"It's suspicious," Peter muttered, glancing at the phone in his hand. He checked the address on the open message once more before locking the phone and continuing on his way.

[So Wade got a phone call. Big deal.]

"It was the way he reacted," Peter snapped.

It was a few days after Fury had apologized to Peter. He and Wade had spent those few days together, playing video games and watching movies. And sex, of course. That is, until Wade had received a phone call early in the morning. He'd spent the rest of the day tense and anxious, so Peter had stolen his phone when Wade's attention was elsewhere.

There had been a text from an unknown number, and seeing as Wade was nowhere to be found in the tower, Peter thought it was a safe bet that his boyfriend (and yes, he did still get a little thrill up his spine every time he thought the word) was at the address the message indicated.

The fact that the message said "Bring the Spider" was hardly comforting.

So Peter had done what he did best – he'd escaped the tower without raising any alarms. Mimic had nodded at him when he passed, the worry in her eyes carefully hidden away the moment Peter looked away.

If Mimic was worried, it meant she knew something he didn't. Which in turn meant that she'd read someone else's mind, because Peter knew Mimic couldn't read Wade's. Which Avenger – or Avengers – were with Wade on this? Whatever 'this' was.

[Maybe he just suddenly got tired of looking at you.]

{We're not the prettiest thing going around, that's for sure.}

"That's not it and you know it. Stop being ridiculous." Peter eyed the very obviously abandoned building, complete with broken windows and crumbling foundations. "Well, nothing screams 'trap!' quite like this."

[But yes, let's go in anyway.]

"Wade's in there."

{He's not stupid! He wouldn't be in there.}

That was when Peter caught sight of the familiar red and black suit in one of the windows. He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that, Yellow? Because it looks like he's in there to me."

{What are you waiting for? Let's go!} Yellow yelled.

Peter entered the building cautiously. He could hear voices and moved towards them, keeping in the shadows. He caught sight of Wade, wearing his suit and armed to the teeth, walking towards a greasy looking man with blackened teeth. Peter could smell him already.

The smelly man peered around. "The Spider didn't come with you? The instructions were most clear." Peter bristled at the implication that Wade was an idiot.

"No. This is a setup," Wade said. "I'm not playing into your employer's hands."

"You knew that and you still came?" the man asked, his voice mocking. "You really are as stupid as they say." Okay. Now Peter really wanted to kill him.

"No," Wade replied calmly. "I just don't like to play pointless games." Peter watched in horror as Wade moved with quick, easy movements and shot the man in the head. The body fell to the ground, but Peter was too busy watching Wade's face to give it more than a cursory glance.

Wade's face was impassive as he stared down at the body. His mouth turned down at the corners, and he slipped his gun back into its holster. What had he done? And of course, this, this was Peter's fault. It had to be – Wade was a hero.

[We finally pushed him to the dark side.]

Peter almost fell from his hiding spot when none other than Captain America stepped up beside Wade. "Are you sure about this?" he asked Wade in a low voice.

{Congrats! You really can turn anyone into a bad guy!}

Wade exhaled and nodded firmly. "We need to find out who his employer was," Wade said.

"I'm sure Fury will have no problems with that," Rogers replied. "What did you promise him to make him so cooperative? He gave everyone a green light."

[Everyone?]

{What the hell is going on? No, never mind. I don't actually care. That was so hot.}

Peter watched the tightening of Wade's jaw. "Something he's wanted for a while."

The conversation continued, but Peter was distracted by a quiet clicking noise. Recognition came in a flash – he knew that noise, was intimately familiar with it. Someone was taking pictures. Peter moved away from Wade and Rogers, silent as he approached the cameraman.

Hidden around a corner, dressed in colours that blended in with the walls, the cameraman was oblivious to their impending doom, too focused on capturing the moment Peter realized that perhaps he didn't know his boyfriend as well as he thought he did. Peter dropped down behind the photographer, catching them by the neck and twisting it sharply to the side.

{Snap!}

He picked up the camera and whistled. "Nice," he murmured. "Our friend isn't wanting for money."

