Peter woke up the following morning with a start, his heart recovering from a terrible nightmare that ended with his hands drenched in blood. His eyes darted nervously around the room, momentarily forgetting where he was. He could barely recall the events from the previous night, only remembering that he bumped his head on the wooden legs of the dock outside and that he was picked up by a human.

He squinted and hissed as a sudden sharp pain came from his head, lighting his temples on fire. Suddenly, one by one like the jagged pieces to a jigsaw puzzle, everything came together.

"That's right." he whispered to himself, "Wade let me stay here for the night..." Peter again looked around the room and sighed as sadness washed over him. He was grateful that Wade had provided him with a temporary place to stay, but Peter felt it was time to leave. He knew he couldn't stay any longer, despite his feelings. Peter needed to head west towards the Pacific and find the colonization there and beg for their help. The merfolk of the Pacific, he remembered, were a very nice people and he knew they would help him once he explained what happened. They had to believe him. But, if they came to doubt his story, he'd have to run to the merfolk of the Indian and beseech them.

Peter felt his cheeks grow warm as his vision blurred. He scrubbed at his face and told himself not to cry. The tears, however, proceeded to spill.

Even though he would try to seek help from others, the truth in the matter was that he was alone and nothing could change that. He was useless when the evidence pointed towards him.

Peter sobbed quietly into a pillow that was leaning against the headboard. He felt defeated and alone, and he just wanted to go home. However, he knew he couldn't because he wasn't allowed to go back.

He stayed that way for ten minutes; crying and wishing to be home. What more could be done before he had to leave? For the first time in his life, he was going to be entirely alone with no one there to coax him on and tell him everything's okay. He had no friends, no family. He had no one.

Peter found himself falling asleep once more, but waking up again shortly after in fear of having another nightmare. He stared up at the ceiling with saddened eyes, counting the cracks silently. He dared not to move, only just lie there. He wasn't ready to leave. So he tried to stay as long as he possibly could.

As he lie in Wade's bed, he picked up what sounded like singing and the faint smell of something sweet. Only then did he realise that he was hungry. His stomach gave a loud growl as he had a small mental battle with himself; to get up and go towards the smell of food or stay there in that room. If he were to get up, he'd have to leave sooner. If he stayed in the room, he didn't have to leave soon, but he'd starve.

Food eventually won the battle and Peter sat up. But he paused as he was suddenly conflicted once again: he had to use his legs. He gave an irritable sigh before attempting to leave the bed by removing the blankets and swinging his legs over the edge.

So far so good.

Peter took in a breath before standing. His legs wobbled as his weight was added onto them, so he held his arms out to balance himself. He counted to ten before taking his first step and smiled. He took a few more steps before his legs started to wobble once more. Peter eyed down the door, his legs protested. He launched himself at the door and swung it open, and apparently he didn't think correctly because once the door was open Peter landed flat in the hallway with a hard thud.

He groaned and lifted himself up, using the wall as leverage. The singing was loud enough for him to realise that it was Wade, who was singing about limes and coconuts. The smell was unbearably strong too. Peter's stomach took notice. He sighed out in irritation and willed himself to walk forward for food's sake.

Wade swayed from side to side as he sung and flipped the pancake in the pan. He already made six, thinking it should be plenty for both he and the merman (merkid?), who slept in Wade's room for the night.

He switched to another song, Back in Black, and took the pancake out of the pan and dumped it onto the plate with the others as he tried to play the air guitar.

"Wade?"

He stopped dead in his tracks, head snapping towards Peter's direction. His mouth went dry at the sight of the boy standing before him, who was wobbling slightly in the oversized sweat pants and the giant shirt. Wade gave a nervous laugh.

"Uh, top of the morning to ya?" Wade said.

"What's that?" asked Peter, ignoring Wade's greeting. His eyes went to the plate of six pancakes.

Wade looked down at the plate. "Oh," he said. "They're called pancakes. God's gift to the world really." He looked up at Peter. "Hungry?"

Peter blinked. "God? Your God gifted you with food?" He looked confused. "The gods my people worship are always silent."

Wade laughed and shook his head. "No, dude," he chuckled. "It's a figure of speech. I'm just saying they're delicious."

Peter cocked a brow. "Oh. Are they...good?"

"They're fucking fantastic."

