands through his hair.

"What I'm saying is," Tony began, stepping over to stand beside Peter, "is that we're doing everything we can. We'll get there, kid. It's just gonna take some—"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Tony, but I don't really have a lot of time!" the brunet interjected with a wave of his hand, "these people have already tried to kill me twice. They broke into my childhood home. The cops now think that Spider Man is a gun-wielding maniac and my aunt hides it well, but she's freaked the hell out! I'm done waiting! I'm going to question Daniels myself..." he trailed off, pushing past Stark and storming towards the doors.

"What makes you think he'll answer Spider Man's questions?" Steve called after him.

Peter halted in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder, "what makes you think I was gonna ask as Spider Man?"


"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies, I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife, offer me my deathless death, good God let me give you my life…"

[Wow]

{Depressing much?}

[Who sings that song again?]

{The Irish kid with the man bun}

[So that's why his hair is so big! It's full of angst]

{Like the big guy here}

[He is being more of a sad sack than usual]

{Ever since he found out Petey is actually Spider—}

"Shut up," Wade growled under his breath as he trudged down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, his unmasked face tilted down.

[I mean really, he should be psyched]

{His two huge crushes have converged into one}

[More efficient really]

"Oh yeah, finding out that the guy I…finding out that Petey has been lying to me this entire time is just fan-fucking-tastic," the merc muttered under his breath, eyes narrowed as he watched a sickeningly-in-love couple in front of him make kissy faces at each other.

[He had to have his reasons]

{Secret identity reasons}

"That he obviously didn't trust me enough with," Wade snarled, "we've…we've known each other a hell of a lot longer than I thought. Years. And he…he's not the guy I thought he was."

[Looks like he hasn't forgotten 'The Incident']

{Really? It gets its own quotations?]

[It's the whole reason why he stopped crushing on Spidey. Why he left New York for six long months. Why he now feels shit for finding out that Petey and Spidey are one in the same. So…yeah. It gets its own quotations]

"He was right about me. What he said that night. Petey…Peter obviously still thinks that," Wade said softly, his tone tinged with dejection as he crossed the street and headed towards his favourite taco place.

{But he kissed you. Surely that's gotta mean something?}

"Yeah. It means he went to the Natasha Romanoff School For Distracting Bad-Guys. 'Cause that's all it was. He was running from the cops. He was cornered. It was an evasion tactic. It's like he said: public displays of affection make people uncomfortable."

[Really? You're going with that?]

{Are you forgetting that you were both wearing your suits at the time? Spider Man and Deadpool sucking face would surely draw more attention than your regular hiding in the shadows routine, no?}

The merc halted at those words, his blood pumping fast in his veins.

"What…what gives? Since when are you two nice to me?" he asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

[How he wounds us!]

{We're not that cruel!}

"Past experiences beg to differ," Wade replied smoothly, grabbing a shiny red apple from a cart outside a store and taking a large bite.

[Careful, Snow White. You wouldn't wanna get poisoned]

{Not before finding out what the fuck is going down between you and the webbed wonder anyway}

[Then by all means, chow down on an arsenic avocado]

{A hemlock ham}

[A belladonna burrito]

{We could do this all day}

"And there it is," the merc murmured to himself, announcing the return of the familiar dynamic as he took the final few steps towards the taco place, almost relieved that his boxes were back to their snarky selves.

When they were anything other than mean to him…it creeped him out.

And usually meant there was something very, very wrong.

"Wade?"

A familiar voice shook him from that foreboding line of thought. Slowly, Wade turned on the spot and braced himself for who stood behind him, offering him an attentive smile, her chestnut eyes shining bright.

"H-Hi, Mrs Parker. Fancy meeting you here…"


"I was wondering when you'd show up," Lucas Daniels smirked from his perch on a bench in the customised cell within the depths of Avenger Tower.

"Well, seen as you and whoever you're working for is so interested in me, I thought I may as well introduce myself properly," Peter Parker remarked as he stepped up to the glass, taking a seat and resting his hands on his knees.

The older man stared at the younger for several moments, his dark eyes a gleaming steel, boring a hole into Peter's hazel orbs. He didn't blink however, didn't flinch or turn away. He wanted to look this man in the eye, the man who had made it his mission to see him dead.

"I mean, you have been trying to kill me…way I see it, the least you owe me is a little one on one," he shrugged, opting for an air of nonchalance.

A small smirk spread across Daniel's face.

"Stark…Rogers…they care for you," he murmured, "tell me, Mr. Parker. How is it that a broke graduate student managed to gain the attention of such…influential people?"

Peter folded his arms, leaning back a little in his seat.

"I'm not here to answer your questions, Mr. Daniels. You're here to answer mine."

There was a beat of silence where the older man nodded, seemingly mulling over those words.

"Is that so?" Daniels asked eventually, eyebrows rising, "well then, by all means…ask away."

Peter's orbs narrowed. He was no fool. He knew that it wasn't that simple. The other man wasn't going to make it a cake-walk, not after being interrogated by Captain America and Iron Man to no avail.

So…he'd start of easy.

"Did you like being in the army?"

Daniels' head shot up. The brunet almost smirked with smugness. Bet he wasn't expecting that.

"What has that got to do with anything?"

His voice was tinged with poorly-concealed anger.

Peter shrugged, "it's just a question, Mr. Daniels. Call me curious."

"Oh I'd call you more than that," Daniels shot back before catching himself, schooling his incensed features into something more neutral.

Peter shifted in his seat, crossing his ankle over his knee and leaning on his elbows, his head tilted in a pensive expression.

"So you didn't like the army. Your dishonourable discharge kinda answers that question, anyway. Tell me, do you like being a patsy? A fall guy?"

A stony silence met his words.

