It had been a full month since Peter had started taking pictures, and still nothing on how he'd get home. He'd decided to just screw it and get an apartment. Besides, it wasn't like they could just up and track him once he found a way home.
He'd even gotten a 'fake' I.D., which was surprisingly easy to get. Of course, most of the information was correct, other than he was supposedly eighteen instead of sixteen, but you know, at least he had a good cause. Most people who got fake I.D.'s were criminals, or runaways, or wanted to go to a rated R movie that they knew their parents would never agree to, that sort of thing. Most people who got fake I.D.'s were not trapped in another dimension.
Of course, the I.D. had the name Peter Parker. He also had a fake birth certificate, along with other stuff.
Not to mention that in the newspapers payed good money for quality pictures of Batman and other vigilantes. A heck of a lot more than he'd gotten at the Daily Bugle, that was for sure.
Peter's apartment wasn't too fancy, though it wasn't too horrible either. He'd gotten a fairly good deal with an apartment that wasn't in bad condition for pretty cheep with the promise that he'd take family photos for the landlord every once in a while, which Peter didn't find too bad a compromise.
Furniture had also been fairly easy to obscure. He'd gotten a used two-seater couch at a garage sail for only $50.75, and an old box TV for even less. He had bought a used mattress for fairly cheap too, and hadn't bothered to get any sort of box spring or headboards to go with it, just sleeping on the mattress alone. Well, with some sheets and blanket that is.
Currently, Peter was watching the news in his Spiderman suit, looking for any news on any of the Sinister Six. Octavius had broken out of prison not long ago too, which didn't make him feel any better. They were plotting something, Peter could practically smell it.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Peter panicked, still dressed in his Spiderman suit and without a mask. "Just a minute!" He called out, rushing into his bedroom and into the closet, pulling out a pair of slightly faded blue jeans and a plain gray long-sleeved shirt and slipping it over-top before making it to the door.
It was a pizza-man. "Uh...I didn't order a pizza." Peter blinked, confused.
"Are you Peter Parker?" The man frowned. Peter nodded slowly, eyebrows narrowed. "Well, uh...it was ordered by someone else for you, I guess. Some dude named Wade?"
"Wade?" Peter was suddenly alert. "Wade Wilson?"
"Yeah, I think that's what he said his name was. Why?" The pizza-man frowned.
No! Everything had been fine until this! Why? Why was the universe spitting in his face. Not wanting to have to tell tales of the fact that Wade was a mercenary known for his never-ending babble talk, he decided on something different. "Just thought he'd send gift wrapped El Monterey Chimichangas or something." It wasn't all that much of a lie, even if it was sort of meant as one. Wow Wade, way to announce your presence. Peter'd honestly expected a little more Huzzah from the infamous Merc with a Mouth.
Hey, he should be more grateful for the pizza! I demand Justice!
Be grateful I'm even letting you into this story, and quite breaking the fourth wall so that the readers can finish the chapter they waited almost two months for!
You made them wait for two months for this? I've killed people for less!
Just shut up and let me finish writing this chapter!
What's the magic word?
Abracadabra, Deadpool is gone... Wow, I can't believe that actually worked...
I'm being nice to the readers. You should try it sometime.
You insolent-
*Meanwhile back in the story...* (Insert brought to you by Portal Potato, who was reading Sparky's unpublished chapters again)
"Ah, the pizza arrived! About time, after that awful excuse of a recap." And there was the said mercenary, sliding in through his window. Uninvited, Peter might add. Though he was a bit confused about the recap thing.
"What are you doing here?" Peter asked, mentally sighing.
"Visiting my favorite Spider-pal." Peter cringed.
"I'm not your pal, Wade." He raised an eyebrow.
"Now that just hurts my feelings," Wade was probably giving a mock frown, but it was hard to tell with the mask.
Peter was about to reply with 'What feelings?' when he thought better of it. Maybe, if he ignored Wade long enough, he'd simply go away. He took about four slices of pizza, but who was counting, and sat in his, his!, couch and watched TV while pretending not to notice Wade obviously going through his things behind him.
"Dude, you need to go grocery shopping!" Wade interrupted, looking at the mostly empty fridge. "All you have in here is sandwich makings, eggs, and milk. Wait a second, you don't even have eggs! It's just a carton!" Wade exclaimed. Okay, so maybe he was right, it had been a while.
"Fine, I'll go Aunt Wade," Peter rolled his eyes, getting up. He'd almost forgotten he was still in his Spiderman suit underneath the clothing, but he figured it wouldn't show anyways, so he put on some shoes and socks, and was about to walk out the door when another exclamation from Wade came through.
"I'm coming too! Wait for me!" Peter was about to just leave without him as Wade went into Peter's bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, but Wade added something at the last minute. "I've got a car!"
As much as Peter wanted to just leave without Wade, he realized that a car would make it much easier carry the groceries and he could get more than he'd been getting at one time. With a sigh, Peter plummeted onto the couch in defeat. Wade came out wearing his, his!, clothes. They fit him a bit snug though, and looked skin-tight. Peter scowled, getting up. He could only hope Wade wasn't wearing his underwear too. If he was even wearing underwear. Peter shuddered at the though.
"You stole it, didn't you." It wasn't a question. No way would Wade have been able to afford that car with just the money he'd had in his pockets, if he even had any money. Wade gave Peter a grin anyways, and flipped the keys in his hands.
