Chapter Text
Peter Parker had no idea what to do... I mean what could he do? He didn't have any money. He was officially homeless. And not to mention his hundreds of scars really weren't helping.
Peter had just been kicked out of his apartment, due to him not being able to pay rent for the past 3 months, he was lucky to have even been given that long but he fucked up. Which resulted in him freezing cold, living out on the streets. It had only been two days and three nights but it was already awful. His stomach growled painfully, he really didn't want to have to eat food out of the trash but that may be his only option at this point. The young man let out a loud sigh, clutching his wrists, blood slowly trickling down into his palm. It was safe to say that he had been cutting himself a lot more then usual ever since he became homeless. It was a way for him to escape, to feel better, even if only for a few minutes. It was his release.
Then he felt an urge to finally do it. To finally return to Spider-Man, it was the only thing to fully distract him after all, I mean he didn't even have a job anymore, and so the smaller then usual boy quickly grabbed his bag of the very small belongings that he still had and immediately rushed to the closest public bathroom. Locking himself in the stall and converting back to the hero that he had abandoned for a good 5 days. The suit didn't seem as tight, most likely due to his lack of eating over the past week. A sigh escaped his swollen lips as he pushed the mask down, covering his recent bruises, to which he had achieved from accidentally "Stealing" another homeless person's spot, and rushed out of the bathroom, only to pull himself up onto a nearby roof.
It would be a lie to say he hadn't missed that.
The young spiderling got back to his old duties, saving as many people as he could, putting criminals in their places and of course just swinging around, finally feeling a slight sense of freedom. However it was interrupted, as Peter perched on the ledge of a rooftop he felt a familiar presence behind him, causing him to spin around to face the foul-mouthed merc. "Spidey! Been a while, I've been looking all over for that cute Spider butt but I just couldn't find you" the mercenary walked over to Peter, his arms up signalling for a hug but of course Peter stay put.
Wade fucking Wilson. Peter will admit, not out loud, that he did actually miss the merc, after all they had a pretty similar sense of humour along with their similar suits, although they didn't often bring that up.
"Oh, hey Wade" Peter let out a flat response, trying to cover up the fact that he had been living out on the streets for around three days now, he probably stunk now that he thought about it [Of course you stink, you always stink, it would explain the lack of friends in your life] "Soooo, are you going to tell me where you've been sweetums?" and it would've been safe to say that Peter's stomach sunk, why that question? Out of all questions... It really didn't help how bad Peter was at lying either, which meant he had to be extra careful. A small cough suddenly rised in the Spider's throat as he turned his head away from the intruding man. "I-I've just been busy okay?"
[Stupid Stutter] Was all he could think at that time, suddenly being jerked from his thoughts by the sudden masked face in front of him, causing him to stumble back, nearly toppling off of the rooftop, thankfully catching himself. [Probably should've fallen, it would've worked out better for you] Peter felt himself shrink under the influence of his thoughts and Deadpool towering over him, concern lacing his features through the mask.
"You don't sound so sure baby boy" the mercenarys voice sent shivers down his spine, an audible gulp formed from Peter's throat as he managed out another sentence "It's n-nothing Wade, it's not even a b-big deal so drop I-it" and the stutter didn't help his case at all. Wade grabbed the hero's chin, forcing Peter's eyes to look upon his mask "Pete... Don't lie to me, we've been best friends for 5 years now, I can tell when you're lying you idiot"
[You really are an idiot, a stupid, pathetic, lying idiot, do you understand why everything goes wrong for you now?]
Peter shuddered at the voice echoing in his head, feeling the tears sting at his eyes as they threatened to spill down his pale bruised face. Suddenly he felt a clothed hand pulling up his mask, and Peter froze, coming face to face with the scarred man who had also took off his own mask.
"Peter... What's with the bruise?"