Peter's stomach growled and Wade laughed.

"I've never tried them before," Peter said, eyeing the plate down.

"I'm not surprised. You probably eat kelp biscuits and seaweed smoothies, or something hipsters consume on a daily basis." Wade gave a shake of his head with a smile.

Peter just blinked. "I eat shrimp and mussels."

Wade's eyebrows nearly touched the ceiling. "Isn't that cannibalism?" he asked incredulously.

Peter gave a light laugh (while leaning against the counter because he was losing balance once again) and shook his head. "No it's not. You are made of meat though you eat your cows and monkey brains. That does not make you a cannibal. It makes you at the top of your food chain. I am just like you. I eat shrimp, mussels, clams, spider crab, and others. I may be made from the fish gene, but I am no cannibal. Just like how a shark isn't a cannibal when he prays on the smaller school of fish for survival."

Wade said nothing more and just nodded. After a moment, he asked if Peter wanted to try a pancake. The younger boy nodded fervently and watched Wade carefully as he took a pancake from the plate and placed it on another before pouring syrup on top of it. Peter cocked his head to the side in confusion. Wade held the plate out for Peter to take it, but the boy only stared.

"It's not gonna bite ya, Peter. Take it," he shook the plate. Peter approached it with trepidation, his eyes scanned over the pancake and the strange liquid that covered it. His brown eyes flickered up to Wade, who said, "Well come on."

Peter took the plate carefully and stared at it. Then, slowly, he picked the pancake up and held it like a taco as the liquid dripped from it and down his hand. He carefully bit into the pancake, an explosion of taste burst over his taste buds, which changed Peter's attitude entirely. His eyes widened and looked to Wade before he shoved the entire pancake into his mouth.

Wade, all the while, had a smug grin plastered to his face. "Good, huh?" Peter nodded and silently

begged for another. "Help yourself," Wade laughed.

Wade watched Peter as he laid quietly on the couch after he shoved a year's worth of pancakes down his throat. The kid may be small, but he could eat like a fat guy at an All-You-Can-Eat buffet. He was probably stuffed.

Wade silently scraped up the last of his pancake with a fork and quickly shoved it into his mouth. As he chewed, he found himself glancing at Peter's exposed stomach. It was only a sliver of skin, but Wade watched none the less. He knew what was hidden under the clothing and it wasn't helping the fact that he was trying to not feel like a child predator. His eyes shifted to Peter's legs and he briefly wondered how they could change into the long tail he had witnessed the night before.

"You're always staring."

Wade shrugged. "Sorry, man. It's just weird," he lied.

Peter gave a small sigh and stretched upwards, exposing more of his stomach to Wade, who

eyed the light dusting of hair that started at Peter's navel and trailed it's way down to-

"You're doing it again," said Peter, snapping Wade out of his hypnotic trance. "Do all humans stare as much as you?" he asked as he rolled to his stomach.

"If they were in my position," Wade cleared his throat, "they would."

Peter nodded and rubbed his face against the smooth leather of the couch. Silence overpowered

the room, the only sound was the faint knocking of the boat against the dock outside. Finally, it was Peter who spoke up.

"I should be leaving soon," his eyes flickered to the window and watched the water.

"Why?" Wade asked, a bit too concerned for his liking.

Peter looked at him and Wade felt like he missed something. "You said I could only stay for the night." Peter sat up.

"And?"

"And the night is over, so I must leave."

Wade shook his head and scooted closer. "Well, you can't leave now," he looked Peter in the eye.

"You're a merman. Where the hell are you gonna go? And it's not like you can get up and walk, seeing that you can hardly do that. Plus, you don't have clothes. You gonna walk around naked?"

Peter shrugged. "I could've swam."

Wade sighed. "The point is, kid, I'm letting you stay here until we can figure something out."

Peter's eyes began to water and he smiled. "You mean it?"

Wade nodded in a Well-No-Duh manner and Peter got up and hugged him. Wade's face turned bright red as his nose was flooded with Peter's scent.

"Thank you," Peter said and sniffled. He drew back and his eyes traced Wade's brown ones before he moved back towards the couch.

Wade looked away and nodded. "Yeah sure," he cleared his throat. "I have one condition though."

"Condition?"

"Yeah," he said, looking back up. "You gotta tell me why you came here."

