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Spider-Man did not kill.
Spider-Man did not kill.
But Peter Parker? Peter Parker did not bear any such restriction.
Why, you may ask, is he in such a state of pure rage and sorrow? What brought on such emotions that drove him to near hysterics?
Well in order to understand this turn of events, one must be introduced to Twinkle, more officially, Lord Twinkle the First. Peter’s much beloved pen that produced such beautiful sparkly, glittery red ink, that never gave anything but smooth lines, clean lines. Peter saved this masterpiece of craftsmanship for only the most important occasions. On the day to day, Twinkle sat upon a shelf above Peter’s desk, regally propped upon his singular pen stand, awaiting potential use. Gracing Peter with his elegant presence, regardless. Twinkle was a source of joy for the vigilante, a constant in his unconstant existence.
So, when Peter came home after a long day of college classes, he expected the pen he so adored to be in its rightful place. Yes, he prepared himself to smile at Lord Twinkle in appreciation, to bask in his presence and feel content to be near the magnificence that was Twinkle.
Except.
Except.
Twinkle, the Lord and Savior of Peter’s Sanity, his beloved, was gone.
And, Peter? Peter didn't even bother tearing his apartment apart like he so wanted. It was futile, he knew. And his energy was much better spent tearing apart Twinkle's captor.
Wade Wilson.
It was no coincidence that Twinkle was missing after Wade stopped by the night before. He had taken one look at Twinkle and it was over. Wade had spent the night attempting to grab the pen from its holder the moment he heard Twinkle had a name, the moment he heard the reason why Peter adored the pen so. Peter had fended him off valiantly and thought that was the end of it. Foolish, he was, to think that Wade would drop it. Wade had never dropped anything in his life. The moment something captured his attention, he locked in, not stopping until he held it within his grasp. And now, Twinkle is gone. And Peter Parker? He was well aware that his former friend’s whole schtick was being impossible to put down permanently. But, Wade’s abilities hadn't yet had the pleasure of an introduction to Peter’s rage.
o0o
Wade giggled as he finished the teeny tiny bowtie he had fashioned for his new friend. He was quite proud of himself, sneaking into Pete's apartment all quiet after he left for his morning classes. The moment he learned of Twinkle, he was thoroughly enamored and had to have him.
Now, sequestered in his safehouse and safely away from any potential retribution of a certain spider, he fashioned a throne for the pen. Twinkle lay regally upon his cleanest, softest pillow, surrounded by offering of Skittles and jerky (it was the only thing he had on hand, okay?! He planned on making a trip to the bodega a few blocks down soon). Truly a set-up worthy of a king, if he did say so himself.
A tapping drew his attention to the window and to the little devil he knew behind it.
“DD!” he squealed, running over and granting the man entry. “Whatcha doin’ here? Not that I’m not totes happy to see ya, but you never just stop by! GASP! Is this a devilish booty-”
“Peter text me. Said you stole something from him.” Daredevil interrupted.
Wade giggled and skipped over to his tiny king. He struck a dramatic pose in presentation: knees slightly bent, arms out, one higher than the other. Matt made no move to advance further in the room, opting to stand imposingly with his arms crossed, looking more like a father battling between silent and verbal disappointment.
“Look at my new baby!” Wade squealed.
Matt gave him a look. Wade could physically feel the eyebrow raised, the unimpressed gaze. Which was impressive considering his signature horned helmet remained in place, and you know, he was blind.
“Heh, oops. I mean…don’t you have that whole echolocation thing going on? Like a bat? You know, if you ever want to rebrand, you could totes pull off Batman!” Now he began to advance, stalking forward and snapping his fingers to send sound bouncing through the room. Wade threw his hands up. “Hey now, we can talk about this! You know, if you could see it, you would get it! Twinkle is gorgeous!”
The Devil paused, “Twinkle?”
