Chapter Text
Wade is having the weirdest dream. Normally his nightmares consist of unpleasant re-runs of his time spent in Weapon X. But this one is jarringly different.
‘I know things have been difficult lately and I'm sorry about that.’ An omnipresent voice tells him. The voice is gentle, reassuring. ‘ I think I know what you're feeling.’
Wade watches an old man get shot in a carjacking. He isn't the one holding the gun, but Wade still feels a crushing sense of guilt. It’s overwhelming.
‘And if anyone's destined for greatness, it's you, son. You owe the world your gifts.’
The man falls to the floor in slow motion, on impact his blood spills out onto the sidewalks and Wade's vision starts to blur.
‘So, come on home, Peter. You're my hero... and I love you.’
Before Wade can process what's happening, he's suddenly flying through the air. It weirdly feels like the few times he's gotten a lift from Spider-Man. He lands on a rooftop and tries to continue running but his feet don't budge. He looks down to find his feet engulfed in a thick black goo which slowly climbs up his body. He thrashes and fights it, but it makes no difference. A glint of jagged teeth catches his eye before he's fully engulfed. A back seat driver as someone else pilots his body. The taste of blood on his lips.
Wade jolts awake, breathing hard and heavy. He instinctively brings his knees up to his chest and runs a hand through his hair.
'...Hair?' He mutters to himself, grabbing a handful of the fluffy mess on the top of his head. He tugs, wincing as the action pulls at his scalp. 'What the fuck?'
Wade jumps out of the bed, realising for the first time that he isn't in his apartment. It's dark, but he can make out the room perfectly. It's nothing like his bedroom. He stumbles towards a bathroom, unfamiliar eyes wide as he looks in the mirror.
He's younger, leaner, and more importantly; not scarred. There are still some marks, he's shirtless and if he peers closer Wade can make out faded scars crossing his chest.
He’s jolted out of his examination by a ringing phone. Feeling like he's still trapped in the dream, Wade snatches the phone up. 'Y'ello?'
'Oh thank god.' A weirdly familiar voice responds. 'Let me guess, you woke up in Queens in a different body?'
Wade gasps. 'I’m in Queens?!'
'How is that the most surprising part?' The man asks impatiently.
'I mean, I already knew about the body swap. This certainly ain't my mug.' He runs a hand through his hair, relishing the feeling after losing his so long ago. It's so fluffy and sticks up at ridiculous angles. Wade loves it. 'Who are you?'
'That's... Not important. Just wait there and I'll come sort this out.'
'... Are you in my body?'
'Of course. Where else would I be?’
Wade bites his lip. 'Wait there, I’ll come to you.'
'Why?'
‘If you're in my body, you get to deal with the scars. Everything hurts right?'
‘... Yeah' The voice admits after a moment's hesitation.
'Painkillers are in the top drawer of the bedside table. Pop some and just wait for me okay?’
‘Fine. Bring my backpack?’
‘Can do, congrats on the face btw. I’m a big fan.’ Wade says, taking one last look in the mirror.
The man on the phone groans, Wade can't tell if he's embarrassed or in pain. The scars can be a bitch like that. 'Just hurry?’
'You got it, Handsome.’
He pulls on a t-shirt with a science pun that he doesn't understand and grabs a pair of glasses. He finds that they don't do anything to change his vision, they just subtly tint everything a light shade of blue. Confused, he places them back on the counter.
As he exits the apartment, Wade idly wonders what kind of poor civilian has ended up in his wreck of a body. Context clues from his quick scan of the apartment tell him he's dealing with a nerd; textbooks and blue-prints litter the living room in a flurry of information. He also doesn’t have a lot of money if the shabby apartment and the clothes are any indication. Wade figures he should leave the guy some cash if they get switched back, least he could do after invading the poor guy's body.
With a cheerful bounce in his step, Wade ducks into a coffee shop. As weird as it is to be in someone else's skin, the lack of pain is astounding and not having White and Yellow snarking every thought means that Wade is more relaxed than he's been in years.
He searches through the jeans he pulled on, smiling when his hands find a wallet. He pulls out a few dollars, figuring that he can easily pay the guy back ten times over so it’s technically not theft.
He glances briefly at the ID tucked into the wallet. Peter Parker. A few years younger than Wade. ‘Virgo, huh?’ He mutters to himself as he tucks the ID away again. Behind it he finds an employee ID card, indicating that Mr Parker works at Oscorp. ‘Science nerd, nailed it.’
A man ahead of him collects his order, eyes lighting up in recognition when he spots Peter. ‘Hey Pete.’ He smiles brightly. ‘I’ll see you at the fundraiser tonight?’
‘The…um?’
The man laughs. ‘I knew you’d forget. It’s 7pm. Try not to be late, okay? I know you’re a busy guy, but this means a lot for the project.’
Wade just nods his head slightly in confirmation, not sure how Peter would act.
The man pats him on the shoulder firmly before heading to the door. ‘See you tonight Pete.’
While he waits for his order, Wade notices that the noise level of the cafe is unreasonably loud given that it has less than twenty patrons. Slowly, the noise increases until it’s an incessant, overwhelming jumble of noise.
Wade almost misses his order being called out. He quickly grabs the takeout cup and makes a quick escape from the cafe.
The noise only gets worse once he gets onto the sidewalk. His hearing seems to zero in on random noises, amplifying them over the din. A jingle of keys, the beeping of a horn, a cooing pigeon. Grip tight on the coffee cup, Wade pushes ahead, making his way back to his own apartment.
