Chapter 3: The More You Know

Peter's thoughts were consumed with Wade; the dance, the small connection they shared. His name. He sighed, not contently but with resign. Maybe this guy wasn't that bad after all. He smiled slightly and just pointed his shooters in random directions, not paying attention to where they landed and completely forgetting he was headed home. Soon he found himself in a different part of the city, and he realized that his thoughts had gotten him lost. The area was dark, dank, and smelly. Peter frowned deeply and landed atop a convenience store. "Crap… where am I?" He muttered. There were a surprising lack of people out and about, maybe because of the dark? Peter jumped off the top and landed at the doors of the store to check the time. Before he could enter the building however, an almost inhuman cry from the alley next to him sent his spider-senses berserk. "Hey!" Peter yelled and sprinted to the alleyway, a chill creeping up his spine. That scream did not sound okay- not even human. "Is everything okay in here- what the hell!?" Peter gasped in shock.

Hidden in shadow there were two figures, one was writhing and foaming at the mouth whilst lying on the ground. The other was standing above the first; a fat, dripping syringe was imbedded in their neck. It glowed a strange neon green. "What the heck is going on here!?" Peter shot a web at the one holding the syringe, but the person dodged out of the way swiftly and ran past him. He shot out his hand to try and at grab their ankle, but they simply darted out of his reach. Peter felt a slight prick in his left bicep as the person flew past.

"It's too late, hero. The first test has begun, and you can't stop it from spreading the whole world over!" It was a woman, but her voice was sandy as if someone had poured gravel down her vocal chords. "Now let's see if it'll work on you!" Peter was left gaping as she vanished suddenly. He was frozen in place and his left arm began to throb dully.

"Work on me…?" Peter narrowed his eyes at the spot she was just in. A groan from behind him brought him back to his senses as Peter turned swiftly to help the other up. "Hey, everything's gonna be okay, I'll get you to a hospital real quick." He spoke gently despite his pain. As he looked closer, the figure was a young woman. But she just groaned and squirmed, frothing violently. Soon her voice began to sound pained and garbled. "Hey hon. Are you alright-" He cried out as the girl tackled him and threw him on his back. It took a lot to knock down Spider-Man, and this girl had to have been only seventeen. She growled and squeezed his throat tightly as Peter desperately tried to shove her off, all while black dots began to dot his vision. Her eyes were rimmed with a strange black ooze, dripping onto Peter's mask.

"Radiation… h-help… meeee…" The girl wheezed as she gripped his neck tighter. Peter hacked and coughed but now he could barely see as the girl released her grip and fell dead right on his chest. He heaved. Disgusted and shaking with fear, Peter shoved the girl off of him and rolled on his side as he coughed some more.

"Aagh… what the fu-" His sight eventually returned as he glimpsed at the girl's face; it was withered. What was possibly once pure skin was now grey and flaky, along with her arms and other exposed areas. Her eyes glowed menacingly, but without life and the black ooze continued to slither down her hollow cheeks. Peter panted as he pushed himself away from the girl, as she seemed to be evaporating now. A sudden sharp pain fired itself up his arm and he grunted as he held it tightly. Realization struck when he discovered that the same sort of- radioactivity that was injected into the girl had nicked his arm. "Shit!" Whispered Peter as he used his uninjured arm to fire a web away from the dead girl. It was against his morals, but Peter was far more concerned with the growing nausea and the pounding in his head.

Peter swung through the wide window of Stark Tower on the very top floor where his room was located. He almost literally fell onto the polished floor and groaned as he lay there. "Ugh… do NOT feel good right now." Peter's head hung low as he crawled to his large bed and flopped down on it face first. He grunted when a light came shining in through his open door.

"Peter? Dear God, are you okay?" His father Steve walked through the opening and sat next to Peter on the bed. His voice was laced with worry. "What have you been up to 'till now? Your father and I have been worried sick. It's 5:30, you have work in four hours." Steve rubbed his son's still suited back.

"I uh… bank robbery. Really tired." Peter rolled so that he was facing his father and he tugged the mask off, hiding the black ooze. He grinned. Steve's expression softened slightly as he smiled at his son.

"Just get some sleep, okay kiddo? You need to pay more attention during debriefings and such. Speaking of concentration, Deadpool was muttering something about spiders and how adorable they are when I went to speak with him. He was completely out of it. You don't happen to know what he was talking about do you?" Steve asked and immediately Peter's cheeks heated up and he scrunched his nose.

"Eh, nope." He lied. Damnit Wade. His father sighed as he stood up and planted a kiss on Peter's forehead.

"Pete, are you okay? You look kind of sick."

"Uh, nah. Just really tired, robbers had guns." He lied again. He couldn't get his parents worried, they were troubled enough.