The brunet shrugged, "'cause that's what you are. You're not the mastermind behind this. You're just the right hand man. The guy that follows orders. You know…like the not-so-good soldier you are…"

Daniels' left eye twitched.

"I'm sure good ol' Captain America already gave you the speech. You know the one. The merits of righteousness, duty, honour. Blah, blah, blah. I'll spare you. 'Cause I'm nice like that. Even to those who are trying to kill me. What can I say? It's a character flaw," he forced a laugh, winking at him, "but here's the thing, Daniels. Your people went after my aunt. And that? That I can't forgive."

Peter stood up, fists clenched tightly at his sides as he stared down into the cell, his face practically pressed against the glass.

"So unless you wanna be cellmates with The Hulk, I suggest you start answering my questions. Who do you work for?"

Daniels sat back, a huff of laughter escaping his chest.

"You've got some balls, kid. I can't say I got that impression of you from the recon. But you sure do talk the talk."

Peter inclined his head, "you think I don't walk the walk?"

A contemplative expression crossed Lucas' face.

"Had you asked me that a week ago when all I'd seen was pictures of you? No. I wouldn't have thought that you walk the walk. But…seeing you in person there's…there's just something about you. I…I get it now."

The younger man's jaw clenched.

"Get what?"

Lucas let his head fall back against the wall, his white teeth gleaming against the harsh light, the sharp hilt of his canines catching Peter's eye.

"I get what Chenko sees in you."

A soft gasp escaped the brunet against his will, the name ringing in his ears. A pit of dread rose in his stomach. Something was telling him that something wasn't quite right.

It had all been too…easy.

Still, Peter was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Biting his lip, he drew a breath.

"And who is Chen—"

"Peter? Peter are you there? There are detectives here looking for you," the voice of Professor Rickards' assistant rang throughout the room, through the PA system.

A predatory smile spread across Daniels' face.

"Guess that's your cue, Mr. Parker."

Peter glared down at the older man, fighting the urge to slam his hand against the glass.

"Don't get too comfortable, Mr. Daniels. I'll be back…" he growled before turning on his heel and making his way out of the secured room.

"I look forward to it, Peter," the assassin called after him, "I look forward to it!"


"Oh Wade, these are delicious!" May Parker hummed as she took another bite of her peanut butter and banana pancakes, grinning as the Canadian sprinkled some finely chopped chocolate chips over her plate.

"Well, you know what they say…if you're good at something, never do it for free," he winked.

[Man, that Joker is one smart guy]

{Well, Ledger's one anyway. Can't say the same about that idiot with 'Damaged' tattooed on his forehead}

[Damaged? Puh-lease. The only thing damaged about that guy is his fashion sense]

{That silver grill? Really? He makes Lil Jon look sensible}

"Of course. Sound advice," May agreed with a nod of her head, "I will honour our agreement, Mr. Wilson. Don't you worry. Now, sit. Eat," she smiled, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

It had been an interesting afternoon for Wade, to say the least. There he was, just minding his own business, making his way to Sam's Tacos, when who bumps into him, only Peter Parker's aunt. Before he knew it, he was being invited back to the grad-student-come-arachnid-superhero's childhood home for lunch and a chat. One thing led to another, and soon after devouring some homemade enchiladas, he found himself being charmed into giving the older woman his patented pancake recipe for dessert. It felt almost like some bizzaro version of some movie where he was meeting his would-be in-laws for the first time. Except for the fact that he was no bumbling Ben Stiller and his would-be-fiancé was not actually a smoking hot Teri Polo, but a vigilante that was bitten by a radio-active spider and happened to be avoiding him like the plague thus you know, not actually being present.

Needless to say, it was all making it incredibly difficult for Wade to maintain his anger and frustration towards the brunet when he was spending time with the delightful woman who raised him.

"So Wade," May began as he took a seat opposite her, tucking into his pancakes with thinly-veiled enthusiasm, "what's going on between you and my nephew?"

The Canadian choked on several mouthfuls of pancake.

[Mayday, mayday!]

{This is not a drill!}

[Danger Will Robinson!]

"Uh, what…" Wade cleared his throat noisily, "what do you mean?"

The older woman fixed him with a quirked eyebrow and unimpressed downturn of her mouth.

"Don't give me that," she pointed an accusatory finger at him, "something happened between you two. Peter has been staying here with me for the last two weeks and any time I even mention a letter of your name, he gets all tense and jumpy and changes the subject. Did you two have a fight?"

Wade swallowed nervously, eyes darting all around the room.

His fingers had been itching towards the mask in his hoodie pocket for the last hour. It was hard for him to have his face exposed for this length of time, but something about this woman made him feel a little more at ease. Now though, with the sheer mention of Peter and what may have happened between them, got him all on edge again.

[Just tell her you and her darling boy sucked face]

{And you wanted to suck so much more}

[Until you found out he was the web-slinging vigilante that you've had so many sexual fantasies about in the last five years that you could paint your entire apartment with your dick juice]

{What's the worst that could happen?}

"We…had a disagreement," he murmured slowly, his brain bouncing all over the place, half-baked plans and sentences threatening to fall from his lips as he tried to formulate a coherent response, "it's just…work stuff, you know. We'll be fine."

May folded her arms, her head tilted at an angle as she regarded the hooded man in front of her.

"A…work disagreement?" she asked, her tone suggesting that she didn't believe him in the slightest, "that's all it was?"

Wade couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, his eyes glued to the table as he nodded silently.

The older woman leapt up from the table suddenly, and if Wade were slightly less of an all-powerful-killing-machine, he would have jumped at the sudden movement.

"When Peter first came to live with my husband and I, he was a quiet little thing," she began, her back turned to him as she rolled up her sleeves to wash the dishes in the sink.

"May let me—"

"Sit! Finish your pancakes," she interrupted the merc's attempt at politeness with her stilted words and pointed finger.

Mutely, Wade did as he was told.

