Monday, Wade is still on cloud nine. The break had been exceptionally good, and not just because of sneaky handjobs at naptime. Friday, Bob called to let them know that they've worked a bit of magic to rent the house to Wade and Weasel until the closing proceedings could be completed—which was great. Weasel is doing all the paperwork to get the electric and water turned on while Wade is in class, and Wade plans to head to the hardware store on Tuesday to put in an order for sheet-rock and other materials to get the bedrooms finished. They have two weeks to get everything done, and Wade intends to do it in one.
Saturday, there were twelve in Wade's self-defense class with the initial core group taking on mentoring roles—which was wonderful. Stature and Miss America both squared off with him for demonstration purposes, and he's not so sure he didn't get a bruised rib from how hard Miss America kicked him through the padded gear. Cypher was in the middle of making a website for the group, too, with plans to have a sort of hotline in case of emergencies. Wade is not involved with that part of it, but he likes the idea.
Sunday, Wade finished the final touches on his personality paper and got most of the atoms for his molecule molded. He made 45 Death Stars: 11 in Strawberry (oxygen), 12 Black Cherry (carbon), and 22 White Raspberry (hydrogen). He still needs to put it all together into an overall molecular form, but the hard part is complete.
Wade didn't see Peter after Thanksgiving Day. Peter drove took Gwen back to Manhattan and stayed a couple days to visit friends from NYU. Still, there was plenty of texting and one phone call that resulting in the need to change the sheets. Peter Parker, mild mannered chemistry professor, is a master of dirty phone sexing and Wade can't wait to find out how good he is at all the sexing.
Two weeks. Two class periods. The finish line is in sight.
As soon as Wade and Kate get to campus, Stature is there to meet up with them, and as they walk into the building, some of the others from the class give Wade and Kate a fist bump as they head to Psychology. Seriously, Wade is pretty sure he is creating a small army of violent women, and he is pretty sure it will be a highlight in his memoirs.
Strangely, even though all of his classes are starting to talk about Finals, Wade doesn't feel the stress he did with midterms. He's pretty relaxed about the whole thing, mainly because he's kept his grades high. All of his classes, he's managed to maintain a 90% or higher even with all the stress and bullshit. Really, Wade's happy.
Kate, on the other hand, is starting to get a little frazzled by everything. She's struggling to stay on target, and Wade knows that there are a lot of factors in that. The one that she talks about the most is that she has yet to declare a major. Wade wishes he was more knowledgeable about the academic process and could somehow help, but the only thing he can do is rally her to keep going.
Wade coasted through the day until Chemistry. Peter sent out a class-wide email about the lab final, for which they were to bring a clear glass bottle which they would chemically silver. Due to Wade's brief attempt at being an alcoholic, he had a few clear bottles at his disposal. The one he chose was in the shape of a skull with a slight iridescent sheen. The email also said that Peter would not be the one grading this lab; that would be the job of Dr. Banner.
Dr. Banner is the only one in the room when Wade arrives. Wade gave him a quick wave before getting his materials out of his backpack and taking his seat with eye protection in place. Rather than the usual instructions written out in Peter's precise handwriting, there is a projection on the whiteboard of the lab procedure. Wade starts copying everything down as others enter the room.
Peter arrives just as Dr. Banner starts verbally going over the instructions for the final. They will be graded on proper lab procedures, calculations, and final product. Unlike many of their labs, there will be no group work other than in handling some of the chemicals which will require two people.
Wade works his way through the steps, always mindful of safety (especially with the hydrochloric acid). It is tedious, but not difficult. Even the math feels simple after his semester in Intermediate Algebra. Wade figured the amount of glucose water, sodium hydroxide, ammonia, and silver nitrate with great ease.
The final step, after putting the silver nitrate and and sodium hydroxide in the bottle, is for Professor Parker to add the ammonia. Despite the careful calculations, the ammonia is added a drop at a time until the mixture in the bottle turns clear, and Wade is instructed to cork it and shake it for approximately ten minutes.
"Pace yourself," Peter says with a smirk. "Don't want to wear yourself out."
Wade chuckles, shaking the bottle at about hip level. "I've had plenty of practice with this motion, professor. Shake weight is an awesome workout."
Peter just shakes his head, and Wade heads back to his table to finish shaking.
Wade lets his mind wander while he shakes the bottle, watching the other students in the room. One of the guys at his table (who he still doesn't know the name of) had to restart after adding chemicals in the wrong order. He wasn't the only one, either. A kind of cowboy looking kid dropped his bottle right after rinsing the acid and he had to make a run to get another.
