Some people shouldn't be allowed to play with alien artefacts. Especially those who found them in some obscure shop that usually only carried fake products.
The tiny shop was frequented by a lot of teenagers, mostly those who giggled and pointed at specific sculptures or bought mystical figurines. Some had a penchant for crystals, others for amulets, the next for rings or cups or books or cards.
One of the buyers was a man in his twenties, purchasing what looked like a broad blade made for cosplays or fantasy games, or just as a decorative item.
It was real, though.
Left over from one of the many incidents that seemed to be centered on New York only and brought on the Avengers to fight off alien things.
SD
It took the buyer less than a month to make a reappearance.
This time clad in an armor that seemed to grow and move as he walked, the sword now part of his right hand. Fused together. Armor plates shifting like a living thing.
And he wreaked havoc.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
It was a sight Tony Stark could have done without for the rest of his life.
Spider-Man, covered in more blood than a human body could possibly hold, the suit torn apart in so many places, it only stuck to him because of the blood. Deep slash marks covered the lean form, forming a net of lacerations.
Jarvis informed him of oh-so-many things that were absolutely wrong, from blood pressure to heartbeat and respiration, to the very fact that most of Spider-Man's blood was outside his body.
His broken body.
Hulk landed beside the fatally wounded man, eyes roaming over him, then he picked him up.
"Get him to the Tower!" Iron Man ordered sharply. "Jarvis, I want the medical team ready!"
"Already on it, sir."
SD
It had been over two years since Peter Parker had bonded to Wade Wilson and nothing of the like had ever happened before. He had teamed with Iron Man, Captain America and the other Avengers from time to time, but he usually worked solo.
Where the Avengers protected the whole world, Spider-Man tried to stick to his home town of New York City, patrolling and helping out with everyday crime. Deadpool tagged along, though he did take on mercenary jobs all over the world when he felt like he needed a change of gear.
Both men were an amazing team, fascinating to watch in a fight, and Tony had to confess that they worked well together. There was a silent understanding between the bonded couple that surpassed everything he had ever thought possible. It wasn't telepathy, but an awareness of the other, where they were, what was happening, that spoke of their trust in each other and the closeness they shared.
SD
Iron Man arrived the same moment the Hulk deposited the limp form on the readied stretcher, but it didn't take a medical scanner to realize that they were too late.
Tony breathed a curse as the helmet retracted.
"I'm sorry, sir," Jarvis said, sounding truly apologetic and close to empathetic. "Mr. Parker lost too much blood."
Hulk roared in fury, hands covered in Peter's blood. It was only because Bruce had been working so hard on controlling his alter ego that the green giant wasn't already tearing into the walls or throwing furniture around.
"Get him to the medical ward," Tony ordered, already shedding the armor. "Bruce, you're needed!"
There was a huff behind him, a mixture of anger and annoyance. When Tony looked over his shoulder he found Bruce, clutching the too wide pants, looking a little shell-shocked.
This had been the Avengers' biggest nightmare.
The death of Spider-Man.
Because no one could tell what the chimera would do.
No one still could.
Deadpool hadn't been there. The Avengers had been.
The guy with the alien armor that seemed to be alive and very much in control of the human inside had popped up without prior warning. He had blown up two businesses, a bank, then proceeded to invade the university campus.
Spider-Man had been the first on the scene, out on patrol and closest to the campus. Iron Man and Captain America had arrived maybe thirty minutes into the fight, the Hulk on their heels.
Spider-Man had already been injured by then, cornered and clearly outmatched by the alien armor and the superior firepower, when the final blow had been dealt.
Tony knew he had yelled Peter's name.
After that it had been an all-out battle to contain the threat and get the body of their ally and friend away to the Tower.
It had been the Hulk who had finally tipped the scales in their favor, and SHIELD had done the rest, but Tony couldn't care less.
Peter was their priority.
SD
So now Spider-Man was in the medical ward at Avengers Tower, his wounds cleaned and closed. Bruce had done his best, even if it looked like he was treating a corpse, and he had roped Natasha into helping him. She hadn't looked too disgusted and her knowledge concerning injuries – whether she caused them or had to treat them on someone – had been helpful. Wires attached to Peter's head and chest to keep track of possible changes.
Right now there was a flat line.
