Peter woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, pancakes and bacon.

He just lay in bed, blinking, the sun already streaming through the windows, and one look on the clock on the nightstand told him he had overslept by several hours.

Well, damn.

Last night had been a flurry of fighting, running, chasing and generally beating the crap out of some overgrown rodents that had come out of the sewers and had started to chew up cars. People had been spared, though they had become collateral due to the fact that the sewer rats hadn't discriminated between cars and whoever sat in them.

Bruised, battered, costume shredded, bleeding from too many scratches and bites to count, Spider-Man had finally managed to snag the leader and when he had had it, the rest had followed.

Right into one huge containment area set up by shield.

Thanks but no thanks battling the things, Peter thought, still miffed that they hadn't shown up until the last moment.

Hill hadn't even given him an explanation for their tardiness. Probably Avenger related, since they hadn't been around either.

Moving, Peter suppressed a wince as he got up. One look into the mirror told the whole story, and it wasn't a pretty one.

Yeah, he had looked better.

One side of his face was a massive bruise, there was more of that going on along his ribs, and he had had to wrap one knee and one wrist because he had either pulled something, torn it off, or maybe even fractured something. Last night, Peter had been too wasted to care.

The gurgle from a coffee machine had him rearrange his thoughts.

Coffee. Breakfast. Someone had made breakfast.

Wade. Deadpool.

He was back.

Peter smile to himself.

Deadpool had taken on a job in some obscure African country, which had been two days after dinner at May's. One didn't relate to the other. It only meant he had been gone for close to three weeks, sending Peter regular updates that sounded like a travel blog, including pictures of whatever caught his attention. That meant anything from touristy stuff to food to rocks on the side of the road that he had found fascinating. Both the rocks and the roads.

"Hey, baby boy!" Wade brightly greeted him in the kitchen, though it was clear to see that the cheerfulness was only a flimsy mask.

He was wearing an apron that proclaimed he was the World's Bestest. No explanation what he was the bestest at. And yes, it said 'bestest'. It was a black and red color scheme that looked suspiciously like the Deadpool insignia.

"Hey. Welcome home. Didn't even hear you"

"Snuck in the wee hours of morning. Saw you out like a light. Didn't want to interrupt the beauty sleep you so badly needed. Rough night?"

Wade was struggling to keep the scowl off his face, but he did show worry.

"Kinda."

Peter slowly lowered himself onto a bar stool, resting his elbows on the kitchen island. He yawned then winced a little.

"You look like roadkill," Wade stated casually, plonking coffee in front of him with a flourish. His eyes ran over the visible bruises like scanning for more.

"Feels worse."

"Could be worse," was the serious addition. "You made the news. Looking pretty, I tell you. Missing only your fantastic side-kick Deadpool." He struck a pose with the spatula. "But blood and gore was a turn-off for first place."

"I know. Wasn't my bestest fight," he teased, nodding at the apron.

"I'll get you a t-shirt."

Peter sipped at the black brew. It was amazing and definitely not the usual stuff. He raised an eyebrow at his partner. And ouch, that hurt, too.

Wade grabbed a bag of coffee beans and plopped it next to Peter's mug. "Had some of it in a roadside gas station. Had to buy it. There's more where that came from."

"Dark Magic," Peter read, not even asking just how much coffee bags Wade had bought. "Huh. Hope it does the trick."

"Oh, it does. Keeps you going and going, though I'd say right now, you need to keep healing and healing."

"Hey, it's magic. It might do that, too. And weren't you in Africa? This says Vermont."

Wade smirked and heaped food onto a plate, then planted a candle atop the stack of pancakes.

"Uh?" Peter managed, looking kind of dumbly at the candle.

"Happy birthday?"

Oh. Right.

His birthday.

He hadn't celebrated it ever since Uncle Ben's death. Not his sixteenth. Not his eighteenth. Not the twenty-first or anyone after that. Deadpool hadn't given him anything last year, respecting Peter's wishes.

"I know it's not your thing and all, but it's not just that. I mean, it is. It's just.. Happy anniversary?"

Peter blinked, then a slow smile crept over his lips. That didn't hurt all too much.

Right.

Two years ago, a few hours before his twenty-third birthday, he had revealed his identity, his face, all of it, to Deadpool, giving him the ultimate in trust.

It was kind of an anniversary.

Not when they had met the first time. Not when they had accepted the bond. Not when they had slept together.

No, it was the day he had showed Deadpool his face.

"Happy anniversary," he replied softly. "I didn't get you anything."

Wade's expression was a million emotions mixed with a million thoughts. The dark eyes reflected them all, just like it reflected the night terror within.

"Got all I want," was the honest reply.

"You're a sap, Wade Wilson."