Peter looked at Wade in fear. "Y-you won't believe me."

Wade cocked a brow. "Try me."

Peter gave a sad sigh and shook his head, tears beginning to spill. In an ever so quiet tone, he whispered, "I was exiled from my home...because I was accused of murdering my uncle."

Wade's eyes popped from their sockets. "How in the hell did that happen?!"

Peter's breathing grew erratic before he cried into his hands. "I was so angry at him over

something so stupid and-and it was my fault! I shouldn't have left!" His body began to quake as he looked back up at Wade, who was entirely confused.

"I came back home," he continued, "And my uncle was dead and I rushed to him in panic. His blood got everywhere and before I knew it," he looked down at his shaking hands, "I was being yanked away by the Officials and I was told to confess to my uncle's murder. They were telling me things that I did that I didn't remember doing, but they felt real. And for a second," he closed his hand into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut, "I believed them. But, I knew they were wrong because I'd never hurt my Uncle Ben. Ever. I may have been angry, but I would never kill him. But before I could say anything in my defence, I was being told that I was pleading guilty and that I had two options; death or exile.

"I chose the exile, while being confused and scared. My Aunt May...gods, she looked at me with such hatred and fear." Peter let a broken sob fall from his lips. "I knew I could never come back and that whoever killed my uncle is still out there."

Wade took all the information in and, in the end, he could say nothing. How could he respond to something like that? He just looked at Peter with wide eyes, hoping and believing that he didn't have a murderer in his house.

Peter looked at Wade with reddened eyes. "Do you believe me?" he asked, voice trembling. "I'm innocent..."

Wade took a moment to answer, but he eventually nodded. "I believe you," he said. "Just, how are you gonna prove yourself innocent?"

Peter shrugged and shook his head, scrunching his face up. "I don't know," he whispered.

"There's not much I can do. I'd ask my friend Namor for help, but I doubt he'll ever come here again knowing what happened."

"Again?"

"Yeah. Namor and I swam over here quite often. He'd play around with the humans that used to live here while I would watch."

And suddenly all the warnings made sense. Peter's friend was the merman everyone warned Wade about.

"Well that makes sense." Wade said as everything came together. All the stories of the merman pulling people in and being spotted. It was just that Namor kid playing with the previous residents.

Peter cocked his head to the side in confusion. With a furrowed brow (which Wade found irresistibly adorable), he said, "What do you mean by that?"

Wade gave a smile and shook his head. "It just makes sense that it was a different merman pulling people into the lake and not you." Peter nodded with a shrug, the big collar of the giant shirt that the boy was practically swimming in slipped past his shoulder. Wade gawked at him.

"You're staring again," Peter said with a blush.

Wade cleared his throat and apologized. "Say, Peter?" He said, quick to change the subject. "How about we go clothes shopping?"

The boy immediately perked up. "You mean interact with other humans?" He beamed. The thought of talking with others made Peter excited, for he had never talked with another human before. He wondered if they were all nice and kind like Wade, and if they were he'd be more than grateful to make friends with all of them. He hoped that the trip would also provide a temporary distraction from the mess he faced.

"Yeah," said Wade with a smile. Peter was just too cute for him to handle.

Peter launched off the couch in excitement. Before Wade could even blink, he was once again caught in an embrace, which flooded his senses with Peter's scent.

"When can we go," the boy asked as he pulled back and watched Wade's eyes with a bright smile. Wade's heart quickened at the sight, his mood entirely affected by Peter's contagious smile.

With a smile Wade said, "Well, we could go after I find you an outfit to go in." Peter then wobbled quickly towards Wade's room, making him boom with laughter. He couldn't wait to see Peter experience people for the first time.

A/N: Hey guys! Ohmigosh I am so sorry I haven't updated! My computer broke and it took me a while to get it repaired *sobs* But! Fear not! This fic has not been abandoned! I'm hoping to start updating regularly and get 'er done! Also, for some strange reason FF doesn't wanna save the time shifts in this fic, which is really weird. So I apologize for any confusion when the scene changes w/o warning. I'm also planning on writing another Spideypool for you guys! It has a title and everything! It's called Firework and I personally feel like you guys are gonna love it! Hopefully I can get the first two chapters cleaned, typed, and uploaded! Until then, my lovelies!

-Hammy~