[We should get rid of the pictures.]

{No, take them! They are serious wank material.}

"Cap and Wade standing over a dead body?"

{There might be pictures of Wade shooting the guy!}

[That expression was really quiet fascinating.]

"It was cold."

[And Wade's usually such a warm person. The contrast is what makes it fascinating.]

{Let's go back, listen in the rest of the conversation.}

[We should take care of this first.]

{Just leave it.}

"I'll send a message," Peter said, kneeling beside the body of the cameraman and reaching for his fingers.

"…And earlier today, two bodies were discovered in an abandoned factory that was previously owned by Justin Hammer, founder of Hammer Industries, before the company was shut down two years ago. One victim was shot in the head, while the other suffered a broken neck. It is unclear if the two have any connection to each other, and police say they have no suspects and no leads…."

It was amusing, seeing Wade and Rogers' reactions. Rogers' mouth turned down at the corners, his brow furrowing in confusion as he sat up straighter. Wade blinked and mouthed 'two'.

{How is our friend supposed to get the message?} Yellow complained.

"Oh, don't worry," Peter muttered, pulling Wade's phone from his pocket and fiddling with it. "He'll get the message."

"Why do you have Wade's phone?" Barton asked, raising an eyebrow. "You two sharing all your secrets now?"

"I don't know about that," Peter replied, the tiniest bite in his voice. After the attempted apology and the resulting near-death experience, Barton had surprisingly warmed up to him. The complete opposite reaction Peter had been expecting, but who was he to complain? Apparently Barton really liked his piano playing.

"We still manage to keep a few from each other." Peter raised an eyebrow, tossing Wade his phone. Wade caught it and stood, his expression turning dark when he caught sight of the message Peter had typed.

"Bedroom, now."

{Oooh, the commanding voice!}

[I like it when he uses it in the bedroom. Not so much outside the bedroom.]

Peter sighed and followed Wade, hardly surprised when Captain America stepped up behind him. The three exited the now silent main room and made their way down the hall. Mimic poked her head out of her room, catching Peter's eye.

He waved a hand. "Later," he said, sending her a smile.

She nodded and retreated.

Rogers closed the door before anyone spoke. "What the hell, Spider?" Wade demanded.

[Now he's angry.]

{Angry sex!}

"I think I should be the one saying that," Peter replied tersely. "You went in there without backup. An idiot could tell it was a trap!"

"We had it handled," Wade said through gritted teeth. "You're the one who caused a needless death!"

Oh, so they were playing the blame game, were they? Peter bristled, unconsciously straightening, trying to make himself bigger. Before he could start, the good Captain spoke.

"We were prepared –" Rogers began to back Wade up, but Peter cut him off with a scoff. Sweet as it was, seeing someone other than him back Wade up, this time they were both wrong.

"'Prepared', he says. I don't fucking think so."

[We should kick them both.]

Peter dug around in his pockets and pulled out a memory card. He made a confused face. "Hmm, what could this be? I don't know – maybe we should look at it."

{This totally doesn't work without us!}

[There is so much sarcasm I'm drowning. Send help.]

"Oh no, I remember now!" Peter exclaimed, examining the card with interest. "This lovely little disk has evidence of a most grievous crime – murder!"

Wade swore. Cap still didn't seem to get it, so Peter continued his little act.

"Murder committed by the one, the only, Deadpool!" Peter shot a venomous look at Wade. "With an appearance by the proud, the free, Captain America!"

{The majestic bald eagle has a unique cry,} Yellow said.

[Instead of screeching, it yells "Freedom!"]

"'Handled', was it?" Peter asked. "You were 'prepared'? What's this, then? Chopped fucking liver?" Rogers opened his mouth. "I swear, if you 'language' me right now, I will kick your stupid perfect teeth in," Peter warned in a growl. "A needless death? You should have all the facts before you go accusing people, Deadpool."

"Cap!" Stark hollered. "There's more on that double murder! Something about a message?"

"Oh good," Peter said, posture abruptly relaxing. "They did show it after all." He threw the memory card at Wade and went back to the TV.

