It was seven months after the incident in New York that had killed Spider-Man when a secret facility that was completely off anyone's radar was broken into.

And blown to pieces.

Very small pieces.

No human lives were lost.

The artefacts stored in the facility were incinerated.

The fires burned so hot and bright, it took SHIELD almost a whole day to put them out, despite advanced equipment at their disposal.

Fury stood in the conference room aboard the helicarrier, watching the proceedings, studying the blackened ground.

Nothing but ash was left.

Absolutely nothing.

The science guys would probably go over it all with a fine toothed comb, but he knew there would be nothing to find, least of all the instigator. As for the incendiary device used, no one had yet to find a clue. One scientist was already muttering about otherworldly.

Not something anyone wanted to consider, especially since no one had a clue as to who had destroyed it.

Fury had a suspicion as to what had happened, he just couldn't prove it.

"Do you really think it was him?"

"This was the place where we stored the artefact that killed his mate. I think it's the obvious conclusion."

"Want us to bring him in?"

He glanced at Maria. She looked absolutely serious. "You want him to bring down the helicarrier, too?"

She grimaced.

"There is no proof. Suspicions are not enough to act upon when it comes to this guy. The chimera would wreak havoc. How's Tigh?"

"Still a vegetable, still under special care. There's hardly any brain activity. Some say jelly fish have more than him."

"Hm." Fury stared at the screen.

He doubted Deadpool would go after the poor guy, but one never knew. Before he had bonded to Peter, Deadpool had been as erratic as they came, but with a plan, with an intent, and always with a deadly air to him. Now, after the bond, it was all there, but more focused. He still mouthed off, he still was more than a handful on a mission, but Fury held a hell lot more respect for the chimera.

And a vengeful chimera was a danger to be taken seriously. He wouldn't lift protection on Tigh.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

Far, far away, in New York, Deadpool was cheerfully eating cotton candy and watching the police round up a group of thugs that had been terrorizing the neighborhood.

The chimera was an evened-out presence, pleased with itself and the world, feeling almost joyful with the memories of blowing up SHIELDs no longer so super-secret lab.

It had been hard intel work on his part to find where they had hidden the fucking alien sword that had killed his mate. Deadpool had greased a lot of hands and paid more than ever before for information, going as far as nearly killing a guy who had thought he could pull one over the mercenary.

He was missing a few fingers and he might never walk straight again, but he had learned his lesson.

The rest had been easy.

Deadpool smirked and stuffed the last of the cotton candy into his mouth. He pulled down the mask and hopped off the roof. A ride was waiting for him, a sleek machine he had borrowed for the day. The owner wouldn't really miss it, since he was currently in the ER and might not get out for a while. If the police caught up to him there , Deadpool might just have two very fast wheels for a little longer.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

Hawkeye found them on a roof top, sitting under an overhang and waiting out the downpour. Deadpool was playing a game on his smart phone, muttering to himself as he killed whatever monster was coming for his character. Spider-Man was going through the pictures he had taken a day before. He might just dangle them in front of Jameson's nose.

Or not.

Hawkeye dropped down from the neighboring roof and found himself staring into a gun barrel while Deadpool quickly annihilated the digital enemy with a quick thumb stroke.

"Hey, Barton," Spider-Man greeted him, smiling underneath the mask.

He ignored the gun the other man was pointing at the visitor as if it didn't even exist. Deadpool's attention was on the Avenger. He had risen to a standing position, radiating tension.

"Hey, kiddo. Deadpool. Friendly visit." He raised his hands.

"Depends on your definition of friendly," Deadpool replied evenly.

"What's the occasion?" Spider-Man asked.

"Checking to see if Fury is already out for blood."

The younger man tilted his head, then glanced at his partner. "What did you do this time?" he asked evenly.

"Nothing!" Deadpool protested, shaking his head while he still kept the gun pointed at Hawkeye. "I've been a good boy lately."

"Except for your visit to Australia?" Hawkeye added, making it a semi-question.

"Where now?"

"Big ass continent and largest island of this planet? Home of the kangaroo and the Wolverine?"

"Never heard of it," the merc quipped. "Now scram. This is private time."

"Playing video games?"

"The very same."

Hawkeye chuckled. "Word of advice: Fury might just let this one slide because of what happened to Spider-Man."

The man in question suddenly tensed and listened up.

"But," Clint went on, "you only get one freebie. This was yours. The next time he'll probably lock you up and throw away the key."

