"So, how freaky is the freak show?" Deadpool asked casually, though there was nothing casual about his whole posture.

Tense lines, fingers flexing just a little, weight shifting like he was drawn between an attack and a retreat. His eyes were hard, mouth drawn tight, and even if that wasn't already a warning and a clear sign of his inner turmoil, he had pulled up the hood of the sweater jacket and his hands were covered by gloves.

Peter forced himself to ignore the disheartening sight.

It had been two days since the incident at Stark's and Peter had kept busy swinging through the streets of New York, Deadpool in tow, chasing burglars, rubbers and vandals, thwarting a few car thefts and assisting the fire department when a gas line had ruptured.

Deadpool had ended up with some seriously burned hands that had healed without trouble when he had saved a family and their cats from the house.

Peter wouldn't be able to forget the stunned expression on his bonded's face when the mother had hugged him fiercely, thanking him over and over in broken English.

It had been a good day.

Deadpool had been on a high that he usually only ever had when he went out to unalive someone.

Now Peter felt the silky darkness of the chimera at the edge of his mind. It was more pronounced than before.

Peter had slowly learned to read the presence at the other end of the bond. It was a powerful predator, its presence as sharp and focused as a shapeshifter would be in his alternate form, but this was a preternatural without the ability to change his full shape. The teeth were just a minor change.

Sometimes there were surges along the bond, but nothing that disturbed his own thoughts or interrupted is concentration. The pressure would increase, alert him to Deadpool's emotional state of mind, and Peter had learned to smooth over the waves to a degree. It was almost like a touch, but no physical aspects were involved.

Like now.

Peter brushed over the vortex, treacherously silky and cool. From within the darkness the chimera watched, tense, ready.

"Your DNA is prettier than mine," Peter just said. "Which means, so are you."

Wade snorted, anger chasing embarrassment and pain. The tension wasn't abating, though. He was thrumming with it.

Peter pushed gently closer, the darkness parting before him, enveloping him from behind, but it wasn't a smothering feeling. It was an embrace, clinging to him for balance. The anchor.

"Want to test that theory outside? Let's go downstairs, no caps, no hoods, watch who's changing the side of the street faster. Maybe they even pack up and leave, move to another fucking country!"

Peter closed the distance, his touch brief, just a brush of his fingers against Wade's hip and side. It had an immediate effect, the other man slumping a little and leaning closer, seeking his mate's nearness.

"No," he murmured. "Not testing anything. And before we scare the natives, you owe May dinner."

Wade blinked, then smiled a little. "Not giving up, hm?"

"On you? Never."

"So what does pretty little DNA me look like? Any sexy parts?"

Peter grinned. "All sexy all the time."

"Now you're just fishing for compliments, baby boy. So here goes: you have the sexiest body I've ever had the honor of defiling more than once. You got the smarts to go with the nerd looks and that athlete's body, and I have no fucking clue how you never landed anyone, because let me tell you, you are a sex kitten!" He waggled his eyebrows. "How's that?"

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "I knew there was a reason I have it so bad for you, smooth talker."

"And don't you ever forget it."

Oh, he wouldn't. Nor would he be distracted from the real reason they were having this semi-conversation.

"So, sexy parts?" Wade poked. "Aside from the obvious hard-on I've got for you? Any succubus?"

He laughed again. "They don't exist."

"Could have fooled me," his partner purred. "You're so hard to take your eyes off, baby boy. Hard. Huh. Yeah, I'm hard for you all the time, my little succubus. Oh, wait, no. Me, that's me. I should have that superpower!"

Peter gave him a little slap against the side for it.

"No succubus. They don't exist. There are notes about supernatural DNA strands from werewolves and nuckelavee, but it looks shapeshifting never took. They were hoping for claws and maybe brief full shifts."

"Claws puncture the gloves. Nope. Too cost intensive," Deadpool commented. "But it would look cool. Wolverine's claws are awesome! Oh, and did you ever see Black Panther's? Those are out of this world! He can retract them and vibranium is simply bad ass. But his aren't real. And Wolvie's were suped up with adamantium." He wriggled his fingers, then made clawing motions. "I might just be able to climb up trees."

