Deadpool was an unmoving rock at Spider-Man's side, radiating danger, creeping out everyone. He was absolutely silent, barely twitched a muscle, but his eyes seem to glow silver behind the mask.
It was a bright, unearthly light, unlike anything seen before.
A low but inaudible rumble seemed to surround him, like a distant thunder that couldn't be heard, only felt, and those close by cringed away from what they sensed radiating off the still figure.
Danger.
Absolute danger. Deadly, swift, merciless.
The primitive part of the brain was shouting at everyone to just run, not look back, and hide in a very deep hole. Instinct took over, raised the stress level, had the muscles tighten in response, and the heartbeat thundering.
No, no one wanted to be around the chimera right now.
And he was silent.
A silent Deadpool was a dangerous Deadpool. He was extremely bad news.
It was an unusual occurrence on a good day, but right now was as far from good as it could get.
No one walked into the room; at all.
The chimera sat right behind those glowing eyes, a thin, human barrier between the world and the nightmare it represented, all tense lines and sharp curves. It had come all out, insubstantial wings no longer just a figment behind it. They were flaring behind the nightmarish body, impossibly huge and razor sharp. Talons that could slice apart anything they touched clicked together.
And they held onto the soul of its mate with a gentleness that was the opposite of its true nature.
All its senses were trained on its partner.
Glacially white eyes regarded the other end of the bond, no barrier left between it and Peter, the night terror firmly anchored in both souls.
With the barriers completely gone, the energy roamed between the two men, unchecked, but controlled and with a purpose. It was something that could destroy another soul with a flick of its surreal tongue, but it only caressed and enfolded its mate's core with infinite softness.
There wasn't a psychic preternatural close by, thankfully. They would have seen the full form of the seemingly malicious monster, would have felt the power, and it might just overwhelm an untrained preter of that ability.
But even humans could sense the energies, the razor-sharp presence, and the primal hindbrain was clamoring to run and hide from the apex predator.
SD
Jarvis monitored them ceaselessly, untouched by the raging psychic waves.
SDSDSD
Peter knew he had died, but then again, he wasn't dead.
Not that he knew what death felt like.
It was more of a certainty, an absolute fact in his mind that while he wasn't alive, he also wasn't dead. His mind was grappling with the paradox, but deep inside there was nothing but calmness, seeping into his very being.
He wasn't physical. Not really. He didn't have hands or feet, or even eyes to blink with, but he still felt like his old self.
Something whispered through the nothingness he seemed to float in.
Around him the world came into focus, taking on shape, growing darker, but still he could see like he would in normal light. This was just… the absence of light. He didn't need light to see.
He was inside the vortex.
And around him, something moved like a huge, lithe thing, whispering, sliding closer, the sound of skin-scale-fur-flesh. Surreal, never a true shape, but still so very much there. It was more than physical. It was so much more than anything a human mind could grasp.
Peter felt the touch, like a caress, then a grasp.
Holding him.
Keeping him anchored as he watched the inky blackness curiously.
The chimera was everywhere, wings infinite and never really there, the mass of its form endless. Silver eyes blinked out of the vortex, then a maw filled with razor-sharp teeth opened. It looked like a creature right out of the worst horror movie, and then some. Nothing could get the terror of the chimera on screen or paper. It was without a clear shape, but whoever met it without barrier could feel the horror.
Not Peter.
He felt no fear, just endless fascination. He felt it along the bond, strong and relentless, all death, destruction and blood hunger. He reached out, without real hands, and touched the presence, drawing a pleased rumble that ended in a crackling purr. He felt the coiled energies, hidden underneath a deceptively thin barrier, the very life it contained. It was a life born out of infinity; endless.
Talons slid over his form, caressing Peter, and he leaned into the touch, feeling the energy seep into him. The chimera came closer, the illusion of its shape falling like a silky veil, leaving him exposed to the true nature and yet it wasn't exposure at all.
Fierce protectiveness radiated from the preternatural as it enveloped him in an intimate embrace, hugging him, nuzzling against Peter's soul like an overgrown puppy.
He wrapped his arms around it, feeling safe, content and warm.
The chimera hummed, possessive and needy in one.
The predator almost purred. Like a kitten it seemed to curl up, wanted Peter close.
Peter was accepted. Peter belonged to it.
And it was Peter's.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
In the private room, Deadpool felt the pulse of life, even if there was none for a machine to register.
Peter was alive, but the body needed a moment longer to jumpstart.
He could feel it.
The chimera knew it with an unshakable certainty.