Wade nodded emphatically, his suit creaking slightly at the movement. “Yup!” He turned then, reaching for his bowtied, fancy fellow. “Peter called him Lord Twin-”
A sudden sharp pain on the back of his head had him falling to the ground, arm outstretched towards his inky charge. And as the world went fuzzy and spots began to take over his vision, Wade watched as Daredevil gingerly lifted Twinkle from his fluffy throne.
o0o
Matt Murdock was a mature man. So when he received an enraged text from the youngest member of the boyband that was Team Red, he set out to figure out what, exactly, had prompted the threats of murder towards their resident mercenary. Did he plan on getting in the murderous path of the vengeful demon that was Peter Parker? No. His name and nightly hobbies may allude to otherwise but he wasn't suicidal. Wade Wilson was a dead man as far as Matt was concerned, and he wasn't touching Peter’s warpath with a ten-foot pole. That didn't mean he wasn't going to look at the crime itself, however, before happily stepping aside (and holding the door open) for the scourge of Deadpool.
What he hadn't accounted for was understanding. The moment he registered the small pen named Lord Twinkle, he had understood Wade’s fascination, his need to have it.
One potential TBI later, and Matt was flying across the rooftops back to the Kitchen, pen tucked safely away.
As his feet hit familiar roofs, he began to relax slightly. If Peter was a warpath , Matt had just become another name on his hitlist. He was safer in the Kitchen, he knew these streets better than anyone. He knew he couldn't hold onto his precious for long, but by God he was going to try.
He made it home without incident. He slipped inside his silent apartment - no…not silent. A familiar heartbeat echoed through the space between him and Peter. Not Spider-Man, no, he wasn't Spider-Man when he was this angry, Matt knew. He was perched on one of the chairs in the living room, comfortable, relaxed. A facade.
“Hiya Matty.” His voice, normally colored with sarcastic wit and quipping like his life depended on it, was cool and flat. Matt would never admit the goosebumps that erupted on his skin. This was Peter, he reminded himself. Peter, who once launched himself off a building to catch a french fry. Peter, who, despite his namesake, was terrified of spiders. “Oh, I’m sorry, look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn't have an aversion after one bit you and left you bedridden for a week while your very DNA got rewritten?” Peter, who was on a path of vengeance after his much adored pen was callously ripped from his grasp. His beloved that Matt held safely on his person.
“Peter.”
“Little early to end patrol. Too few injuries too.”
“I would think you would be paying a visit to Wade, not me.”
He hummed, “You know, I was headed that way when I saw the most interesting thing.”
“Oh?”
“A little red devil. Running away a little fast to have been innocently paying a visit.”
Matt stood very still, body tensed, ready. He was right to be on guard.
In a flash, Peter launched himself off the chair, bouncing off the walls and at Matt. Matt dodged, grabbing Peter’s arm midair and throwing him against a wall. Peter stuck his feet to the wall and threw his weight forward, flipping himself and Matt to the ground.
Matt felt a burst of pride for a moment - he had helped Peter practice that move.
Matt mentally smacked himself. That was being used against him now.
They rolled on the ground, switching who was sitting on who until Peter flipped Matt over mid-roll, leaving him on his stomach and Peter sitting on his back, trapping Matt when he stuck his feet to the floor. Peter’s hands trailing lightning quickly across his suit, with Matt’s hands attempting to intercept Peter’s. It was futile in the end, as he felt Peter grab Twinkle and hold him up in victory.
Matt did not whine from below him. “Oh come on, Pete. We can share custody.”
“My Twinkle. Not yours, not Wade’s, mine.” he hissed in reply, and got up off Matt to walk out the door.
Matt groaned in defeat, and chose to stay put where he was. Face pressed to the floor as he mourned his loss.
o0o
Peter knew this wasn't over. Finding Wade unconscious, knocked out in his current safehouse, and seeing Matt taking off from said safehouse looking like the cat who stole the cream, he realized no one was safe. Twinkle wasn't safe.
He had spared Matt a beat down. Peter couldn't blame him for falling under Twinkle’s spell. Matt had taken Twinkle with good intentions. Wade, however…
Peter glared at the tiny bow that defiled Twinkle. He hated it (it was adorable), it was insulting.