"Pft," was the answer. Deadpool waved the hand not holding the gun. "No prison cell can hold me. Not even SHIELD's."

"He might just shoot you several times over," Barton shrugged. "Depends on his mood. Just… don't do it again."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Not much fun on my own. Spider-Man." Clint nodded at him. "See you next time."

With that he was off and Deadpool finally lowered the gun.

"Deadpool," Peter sighed, shaking his head with a resigned air to it.

"What? It was nothing! I didn't do anything wrong!"

"But you were in Australia?"

"Uh." He scratched the back of his head. "Maybe? I mean, geography and me… not friends. With all the dimensions and parallel worlds and whatnot, a little geography shouldn't be so hard, but hey… scrambled egg in here sometimes." He gestured at his head.

"That's a yes, then," Peter translated. "You… did what in Australia? Killed someone? No, wait. You didn't. Or Fury would have already gone after you." He tilted his head a little. "You stole something? Hm. No," was the immediate answer. "Did you blow something up?"

Deadpool tried not to cringe, but Peter saw it. He also felt a shiver along the bond. The chimera was moving around, radiating pride at something it had done, without shedding blood. It was immensely pleased with itself.

"What?"

"Just a storage unit?"

"Why is everything a question?"

"Uh, no idea?"

Spider-Man stared into the white eyes, not letting up. "Spill," he finally demanded.

"It was just storage!" Deadpool whined. "Really! No lives were lost, no animals harmed in the making of this magnificent special effects-worthy explosion!"

"But something was turned into tiny little pieces." Peter suddenly had a light bulb moment. "The armor."

Deadpool fiddled with the gun he hadn't put away yet. "..uhm…"

"You destroyed the alien artefact," Spider-Man murmured. "Inside a super secret SHIELD facility."

"Wasn't that secret," came the defiant mutter. "I found it."

"It isn't an Easter egg hunt!"

"Well, they shouldn't leave such sensitive data where any determined merc on a revenge trip for his dead bonded can find it!" he shot back, temper flaring.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Probably not. And I'm not dead any more, Deadpool."

"You were! No one kills my bonded mate and just hides in a box in a hole in the ground!" Deadpool snarled furiously.

"The armor was sentient?"

"I don't fucking care!"

"So it's ash now?"

"Yep." Deadpool looked pleased again, securing the gun in its holster. "All gone."

He closed the distance and looked into the masked face. Finally he pulled Deadpool's head down to rest forehead against forehead.

"You're insane," Peter whispered. "Absolutely insane. And I love you. Don't do it again."

"Can't promise you that," Deadpool replied, voice shaking just a tiny little bit.

Inside the vortex, the chimera flared its wings, showing off against imaginary threats. It would hunt down those who dared to take its mate from it again and again.

"Have to work on that," Peter said softly, stroking the agitated core of prickly energy, pulling it closer to his own soul.

Deadpool gave a soft moan and leaned more into the touch.

"Don't kill Martin Tigh," Spider-Man said after a moment longer. "Please."

"I won't. Unless he goes off the deep end and onto a killing spree again."

Which was highly unlikely. The alien artefact had burned his mind to a crisp.

"I don't want to spend my time visiting you on the helicarrier or in some super-secret SHIELD prison facility. The commute would be murder."

Deadpool snorted. "Like they could hold me."

"Well, they could freeze you."

"So very eighties Star Wars."

Both men were still standing very close, though no longer touching foreheads, and Peter placed a hand flat against Deadpool's chest.

"Just don't."

"Okies."

"Thank you," Peter said earnestly.

"Good Deadpool?" he asked playfully.

"Very good," was the amused reply.

"Would you break me out if they locked me up?"

"Always."

Deadpool grinned brightly. "Baby boy!"

"And I never said that," Peter added quickly.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

Deadpool wouldn't say he was imprinted on Spider-Man, on Peter Parker, but in a way he was. It wasn't like a duckling following its parental figure. It wasn't any kind of dependency. It wasn't interdependence.

Both were fully functional away from the other. No one pined after the other, the bond didn't make them less.

Still, he felt the easiest, the most relaxed, and the most balanced when Peter was around, whether in a fight or just hanging out together. Peter was his rock in the stormy sea that was his preternatural nature.

They weren't telepathic. Neither could read the other's mind, not even emotions, though sometimes he could tell what was going on behind the mask, or even behind the hazel eyes.