"Alright son. Go to bed now, don't want you to be tired later." Steve waved and walked out of Peter's large room, voice commanding the doors shut. Peter lay there alone in the semi-darkness, only the moon lit up the place as the light from outside his door clicked off. He hit his head back on the bed as he shut his eyes tight and winced. Peter lifted his left arm slowly and examined the cut; luckily it wasn't a gaping hole like in the girl's neck, but it still hurt like hell. He closed his eyes again and sighed.

"Geez, I am NOT okay right now." Peter grimaced.

"Radiation… h-help… meeee…" The girl's last words rang in his ears.

"Radiation…?" Peter's eyes shot open. "Radiation…" He groaned as he pushed himself up on his elbows. His eyes wandered the city lights outside, deep in thought. "What's going on that I don't know?" Peter stood up and treated his arm and neck silently, though his brows scrunched together whenever another wave of pain surged through. A large purple bruise wormed its way around his slender throat. After that he changed to his sleepwear as he sat at his large glass desk, pulling out a pencil and paper. He also flipped through his old high-school science books and switched on his computer; writing down everything that had to do with radiation. The girl had died within minutes, just thinking about those terrible dripping eyes and flaky skin sent goose bumps crawling over his neck. If she had died so fast, how come…

"…How come I'm still alive?" Peter rubbed his forehead, exasperated as the sun began to rise.

Work was painful yet again. Jameson was flaming Spider-Man, and Peter had to print pictures of himself for the paper. Through the day his arm still throbbed and his neck still ached, though the bruise was long gone. His mind was filled with the nagging thought of him; but in the same state of that girl. Wheezing, dying, and completely mindless. It put him in a rotten mood. As soon as Jameson allowed him to leave the building, he made a straight beeline home through the summer heat. The pain was weakening quickly, but he still couldn't swing away with both his arms just yet even with the web-shooters always attached to his wrists. Peter rushed out of the elevator and proceeded to run back to his room, gaining strange looks from agents as he also gripped his arm tightly.

Peter commanded JARVIS to lock his door as he plopped down right at his desk. He took a deep breath, he could barely concentrate with how nervous he was. "C'mon, Pete. Get yourself together." He shook his arms out and was about to click his computer on until a bloodcurdling scream made him jolt upwards in surprise. "What the hell?" The sound came from outside. Peter hurriedly ran over to his window and looked around, the sun glinting in his eyes. Nothing? A tap from above his head proved his suspicions were wrong. Very wrong.

"Uh yes, young man. Please open your window I am about to become street pizza."

"You. Have. Got. To be joking." Peter mouthed as he looked up to see Wade; upside-down and wearing a jetpack that was sputtering and smoking up.

"Yes, hello, I AM ABOUT TO DIE." Wade knocked desperately on his window. But we can't die. Nerd kid doesn't know that. Still a REALLY long fall! He screamed in terror as he began to slip down, his gloves not offering much traction anymore. Yet in the split second before Wade could succumb to gravity, Peter flipped the latch, shoved the window open and grasped Wade's hand with his uninjured one just as he was falling. He slid slightly at Wade's weight pulling him out. "HOLY CRAP!" Wade yelled. Dayumm, this kid be strong! A little too strong. We're actually really heavy, with all our muscle mass and whatnot. Hey lookit, he's got muscle too! Glorious, beautiful, toned… And totally out of our league, probably. "Shut up, Spidey's the only one for me." Wade said to the voices. With relative ease, Peter ignored the comment as he hoisted the man up and into his room. It would have been much simpler if his left arm wasn't burning with pain as it had to support them both from falling a hundred floors down. Peter would have been fine with his web-shooters. Wade, not so much.

Both men grunted from the effort as the two of them rolled into the building. As soon as Wade was on solid ground he began blabbering in excitement as Peter got up to get back to his computer angrily. "Holy MOLY, that was epic. You see, little boy I don't know, this is why you NEVER borrow unfinished prototypes from Iron Stark. The author of this chapter really ran out of ideas this time," Wade laughed. "H-h-hey wait, you're just leaving me lying here."

"Sorry Wade, I've got a LOT of work to do and I have something potentially life threatening running in my bloodstream." Peter blurted, frustrated. Silence. He looked over at Wade, who was now glaring maliciously at him through his mask. Wait. SHIT.

"How do you know my name?" His fingertips brushed the handle of the gun strapped to his thigh, and Peter knew this man had the reflexes to shoot him just as fast as Spider-Man could dodge. He held his breath. "I only ever told a few people, and they're out fighting aliens in another galaxy right now. Except for…" Wade eyed the room; the floor, Peter, his computer… and his spider costume lying on his bed lazily. He gasped noisily. "Wait. SHIII-"