Wade really wishes he'd kept those stupid tinted glasses on now, everything is so much brighter than it normally his. He winces as Peter's phone starts to ring but relaxes minutely when he realises it’s his own number.
'Hey Petey-Pie, why is everything way too fuckin' loud?’ He groans.
'Ah, sorry my head is like that sometimes. Look, just grab the headphones out of the front pocket in my backpack and play some music. Anything works, you just want it loud enough to block everything out.'
'Your phone is locked.’ Wade points out, feeling exhausted.
Peter pauses a moment, considering. '....You promise not to go snooping?
'Cross my heart.' Wade tells him seriously.
'The code is 1-9-6-2.’
'Thanks Petey.’
'See you soon.’
Wade shoves the headphones in his ears and throws on the last playlist Peter was listening to.
He quietly chuckles to himself as he recognises the opening notes of a classic Kate Bush song. ‘What a nerd.’
‘And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God. And I'd get him to swap our places.’ He sings along as he makes his way to Bedford–Stuyvesant. ‘Be running up that road. Be running up that hill. Be running up that building.’
Peter was right. The music does help. The incessant noise fades away as he lets himself get lost in the music. After what feels like an eternity, Wade makes it to his own apartment building.
***
[Earlier…]
Peter is having the worst morning of his life. After waking from horrendous nightmares of constant torture, Peter wakes up to find his body screaming in pain. Every inch of his skin burns and his head is pounding. He squeezes his eyes tightly as he tries to make sense of the jumble of noise in his head. It’s nothing like his usual sensory overload. Instead it seems like two voices are embedded into his head, yammering away. When he opens his eyes he sees floating text boxes that seem to subtitle the voices.
[So where do you think Wade has disappeared too?] The White box asks.
[Don’t know but it’s a bit rude of him not to take us with him.] A Yellow box answers. [Would have been nice to have a vacation from this shitty body.]
‘Who are you?’ Peter grumbles blearily.
[Wade just calls us Yellow and White.]
[Pretty unimaginative of him, but it’ll do.]
‘Wade…?’ Peter tries to sit up. The name rings a bell. ‘...Wilson?’
[Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.] White chimes cheerfully. [Might want to look in a mirror, Newbie.]
Confused, Peter pushes the covers off and heads to the nearest bathroom. He grabs the sink in shock as he looks in the mirror, spotting the array of scarred flesh. ‘...I’m Deadpool, aren’t I?’ He asks the voices.
[Right again!]
Peter takes one last look at the mirror but then looks away, feeling weirdly like he’s taking advantage by looking at the reflection. He’s known Wade for years now, but he’s only ever caught brief glimpses of the other man's skin when they’ve been eating. To see so much of it when he knows Wade wouldn’t want him to just feels wrong.
‘Okay, okay…’ He mutters to himself. ‘Let be logical about this. If I’m in Wade's body. That must mean…’ He stumbles out of the bathroom, looking for Wade's phone. He grabs what looks to be a cheap burner phone from the counter and punches in his own number. ‘Oh, thank God.’ He sighs in relief when he hears his own voice pick up.
***
Wade opens the door, instantly spotting his Deadpool gear out in full display where he’d left it in a heap in the middle of the living room.
‘Ah… I can explain.’
His own body, still dressed in his Hello Kitty pyjamas, waves his explanation off. ‘I know. It’s fine.’ Peter tells him
Wade winces as his eyes skate over his own scarred face. God he looks horrible. ‘You’re Peter?’
‘I am.’
Wade's eyes narrow. ‘What do you mean, you know?’
Peter points to the Deadpool gear. ‘I know all about Deadpool. You don’t have to explain anything.’
‘Well that certainly makes things easier, if not a bit confusing.’
‘Any idea what happened to us?’ Peter asks, changing the subject.
Wade shakes his head. ‘Last thing I knew I was sleeping in my own bed. Then, poof, Queens.’
‘What about before that?’
‘I was helping the Avengers out with a mission? Some weird magician guy from Asgard.’
Peter blinks. ‘...Did you get hit with any magic?’
‘Yeah.’ Wade shrugs, remembering being trapped in a circle of red light. ‘But it didn’t do anything.’
Peter raises an eyebrow, gesturing between the two of them.
‘...Huh.’ Wade hums. ‘Why you though?’
‘I may have also been hit by crazy Asgardian magic during the fight.’ Peter admits, starting to pace across the floor.
‘Oof, unlucky.’ Wade says sympathetically.'We need to go see the Avengers, Petey. They'll know what to do.'
Peter sighs. ‘I was afraid of that.’ He groans, rubbing his face. Wade reflexively winces at the thought of Peter touching the scars. 'Look, I- …’ Peter looks over Wade's shoulder for a moment, eyes scanning as if he’s reading. ‘Dammit. Will you just let me think for a second?’
Wade's eyes go wide as he realises that Peter is talking to the boxes.
‘Thank you.’ Peter huffs indignantly, ‘Anyway, what I was trying to say was... You're right. But I can't go to the Avengers Tower looking like that.'
'What? I think I look great.’ Wade looks down to see if he spilled anything on the shirt or something.’
'No, I mean, I don't want Jarvis having access to what I look like. Last thing I need Is Mr Stark all up in my business as Peter Parker '
Wade tilts his head, not understanding.
‘You’re going to figure it out sooner or later.’ Peter sighs in frustration. 'Just… open the backpack.'
Wade pulls at the zip, eyes lighting up as he spots what's inside. 'Baby Boy.' He whispers reverently as he pulls out the Spider-Man suit.
Peter gives him an awkward smile. 'Hi Wade.'