"You should know, Peter Parker."

Yeah, it was sappy. It gave him this warm, gooey feeling deep inside that nothing had ever managed before.

Even after two years.

"Missed work," Peter broke the silence.

"Oh, forgot. The Deadpool answering machine is broken." He shrugged. "Recording went missing. Screwed up in there." He gestured at his head. "Your boss called. Said to sleep it off and take sick days or whatever else it says in your freelance contract. Apparently the Avengers stumbled back into town last night and got an eyeful of the vermin problem."

"Huh. Okay. Still have work." He smiled.

"They would be idiots to fire you over being a hero," the other man muttered.

SD

Breakfast was wonderful.

SD

The kiss tasted of syrup and bacon. Wade didn't push forward, just slid a careful hand over his battered ribs and cheek, as if he was checking for worse damage.

"It's okay, Wade," Peter reassured him.

"It's not. I wasn't there."

"I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself. I have before you came into my life and I can still do it now."

Wade scowled.

Peter knew his healing would take care of it and he would be fine soon, but right now even the thought of anything more strenuous than being a couch potato had him cringe.

"I know you're a big boy. Everywhere it counts," he added with a grin.

"You just want to kick the ass of the rodent that bit me?"

Wade snorted. Peter felt a shiver along the bond. Up until now the chimera had been almost docile.

"I just want to kick some ass. That's all."

"Next time."

"Now would be nice."

"Down, boy."

Wade kept running his palms over the places where Spider-Man had taken the most damage. He rested one hand flat against Peter's ribcage, the warmth seeping through the thin layer of the sleep shirt. He leaned forward and kissed the bruised cheek.

"What do you want to do for our anniversary?" he finally asked. "Aside from the obvious, which is off the table unless you're into pain. Which you are not."

"Which I'm not," he confirmed. "Usually I go web-slinging on my birthday, which is off limits, too, unless there's an emergency. So… no idea?"

"Sit on the Brooklyn Bridge and watch people move far underneath us? Have a blast at IKEA? Take a few bus tours around the city just for the laughs and giggles?"

Peter raised his eyebrows again, chewing on the pancakes. Which were delicious and heavenly as always.

"You. Want to take a bus ride. Or weather IKEA," he stated.

It got him a careless shrug.

"Right." Peter shook his head. "No," he decided.

His partner looked almost relieved.

"How about we just stay here, watch TV, play video games, eat our body weight in food?" Peter suggested.

"You make it sound so romantic."

"You just got back from who-knows-where. I spent last night kicking hairy rodent ass. I want to have some personal time with my bonded."

The chimera seemed to surge forward over the bond, no longer held in check, and Peter smiled at the tiny little wave of emotional energy.

SDSDSD

So that's what they did.

Noting special, but still special to them.

Peter gave his body time to recuperate and Wade told him about his trip without getting into too much detail about stuff Peter rather didn't want to know about.

SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD

May Parker was honestly surprised when she found Peter's bonded mate on her door step, looking nervous and slightly apprehensive. For a man who had been in Special Forces, who couldn't be killed, who was deadly with any kind of weapon, he appeared more like a little boy than any of that to her.

"Wade," she greeted him. "What a surprise."

It had been three months since she had first met the man and they had talked on the phone once or twice, but Wade hadn't come along when Peter visited her. She didn't hold it against him. May had given him an open invitation to come by whenever he felt he wanted, not when he had to because of a birthday or the holidays.

"Bad surprise?" Wade immediately asked, slightly apprehensive.

"No, not at all."

"If it's a bad time…?"

"Actually, I just tried out my friend Rose's new pie recipe. I could use a test eater."

He gave her a bright smile. "I'm good at eating. I like eating."

She laughed. "Then come in."

Wade followed her into the kitchen and made appreciative noises when she handed him a large slice of the mixed berry pie.

"Wow," he breathed, mouth full. "Tell your friend Rose it's amazing. Or is this your version of it? Then you are amazing, Aunt May! Scratch that. You're amazing with and without the pie."

She smiled. The enthusiasm was real, as was the appreciation. Just looking into those bright eyes, May knew Wade was happy with the pie and her invitation to try it. She had no idea why he had dropped by the neighborhood, without Peter on top of that, but there had to be a reason and she probably would find out soon enough.

And May was right.

Wade ate a second slice, then declined a third, patting his toned stomach.

"I can eat a lot, but I don't have Petey's metabolism. He can eat his body weight in tacos if he has to."

"Yes, I noticed his appetite when he was a teenager. It grew exponentially over night. I always thought it was because he was a growing boy. Now, knowing what I do, I think it was his mutation."

May refilled the coffee cup Wade had already emptied. She gave him a searching look.