"…Both victims were missing fingers," the reporter was saying. Her face was scrunched up in disgust. "The fingers were found only moments ago by police, arranged into a message. Due to the graphic nature of the message and police's refusal to allow photographs, we cannot show you the message." Peter made a disappointed sound – he was rather proud of his efforts. "But we can tell you the message." The reporter looked gravely at the camera. "'Your move'."

[That was so much more dramatic than I anticipated.]

{But I wanted to see pictures!}

The next morning, Peter woke up around noon. Wade was absent – he'd probably gotten up at a reasonable time. Plus, Peter was pretty sure Wade was still mad at him about yesterday, even though Peter thought he had more of a right to be angry.

Peter wandered out of their room, heading for the kitchen. He caught sight of Mimic and Wade further down the hall.

"…not helping you with this," Mimic hissed, cutting herself off before she could say more. She'd probably heard the echo of her words in Peter's head. Or something equally weird.

[What do you think it's like?]

{What?}

[Hearing your words repeated all the time.]

{Let's find out!}

[How? We can't read people's minds.]

{How? We can't read people's minds.}

[That's real funny, Yellow.]

{That's real funny, Yellow.}

[Stop it.]

{Stop it.}

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to get a headache," Peter muttered. "It is way too early for your shit, Yellow."

[You can stop now.]

{You can stop now.}

[What! Why are you only copying me?]

{What! Why are you only copying me?}

Peter sighed and stepped into the kitchen. Mimic was gone, and whatever she'd said to Wade had made an impact. Peter studied Wade's profile – his jaw was clenched, lips pressed together so tightly they were completely colourless.

"You alright?" Peter asked. When Wade nodded sharply, Peter tilted his head. "What was that about?"

"We had a disagreement," Wade replied through gritted teeth.

Cocking an eyebrow, Peter leaned against the wall. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed."

[Well, he's being less than forthcoming.]

{Well, he's being less than forthcoming.}

"A disagreement about?" Peter pressed.

Wade finally looked at him. His eyes were shadowed over, the hint of concern almost missed in the sea of guilt. Peter frowned, touching Wade's face.

"You sure you're okay?" Peter asked softly. "Because it looks like that's one hell of a weight you're carting around on your shoulders."

For a moment, Peter thought Wade would tell him. He opened his mouth, bit his lip, averted his eyes and then sighed. He ruffled Peter's hair. "It's nothing, baby boy."

[He totally just lied to us.]

{Why you always lyyyyin'?}

Peter reached up and smoothed down his now completely mussed hair. "Nothing," he repeated. He nodded once to himself. "I can't count the number of times I've told you not to call me that," he added.

[We're letting it slide?]

{He'll tell us eventually.}

[We're trusting now?] White growled. [After what happened with the phone call and message? We're going to die.]

"Oh, stop being such a pessimist," Peter replied. "Wanna play some Mario Kart?" Peter asked, addressing Wade. "10000 points says I can kick your ass."

When Wade agreed, a smile on his face, Peter knew that whatever anger the two of them had for each other would not be spoken about. It would be ignored, pushed aside. Which was fine with him, because he was horrible with emotional talks. Always had been.

Peter was bored. Bored, bored, bored. He was perched on the ceiling, hidden in one of the darker corners of the kitchen. He'd already seen Wade swing passed once, no doubt looking for him, but Peter hadn't deigned to make a noise, and Wade had disappeared back into the maze of the tower.

{We could totally play hide and seek!}

[If you think about it, we already are. But don't hurt yourself.]

Peter said nothing. Even talking was boring. After staring at the same scenery for too freaking long, Peter needed to get out. But he wasn't allowed, on the grounds that everyone – including Wade – was suspicious he'd go on a killing spree.

Which was exactly what Peter was planning right now. Making people bleed sounded like a very, very good idea, and Peter wondered why he hadn't already kicked through a window and webbed away, because there really shouldn't have been anything stopping him. Especially not after the fiasco earlier in the week.

Except there was. And it was the same thing that had him perched in a hidden corner rather than dancing around the tower complaining he was bored.