It was pretty cool watching the bottle slowly develop a silver shine. It happened slowly at first, but after about five minutes the whole bottle started to look like a mirror. Amy (the only one Wade managed to learn the name of in the class) was grinning as her small ink bottle did the same thing. They were talking about potential uses for their containers (Wade planned to make a lamp), when there was a sudden shout.
Wade looked up to see the guy from his table staring in slight horror at his hand. Wade could see the bottle of acid and the slowly forming puddle and he knew. He just knew what had happened.
Immediately, Wade set aside his bottle and grabbed the kid by the back of the shirt and ushered him to one of the sink and told him to put his hands under the water. The kid's hands were shaking, and Wade wasn't sure if he got acid on just one or both by the way he was acting.
"Fuck, it burns!" the kid gasped. "It fucking burns!"
Wade can see the kid's skin reddening and blistering. "Did it get on your clothes?"
"No!" he practically screams. "Goddamn it fucking burns!"
"Keep his hands under the water," Dr. Banner says to Wade in that smashy-tone that Peter mentioned. Wade nodded, having to forcefully keep the kid from taking his hands from under the spray.
"My skin! My fucking skin!" he keeps saying, and Wade can feel his head starting to get cloudy. He looks over his shoulder, desperate to get someone else to take over this job. Anyone, but the rest of the class is across the room because there's acid splashed everywhere and Peter is working to clean it up and Dr. Banner is getting someone from the medical office.
Wade focuses on his breathing. His mind is screaming a mantra of Stay in the present! Stay in the present! Stay in the present! But he can feel himself wanting to slip away. Still, he fights it. He blinks away the fire and sand because this kid, whoever the fuck he is, needs someone to do his thinking for him, and Wade was the one who jumped into action. Wade always jumps into action, but this is one time that he almost regrets it.
It feels like an eternity passes before the nursing staff arrives to take over, and from there, Wade has no idea what happens because he needs to get out of the room. Dr. Banner is in the middle of a lecture on lab safety and this incident being a prime example of carelessness, and Wade doesn't listen.
Out in the hallway, Wade tries to keep his breath slow and even, but his heart is pounding. His chest hurts. His fingertips are starting to go numb, and all Wade wants is for the screaming in his head to stop. But it isn't the kid's screaming; it's his own. It's that litany, that painful repetition of agony, and Wade can't shake it.
Wade feels for the wall, needing something, anything to steady him because there was so much happening behind his eyes that he was having a hard time seeing. All he could smell was that acrid scent of burnt skin and chemical fire and screams. So many fucking screams! Not just him, but Dog and Kid. Those hopeless, helpless screams that haunt his nightmares. His breathing was harsh. He could hear the roughness of it, just barely, over the thick sound of blood pumping in his ears and the roar of fire...
The desert road looks the same as all the others. Flat, rocky, almost white under the blazing sun with nothing to relieve the eyes except the occasional dust-covered shrub. It's hot as hell, and Wade is riding shotgun. Wanda's in the driver's seat. Head and Kid are in the back making jokes about Dog's girlfriend. Typical. Normal.
And then nothing is normal. All Wade feels is the bump-thump of the tires hitting something, and then there's fire and heat. His ears are ringing from the concussive force of the blast. In a split second, Wade has time to come to terms with his fate. He's always known that death was part of the job, and he's dodged that bullet (metaphorically, because he's been shot plenty of times) so far. But not this time, and that's fine. He's calm because there is nothing else to be when your light is going out. In an instant, Wade is ready to meet his maker.
He's dazed. And very much not dead. He can see Dog laying a few feet away, chest tore open and lifeless. Somewhere, someone is screaming. It feels like slow motion as Wade tries to push himself up from the ground, but his left shoulder is out of place and the right arm is broken. Still, he pushes through the pain and uses those shattered limbs to pull himself away from the fire. Except the fire is coming with him. He's the one on fire. And he's screaming. It's a sound so inhuman he doesn't even recognize it as his own voice.
Wade tries to roll, tries to put it out, but he can't move. He just can't MOVE. But he can see. He can see Dog lying dead a few feet away. He can see Kid staring at the empty place where his left leg is supposed to be. It doesn't feel real. It feels like his worst nightmare.
It feels like Hell.
For the first time, Wade wishes he were dead if only to make the pain stop. If only to get the image of one of his best friend's lifeless eyes out of his head. If only to stop smelling his own flesh burning away. If only to stop...
A touch on Wade's shoulder startles him, and blindly he swings an elbow back, colliding with something solid. Something human that lets out a yelp. And Wade looks. He looks through the haze of all those nightmares and he sees Peter on the ground.
