The thing about testing his web shooters was that for proper testing to occur, he needed two things.
For one, he needs quite a bit of space. He didn't need to just check to make sure it could shoot a web, he needed to also make sure the fluid could support his weight. Which required him to be able to swing around a bit. Something that quite obviously required a large environment.
Secondly, he needed to not be seen. He didn't need people to see someone swinging around New York until he was under a mask.
The problem with these two requirements was that it would be very hard to find a place where they could coexist. His home wasn't big enough to swing, and outside where it was big enough didn't have privacy. It was too likely for him to be seen. One of them would have to give.
He could wait till night when there was less chance of someone seeing his face, though, it was Thursday. He was supposed to go to the bar early to train with Wade. By the time his shift was done he would be too tired.
But he didn't really have any other choices. He either didn't test them properly, risked getting seen or tested them after his shift. All in all it was a pretty obvious choice.
"Forgive me, future tired me," Peter thought to himself, "For I am pushing all my troubles onto you."
————
"So you're telling me that you got bitten by a spider, then you woke up and, BOOM, superpowers," Wade laughed as he made an explosion symbol with his hands as he spoke.
"A radioactive spider," Peter corrected as he took a few punches at the punching bag. He isn't holding back as much anymore. Before Wade knew about his powers—or even when he was getting beat in that alley—he held back his skill. He wasn't incompetent. After fighting in what was practically two wars, he knew how to stand his ground.
"From Oscorp?" He asks from his seat on the bench, leaning his chin on his fist.
"Yep."
"Damn, thats fucked up," Wade concludes, nodding to himself.
Peter let out a laugh, stopping his punches for a moment as he stopped the swinging punching bag with his hand, "Yeah, it kinda is I guess."
"Kinda? That's insane– turn your foot out," Wade corrected, pointing at one of Peter's feet. Peter made the correction and continued his punching, "That sounds like some shitty TV show premise."
"Oh yeah? What was the story of how you became unkillable again?" Peter counters, quirking his eyebrow at him.
"Touché," he agrees as he stands up from his spot on the bench. "Ok, enough of the bag, you're a lot better than I thought. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you're part of some underground fight club, not just an illegal bar."
"Am I going to show you my powers or not?" Peter asked in a jokingly annoyed tone, he began to walk to the middle of the mat on the other side of the room.
"Ok spider boy, show me what the radioactive insect–"
"Arachnid"
"–arachnid gave you. I know you got super strength and accelerated healing, what else? Let me guess, you're hiding some extra arms. You spin webs?" Wade guessed.
Shaking his head, Peter walked over to the side of the room. He lightly placed his fingertips to the rough wall and looked it up and down. Whispering to himself he said:
"Something like that."
With a hint of childish courage, Peter looked Wade dead in the eye, straight faced, as he removed his feet from the floor and easily stuck to the wall on all fours. Wade's eyes widened as Peter stayed there, his mouth falling open. Clearly surprised by his power. With a smirk, Peter starts to crawl around the wall before going onto the roof and hanging there for a moment before flipping to the ground and landing gracefully on his feet.
Wade stared at him, speechless, so Peter simply bowed jokingly and waited for Wade to speak. He was silent for a few moments and Peter felt himself feeling more awkward by the second. His hands fidgeted as he waited for his "teacher" to respond.
"YOU WERE ON THE CEILING!" Wade yelled, pointing with both hands.
"How is that a big deal? We live in a world where people from the 40s are alive and Gods exist. How is this what surprises you?!" Peter asked.
"I was joking about the extra arms! I thought you were just going to be strong and that's it!" Wade said, obviously still processing what he had seen.
"Do you want to see the rest, or are you going to keep freaking out about me sticking to things?" Peter asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Without a moment's hesitation he responded "I'm going to keep freaking out about the stickiness, how do you even-".
Wade made his way over to where Peter was standing and looked at his hands. He muttered to himself as he did so, but Peter only picked up a few words.
"How on Stan Lee's earth–"
"He's STICKY–"
"How–"
"Why–"
Eventually, Wade seemed to just accept it, his muttering stopped and he dropped Peter's hands and with a sigh said:
"I have decided to not question the stickiness."