[Whuh tsssh]

{That was the whipped sound, BTDubs}

[She has you wrapped around her little finger]

{Wonder if she knows Al?}

[If not, let's never introduce them. Ever.]

"He barely spoke a word for the first two months he was here," May was continuing as she scrubbed a pot, her tone wistful, almost as if she was talking to herself, "it took everything Ben and I had to pull him out of it…especially after Richard and Mary died."

Wade's heart jolted in his chest at those words, fork stopped half-way to his mouth.

[So Petey's parents are dead]

{Have been since he was young}

[Poor kid]

{Why is it that every superhero's origin story needs dead parents?}

[Are orphans particularly good at ass-kicking or…?]

{We're technically an orphan}

[I'm not sure killing your own parent counts as tragic]

{Just fucked up}

[Guess we're not superhero material, after all]

{Like that was ever a possibility}

"He just…he used to sit up in his room all day long, looking through microscopes and telescopes and anything science-orientated he could get his hands on. He already wanted to be like his father, make him and his mother proud. And they would be…they would be so proud of him, as I am, and as Ben was," May paused, her shoulders sagging a little as she took a deep breath, moving onto a plate.

"When Ben died…Peter was so…angry. He wasn't just withdrawn and quiet like he was when his parents died he was…furious. He blamed himself, couldn't get over some demon that he never really told me about. I know they had a disagreement right before Ben…I don't think Peter ever forgave himself for that," she murmured, her voice tinged with an undercurrent of intense pain.

Wade stared at her back intently, wishing he could do or say anything to comfort the woman. She clearly had been put through the ringer. Had probably suffered more pain in the last twenty years than the average person would in their entire life. He could relate to that.

"After Ben…Peter changed. I—I don't know how," she paused, rubbing the back of her neck restlessly, "but he wasn't the same old Peter. He became…someone else. Someone that he has been for a long time now. And I love him. I love him so much but sometimes…sometimes I worry. It's…whatever it is that fuels him now, it's a lonely life. That's why I was so happy when he and Gwen—"

She broke off and Wade could see that she was fiercely biting her bottom lip.

"But she died too. And Peter…Peter was lost. For a long time. A darkness settled into him, a…hopelessness, almost like Gwen took all of his optimism, his joy, his vivaciousness with her when she passed. After a while, time began to heal him. Day by day he got better but…that spark that he had once, that light behind the eyes, that was extinguished…" she trailed off, turning around to face Wade finally, her dark orbs awash with unshed tears.

"But then I saw him with you," she whispered so lowly that Wade had to lean forward to hear her, his heart hammering in his chest, "and—and I know it was only for a few hours but…Wade. When Peter is around you he…he lights up. Even when you two were arguing and snarking at each other, it was the most animated I can remember him being in a very long time. The spark was back," she finished with a folding of her arms and a gentle nod, her eyes glued to the man at her kitchen table.

Wade remained rooted to the spot, feeling as if an invisible force was keeping him tied to the chair as her words sank in, seeping in through his skin and down into bone. Much like when Peter kissed him, his boxes were oddly silent, giving him a very temporary reprieve from their running commentary.

"So please…" May continued after a pause, walking towards him, "whatever it is that happened between you two…if you can…fix it. If he did you wrong, I don't expect you to just forgive him but…please consider mending fences. Peter he's—he's as stubborn as a mule like his uncle and father before him, but I know he cares about you. A blind person can see that. So just…give him another chance?" she finished, biting her lip again, her eyes still shining bright, an ounce of hope creeping into them as Wade stared up at her.

With a nod, the merc stood up, making a movement as if to clutch her hand but suddenly thinking better of it.

May's eyes cast down and slowly, she reached forward, clasping her fingers around his and squeezing ever-so-gently.

Wade stared at her, completely dumbfounded by her tenderness. A warmth spread within his chest, something he hadn't felt in a long time, awakening in him. An echo, a whisper of a long forgotten childhood, a mother who hugged him like he was the most precious thing in the world and read him bedtime stories with warm milk, her voice soft and her smile bright.

{Ah, the mother-dying-of-cancer storyline and not the…other unpleasant maternal backstory}

[Writer-lady is being kind to us]

{Don't expect that to last long}

After a moment, May smiled gently at him and began to speak, "now, time to honour our agreement, I think. I am a woman of my word. You shared your pancake recipe, so I have to hold up my end of the bargain. Just let me grab the photo album!"


It had been established over the last forty years that Tony Stark was not a patient man. Nor a patient child, nor a patient adolescent. It was just something that he, loath he admit it, was incapable of. He was used to a certain way of life, a certain luxury of getting what he wanted sooner rather than later, that years of growing up as Howard Stark's son had afforded him.

"God damn it!" he growled as another test came back inconclusive.

"Language," Bruce smirked, not looking up from his clip board as Natasha laughed and Steve rolled his eyes.

[WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring a SPOILER WARNING!]

{It's not that much of a spoiler}

[Of course it is! That's like saying that 'bet you didn't see that coming' isn't a spoiler! Are we even incorporating what happened in Age of Ultron?]

{Kinda. Not really. Writer lady picks and chooses what she wants}

[Okay then. Just—easy on the spoilers. Carry on]

{Sigh. We're not even in this scene}

"Let me guess, the tests were inconclusive?" Steve asked, tapping his chin, looking on the cusp of complete and utter boredom as he and Natasha played a game of hangman in between her sharpening her knives.

It had been a long day. Neither The Super Soldier nor The Spy wanted to be cooped up in the lab with their scientist-teammates but with Peter on the war-path and determined to fight the fight alone against Daniels, they had been reduced to waiting on test results. To say they were disgruntled would be the understatement of the century.

"I just…I have to be missing something," Tony growled, "you get anything?" he asked, turning to Banner.