And like a splash of water to the face, Wade snaps out of the flashback and into another nightmare. Peter is wincing, a hand holding his ribs.
"Fuck," Wade blurts as all the air rushes out of him.
Peter is wide eyed, and he asks, "Are you okay?"
Wade can't speak. He can't even think. Everything in him is screaming to run away because he just fucking hit Peter! There's something stinging in his eyes, and Wade shakes his head and he backs away and shudders out, "Fuck! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I...I'm..."
The whole world is spinning, and his chest is so tight. Wade can feel the panic taking over. He knows what it is. He recognizes it, but it is consuming him just as much as the fire did. Body on autopilot, Wade makes a shaky run to the bathroom and throws up in the trash. His whole body is heaving, and it feels like his eyes are going to come out of his sockets.
Wade is sweating and feels ice cold inside. He feels like he's having a heart attack.
He feels like a monster because he hit Peter.
Then he hears Peter's voice behind him say, "Wade?"
And Wade can't even bring himself to turn around as he whimpers, "I'm sorry."
"I'm fine," Peter says as he steps closer, coming into Wade's range of vision. "Are you okay?"
Wade squeezes his eyes shut and leans against the wall. The wall is cool and Wade tries to anchor himself to that feeling, because that is the present. The present is the bathroom of the Baxter Science and Technology Building at New Salem Community College. He is safe and he is not on fire. He breathes deep, letting the cool air come into his lungs, along with the scent of toilet bowl cleaner and hand soap and the slight acrid aroma of his own vomit.
Again, he says, "I'm sorry."
Peter comes to his side and very slowly and carefully puts his hand on Wade's forearm. It is a gentle touch. Calming. He says, "Tell me what just happened."
Wade's eyes are stinging, and he says for the fifth time, "I'm sorry."
Peter's hand comes up to cup Wade's chin, and finally Wade looks at him. At first, Wade is afraid because he expects to see anger and disgust. He expects to see in Peter's eyes what Wade sees in himself on his darkest days. But that isn't what he sees. He sees concern and kindness, and it almost hurts.
"It was that kid… He just…" Wade swallows hard and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes as if somehow he can make the images go away. "I can't explain it. I can't… Goddammit! I want this to fucking stop!"
Peter puts a hand over Wade's thundering heart, rubbing gentle, soothing circles, and Wade can feel the tightness start to loosen. Part of him wants to fight the comfort, because he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve it from someone he just struck because he can't fucking control his own mind.
"I'm fucked up, Peter," Wade says as the tears start to fall. "I'm fucked up, and I probably always will be. My brain is a minefield, and shit just sets things off. Sometimes I can stop it, but sometimes… Sometimes I can't… Sometimes I can't even remember where I am because I'm somewhere else five years ago and thousands of miles away."
"I told you before; this isn't a deal breaker," Peter says, and Wade knows he means it because Peter Parker doesn't know how to be anything but sincere.
Wade asks in a weak voice, "But what if it's worse next time? What if I really hurt you?"
"You won't," Peter says, not an ounce of doubt.
"But if I do—"
"If you do, I will know that it isn't because you wanted to." Peter's hand is still over Wade's heart, and he says, "And I'll learn. I'll learn how to recognize the signs and know what to do. I'll become an expert in taking care of you because I love you, Wade."
Something wonderful happens at those words, because Wade can feel everything inside go silent. Wade covers Peter's hand with his own, holding tightly as his heart rate finally starts to slow. When he takes a breath, it doesn't hurt. They stay like that. Still. Breathing.
Then Peter says, "I need to go back to the lab. Make sure everything is good there. If you need to leave, go ahead. I'll see you in an hour or so, okay?"
Wade looks at him, and bewildered says, "You… You want to come over?"
"If you're good with that, yes," Peter says.
"It's good with me," Wade says.
Peter kisses him. It is a soft kiss to the corner of Wade's mouth, almost chaste. "I'll see you soon."
Wade stays in the bathroom for a little while longer, just to compose himself. The shakiness in his limbs is still there. He feels like he had a sudden case of the flu, complete with miraculous healing, though the residual effects remain. By the time he walks back to the lab, everyone is gone except for Dr. Banner and Peter.
Wade's silver skull is still sitting where he left it, and Dr. Banner says, "I went ahead and finished off the project for you."
"Yeah, uh… Sorry about that," Wade says. "I guess I kind of failed this one."
Dr. Banner flickers a smile and says, "That is not my assessment. Thank you for being so quick to take action."
Wade just nods and leaves the room. When he gets to the apartment, Kate is sitting at the counter doing homework. She looks at him and immediately asks, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Wade says. "Just… Just not feeling well."