Wade knew Peter instinctively.

Sure, wolves did the same, but it wasn't smell or sound. It was… it just was.

He knew him.

A curl of longing whispered through him.

The chimera hummed at the thought of its mate, the importance Peter held for it. Peter was all he had ever needed and would ever need.

Sometimes he thought of Vanessa.

Did he miss her?

In a way. Like someone he had once known, who had gone away, of whom he knew nothing more than that they had been in his life.

The pain that usually came with the memory of his handler and formerly bonded was gone. It was an echo, from another life, no longer impacting on this one. It was the past and sometimes it didn't even seem to be his own.

The hellhound was truly dead. Gone. Never forgotten, just reborn into the shape and form of the chimera.

Wade smiled thinly.

His own night terror had become his new life.

Because of Peter.

Infatuation had become so much more. It was this, between them a kind of connection no one else in the world shared or would ever share. They weren't attached by the hip. Peter had his job, which involved him a lot sometimes, and Deadpool had his own.

Sometimes they didn't see each other for weeks because of a job.

Sometimes they had long weeks together, waking up together and patrolling at night, sharing food and company.

It never impacted on what they had. The bond didn't worsen. Deadpool didn't go off the deep end.

It was still amazing for him, to be in this much control, still be his own person, but it was almost like his old life from before Weapon X had finally meshed and seamlessly interwoven with the new one as Deadpool.

"Deep thoughts."

Peter settled down next to him on the stone banister of their terrace. Feet swinging several storeys in the air, not a care in the world.

Wade shrugged.

"Happens to the best of us," Peter teased.

He chuckled. "Yeah. Brain won't shut up."

"Is that your way of hinting at wanting sex?"

Wade snorted. "No. But you know I never say no to your ass, Peteybabe."

"Anything you want to share then?"

"Not really. Kind of watching a movie of my life. The good and bad. And the fantastic when it comes to you, my flexible arachnid." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Not just for the sex," Wade added, more serious again. "The sex is the whipped cream on this amazing cake with chocolatey gooey filling. Or the ice cream on the side. Everything else… it's been two years and it feels like… so much more?"

Peter placed a hand on his knee, squeezing it gently. "I know. Same for me. It was a big step and it was so worth it."

"Yeah. It's my life. You gave it to me."

"Ditto. Thank you for being… you, Wade."

Wade laughed dryly. "You're the only one who wants me to be myself."

"And you're the one who really gets me. Who gets to me, too. I love you, Wade Wilson. Always will. Crazy and all."

Peter's hand squeezed again. Wade caught it, interlacing their fingers.

"I think I should be glad that they killed Vanessa. That they chose her for the hellhound and took her life instead of maybe yours. We might not have matched otherwise. If I had met you before everything. And if we had, you would have been the one I lost. Bullet to the brain," he murmured, eyes on the buildings around them. "I might just be on speaking terms with Fate again should she come calling, but she can fuck off for all I care."

Two years in a stable relationship that had been so much more right from the start, overwhelming him.

Peter was part of his life.

He had a life.

It was like a revelation.

Wade drew a deep breath, Peter was silent, letting him ride out the emotional tidal wave. He closed his eyes and finally his whole body relaxed.

"C'mon."

Both slid off the banister, but Wade stopped his bonded before they could continue. He drew him close.

There was no fever, no hunger, in the kiss. Just the languidness and deeper emotions. Wade enjoyed the gentle caress over his bald head, feeling pleasantly mellow and warm.

The growl of Peter's stomach had him laugh and bury his head against Peter's neck.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"What gave it away?"

"You are a bottomless pit, Petey. It's a miracle you survived on your meager income until today."

Peter grinned. "It kinda is, isn't it?"

Wade kissed him again. "Delivery or fridge raid?"

"Fridge raid!" He pumped his fist in the air.

"Team Spideypool for the win! Roll the dice!" Deadpool called cheerfully. "We're coming in hot and the gates won't stand a chance against this team of raiders!"

"You've been playing too many games again."

"There can never be too many."

They walked inside, Peter elbowing him gently.

It was their home. His safe place. Home. A place he hadn't had since… forever. Now it was here, with Peter, or wherever they would go from here on. Always with Peter.

In a way, nothing had changed, but still so much was different. So many little things, which made everything else so much better.

That was what counted.

And nothing else mattered.

And he was looking forward to this future, their future.