Bruce frowned down at his clip board, dark eyes scanning the charts, his brow furrowed.

"Maybe…" he murmured, before stepping over to one of the computers and pulling up some data.

"Okay," he began, turning to his teammates, "on the left, are my brain waves when the big guy takes over," he pointed at the cranium that was almost completely immersed in dark reds and oranges, "and on the right are Joseph Blye's."

Stark, Romanov and Rogers took a step closer to the monitor, respective eyebrows risen.

"They're nearly identical," Natasha remarked with surprise.

"The rage…it's encapsulating," Tony added, "does this seem really familiar to anyone else?"

Bruce gave him a weighted stare.

"No, no, not just Mr. Tall, Green and Angry," he dismissed with a wave as he began to pace, "there's…there's something about this that's ringing bells for me I just can't—" Stark broke off suddenly, halting in his tracks.

Banner and Romanov shared a glance as Tony leapt towards the monitor and began typing furiously.

"Uh…care to share with the class?" his fellow scientist prompted with an intrigued tone.

Tony whipped around, his eyes alight with discovery.

"LK90!" he exclaimed as if they were just meant to understand what that meant.

"Gesundheit," Natasha murmured smoothly, not looking up, continuing to sharpen her knife.

"Come again?" Steve asked, confusion marring his features.

"LK90," Tony repeated with exasperation, "it was a…a serum, I suppose you'd call it. It showed signs of affecting people the way Blye has been affected. It was uncovered a while back, its origins unknown…the guys upstairs were working on it. Peter was working on it," he emphasised, typing out a few more words into the computer.

"What are you doing?" Bruce asked, peering over his friend's shoulder.

"Whoever dosed Blye, had to have had access to this serum in order to either replicate it or…steal it," Stark explained, "they had to be someone with high enough credentials to get close to it. As far as I know, only two people were working on it at the time. One being Peter."

"So…" Steve began, catching onto what Tony meant, "you're looking for who was working with him on it."

"Give the guy a gold star," the genius remarked sarcastically, still typing rapidly before suddenly coming to a halt, his fingers hovering over the keys.

"No that…that can't be right," he mumbled, confusion and frustration leaking into his tone as Bruce let out a noise of astonishment.

Steve and Natasha stared at the credentials that were now flashing on the screen, the latter tilting her head inquisitively.

"Who's Edward James?"


Peter swung his wheeled chair back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It had been over twenty minutes of this shit show, and his mind was slowly but steadily beginning to numb with sheer boredom.

"Are you listening to us, Parker?" the irritated voice of Detective Paul Cassidy broke through his haze.

"You tracked down Spider Man, he escaped, he is a maniac and now wanted fugitive that has threatened the lives of innocent New Yorkers and you want me to help you catch him. I miss anything?" Peter asked, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, an air of exasperation about him.

"That's the gist of it, Mr Parker," Detective Shonda Beharie said, standing up out of the chair, "we are setting up a sting for this coming Saturday night. You are integral to its success. Can you handle that?"

Peter stared at her, his mind well and truly firing off synapses now as he struggled to think of a response.

The detective must have taken his silence as compliance however as she suddenly nodded with clear intent and headed towards the door, "we will be in touch with you before then to do a full run-down of the operation. In the meantime, do not go back to your apartment. Our officers have been keeping an eye on it and on your aunt's residence, so you should be secure. But, to be safe, we recommend you don't travel anywhere other than home and work for the time being…not until Spider Man is apprehended. Is that clear?"

Peter nodded, knowing that there was no point in his voicing again how ridiculous is was for them to think that it was actually Spider Man that was trying to off him. It had fallen on deaf ears the first dozen times, why would this be any different?

"Yes ma'am," he elected to say instead, vowing to himself that he and the other Avengers would work out some way to get him out of this, but for the now, he was too preoccupied with getting back to questioning Daniels.

"Can I go now? I really need to get back to work…"

Detective Beharie gestured to the door. Peter stood up and nodded at them both before leaving the room without a backwards glance, fast and steady footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Just when he thought things couldn't get even more complicated.

At least things couldn't possibly get worse…

It was that thought that rang in his ears as he made his way back down to the basement, towards the secured cell. He had gotten a name out of Daniels. Chenko. Now it was finally time to find out who the hell that was.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Peter entered the code to the security pad and pushed open the heavy door.

"Alright Daniels, time to tell me what the hell—"

The brunet's words died in his throat as he stared at the assassin who was now kneeling down on the floor of the glass cell, looking intensely fierce and indomitable as his mouth began to foam, blood dripping from his eye sockets, leaving trails of crimson down his cheeks.

Immediately, Peter leapt towards the wall, hand pressing against a hidden panel, sounding the secret alarm connected to Tony's private facilities only open to The Avengers, before racing over to the glass, entering the security code to open the door and storming towards Daniels.

"Don't you dare die," he yelled frantically, kneeling down and clasping Daniels by the shoulders, tilting back his head, grimacing when blood and saliva spilled onto his hand.

"Don't you dare die, you bastard! Tell me who Chenko is! Tell me why they want me dead!" he roared demands at the dying man, trying to mask just how horrified he was, hoping against hope that Bruce got there in time to save the man.

Daniels stared up at him, his dark eyes classy and distant, as if he were looking at something, or someone that Peter couldn't see.

With gasping breath, he opened his mouth a fraction, pulling on Peter's shirt to weakly drag him closer to him, whispering into his ear, "schwäche von haltung wird schwäche des charakters," before his entire body went limp, collapsing back onto the floor.

"I'm here, I'm here," Bruce yelled as he ran into the room but Peter barely heard him, he instead transfixed on Daniels' frozen eyes as they stared up into nothingness.

"It's too late," he whispered, heart hammering in his chest, "he's gone…"

What was that he was saying about things getting worse?