"Do you need anything?" Kate asks.
Wade shakes his head. "No. I'll be fine." He walks to the hall, then says, "Peter says he's stopping by. Just so you're not surprised."
"Thanks for the warning," Kate says. Then she smirks and asks, "Do I need my earbuds for the night?"
Wade shakes his head again, and continues to his room where he collapses onto his bed. It is as if every ounce of energy has left. Taking off his shoes feels like a monumental effort, so he curls up still fully clothed with his little voodoo doll in hand. He turns on the small aroma diffuser on his bedside table and hits the button that turns on his Nate-prescribed meditation music. All of these things are meant to calm and soothe, and sometimes they actually work.
Still, Wade startles awake when the doorbell rings. He can hear muffled conversation, and a minute later there's a soft knock on his door.
"Enter," Wade says groggily.
Peter comes inside and closes the door. He has a bag on his shoulder which he sets at the foot of Wade's bed. Then he takes off his shoes and gets in bed beside Wade, maneuvering himself up against Wade's back with his arms around Wade's torso.
Wade wasn't sure what he expected, but it definitely wasn't cuddling. Still, it is nice. And he manages to say, "I'll have you know I'm rarely the little spoon."
Peter laughs softly. "You strike me as an aggressive little spoon."
Wade huffs. "Oh, just shut up and cuddle me, dammit."
Peter tightens his hold on him, and whispers, "I rest my case."
On any normal occasion where Wade has a vivid flashback with accompanying panic attack, the only thing that really relaxes him is extensive time alone. Somehow, Peter Parker seems to be the exception to that rule because Wade falls asleep. It's still early, and Wade figures that Peter will be gone when he wakes. Instead he wakes with his head against Peter's side, and Peter is reading a comic book on his tablet.
"Nerd," Wade says as he loops his arm around Peter's waist.
"You're the one who suggested I read Preacher," Peter says with a chuckle. "Cassidy is hilarious. There aren't enough Irish vampires in the world."
"I'm kind of partial to Arse-face," Wade says.
Peter sets aside the tablet, and asks, "You hungry?"
Wade's stomach answers with a growl. He laughs and says, "Maybe?"
They go out to the living room where Weasel and Kate are playing Dr. Robotnik's Mean Bean Machine. There is pizza on the counter, and Wade and Peter grab a slice and stand by watching the bean battle. Kate is a shit-talker, and Weasel is focused because she's bombarding him with extra beans. They are so wrapped up in the game that they don't notice Peter and Wade until Weasel is defeated.
Weasel is the first to see them, and he says, "Oh, hi! Didn't mean to wake you lovebirds. You feeling better, babe?"
"Just fine, schnookums," Wade replies.
Peter just laughs.
Weasel gets up and walks to the kitchen, and after grabbing another soda he walks to Wade and asks in a low voice, "Seriously, are you okay?"
"Kinda had one of my drowning days," Wade says.
Weasel nods and motions to Peter to come closer. He says something to him that Wade can't hear, followed by a stern look, and then he asks Wade, "Wanna jump in? Show that evil menace child of ours who's boss of the beans?"
"In your dreams!" Kate calls over her shoulder.
"Nah," Wade says. "I'm still kind of out of it."
Wade and Peter eat and watch Weasel and Kate play a couple more rounds. Then the four of them watch an episode of Gotham before Wade is again struggling to keep his eyes open. So he and Peter return to his room. Only this time, they both put on clothing more suitable for sleeping. There was no real discussion about Peter staying the night; it just was kind of a given. And Wade can't help but be amused that Peter's sleep pants are covered in Green Lantern emblems.
They crawl back under the covers, nestled up together.
As they both start to relax into sleep, Wade asks, "What did Weas say earlier?"
Peter smiles. "He told me to take care of you."
Wade shakes his head. He loves his friends. He loves them a lot. Which reminds him… "You know, with all this stress today, I kind of forgot to tell you something."
"What?" Peter says, resting his forehead against Wade's.
Wade clears his throat. "I, uh...I love you, too."
"I know," Peter says.
Wade kisses him, holding him close and letting all of Peter's warmth fill him up. And best of all, he really believes that Peter loves him. He must love him to want to put up with Wade's special level of fucked up. Especially since Peter doesn't really see him as fucked up at all. For someone to see him at his absolute worst and to not run for the hills?
That… That's kind of magic. It's the best kind of magic.
And yeah, Wade didn't imagine that the first night he spent with Peter Parker would be after having a crazy-ass flashback and they would spend the whole night in their superhero jammies cuddling in a strictly PG-13 way, but really, he wouldn't change it for the world.