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Sometimes, Wade is mean. Not to Peter Parker, but to Spider-Man. There's a reason Deadpool isn't your friendly neighborhood anything.
The mercenary always tries to present his best self around Spider-Man, and there's something to be said in that.
Peter guesses its fine.
Sometimes Spider-Man is mean too.
"He's dead, Pool."
They both take their problems out in fights. Peter needs to punch things, it's his release for emotions, and he thinks every vigilante does in one way or another, that's why they're not heroes. Not everyone can be the righteous Captain America.
He and Wade were the scum of the crop. They stuck together because two people just happened to put their gum in the same place under the desk. Daredevil right there next to them.
The only reason they – vigilantes like them – think they're better than the people they fight, is just because those guys are under a chair. Doesn't matter that they're all chewed up pieces of gum pressed into a surface and hidden away from the rest of society, they had to be better. It had to mean something that they were underneath the desk while others were underneath a chair. Because otherwise…
They're all getting scrapped off in the end anyways. Death was New York's janitor. That's who really cleaned the city if anyone bothered to notice. In that sense, he understands why Deadpool kills people, not that he agrees with it. It's not like he can really prevent it either.
Deadpool's gun is making the clicking noise that happens when you keep squeezing the trigger with no bullets. He had already been having a bad day, Peter doesn't know why, and then this guy had to piss Wade off further. Maybe he just didn't like his face, or something about his voice pressed buttons.
The clicking was pissing Peter off though.
"Pool."
Deadpool has more than one gun.
"Deadpool."
He can tell the Merc was somewhere in his own head. Deadpool was just a body doing stuff. Wade once said the point of his existence isn't to think, but to do.
Peter doesn't believe in the whole "we're actually characters in a story" thing. He'll humor it at times, but at the end of the day he finds no comfort in it. Peter's a control freak, he has to feel like he can do something about his own life and circumstances, not just follow whatever has already been written.
"Wade."
Peter's hand brushed against the Merc's arm and his Spider-Sense goes off. He acted quicker than he thought, something knee jerk.
The bullet went right through his palm. He should know better, really, than trying to catch a bullet let alone at almost point-blank range. He should have used webbing.
Deadpool hadn't even really aimed for him. He would have been fine, even with just human reaction time. It's everything else that messed him up. Wade didn't take into account Peter's different.
Deadpool's mask is blank, the change in expression too micro to notice and it isn't like him. He's still somewhere that isn't here.
"You're in a bad mood," Peter stated. He should be angry or in pain, but he chooses antagonistic.
"Oh yeah?" Wade chose it too. "Thanks for that grand display of genius level IQ."
He thinks it's unfair how Deadpool can handle Peter at his worse, but the same didn't apply the other way around.
Spider-Man has more patience with children than adults. Peter's worn thin with J.J.J. as it is. That's a bit of a problem. When Peter gets too comfortable around someone, he gets mean. Isn't it funny how the people he's most comfortable with are villains? How they know him more intimately and holistically than anyone in Peter's civilian life?
That's what they say isn't it? Victims of bullies and bullies are often one in the same.
Truth is, Peter deserved to get bullied in school. He was unpleasant and mean and deserved it. He had issues–has issues.
"No one left to take it out on, are you gonna kill me next?"
"Maybe I'll just fucking kill myself," Wade replied and he hasn't looked at Peter this whole conversation.
"Fine D.P. Do whatever you want."
"Red doesn't look good on you."
"Shut up." Peter wanted Wade to look at him. "I'm not that good Wade." To see him. "I've slipped up. I've killed people. And wanted even more dead."
"If they just died in your presence that doesn't count."
How messed up is it, that even when Wade's like this, he's looking out for Peter. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.
Peter needs to be surrounded by worse people. He wanted someone to treat him like that corpse Wade just unloaded a gun into.
In high school, he only had friends because people gave him a chance and stuck with him and decided he was good. But they were wrong and the world made them pay for it.
"It does if I could have saved them." Peter doesn't know why he softens then, but he does. "The gun, Wade."
People say Deadpool makes his problems everyone else's, and Peter thinks that's a little unfair. People said similar things about Harry, but Peter never gave up on him.
"God stop it," Wade said, "you're playing with my head."
"Wade," he tried, "do you want to hold my hand?"
The Merc pauses. Then addressing someone or something Peter wasn't privy to said:
"Can you leave us the fuck alone?"