"I took the keys from some dead guy in an alley," Peter grimaced. Really, Wade? Couldn't you just have not mentioned that?
"How'd you get here anyways?" Peter frowned.
"Oh, I've been here the whole time," Wade had started driving into the streets of the traffic-ridden rush hour Gotham. "I was doing a job in New York when I saw you, and I jumped into that wormhole thing you fell into because it looked fun and I ended up here,"
Peter sighed. He'd really hoped Wade had come here somehow else. If so, then he might know how to get them back, but apparently not. Peter had brought his camera, a last minute item he'd decided to grab as he had taken a few pictures of heroes the day before, finally getting a good one of the one that Peter had found out was called 'Red Hood.'
Red Hood did not pose like Peter had initially thought he would, and instead to play a game of cat and mouse before he actually let him get a good shot. Peter decided that he'd been testing how determined he was for that picture.
*Meanwhile, at the grocery store* (Another insert brought you by the one and only Potato with a Portal in front)
Wade and Peter finally made it to the grocery store, where they then took another five minutes trying to find a place to part. Peter was beginning to lose it after being stuck in the car that long with Wade.
"Kill the lights, kill the actor, kill the actress!~" Wade was singing at the top of his lungs as they walked out of the car. "Or kill us all!"
"Please, stop!" Peter groaned. People were starring at them now... Of course, Wade payed no attention, finishing out the song before he got distracted by the blue things in front of the Walmart they'd ended up at and twirling around with them. Sometimes, Peter wondered who the legal adult here was. Actually, scratch the sometimes. He couldn't remember a time when Wade had ever been serious.
They had gone the first fifteen or so minutes without a single problem, but of course Wade had to go to the gun storage place thingy. Only in Gotham would they sell handguns at Walmart. Of course, you couldn't have a criminal record or anything to buy them, but that really never stopped a lot of people.
"Peter. Peter, can we get that one!" Wade pointed to a black handgun with what appeared to be that symbol Batman had on his chest engraved on the side.
"Wade, you don't need another gun!" Peter pointed out, glaring.
"But I want this gun! How often do I get the chance to get one with a bat symbol engraved in it? Please, Peter! I'll pay you back!" Wade had actually gotten on his knees to beg.
"Fine, but only because you'll bug me about it for the next fifty years of my life." Peter looked at the price tag, and handed Wade a total of $600 cash and waited as he got the gun. Wade came back with a triumphant smirk.
"He said we can pick it up when we leave, they don't let people carry guns around the store." He shrugged. "I said I'd pay him when I got it," He added.
The last thing Peter expected to hear was someone calling his name. He turned around to see the guy he'd met about a month ago. Walmart really brought people together, didn't it? What had his name again? He felt bad about forgetting as he approached with three other guys, all with black hair and blue eyes with varying ages. It had started with a D... Danny? Donald? No, it was shorter than that. Perhaps just Dan? No, that wasn't it. Drake? No, but that was closer... Dick? Yeah, that was it! Dick! And just in time because the small group had reached him.
Wade turned around, curious. "Ooh, you made friends and you didn't tell me!" Wade smiled widely.
"Dude, I didn't even know you were in town until you broke into my house and started raiding my fridge...and closet." Peter crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he let out a sigh. Dick and the rest of the mini-Dick's looked a bit confused. They also looked at Wade's face, though it wasn't disgust, more curiosity.
"Anyways, have you gotten any more pics of Batman, or any of the others?" Dick changed the subject.
"Yeah, actually. I'm partly here for that reason, and Wade decided I needed more food." He glared at said man, who gave him a mock innocent look.
"I also decided I need clothes." Wade added.
"Dude, first the handgun, now more clothes, what next, a pinata?" Peter sighed.
"Now that you mention it-"
"NO!" Peter cut him off before he could even finish that sentence.
"Aw come on, I bought you pizza!" Wade gave him another pleading look.
"Yeah, and I bought you a handgun! Which, buy the way, you owe me 600 bucks, and no, I don't mean deer because I know you'd actually do that." Peter argued. Peter hadn't noticed it, but two of the mini-Dick's had started arguing as well, and the real Dick was trying to break them up. The one that didn't entirely look like a mini-Dick, the one with the white strip in his hair, looked actually somewhat intrigued by the mention of a handgun.
"Dude, what kind of gun was it?" He asked.
"I don't know," Wade shrugged.
"You bought a gun and you didn't even know what kind it was?" Peter's eyes shot up like a rocket. Not Rocket rocket, but rocket rocket.
"Yeah, but I'm sure it'll work against ninja's anyways," Wade shrugged.
"Why on Earth would you need it against ninja's?" Peter raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"Peter, let me tell you a story-" Wade was about to pull him away.
"Here, Dick, I'll give you my phone number so we can talk later, okay?" Peter was about to grab a scrap of paper he had left over from something or other, but Dick just handed him his phone, still trying to break the mini-Dick's up. Peter entered his number into the phone, adding himself as a contact. "Bye,"
"Bye!" Was Dick's quick response. Somehow the other two were still fighting.
"We'll talk about guns later!" Wade added to the one with the white strip who gave him a light smile and a thumbs up before watching the two boys fight while laughing.