"You're already rescuing cats."

Deadpool rocked back, shaking a finger at him. "You take that back! I don't do boy scout! Were you a boy scout? Because I do you…"

Peter wondered how much of the distraction was instinctive and how much was planned. He just kissed Wade, silencing him effectively.

"Uh, works," the other man mumbled. "Yeah, that works."

Arms curled around his waist and hips, pulling him in closer. Peter didn't protest. They were both still fully clothed. Neither felt the need to take this any further. It was simply the desire for physical closeness.

Right now, it was also reassurance.

Peter ran his hands over the solid warmth, projecting all that. He liked touching Wade, liked how it made him feel, how it made the other man react. He was so very much aware of the powerful creature inside the other man's soul, how it was connected to Peter on a primal level that should be scaring him, frightening in its intensity.

It had never been.

It was a good feeling, boosting his own confidence. Not just as Spider-Man. He had never been anything but confident behind the mask. This was balancing him as Peter Parker. Feeling the darkness at the other end of the unbreakable anchor line, knowing that this was his, that the chimera trusted the nerdy geek, the kid with the glasses, not just the super hero in spandex.

Peter captured the scarred lips, the kiss long, deep, relaying everything they never really said.

"I'll destroy the drive," he promised.

"There is more on it."

"I don't need it."

"Watch it."

"No."

The expressive brown eyes held a hard to interpret look. "Watch it. I don't mind."

"I do. I don't want to see them torture you, Wade. I don't want to see you suffer. Or how they bonded you to a handler. Then killed you. Your past is your past. Knowing what they mixed together to create the chimera isn't important."

"It is," he breathed. "Because it's connected to you and it won't let go," he insisted. "Ever."

"I know you. I know because of our bond. I can feel you in a way no one else can and that's perfect."

Wade buried his face against Peter's neck, giving a wet, brief laugh. "I don't deserve you, Peter Parker."

He ran his hands over the bald head. "You chose me. Your preternatural side. Your instinct." He pressed his lips against the scars.

"The chimera won't ever let you go."

"I know. I'm totally okay with it. I'm not going to let go of it either. It's mine."

There was a sharp exhalation of air against his neck, but Wade didn't say anything.

"Keep… keep the drive," the man whispered harshly. "Just… keep it somewhere safe. It's important."

Peter was silent.

"I'm an artificially grafted… mutant. Preternatural mutant or something. Who knows when we might need something. I already have changed. Fangs, y'know."

Yes, Peter knew.

"Might start growing claws. Rawr. How about wings? People love a good wingfic!"

"Wade…" he sighed, letting exasperation bleed into his voice.

He raised his head out of Peter's neck, eyes intense, expression decisive. "Keep it. The drive. Just… somewhere safe."

"Okay," he agreed.

And that was that.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

Peter wasn't stupid. He understood what Deadpool had been trying to tell him repeatedly, what he had been apologizing for at random hours in bed or while they were sharing couch space. He understood the connection, the life bond. The chimera wasn't understood by anyone, but he had a direct line to the terrifying creature that couldn't be classified.

Yes, he understood that Deadpool, that Wade Wilson, was immortal. He didn't just not age; he came back from every kind of death. Nothing could kill the man. Peter knew what it meant.

In case of such a bond… if the partner died, the hellhound died.

The hellhound had died.

The chimera had come in its stead, had been reborn.

It had been reborn with the ability to bond once again, and Peter had been its choice.

Sitting on a roof, looking over New York at night, Peter felt himself smile.

He was proud. He was possessive. He was insanely happy.

"Are you sure?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "Isn't that question a little too late?" he asked. "Coming here now, a year into the whole mess, isn't helping. It's actually nosey and prying. Not sure what you're trying to accomplish. Nothing will change. At all."

It got him a chuckle. "Yes, it is late. I've been watching Wade for a long time, have tried to talk to him, but he was never… very approachable. He is a very powerful preternatural with an incredible potential. You bring out the best in him. You're good for him."