Peter hadn't let go of the pen for a moment since he retrieved it the night before, Twinkle wasn't leaving his sight again. Now, as he left the library, bag heavy with rented textbooks (it was hanging on by a thread, but Peter couldn't bring himself to buy a new one, no matter how many times Matt and Wade offered), Twinkle sat safely at the bottom in his glasses case.
It was noon, and the traffic echoed that. There was nearly no free space on the sidewalk, and the college-yard was full of students in groups, eating lunch and chatting. Peter weaved through bodies with an expert ease, gripping the strap of his bag tightly. He kept his eyes peeled. He didn't expect either of his idiots to jump him in broad daylight, definitely not at his school, not in his civvies, but he wasn't about to get caught with his pants down.
Right now, Peter was mentally cataloging his plans for the weekend ahead. He had two essays to get in, a few readings to summarize and take notes on, and, of course, patrol. He didn’t patrol with Team Red nightly, and while they did get together pretty often, both in and out of mask, Spider-Man was a solo act a good 60% of the time. Especially right now, locked in a civil war as he was.
He exited campus and headed deeper into the city proper as he crossed the street. First, he is going to grab some food. Mexican sounded nice.
Peter barely finished the thought as he was suddenly yanked into a dark alley. His back slammed into the hard wall of a building, and before he could cry out, a hand slapped over his mouth. “Ah, ah, ah, not a sound sweetheart, unless you want someone to get hurt.” Peter's eyes focused quickly, but even if they hadn't, Peter knew that voice, maybe better than he knew own at this point. Wade motherfucking WIlson. Kidnapper, betrayer, dumbass, a third of his former best friend trio. “And the person getting hurt would be me. Emotionally. Because why would you ever try to escape me?”
Peter glared daggers at the masked merc. Way to make a liar out of him. If Wade wasn't on his shitlist before, he just cemented himself at number one. Peter bit down on his hand, hard. Deadpool shrieked, waving his hand dramatically and blowing on it. “Owchies, Webs! I just wanna talk!” Peter made to leave.
“I got nothin’ to say to you, kidnapper.” He slipped past the merc, making for the street.
“Ah, well, I suppose you won't care, then, if I borrow this?” Peter's blood ran cold as he whipped around. Wade held Twinkle up in triumph, and Peter could see him grinning through that mask of his.
“Twinkle Snatcher!” Peter snarled and launched himself at Deadpool, missing him by mere inches as he jumped back. Pool whipped around and quickly scaled the fireescape. Peter grit his teeth. He couldn't chase after him, not in broad daylight. And considering he was keeping Spider-Man out of this, he had to be patient. He knew every one of Pool’s safehouses in New York, he was more than happy to track him down again.
But…No, tracking down Wade and Matt hadn't worked before. It just continued the cycle of kidnapping. He had to make a new plan. A better plan. Peter glared at the now vacant fire escape as he thought. A devious smile split his face as a lightbulb lit in his mind, and he adjusted his bag up his shoulder.
Stay strong, Twinkle, he’ll bring you home soon.
o0o
Wade was mid jump when Daredevil crashed into him midair. They tumbled onto a rooftop, just outside the Kitchen. Almost in sync, Deadpool and Daredevil rolled apart and quickly stood, facing each other. “Goodness, I can almost hear the cowboy standoff music! I wonder what can be our tumbleweed? Maybe that plastic bag?” Pool giggled out playfully, but his body remained poised to strike, watching the vigilante across from him like a hawk.
Daredevil didn’t say a word, only growling as he circled. Wade slipped Twinkle into a pouch on his belt as he mirrored him. They were locked in a silent stand off, circling each other like predators.