He really, really, really didn't want to disappoint Wade.

[So simple.]

{So complicated.}

[Very boring.]

Peter sighed. I'm bored, he lamented.

[{Go kill someone!}]

Peter's lip curled. I'm trying to be good here.

[Why bother?]

{We've never been all that good at being, well, good.}

Hence trying. He perked up a little. I could play in the lab?

Stark had several beautiful labs scattered throughout the building. It would be a simple thing to find an empty, secluded one and just lose himself in the chemicals and compounds he knew so well.

[But what would we make?]

Whatever we wanted?

{Let's go!}

[Stick to the ceiling, I guess.]

That's what I planned.

Peter grinned as he stepped into the lab. "Woah," he said. "Look at all the toys!"

[What are we making?]

Peter shrugged. "What's out?"

{Is that hydro-whatsit acid?}

"Plastic bottle? Hydrofluoric acid."

[That's the hell dangerous stuff, yeah?]

{Why is it in one of Stark's labs?}

Peter shrugged. "Could be lots of things. Probably only one though."

[Uhuh. And what's that little bottle?]

Peter scowled. "I obviously don't know everything."

{What'll happen if we mix them together?}

[He doesn't even know what the little bottle is!]

"We could try it anyway." At this point, Peter could do with an explosion. He grabbed the little bottle, opened the plastic bottle with the acid, and dumped the clear contents into the plastic.

Almost immediately, he cocked his head. "I know this smell. How do I know this smell?"

[Um, Spidey?]

{I feel like it's not supposed to be doing that.}

The plastic container was melting. Peter blinked, automatically taking a step closer.

[No, we're supposed to go the opposite way!]

{Put it in a glass bottle!} Yellow wailed. {It's going to destroy the bench!}

"Hydrofluoric acid eats through glass!"

[Does it eat through fucking plastic?]

"Of course it doesn't! That's why it's stored in a plastic fucking container!"

{Well, it's eating through the plastic. I'm going to say it's not hydrofluoric acid, yeah?}

Yellow made a surprising amount of sense. Peter spun, eyes searching the room for something appropriate. He swore. "Guys, I'm not seeing an empty glass container."

[Sound the alarm!]

"Alarm, alarm, alarm – why don't genius billionaire playboy philanthropists have really noticeable buttons that say "Alarm" to make it easier for people like me?" Peter shouted.

{Other genius billionaires?}

"Oh stop, I'm blushing."

[Webs?]

Peter shrugged. "At this point in time, I'm up for anything. Except licking it."

{Stick your finger in it then.}

Peter flicked out a web, cocooning the plastic bottle as thickly as he could. "I don't think so Einstein."

"Excuse me, may I enquire as to what you're doing down here?" Jarvis asked, his voice abruptly echoing around the room.

"Jesus Jarvis, a bit of warning! What we're doing is trying to stop a disaster!"

"I sense nothing out of the ordinary."

Peter gaped. "There is a huge ball of my webbing on the bench. Inside that webbing is hydrofluoric acid mixed with an unknown agent, eating through the plastic. I'm not holding out hope my webs are gonna hold it for much longer. There. Disaster enough for you?"

"I will inform Mister Stark."

{Ever notice he never calls us sir?}

[Until you pointed it out, it had escaped my notice.]

"Stark's AI doesn't like us." Peter shrugged. "Where's the surprise?"

It seemed hardly a moment later that all the Avengers were bursting through the door. Peter hardly glanced at them, keeping an eye on the ball of webbing. He could hear the acid slowly eating through it.

"What have you done?" Stark demanded.

{Straight in with the accusations!}

"To be fair it was actually us," Peter said.

[Whoever left those things on the bench is at fault.]

"Oh, that's true. The bottles didn't have a 'Keep out of reach of children' sticker either. Very unsafe."

"Spider," Wade said.

"Oh right. Yes. What's going on? Well, this all happened because none of you would let me out and I am so freaking bored I'm driving myself insane. Was. I mean, this isn't exactly boring."