"Debatable. He's Deadpool and I'm not going to change what and who he is. He's also a chimera. You can't force Wade into anything. He wanted to change; I didn't push him into it. He worked hard to be better. I just gave him a chance. It has always been just him."

The silence behind him was filled with amusement. Spider-Man glanced at the seated figure. It wasn't even real. A projection. The massive, silver figure next to it wasn't, though. Colossus was very real and he didn't really look amused.

Then again, he never looked amused. Especially when it came to Deadpool. Peter had yet to meet anyone who didn't scowl, frown or get downright violent when Deadpool's name fell.

"We're not going to join the X-Men," he stated neutrally.

"I'm no longer asking."

"You didn't ask before. You had him," he gestured at Colossus, "try to abduct him."

There was a rueful chuckle. "I offer to teach a mutant about their powers, about control, about being accepted as they are. Deadpool was… out of control. He killed. He left mayhem in his path. I wanted to teach him that his difference doesn't mean he has to live in anger and pain. I no longer have to teach him that."

Peter frowned. "You never had to teach him any of those things. You're a telepath, Professor. You should have known."

"Like some others, very few others, Deadpool is resistant to telepathic intrusions. Cerebro could pick him up as a very powerful preternatural presence of unknown classification when Weapon X was done with him, but I could never talk to him directly, nor influence his mind. The chimera is a chaotic creature. The chaos blocks any such form of contact."

Ah.

"Deadpool has found his peace in you, Mr. Parker. He needs you."

"The feeling's mutual." Peter frowned behind the mask. "Why are you really here, Professor? You're not going to recruit us. Neither will the Avengers. I'm not going to keep Wade on a leash and tell him what he can and can't do. He's not killing anyone. But if he takes a job, I can't prevent that. And I won't. So what do you want?"

"I'm quite aware of all that. As aware as you are of the consequences of your bond. To an immortal being."

"Yes."

The professor leaned forward in his chair. "He cannot die, Spider-Man."

"Hence the whole immortal thing. I know all that. I'm not stupid."

"I didn't say that. Hellhounds perish when the bonded partner dies. The chimera can't die, naturally or unnaturally. I can feel the strength with which it holds onto you, Peter. It won't let you go either."

Peter looked at the telepath, the holographic rendition of him, eyes briefly going to Colossus. He was sure there were others around. His spider sense was buzzing at a low level.

"I don't intend to let go of him either," he stated flatly. "Everyone has been trying to tell me how bad this is, what an idiot I am, how blind to his true nature. Tell you what: I'm not and never were. I think I saw more than all of you put together. I made the first step, not Deadpool. I offered, he refused to spare me his so-called darkness. Guess what? I don't mind. I can feel it all and it's not a nightmare, it's not about to tear me to pieces, and it's not dominating me."

Colossus shifted a little and Spider-Man shot him a dark look.

"I made this choice. Voluntarily. With all information at my disposal. Now please, leave us alone."

"Did you have all information?" Xavier asked. "Did you know that the bond wouldn't change Deadpool? Make him human and mortal?"

"A bond can't change a genetic make-up," Peter scoffed. "I'm a scientist, Professor. Please give me some credit! There is no magic involved here and never will be. Weapon X set up the chimera and it's only ever going to evolve, not turn into something different than it is. I can't feel him die either. I don't physically share his pain or injuries. Another myth."

"But he changed you, Peter."

"I'm an artificially altered human," he stated neutrally. "A spider bite and whatever Oscorp did to the spider changed me. It changed my own genetic set-up and made it compatible to Wade's, who I didn't even know back then. It was a freakish stroke of luck that we met."

"And now?"

"We're facing life together. And I'd thank you for not interfering anymore."

And he shot out a web line. He had enough. Everyone was pointing out the consequences of the bond when there was nothing he hadn't heard or thought of before. Why had he acquired so many nannies and parental units? Why did everyone think he was immature, innocent and blind to what the bond to the chimera meant?

Peter was on the other end of this and he felt it. Deeply. Absolutely.

SD

No one stopped him.

SD

No one came after him. There wasn't even an attempt at telepathic communication, which he found odd, but maybe Xavier respected his wishes.

Yeah, right.

tbc...