"Oh Peter just had the cutest tushy in the whole world, didn't he?" May Parker laughed heartily as she and Wade sat by the living room fire, flicking through the albums housing her nephew's baby photos, stopping at one where the young toddler was in the bathtub.

[He still does]

{Only got better with age if you ask me}

"He would be so mad if he knew I was showing you these," the older woman continued, nudging Wade with her elbow as he had fallen oddly silent.

"What Petey doesn't know won't hurt him," the merc remarked, a small smirk on his face as he came across what appeared to be a six year old Peter dressed up as Albert Einstein for Halloween.

[Besides, we're entitled to keep some secrets from him]

{See how he likes it}

{Whoa…what do we have here?}

Wade's non-existent eyebrows rose as he pulled out a picture from the back of the photo album of a very shirtless Steve Rogers, clad in tight black boxer-shorts, smirking seductively at the camera.

[I'd know that picture anywhere! Does Petey have an X-Rated Captain America calendar?!]

{I don't know if we should be jealous or impressed}

"Oh my!" May exclaimed suddenly, sounding a mixture of surprised and embarrassed.

One look at her face told Wade that it wasn't Peter who was the proud owner of such a calendar.

"I, um, have no idea how that…" she trailed off, snatching the picture from him and shoving it under a book on the table, all while expertly avoiding his gaze.

An awkward beat of silence descended on the pair before Wade let out a snort of laughter.

"Hey, no judgement from me. Cap is one fine piece of ass," he retorted jovially, nudging her gently with his elbow, much like she did to him only moments before.

Another beat passed before she erupted with laughter, clutching his arm as she gasped out breaths.

"That he is, sweetheart. That he is!"

[You ever notice that Johnny Storm looks uncannily like Cap? The old Johnny Storm. Not the new guy. He's a basketball player]

{No. Michael Jordan is a basketball player. It's Michael B. Jordan that's Storm]

[Either way. He's hot. Ha ha, get it? 'Cause he's The Human Torch]

{Ground-breaking}

The two continued to giggle like two school-children for several minutes before May collected herself, dabbing at her eyes, an indistinguishable expression on her face as she turned to her house guest.

"So Wade do you have a…special someone?"

"You mean a someone who poses half-naked for me in photographs?" Wade asked before he could stop himself.

Instead of being horrified, the elder woman only laughed even heartier.

"Unfortunately I think even if Captain Rogers would pose for such a picture, it wouldn't be for me," she smirked before sighing, "but yes, a someone like that. Do you have one?"

Wade bit his lip, wondering how to answer such a question.

{We could go with the truth}

[That'd be a first]

{Or even a half-truth}

[Something tells me there's no point in full-out lying to this woman anyway]

"There is…someone. But we're not…we're not together," he replied quietly, staring down at his clasped hands, his scarred skin turning ghostly white as he squeezed them so hard he cut off their blood supply.

"Do you want to be with them?" she asked gently, lowering her head to try and catch his eye, her hand coming to fall atop of his, coaxing him to release his grip.

"I'm not sure he's who I thought he was," Wade responded without thinking, his eyes widening as it dawned on him what he just admitted.

If May was shocked by the male pronoun, she didn't let on.

"And are you who he thinks you are?"

That question surprised him. He took a moment to mull over her words.

[Of course we are! We've always been straight up with Spidey and Petey]

{Just not as straight as he'd like us to be, sometimes}

[Although lately, Petey seems to kinda like our not-straight times too]

{He was totally gonna kiss us}

[And then he did!]

{Ugh those soft, kissable lips…}

[Wait…what was the question?]

"I…there are some things he doesn't know about me. Some things that hardly anyone knows about me. But…but he does know me. Probably better than I've let anyone ever know me. Especially lately. But he…he didn't extend the same courtesy to me. He—he lied about something pretty big. Well, lied by omission, anyway. And he's still lying about it and I—I don't know if I can forgive that," words were just cascading from Wade like waves as May intently listened.

She shuffled a little on the couch, her brow furrowing as she thought of what to say.

"He probably has his reasons for not being one hundred per cent open with you, Wade," she began, her tone holding an air of knowingness, a wisdom that he could only ever dream of having, "but that doesn't mean he will never try and tell you as much as he can. The key is patience and willingness to take whatever the other person can give.

"Take it from someone who has been married for over thirty years. The whole 'knowing someone better than you know yourself' shtick is just that, shtick. It's not reality. You can never know anyone one hundred per cent. Life is about discovering more and more about the person you love every single day and if you're lucky, you'll learn ninety per cent about what makes them, them by the time you come to the end of your life. That ninety per cent that they choose to share with you in that time is what's important. You shouldn't get hung up on the ten percent that is just for them," she finished, patting his hand gently.

The merc stared down at their hands for a moment before slowly raising his gaze to meet hers.

"But what if what he's kept from me adds up to more than ten per cent?"

May smiled softly at him, squeezing his hand one more time.

"Then I say: screw math. If you really care about this man, and by the sound of it, you really do, then you gotta ask yourself: what's more important? This thing that he has kept from you, or you both finding a way to get passed it so you can both be happy?"

[Whoa]

"And besides," May continued with a little shrug, "like I said before, who knows. Just because he hasn't told you the big thing yet, doesn't mean he never will. Maybe all you have to do is give him some time."

{This woman should have her own talk-show}

[Move over Ricki Lake]

{Stand aside Dr. Phil}

[May Parker is comin' to town!]

"I see trees of green, red roses too, I see them bloom, for me and you. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world…"

The honeyed tones of Louis Armstrong wafted through the late-evening air from the radio placed on the kitchen counter top.

"Oh I haven't heard this song since before Ben…" May lamented softly, the rest of the sentence sticking in her throat as the flickering of the fire shadowed her eyes sadly, "we used to dance to it all the time…"

Wade listened to the lyrics for a beat before offering his hand out to her.