[You're already insane.]

"Sshh, don't tell them that! They'll never believe a word out of my mouth!"

"Spider," Wade repeated calmly.

"Yes. So. Um. Bored. Very bored. And then I thought, oh, labs are fun. So we came down here. And there was a bottle of hydrofluoric acid on the bench. Also a little glass bottle I didn't recognise – then again, I didn't look too closely. Bored and all that." Peter frowned. "I'm totally sure I've smelled this before."

"What is 'this'?" Rogers asked.

"Well, I did what any mad scientist would do." Peter shrugged. "I mixed them."

[And then it started eating through the plastic.]

"That's when we started looking for an alarm button – you should have a big sign, they're so easy to miss when you're panicking – and then Jarvis swooped in all Swan Princess like and saved the day by calling you guys!" Peter glanced expectantly at Stark and Banner. "So what did I mix?"

"Why are you asking us?" Banner asked, because Stark was apparently having a heart attack over the fate of his precious lab.

"That would be because you guys are science bros, and you probably know every single chemical in this entire building. So I'll ask again. What the fuck did I mix?"

Banner glanced at Stark. "Little glass bottle? What colour was the liquid?"

"Clear," Peter replied tersely, shooting some more webs. "Hello, think faster! You two are supposed to be geniuses!"

"I don't know! I don't have anything that reacts with hydrofluoric acid like that!" Stark indicated the ball of webs with a jerky wave.

{Hey, so he's had stuff planted too!}

[Wait a minute.]

Peter swore. "No way. That's so rude!"

[How can we test for sure? Last time…]

{No, no, no! We're not asking Wade to stick his finger in there!}

[He has the best healing factor of anyone here.]

"But it's Wade," Peter hissed. "It doesn't matter about all that stuff with the camera and the anger. We agreed, I know we fucking agreed at some point –"

"What about me, baby boy?" Wade asked, ignoring the looks everyone sent his way.

Peter bit his lip. "I – we think it's the acid from my apartment," he admitted quietly. "We think someone planted this in the hope some idiot mixed it."

{You just called yourself an idiot.}

"At this point in time, I expect I deserve it," Peter snapped.

"The stuff that ate my arm?" Wade clarified.

Peter nodded, wrapping the ball up with more webs. "Honestly, I'd stick my own finger in there if I thought it'd help identify it. But you're the only one the acid touched." Peter hissed at himself. "Seriously. I should have just fucking touched it that first time…"

[When we cut off a finger, it take ages to grow back.]

{Wade has no obligation to do this.}

[But of course he's going to.]

{What? Why?}

"You want me to stick my finger in there?"

"No, Wade, I want to watch the world burn and kill bad people because that's what I'm good at," Peter replied icily. "I want to leave this stupid acid in a prison, watch it eat at the paedophiles and the rapists and the murderers."

[That would make for some decent entertainment.]

{We could sell popcorn. Charge admission.}

"I want to do something. I want to eat pancakes and have sex. Like, all the time." Peter met Wade's eyes squarely. "I do not want you to stick your finger in there."

"But you guys need to know what it is, right?" Wade asked.

Peter looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Yes," he replied in a defeated voice.

"And there isn't another way?"

"If the acid is reacting with everything, then no. We can't examine it in any machines because it would destroy them before we got a reading," Stark said, sounding so unbothered that Peter considered dumping the web on him and letting the acid eat him.

[This. This is why he'll say yes.]

Wade shrugged. "Okay."

{We really have to talk to him about self-preservation.}

"Talking to him about self-preservation is the same as asking math to stop looking for its ex," Peter snapped. "Completely pointless, an utter waste of time."

[Agreed.]

{But I feel bad!}

[We all feel bad!]

"Deal with it," Peter added. He chewed his lip. "Can't cut it."

[We could wait for it to eat through the webs?]

Peter tilted his. "That could work. If I kept the webs piling on in every place except for one…"

"Why don't you just shoot a hole in it?" Widow asked, pulling her gun out.

Stark, Banner and Peter jumped in front of the ball of webs. "No!" they shouted together. All three shared a surprised look with each other.