A rumble passed through the vortex and it leaned forward, nosing at the silent anchor, then slid around the calm center of its mate, purring softly.
The claws dug deeper.
There was a twitch and it hummed, pleased.
Deadpool wanted to touch the lax hand, run explorative fingers over the sharp features. He wanted to feel the depth of the bruises on the ashen skin. He wanted to soothe the pain.
Something called out to him.
Something strong.
A million and one emotions crashed down on him and he fought through the wave, never showing a single twitch.
Then there was a tremor along the bond.
A whisper of a breath.
It writhed around him, enveloped him.
And the heart started to beat.
Deadpool breathed out a sigh of relief, fingers sliding over the soft skin of the pulse point, counting.
The apex predator in him growled softly, his fingers curling around the slender wrist in an almost possessive move.
His.
If someone had been there to see his smile, even visible through the mask, dark and possessive and feral, they would have backed away very slowly.
As it was, only cameras watched. And Jarvis.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
All the way out in Westchester, Charles Xavier blinked, feeling a flare in psychic energy of a magnitude he had never sensed before. It was a powerful surge, barely a second, but it rushed across the mind planes and left scourge marks in its wake.
Xavier closed his eyes for a moment.
He felt the presence, solid, an absolute fact, a heavy vortex of psychic power that, while not drawing anyone toward it, could so easily hurt psychically talented preternaturals. But all that power was aimed only one way: its mate. The tightly coiled energy was flowing toward another soul, only meant for that one person, and Xavier could only marvel at it.
The chimera had nearly gone past its human shell. It had moved out of the darkness, into the light, the vortex barely holding it, and it had been a terrifying surge.
To pull its mate back from death.
So it had happened, he thought. Peter had died and the chimera hadn't let go.
It proved that their suspicions had been absolutely right.
And that the powerful preternatural was bordering to something else, to something terrible that, unleashed, couldn't be contained any more.
The professor exhaled slowly.
As much as he wanted to talk to both men about what had happened, he knew he wouldn't be welcome. Deadpool had made it abundantly clear that he didn't welcome anyone.
And Xavier honored his promise.
No matter how curious he was.
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
Peter came back to life with barely a gasp. From one moment to the next the machines attached to him started to register brain and heart activity.
Jarvis monitored him as organs formed and skin knit together, his heart beating strong and regularly, as bones straightened and clicked into place. There was no difference to how Deadpool healed, just with a time delay. Where Deadpool started to close gaping wounds right away and breaks disappeared quickly, Peter had taken a little to get the hang of it, it seemed.
Bruce was watching the medical read-outs with eagle eyes, shaking his head a little.
"Amazing," he murmured. "Absolutely amazing."
"You think it happened because Deadpool was close by?" Tony asked, eyes skimming over the medical data that was a little outside his field of expertise.
"I can't be sure, but I doubt it," Bruce answered, straightening. "Distance has no influence on the bond. Either Peter needs longer because he isn't the chimera, just sharing his soul with the preternatural mutation of the hellhound, or it's because this was the first time. I'd have to go through Wilson's file to compare his first regeneration to this one."
SDSDSDSDSDSDSDSDSD
When Peter opened his eyes it was to the sight of Deadpool hovering over him. A wide smile reflected through the mask and the white eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire.
"Welcome, baby boy! You made it through your first death! Congrats are in order! How was the trip? Did you get to meet Lady Death? She's gonna be so pissed that you share my abilities to evade her lovely arms."
"Wade," he murmured, voice rough and dry. His mouth felt like a sandbox.
Gloved fingers brushed over his cheek. Peter smiled at the gesture, felt the bond twang with worry and fear, sensed the chimera hovering over him with a raw protectiveness it rarely displayed so openly.
Peter was hyper-aware of his partner and mate. It was like a conduit of energy was suddenly open between them, heat and fire and something even stronger coursing through him.
Deadpool seemed like a looming wall of darkness in the middle of this turmoil, ready to strike - and still not dangerous.
To him.
Not dangerous to him.
More like… intensely protective.
Deadpool's thumb kept up the gently slide over his cheek and the mercenary leaned closer.
"You took your time," he whispered, then rested his forehead briefly against Peter's. "Too long."
"Had no say in it," he replied just as softly.
His body felt like a live wire, energy coursing through him, thrumming through his mind, making him want, need, hunger. It wasn't the boiling mass of darkness that was the chimera, but it was equally powerful and it was what kept the preternatural so balanced.
"The first time is normally the quickest." The quip sounded almost forced.
His voice still sounded completely off. Too rough, like it should hurt with every syllable, like he was chewing glass and spitting nails.