"Mrs Parker, may I have this dance?" he asked with a small smile, a warmth spreading in his chest as she instantly took his hand.

"You may, Mr Wilson," she grinned as they both stood up, he placing his other hand on her back while she rested her other on his shoulder, they beginning to softly sway.

"The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world…"


19:00. UNKNOWN LOCATION.

Two figures stood beside a large, black SUV, staring out into the night gloom.

"Sir…the subjects are getting worse. I think it's time that we call in the bigger guns," Agent Maria Hill said firmly as she folded her arms, coming to stand slightly closer her boss.

"Stark will be pissed," Former-Director Nick Fury replied, lighting up a cigar, "almost makes me wish we called them in sooner, just to see the look on his face," he finished with a smirk, taking a long drag.

"Pissed or not, his expertise is needed," Hill responded, staring at the data now flashing up on her phone.

"And the others, they'll be needed too," he nodded, gesturing to the screen. "Romanov and Barton on recon, Banner on research with Stark, Thor can have a chat with that all-seeing friend of his and Cap can do what Cap does best…keep them all in line."

Maria typed into her phone before pocketing it.

"And what about Parker, Sir?"

Fury tilted his head, exhaling enough smoke to form a large, dark cloud around them.

"Parker can handle himself. And besides, I hear Wilson is cosying up to him, if Coulson's intel is anything to go by."

The agent frowned, wondering if she heard him correctly.

"Wilson, Sir? Is that…really a good idea?"

Nick shrugged, stubbing out the cigar and turning to her.

"They're grown men, Hill. Who am I to tell them what they can and can't do? Or who, for that matter. Now get Stark on the phone. Let's get this over with…"


"No. No way!" Peter Parker exclaimed loudly as he paced back and forth in the lab, shaking with barely-controlled vehemence.

"It makes sense, Peter. Eddie worked alongside you on the LK90 experiments. If you had have continued with the research, you would have exposed his plot to steal it and do god knows what with it. Clearly dosing people like Blye was on the cards. It all fits," Tony Stark was trying to reason with him, following his pacing with beady eyes.

"That's bullshit and you know it!" the younger man spat, whirling around at his boss, his eyes ablaze with anger.

"You have absolutely no proof that Eddie had anything to do with this! I know him, Stark! He wouldn't ever do anything like—"

"He hasn't shown up for work today. Or yesterday. Or the day before," Stark cut across him, his tone razor sharp, yet his eyes seemed hollow, as if he didn't want to believe his own words, "when Clint dug into him, his records, financials…he's in serious debt, Peter. His student loans alone mount up to over a hundred thousand dollars. But if he were to steal the LK90 and its tech—"

"And is there any indication that anything has been stolen? The serum or the tech?" Peter interjected bitingly, jabbing a finger at Stark.

"Jarvis is doing inventory as we speak," Tony responded with a wave of his hand, "Clint and Natasha left a while ago to go to pick Eddie up at his place. At the very least, we need to ask him some questions."

Peter shook his head in disbelief, glaring at Tony before turning to Bruce.

"And you by all this, do you?"

Banner had the decency to look more than a little sheepish.

"Hey, I'm of the opinion of innocent until proven guilty. I hope we're wrong. Eddie is a good kid. I helped recruit him," he shrugged, turning back to his notes and breaking eye contact.

Peter continued to stare at him for a moment, before jumping back into motion.

"Okay, I'll bite. Let's just say for the argument's sake that somehow Eddie is Chenko. Or at least someone working with Chenko. Then who poisoned the dead guy lying on a slab in our basement? You said Eddie hasn't been here in a few days. So who could have gotten to Daniels?"

Stark and Banner shared a glance before Rogers piped up for the first time, clearing his throat.

"He could have had a cyanide capsule on him that we missed. We won't know for sure until Bruce finishes the autopsy."

Before anyone could comment on that, the shrill tone of a cell phone broke through the tension-filled air.

With a nod, Stark took out his phone and stepped away from them, just as Clint and Natasha made their way into the room, towards them.

Peter whirled around to meet them, staring frantically between the two.

"James is not at home. We've checked all his usual haunts, his parents' house, his friend's houses…looks like he hasn't been seen or heard from in over two days," Romanov remarked with folded arms as Barton took a breath.

"Which leaves us with two options," he began, staring intently at Peter, "he has either skipped town, or he's missing…"

Peter gaped at him, not believing the words that were coming out of his mouth.

This couldn't be happening…

Before anyone could breathe, Stark made his way back into the room, looking stricken.

The youngest team member frowned at him as he met his gaze, his expression, for once, appearing apologetic.

"I'm sorry, kid. That was Fury. Something big is goin' down and he needs us immediately."

Peter's mouth dropped open.

"He can't be serious! Does he know somebody is trying to kill me? I can't just up and leave my aun—"

"Not you, kid. He just needs the rest of the team. You gotta stay here," Tony cut across him lowly, the words practically having to be pulled from him, a look of discomfort etched onto his face.

Peter looked at each of his team members in turn, astonished by the news.

Where was Thor when you needed him? At least he would share in his overwhelming sense of frustration at the circumstances. Like his adopted brother, he always had a flair for the dramatic, that son of Odin.


"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me…"

Peter frowned as he heard the dulcet tone of Mama Cass wafting from the kitchen as he got home, bone tired and weary from one hell of a bad day.

"What the…?" he muttered under his breath as more than one shadow caught his attention from the living room.

Spidey senses not picking up any danger, he was still on guard as he neared the door, edging it open quietly and gaping at the sight that greeted him.

There, right in front of him, were his aunt and none other than Wade Wilson, dancing together, swaying back and forth, Wade twirling May around as she laughed, throwing her head back with glee. Peter found himself transfixed by this, surprised at how her eyes were alight with mirth. It was only the booming laugh that managed to break his trance though, re-focusing his attention on the merc.