Wade's still in a mood a couple days later, but definitely better. Peter's hand is wrapped and healing fine because it has to be. They're sitting across from each other in a taco place Wade chose that's completely empty apart from them. Probably because it's closing soon. Their orders are in between them, the serving sizes bigger than both of their heads combined. Their waitress is lingering, and it makes Peter nervous–as if he and Deadpool weren't both in their costumes.
Wade's unbothered and rambling about something, but there isn't the usual passion in his voice. It's like he's playing the same video on two laptops, one with the sound off and the other with the video off, and Wade's sync is off just slightly. Peter always gets so distracted when he can tell that whatever he is watching has been dubbed–and he can always tell.
Usually Wade is like playing a different sound in each ear, but it works because the stimulus matches; it sounds like walking. Left foot, right foot. In the middle of a conversation on either side of you, but the minute you stop turning your head from side to side you lose it because someone right in front of you wants to steal your attention. There's a lot going on when you talk to Wade, glimpsing into his every day. Imagine what it feels like to be him.
"What do they tell you?" Peter asked suddenly.
"What?"
"The voices. What do they say?"
It's probably unfair to constantly be comparing Wade and Harry to one another. Even if Wade doesn't know he's doing it.
"Whatever they want."
Peter shifts. Their legs are touching underneath the table, a consistent pressure on both sides. But his eyes flick to the waitress for a moment.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Peter asked.
"Sure," Wade replied. "The tab is already paid."
Peter just nodded because he didn't care enough to comment on that right now. The two of them gathered themselves quickly and leave after a couple pleasantries. Then Peter is tugging Wade down an alley.
"What do they say?" he asked again, settled in front of Wade again.
Wade let out a sigh.
"Things."
"Are they saying anything right now?"
A pause.
"They want to know if you're gay."
Peter laughed at that, then stopped when he saw something in Deadpool's posture.
"You want to know." Wade doesn't answer. "I'm not," Peter said. "It'd imply a lot of things that aren't true if I were."
"Okay," Wade responded.
Peter continued:
"But that doesn't mean-" He stopped, tried again. "I'm not straight either. Wade you have to understand I'm not… normal."
"Gay people are normal."
"That's not what I meant. I- I mean-" Peter let out a huff of breath. "Why do you care?"
"It's like you purposefully ignore that I'm in love with you."
"Because, Wade, you're not in love with me."
Peter's exasperated as if they have this conversation often–they don't. But it crops up now and again, and it's like driving a car straight into a wall.
"Why can't I be?"
Peter hesitated.
"I don't know. You're just- you're just not."
Wade likes Shiklah and Lady Death and not Peter because one of those things is not like the others. His infatuation with Spider-Man – Spider-Man – is probably now nothing more than inflating feelings of friendship. And Peter doesn't know how he'd get Wade to see that. For Wade to understand that this is real life, and sparks aren't going to fly when they kiss. That Peter can't fix what Wade thinks is broken in him.
And Wade can't fix Peter either.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to tell crazy people what they should and shouldn't think?"
"You're not crazy."
"You're still doing it."
Peter let out another breath.
"I don't know what you want me to say."
"I want you to stop fighting me."
"I'm not fighting you."
"What is this?"
"You fight me."
Whoever starts it aside, the two of them fight and make up like stitches ripping and healing broken bones. At some point, it has to end.
"Cuz you have the EQ of a tiger that just got its tail stepped on." Then, hissing past Peter: "No he doesn't hate just me."
"I don't hate you, but I don't love you either. I'm never going to love you. I don't want to love you."
Wade snapped his attention back to Peter.
"Cool. I don't believe you."
"Why not?"
"Cuz you don't believe me."
"This is different."
"Why?"
"Because you're-"
"Crazy right?"
"No Wade–"
"They're right about me, aren't they?"
"No, they're not I–"
"You don't want to accept what they say. Because you love me."
"No! Wade–"
"You–"
"You ruin everything Wade! I was trying! I was- I- I was- God, screw you! Why… why do you have to ruin everything?"
"I only take pages out of your books P," Wade said, after a blink.
Peter's mad in the way the emotion barely registers. It's not a kick and scream mad, it's a forming scowl and darkened eyes mad.
"I'm leaving," Peter said with enough hardness in his voice to scratch a diamond.
He stood and turned in one movement. Peter could be gone in a blink if he wanted to, but a part of him wanted to slow down. Like it'd hurt Wade more. Maybe it does.
"Why don't you ever kill me?" Wade called out from behind.
Peter doesn't turn to him when he responds.
"You don't deserve it."