Peter could only laugh and asked if he wished to see it again. To which Wade quickly agreed. They spent the next hour with Peter explaining and demonstrating his different powers. Though he "accidentally" left out the fact that he had an accelerated metabolism.
Wade seemed most interested in his "spider-sense". In the end, the two spent almost 15 minutes with the mercenary just throwing different objects at Peter, who had his eyes closed and was facing the wall, and seeing if he could catch them. Of course, he caught them all.
It wasn't long until Peter had demonstrated and explained all of his powers. Though Wade still held a look of confusion on his face.
"What?" Peter asked as he took the wrapping off his hand from using the punching bag earlier.
"You can do all that," Wade began, "and you still got beat up?"
Peter froze for a moment, he had hoped Wade wouldn't bring it up. He was wrong. Taking in a shaky breath, he answered.
"Yeah. I didn't want to hurt them. Sometimes, I have all this strength and I can't control it. Even if they are beating me up, I don't want to accidentally break their nose."
"Even if they break yours?" Wade questioned, looking Peter in the eye.
"I don't believe in an eye for an eye. Look, if I hurt people because they hurt me, that makes me just as bad as them. If I lose my moral code, then I will have nothing. If I have nothing but my moral code, then I have more than most people. I don't want to hurt people, I want to help them." Peter concluded, hanging his head and sitting next to Wade on the bench.
"You'll find it hard to help people if you're dead in a ditch," Wade replied. "Look, you're strong, you're smart, you have a good heart. Now you just need to learn to put your health higher up on your priorities list. You're gonna be a good hero, better than those shit-heads in Avengers tower. You're gonna help people, more than they ever could."
Peter didn't speak, he just stared at the ground. The situation reminded him of the conversation he had with Mr. Stark all those years ago. Eventually Wade sighed and put his arm around Peter's shoulder.
"Talk to me after your shift, I have something to show you," Wade said instead, standing up from his seat.
Peter nodded numbly and made his way over to the bar where Weasel was waiting for them.
————-
His shift went by in a haze of sameness he had become so accustomed to.
Pour a drink.
Serve it.
Clean the bench.
Repeat.
Peter guessed this was just what having a job was. Besides, it got him money, that was all that mattered. The hours passed slowly before Weasel came up to Peter and told him he could clock off. Peter almost left before he remembered he needed to talk to Wade.
Walking over to the man, Peter asked what he needed to talk about. The mercenary wordlessly handed over a backpack, Peter could feel there was something inside but before he could open in Wade added:
"Not here, open it when you get home."
"Okay," Peter replied slowly, unsure of what to say.
Before he turned to walk away Wade asked, "Out of curiosity, what is your hero name going to be?"
"Spider-Man," Peter replied easily.
Wade made a face as he said, "Really?"
"Yeah," Peter said, "Spider-Man."
After waving goodbye, Peter left the bar. When he began to walk outside into the cold, moonlit night, he opened the backpack to see what was inside.
A suit.
Wade had got him a suit.
Looking around to make sure no one saw, Peter all but ran home to look at it properly, completely forgetting he was going to test his web shooters. As soon as he climbed through his broken window he ripped the suit out from his backpack to take a paper look at it.
He stared down at the suit in his hands, it was perfect. It looked almost exactly like the one he used to have, though that was likely because he had drawn his old suit when Wade asked.
He could be Spider-Man.
Peter cursed himself for not testing his web shooters on his way home. He could now, but he really just wanted to get back in the suit. Throwing safety to the wind, he changed into his new suit, complete with web shooters.
Even just being in the suit made him feel at peace, it was different, but the same. Then again so was he. So, he guessed it was perfect.
Peter carefully made his way up to the roof of his home and stared out onto the city.
With great power comes great responsibility.
His uncle's words rung in his ear, silencing the sound of cars driving past and filling his head with just one thought.
"It's time to get to work."
Peter reached out his arm and shot a web onto a nearby building, taking a deep breath, and jumped.
That was the night Spider-Man returned.