Wade seemed more carefree than Peter could ever remember seeing him. His hoodie was down off his head, gone completely in fact, his face, neck and arms entirely exposed, his scarred skin illuminated by the embers of the fire as he wore just a white T-shirt and jeans. He didn't seem to mind though, as he continued to twirl his aunt around and around, his entire body moving fluidly, he clearly having some skill in dancing.

The brunet found himself staring intently at the other man's body, watching as the muscles contracted and expanded, contracted and expanded. A heat pooled in his stomach, the same heat that he had been actively ignoring for the last two weeks, every time his mind tried to cast back to the moment where he went temporarily insane and kissed Deadpool.

Peter bit his lip as he tried to stamp down the desire that was rising in his chest to go over to Wade and do just that all over again. Damn the consequences…

"Peter! You're home! " May's sudden exclamation snapped him from his reverie, startling him.

"Uh…hi," he mumbled lamely, rubbing the back of his head, avoiding eye contact with both of them.

He could feel Wade's gaze on him, the merc now standing stock still, his hands in fists at his sides.

Peter knew it would be awkward seeing him again after what happened. It was mostly why he had been avoiding him for the last two weeks, but what he didn't anticipate was how his heart sped up rapidly in his chest and his palms began to sweat.

Pull yourself together, Parker. You're not a twelve year old girl with a crush on her teacher for fuck's sake!

"Wade here is quite the dancer," Aunt May was saying with a smile, "he's been helping me get back into the swing of things. Literally!" she laughed at her joke, before her eyes averted to something on the couch, her expression growing sheepish.

Peter followed her gaze and was horrified by what he saw.

"Are those my baby pictures?!" he exclaimed, a flush rising in his cheeks as his eyes found Wade's.

"Peter Middle Name Parker, are you blushing?!"

The younger man glared at him as he chortled, folding his arms across his wide chest, his biceps flexing.

Which is something Peter absolutely did not notice.

"I'm…I'm going to take a shower," he opted to say instead of latching onto Wade's bate.

He didn't wait for a response before bolting up the stairs and into the bathroom. Closing the door with a snap, he leaned over and turned on the shower before sitting down on the toilet seat and pulling out a fleshly bought burner-phone.

He had formulated a plan on his way home. Since Fury had spirited away the rest of his team mates, whether he liked it or not, he now needed Deadpool's help to try and track down Eddie and get to the bottom of the whole Chenko situation once and for all. So he bought a burner phone from the store a block away and was now putting the next part of his plan into motion, his thumbs tapping away at the buttons.

He'd have to be careful sneaking out. The police detail was still out front of the house, watching. While it did wonders for his peace of mind that his Aunt May would be safe while he was gone, it didn't make things any easier on him to try and implement a meet with Deadpool.

Still, he had to try.

His, his aunt, and probably Eddie's life depended on it…


Wade stared down at his cell phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. He had almost had a heart attack when he had read the message for the first time twenty minutes ago, and still, even now, the words erupted a frantic sense of unease in him.

Deadpool, it's Spider Man. I need your help. I'm in trouble. Can't go into more detail here. Meet me where we first met five years ago. The lives of innocent people depend on it. If that doesn't interest you, I'll pay you. Either way, please come. Please.

Needless to say, Wade had made his excuses to May and quickly left the Parker residence.

He couldn't help but wonder how Peter was managing to escape from the house without using his Spidey-powers and with a police detail right out front. Colour him curious. So he made his way downtown, heading towards the familiar building where he had met the web-slinger so long before.

Sam's Tacos.

Scaling the building was always going to be the easy part. It was the waiting around that was slowly killing him. He knew it would be difficult seeing Peter again after everything that had happened, after everything that he had learned. He had agonized every night for two weeks straight about how he would feel when he was in the same room as him again and honestly, he was annoyed with himself.

Because he wanted to be pissed at him.

He wanted to be childish and petty and bitter.

But all he was, was yearning.

Seeing Peter in the flesh again brought back all the feelings he had felt that night, they all rushing through his veins at once, like a shot of adrenaline.

Excited. Nervous. Horny. So. Very. Horny.

"Thanks for coming," a very familiar (seriously, how did he never notice that before?) voice wafted through the gloomy, night air.

"Well, when you get a mysterious text out of the blue, it's kinda hard to ignore…especially if it's from the guy that stuck his tongue down your throat the last time you saw him."

[Wow, okay. We're going there already?]

{What? Petey's the only one that's allowed have any fun fucking with the narrative?}

[Good point]

Wade smirked as he saw Peter misstep, faltering a little before straightening, smoothing out his suit.

Clearing his throat, Spider Man rubbed the back of his neck. Another familiar gesture.

[Seriously. How did the big guy not connect the dots sooner?]

{It's so goddamn obvious!}

"I…I'm sorry about that. It uh…wasn't cool to just spring that on you. Consent is important and…I uh, I shouldn't have just kissed you like that. I panicked and I'm sorry," he replied, his tone utterly sincere.

Wade folded his arms, tilting his head at him.

Peter shuffled his feet nervously, clearly uncomfortable at the other man's continued silence.

"I promise next time I'll ask your permission," he laughed before halting, as if just realising what he said.

"I-I mean—"

"I'll hold you to that, Spidey," Wade winked, zipping up his hoodie and shoving his hands in his pockets. "So, not that this awkward flirting isn't adorable as hell and all but, care to fill me in on why I'm really here?"

Peter seemed relieved to have something else to focus on and immediately launched into what was going on and what he had missed today.

Wade tried to not grow frustrated as Peter continued to omit pivotal details from his account. As far as he could gather, he was saying that he (Spidey) was there today when Daniels was killed and he (Peter) was in even more danger now that his (Peter's) colleague was missing. And he (Spidey) couldn't do much about it because he (Spidey) was now considered a fugitive for allegedly trying to kill him (Petey) and other New Yorkers. The police even being so convinced of this that they were now setting up a sting on Saturday to catch him (Spidey).