"Why not?" Rogers asked.

"You're too close. The bullet will just go through the webbing, creating two holes instead of one," Banner explained quickly, glancing at Peter. "Right?"

"Not only that, but we have no idea how that stuff could react with metal or the gunpowder," Peter added.

"The friction heat from the bullet entering the webbing might cause an explosion." Stark shook his head. "Minimal as the chances, I don't think we want this stuff exploding over everyone."

Widow held up her hands. "Okay, I get it." She holstered her gun, muttering "Nerds" under her breath.

Peter shot her the finger, before spinning to web up the acid. He heard someone else step forward.

"I could shoot it," Barton offered.

Peter snorted. "Explosive arrows are such a good idea," he muttered sarcastically, turning back around.

[Hey, maybe he has normal arrows!]

"We just covered the metal bit," Peter replied.

"We'll just say no shooting, okay?" Banner said.

"So the best plan right now is bug boy's," Stark muttered.

{You think they'll mind if we bite him again?} Yellow asked.

"I think if you have to ask, you already know the answer," Peter hissed.

[We couldn't do this another way?]

"Yes White, please share your brilliant idea with the class." It felt like every dark part of Peter – and there was a hell of a lot of darkness – was pressing against his shoulders. He curled his lip into a snarl, digging fingernails into his palm. "No?" he asked. "Nothing? Then seriously, for once, shut the fuck up."

Peter beckoned Wade over. "Stand here," he said sharply. "Hold out your least favourite finger." Wade stepped forward, holding out the ring finger on his left hand. Peter didn't even blink. "I'll try and let as little acid through as possible," Peter said tersely, his body thrumming with tension. He glanced at the assembled Avengers. "I give it a few seconds before you'll know for sure. Widow's going to cut off your finger the moment you tell her to."

"Why Nat?" Stark asked. "Clint's just as good with a knife, and you're standing right there."

"Because Widow has already displayed indifference when hurting Wade," Peter snapped. He ignored the way the Avengers flinched. "The acid will be coming out any second. Widow, step up."

"It'll be fine, baby boy," Wade assured him, even having the gall to smile at Peter when he looked at him. "I'll heal up easy, good as new."

Peter stared at him silently for a moment, brows furrowed. "I'm not sure you understand my reluctance to do this," he finally said, voice puzzled. "Why don't you understand?"

[He knows we're not heartless.]

{He's been surrounded by the Avengers.}

[…Yellow makes a good point.]

{You've seen how they treat him.}

"We're not them," Peter hissed.

[It's what he's used to.]

{We're not the only ones with issues in this relationship.}

Peter wrinkled his nose. "Acid incoming," he said.

The acid was viscous – the drop seemed to take forever to drip onto Wade's finger. Peter webbed the hole over quickly, mind buzzing as he tried to figure out how they could get rid of the acid. He wasn't even sure how the acid at his nest had been neutralized.

Wade swore as the acid ate his finger. "Natasha!" he yelped, and Peter flinched – actually, physically flinched – when Wade's finger hit the floor. "Definitely the same stuff," Wade said. "That shit is nasty. I mean, I've been dumped in acid before, but that stuff is a whole different story."

Peter blinked, peering at Wade's finger on the floor. The acid ignored the floor, seemingly content to devour Wade's finger until nothing was left.

[What do you think fire does to it?]

{Yeah! The acid was burned – that explosion must have caused some fires in the nest.}

Peter made a thoughtful noise. "Anyone have a lighter? Some matches?" A lighter was pressed into his palm. "Cool. Hey, on the plus side, I'm totally not bored right now!"

[Silver lining.]

Peter flicked the lighter open and pressed the resulting flame to the puddle that was partly acid and partly Wade's finger. The puddle caught alight astonishingly quickly, and Peter scuttled back as black smoke erupted from the floor.

When it cleared, there was nothing to ever suggest that there had been a half melted finger on the lab floor. Peter stood up. "Guess that answers that question," he said to himself, before using the lighter to set his ball of webs on fire.