Deadpool made the first move, whipping out Bea and Arthur and slashing towards Daredevil, who immediately blocked with his billy club. They traded blows back and forth. Slash, block, clang, slash, block, clang. Over and over again, until Daredevil feigned left, waiting until Deadpool took the bait before he swiped out his legs. Deadpool slammed down onto the roof, swords falling next to him. Daredevil kicked them away and grabbed at the merc’s belt, unclipping it swiftly and leaping away before he could get up.
“Hey! You little red gremlin-looking thief! Give that back!” Deadpool cried.
Daredevil smirked and danced past Deadpool's grabby hands, unzipping the pocket with Twinkle and lifting the pen out before tossing the belt back to the merc, penless and sad. “Here.”
Deadpool caught his belt and clipped it back on, a frown on his face so pronounced it showed on his mask. “You fucking brat. Give me Twinkle.” he growled, making to leap back into a brawl.
Daredevil smacked on the head with his club, using the resulting stumble and cry of “Not my fucking head again! What is with you, huh, Double D?” to jump across to the roof next door. He ran towards the Kitchen, hearing Deadpool sheath his katanas and take off after him.
The two ran another few blocks, now in the heart of the Devil’s territory. Wade knew the deeper they went, the more likely he was to lose the mangy devil, so, in a last ditch resort, he pushed to go faster and launched himself at Matt, catching his legs mid stride, and sending them sprawling together once more. Wade landed on Matt’s stomach with a grunt
“Gotcha know, Red! Now gimme-”
Something slammed into Deadpool's side, cutting him off, and he rolled off the roof, catching himself on the ledge. He dangled for a second before pulling himself back up. “What the hell?” He had assumed Webs wasn't going to get involved in-mask, and he certainly wouldn't risk being seen in skirmish with a vigilante and a mercenary in civvies.
It wasn't the resident Web-Head.
His eyes went comically wide at the sight of Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, standing between the two vigilantes with one of his guns drawn on Wade and one foot one Matt’s chest, looking for all the world like he would rather be anywhere else. Why the hell was he here?
“What are you dumbfucks doing?” he sighed.
“I will have you know we are fighting for the honor of Lord Twinkle, so if you wouldn't mind kindly fucking off back to wherever you came from, I would be most grateful.” Wade replied, reaching for his own guns. Castle was both predictable and unpredictable, and right now his intervening placed him solely in the latter category. He didn't get involved with this kinda shit. Did they interrupt him napping or something?
Matt groaned out his own “What the hell, Frank?” before Castle crouched low, never taking his eyes or gun from Wade’s form. It would almost be a compliment if he wasn't so confused. And then.
And then.
Castle grabbed the goddamn pen.
Wade could hear Twinkle’s sobs as he was lifted up and spun between Castle’s fingers. “This? Are you fucking serious?” Matt let out a whine as he reached up to futilely try and grab at the beauty that was Twinkle. Frank looked down incredulously before sighing and turning to face the opposite side of the roof. “This what you wanted, kid?”
Motherfucking Canada. No way. He did not.
He did.
Peter Parker sat atop the roof access point, grinning like the little shitfucking bastard he was. “Yes, sir!” Frank tossed the pen over to Peter, electing gasps of shock and fear from the vigilantes still held captive, each making an aborted move to catch him. Peter caught Twinkle and that stupid smug grin seemed to grow wider. “Thanks, Uncle Frank!”
Castle rolled his eyes, and with one kick to Matt’s side for good measure, he moved away from him and holstered his gun. “C’mon,” he growled out at Peter making his way to the access door.
“Can we get burgers?” Peter asked, looking down at the behemoth of a man entering the door between his legs. The Punisher only grunted and disappeared down the stairwell. Peter glanced up at the two still frozen on the rooftop.
Wade was still a statue of shock and betrayal, Matt was laying on his back, face to the sky, much in the same state. Peter raised an eyebrow that practically begged them to try this shit again as he slipped Twinkle (who still wore the tiny bowtie) into his shirt pocket. He zipped up his jacket, hiding the tiny god behind cloth and pushed off the roof, following after Castle, offering one last smug ass look as he went.
“He really went and cried about Twinkle to the Punisher?!”