[Wow. This whole Spidey/Petey thing is gonna get confusing]

{Makes me almost wish the big guy could go back to thinking they are two different people}

"Okay so, what you're saying is, now that the rest of wonder-team have bailed on you to do fuck knows what for Fury, you're what…calling in the last resort?" Wade couldn't help but ask, his tone laden with bitterness.

Peter took a step forward, holding up his gloved hands, "no, no Wade. That's not it. I—look, I know things haven't been…great, with us, not in a long time but…I really do need your help. Peter is in danger. So is his aunt and probably Eddie James. I can't do this alone, not with the cops thinking I'm some sort of murdering maniac—"

"I couldn't possibly imagine how that feels," the merc interjected with heavy sarcasm, eyes checking out his cuticles nonchalantly.

"I know you know how it feels…it's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. To…fix things between us. To apologize. You…you deserve better, Deadpool. I've been beyond shitty to you, longer than two weeks ago. And I don't deserve your help, not after everything that happened last year. But I'm asking you to do this for Peter. For his aunt. For anyone else that this Chenko person may hurt with the LK90. Please," he finished, his fingers itching towards his mask.

That prompted Wade to speak up, despite his heart being in his throat at the brunet's pleading.

"As for the cops gunnin' for ya, you could just walk around without the mask. That way, you won't be recognised. Hell, you may have been a while back, but technically, as of now, you don't even look like you," he shrugged, gesturing in the vague direction of his face.

"What?" Peter asked, his tone tinged with confusion.

"You've been re-cast, dude."

[As an ACTUAL teenager, too. Not a thirty-something playing sixteen.]

{Makes us feel dirty}

[Asia Buttercup is a weird ass name, too]

{Asa Butterfield}

[That's what I said]

"I—I don't know what that means," Peter replied slowly, "but I…I have an identity to protect. I can't put my loved ones in danger by exposing who I am. Nothing means more to me than protecting them."

"Not even the city you love?" the merc couldn't help but ask.

The superhero seemed hesitant, nervous.

"Protecting this city is my job. My loved ones are my life. I—I've experienced first-hand what it's like to lose someone I care about to this job. I never want to go through that again. So, no. Exposing my identity, fighting crime like Tony Stark or Steve Rogers or you…that's not an option for me. Ever."

Wade's heart panged painfully in his chest at the brunet's words. He remembered what May had told him, all the tragedy that Peter had gone through in his short life. Losing his parents, then his uncle, then Gwen.

At least part of him could see why he still chose to fight crime from behind the safety of a mask.

He decided at that moment, that at least for now, he'd cut the guy some slack.

"Alright then, Spidey. I'm in. What's the plan?"


A large, discoloured droplet dripped from a leaky water pipe, down onto a dirty, gravelled floor. A hunched figure tied to a chair stared at the droplet, his dark eyes shifting nervously from it to around the sparse room.

Any second now…

"And how are we this evening, Mr James?" a disembodied voice wafted from the shadows, startling the man in the chair.

He gave up trying to respond long ago, the gag in his mouth preventing him from doing so.

Surprisingly however, the owner of the robotic voice drew nearer to him than ever before, a gloved hand reaching out and pulling the gag down from around his mouth so he could speak.

"Please, why are you doing this?" Eddie asked, hating the hilt of desperation in his tone.

It had been nearly three days now since he was abducted from outside his apartment on his way to work. He desperately hoped that someone, anyone was looking for him, although a bit of despair was steadily rising from the depths of his stomach.

Most of his family lived on the other side of the country, his parents on a round-the-world trip for the last two months and his sister being deployed in Afghanistan. As for friends, his roommate Monty was so stoned most of the time that he would hardly notice if he himself was abducted let alone Eddie, and Peter, his work friend, had been oddly distracted lately. He had also told his colleague that he hadn't been feeling well so everyone there would probably presume that he was sick.

So really, odds were that nobody was looking for him.

That sickening sense of dread rose ever higher in his gut.

"Oh Eddie, no, no. You misunderstand. You won't be asking the questions here. I will," the voice continued, its mechanical manner more than a little unnerving.

Despite it being an obvious voice-modulator, something about it rang familiar with Eddie. Even being terrified, he couldn't help but ignore that gut feeling. The curiosity.

"Who are you?" he croaked, not caring that he was asking another question.

A haunting laugh erupted from the figure as they suddenly stepped into the light, it harsh and bright like that of a flashlight being directly shone into someone's eyes.

Squinting, the scientist fought to catch a glimpse of the person's face. When he did, his whole world ground to a screeching halt.

"You can call me Chenko…" a very ordinary and even more familiar voice murmured as the voice modulator was disconnected from the neck and dropped onto the ground, it falling with a clatter at Dr. Selena Rickard's feet.


DUN DUN DUN! Holy plot-twist-radioactive-man! Another huge chapter to apologise for the long wait. Hope you enjoyed! As always, thanks to MyTrexHasFleas for being amazing in all her advice. Go read her stuff, it's amazing!

Hot as fuck too. Especially that Mitchers fic.

Yep! And now they can totally get married in Ireland, too!

If they weren't…you know…fictional.

Don't ruin my fun, Wade or so help me, you and Petey won't have a Winter Wedding!

NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:

"Why am I really Watson, though? And don't say it's 'cause I'm short or I swear to God—"

"Because I'm the protagonist in this story, Peter. That's why," the merc retorted, arms folded.

"Everyone is the protagonist in their own story, Wade."

"Wow Petey, that was very profound. You should write greeting cards."

[Or be a motivational speaker]

{'How to lie to someone's face about everything and anything in 3 easy steps'}