He was wrapped in bandages, hiding the horrific cuts and gaping wounds. The costume had been a total loss and they had peeled it off the cooling skin, wiping away blood as they did it. His skin was ashen, his usually so vibrant eyes closed.
He was dead.
Truly dead.
Where Deadpool would still be conscious and complaining about missing limbs or holes in his body, Peter had truly died and he hadn't shown a single sign of healing.
"Jarvis?" Tony asked, voice emotionless. "Update."
"No change," the AI responded. "Mr. Parker isn't simply unconscious at the moment; he is, by all means, dead."
Tony expelled a breath. "It's been an hour," he murmured.
"Mr. Parker isn't the chimera, sir," Jarvis reminded him. "He is simply bonded to one, so jumpstarting his regenerative powers might take another course than Mr. Wilson's."
They all knew that and Tony prayed that Peter did heal this devastating injury. The man had lost most of his blood, had had major organ damage and the broken bones were almost secondary to that.
"Fingers crossed," he breathed.
"I don't have fingers, sir," Jarvis replied.
Tony twitched a little smile. "Keep monitoring."
"Of course. What else would I do?"
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
No one knew how Deadpool had made it into the Tower, past all security, and into the medical ward.
But here he was, ninety minutes after Peter had been brought in.
Sitting next to Peter's bed, hunched over, eyes on the unmoving body. And he was in full gear, katanas on his back, armed to the teeth. Jarvis had informed Tony of the amount of weaponry on the man and Tony had simply sighed, hoping any confrontation would be just a verbal one.
Working together in the past years had given all of the Avengers a better insight into who the mercenary was underneath the brash and rude exterior, the big mouth and the even bigger guns. It had been confusing, revealing and kind of surprising to get to know the man little by little, especially when he was around Peter, who seemed to be able to balance the wildly fluctuating personality with a touch or a soft word.
That was what the anchor was all about.
And it went both ways.
Now the man was here and Steve had shaken his head when Tony had wanted to waltz in.
"How does he get in here? Again and again!" the billionaire hissed. "I have the best security system in the world!"
"And he is a preternatural of unknown abilities whose bonded mate is currently dead in our medical ward," Steve stated evenly. "It's not the first time he has come in here and it won't be the last."
"He also hasn't killed anyone while getting here," Natasha added coolly, sounding almost impressed. "Not even missing limb, though we might find someone with a little bruise. At least a bruised ego that he made it past them."
Tony shot her a glare, then his eyes were on the unmoving figure. His expression softened a little.
"Yeah, at least he didn't leave a pile of bodies in his wake."
Steve twitched a smile. "Peter's good influence, I suppose."
"Probably," Tony amended.
"Definitely," Natasha agreed. "Deadpool isn't the most stable of people and going over the top is just his thing. Any scenario I ran in my head with Spider-Man's death as the starting point ended up in carnage and a lot of bloodshed. He has control over his emotions, Tony. This, in there," she nodded at the mercenary, "is a man in complete control. I wouldn't poke him with a long stick, because that might just break the façade, but whether we like it or not, he has come a long way."
Tony grunted. He had to agree to that. "And still no sign of life."
"You think he won't recover?" Steve wanted to know, sounding neutral.
"Oh please, don't say that!" he groaned. "If we are all absolutely wrong about this, Deadpool will flip. Completely. I doubt there is anyone anywhere who can stop whatever happens then. The man's a nightmare and indestructible."
Natasha crossed her arms in front of her chest, lips a thin line. No one wanted to think of what Deadpool might do, might even turn into, if Peter didn't come back. The chimera had had only one shot at bonding, and this man, Peter Parker, was it. His death might start a catastrophe.
Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. "He'll pull through."
"I'd take a heartbeat and brain activity right now. Anything but a flat line."
Neither man wanted to speculate what a chimera with a broken bond would do. Bruce had told them over and over again that the bond couldn't break through death, that he was convinced the chimera would pull its mate back from the brink, but today was… no longer theory. It was reality; it had happened.
"Jarvis, keep an eye on them. Both of them. I want to know about every little change."
"Of course, sir."
Natasha just walked away after another look.
"Nothing we can do," Steve only said. "Let it happen naturally."
"We'll in all kinds of natural shit if nothing happens," Tony said evenly. "I'm not placing any bets."
"Peter will be fine."
Tony kept his fingers crossed.
tbc...