He played with the mug, then finally sighed.

"I appreciate… that you accepted me," Wade finally said, voice soft, eyes on the table. "It's not… something I expected. I never thought Peter would react the way he did, but he wanted this…" He gestured at himself. "He is one of few. And he knows what happened to make me look like this."

He looked at May, who kept her silence.

"You never asked about it."

"I believe that when you're ready, if you ever feel safe enough, you would tell me," she replied gently. "Peter said your injuries resemble burns. I'm a nurse. I can tell it's not just that, but it's not my place to pry."

"You're Peter's mother."

"I'm his aunt."

"You raised him. He's your son, May. You care for him, protect him, want what's best. I'm sure you didn't imagine this."

"I didn't imagine a lot of things Peter did and that have happened to him, Wade. And you're not a 'this'. You're a very caring, very nice person."

"Uh… you do know who I am?"

She twitched a smile. "Yes. You are Deadpool. I know your resume."

He blinked. "And you think I'm best for Peter?"

"He bonded to you. You two fit. You are compatible. That isn't something that happens lightly or by chance. It's a connection formed because you… match. Like kindred spirits. Nothing matters but the match."

He nodded mutely.

"And he loves you. I can see it. I've seen that boy fall for boys and girls both. He liked Gwen a lot and he was devastated when she died. You… he's different with you."

"Oh," Wade said quietly.

"I wouldn't be this calm and accepting if you were anyone else. You are older than Peter, you have a very dangerous occupation. You killed people for money," she stated matter-of-fact.

"Not any more?" he tried, sounding rather meek.

May knew this man was a cold-blooded killer, had taken countless lives and had been hired to do so much more. The media said he had no conscience. Looking at him now, taking in the tension and the out-of-his-depth look, she couldn't reconcile that with the man who had dropped by.

Wade Wilson was Deadpool, but he was also so much more. She understood he had been through a lot and had suffered terribly, but she had yet to hear the full story.

"Peter told me he tried to help you change, that you wanted the change. I appreciate the gesture." May nodded. "I also realize that your preternatural nature is both the protector and the killer."

"Yeah, well, it's been kinda… warped?" He shrugged. "You can see it on the outside already. Doesn't look any better inside. Since you follow all the fun reports about me and Spidey, you know they call me unstable and insane. Can't argue with the instability. Off kilter, really."

"You have a bonded mate for that now. Peter is your anchor and will keep you from going off too deeply."

Wade blinked. "Uh, yeah."

"And physical appearance is secondary, Wade. It's the soul that counts."

"Mine was destroyed," he murmured.

May tilted her head, intrigued. "A soul cannot be destroyed."

"Just… taken apart and spliced with all kinds of nasty stuff. I'm one big puzzle of bad and worse, not to mention ugly. Not pretty."

She looked into his eyes and Wade bit his lower lip, teeth scraping over scars. He was clearly running an intense inner debate. His hands were clenched into fists and the tension was almost palpable.

And then he started to talk. To explain. Open up about his past, his illness. The terminal cancer.

And his choice to undergo a treatment that had promised him a possible cure, but which had been torture, turning him into what he was today, and that had destroyed all that had been Wade Wilson.

It had destroyed the hellhound.

May curled the fingers of one hand around his as he told her about losing Vanessa Carlysle. She felt sick at the thought of bonding a preternatural of the hellhound's nature and then killing the handler in front of him.

Wade continued, told her about taking revenge, feeling soulless and empty, the darkness inside him growing more and more. How he would kind of phase out, just let go and kill an opponent with no regard to collateral damage. Those were the worst moments, coming back and finding bodies littering the ground, his suit covered in blood, and the chimera still raging inside and wanting more.

And then he met Spider-Man.

His eyes brightened and the smile was warm and gentle.

This was the man her adopted son loved. This was a preternatural bonded to her Peter, who would protect him with his immortal life. May didn't care about the age difference. Maybe he was older than Peter, but it didn't matter in their lives.

"So he will share your life?" she asked when he winded up his explanation.

Wade understood what she was asking. She could see it in his shifting expression.

"We… think so?" he hedged softly.

May nodded. "Good."

"Uh, what?"

"You won't be alone. Ever again. Neither will Peter. I'm so glad."

SD

Wade wanted to cry. He really did. It wasn't exactly the most manly, bad-ass thing to do, but this woman had him want to open the flood gates.

"No," he whispered. "I won't. Neither will he. I promise, on my life and my honor, I won't let anything happen to Peter. It's my oath."

She cupped his cheek in a motherly fashion and Wade felt his eyes mist a little. "I know. Thank you, Wade. So very much."

Then she hugged him.

And he hugged her back.

If there were tears, neither mentioned them.

tbc...