Peter raised a hand, feeling no broken bones grating, no pain at all. He curled his fingers around Wade's wrist, felt the anchor take effect.
"All still attached?" he asked in a low voice.
"Yeah. All. I checked." Deadpool smiled a little. "You look just perfect, baby boy." The last was said in an almost-whisper. "Perfect."
"I'm at the Avengers'?"
"Yes."
"Have you killed anyone yet?"
"No, Deadpool has been a good boy."
Peter raised an eyebrow. He didn't feel like he had been gravely injured and died. Well, not just killed, eviscerated. Three quarters of his blood all over the ground. It was more like waking from a deep sleep after pulling forty-eight hours of studying with little sleep, too much coffee and some crime-fighting on the side.
Yes, Peter knew what that felt like. It had happened to him all too often in the past.
"Really," Deadpool insisted, sounding mock outraged. "My new motto in life: Be polite. Be courteous. Show professionalism. And have a plan to kill everyone in the room."
Peter had to laugh. "I'll remind you of the first two parts next time you're running your mouth off again."
"You do that," as the fond reply. "I might just get it printed. Make a motivational poster out of it. With a cat. Cats are the hype!"
"Can we leave?" the younger man changed the topic abruptly.
The chimera chuckled. "Let them try to stop us."
"Deadpool," came the warning.
Deadpool gave his mate the most innocent of looks.
Peter could feel the presence of the chimera, though muted, like it was under absolutely airtight control, not in danger of losing itself in violence and rage, and it had him breathe a little easier.
"Mr. Parker. Mr. Wilson."
Jarvis' voice was a jarring intrusion into the intimacy between them and Deadpool growled softly, almost animalistic, and there was a flash of silver behind the masked eyes.
"Hello, Jarvis," Peter said calmly. The hand still around Deadpool's wrist never loosened its hold.
"Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner politely request you let me and Dr. Banner examine you to make sure everything has healed," the AI continued, sounding almost hesitantly careful.
The growl became darker.
Peter kept holding on, through the bond and physically.
"I'm fine, Jarvis."
"This was your first regeneration," Jarvis replied. "No one knows whether your abilities mirror those of Mr. Wilson. You took longer to jumpstart and there might be complications."
Peter looked at the man at his bedside, the tension in the room like a living, breathing thing. Actually, it wasn't just tension. It was a flare of energy that was currently coursing through him as well, tidying up its work, making sure he was as fine as he proclaimed to be.
The chimera.
It was ready to break the flimsy human shell and fight its way out of the Tower if necessary.
"Wade," he murmured softly. "Stand down."
"You're fine," Deadpool hissed, the voice barely human. "No one needs to poke and prod you."
Not even a quip to that. Just lethally cold words, delivered matter-of-fact.
"I want to be sure."
The whole body seemed to heavy and shudder, fingers digging into the mattress of Peter's bed. Peter reached out along the bond with all he had and wrapped himself around the agitated preternatural, imitating what the chimera had done for him so many times before.
It finally rumbled, not happy, but it sat back.
The energy in the room dissipated like it had never been there.
"Jarvis? Give us a few more minutes, then I'm all game," Peter said.
"Understood."
SDSDSD
Tony stared at the readouts, tension in his frame, cursing under his breath.
"Language," Steve remarked gently, but the same tension reflected in his stance.
"Did you see those spikes? Not sure what it is, but I have a good guess! And it wouldn't have been pretty! Can a preter turn into a super? Could he actually shift into that thing he harbors?"
"The chimera isn't a separate entity, Tony."
"It could very well be!"
"It's primal instinct and it's an endless being."
"I can see that, Steven!" Tony spat, whirling around to look at the blond. "I'm very much aware of what he is! And that primal instinct was about to blow up in our faces!"
"If not for Peter."
Tony expelled a sharp breath, making it almost a laugh. "Yeah. No idea how he can weather that thing. The energy outpour alone was enough to warrant a bunker and a whole lot of luck. This is what we'd be dealing with in case Spider-Man dies."
"Right now he's alive." Steve clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "That's what I'm looking at. Not the what ifs."
"Yeah." Tony glanced at the readouts and shook his head. "Damn. Jarvis?" he addressed the AI.
"Yes, sir?"
"We'll be needing some privacy for the examination. Make sure the floor's secured. Just in case Deadpool decides to flip."
"Understood."
"Well, let's get this over with. You think we need to gear up?"
Steve squeezed his shoulder again. "No," he answered calmly. "They are our guests. Deadpool won't be a problem as long as we don't threaten Peter."
And no one had any intention to do that.
tbc...