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“Oh! Hi, Deadpool! Did you just get back from… wherever it is you were?”
The mercenary’s excited stride towards Peter stuttered awkwardly. “Uh… yeah…” It was hard to tell with the mask on, but Deadpool seemed uncomfortable compared to his usual care-free self.
Peter frowned. “Everything okay, DP?”
“Yes!” His posture brightened. “I brought the kebabs!” Deadpool leapt to sit next to Peter on the building’s ledge as he unveiled the takeout container with a flourish. “As requested.”
Peter’s eyes lit up as he grabbed it, but he frowned in confusion. “When did I request kebabs?”
Deadpool looked at him, confused and uncharacteristically quiet. “You requested them yesterday, Spidey. You didn’t like the hotdogs I brought you, remember?” A hint of concern crept into the vigilante’s normally bright, lilting voice.
“Hotdogs? Why wouldn’t I like hotdo— wait. Yesterday?” He hadn’t seen Deadpool yesterda— Oh no. “Uhh right!” Peter fumbled as he opened the container, trying to act casual. “Yesterday…” He totally remembered that…
“You doin’ okay, Spidey? I didn’t think that mugger hit you that hard, but…”
Peter chuckled awkwardly. “Haha yeah…” He couldn’t remember a mugger hitting him either. “I’m just tired, DP. Don’t worry. Total brain fart! I’ve just got a lot going on lately…”
“Yeah…” Deadpool looked at him worriedly, apparently too concerned to even comment on Peter’s use of the word ‘fart.’ “I kinda thought something might be going on. You weren’t… acting like yourself yesterday.”
No kidding. “Haha. Sorry…” Peter lifted his mask to eat, hoping the conversation would turn to other topics if he just shut up and dug into his food.
“No problem!” Deadpool returned to his usual manic loud-mouthed self and started on an excited tangent about the adventures in Mexico. Apparently, he’d already told Peter about it all yesterday, but he’d forgotten to mention Guadalupe the talking Coati. And Guadalupe the talking Coati just completely makes the story, so he had to retell the story in its entirety to showcase Guadalupe’s very important single line.
Peter chuckled and listened to the story for the first time.
***
Peter tossed his mask across the room and crashed into bed. Groaning, he took his phone out of his suit’s hidden pocket and opened the Notes app. He cursed himself when he saw that there was an update he hadn’t noticed.
A- I’m not doing your physics homework for you. Also, why don’t you have any comfortable pants? How am I meant to live laugh love in these conditions? (4/21 3:37 PM)
P- Sorry. I just freaked out and couldn’t focus. I didn’t expect you to do it. Also, I bought some more sweatpants. It can’t get more comfortable than that. I know you have higher standards than me tho… (4/21 10.13 PM)
A- There was this guy in a red suit after you left me on patrol. His mask kinda looked like ours, but he had a LOT of weapons. I think he might be a friend of yours. He brought me three hotdogs (barf). He also tried to grab my butt!! PLEASE tell me you aren’t dating him? Does he do that often? Tell me if something happened or happens in the future. I REALLY don’t like the idea of anyone touching us like that. (5/7 11:58 PM)
Peter sighed. It would’ve been nice to know those two had met before he went patrolling with Deadpool tonight, but at least Deadpool had bought the excuse of them just being tired.
He responded to Ally.
P- Sorry. That’s Deadpool. He’s a mercenary who’s even crazier than us. He’s got schizophrenia, and I think he also has DID? He’s always at the front though. He just talks to his other alters. I haven’t told him about us. And don’t worry. He’s flirty with everyone, but he’s never taken things too far. He really hates sexual violence. I think he was molested as a kid too. He doesn’t know how young I am, but he’ll back off if you tell him to. (5/8 12.11 AM)
Peter sighed and put his phone on his charger. Deadpool had been acting weird at the beginning of the night, but clearly Al had reigned in his defensiveness if DP hadn’t been offended last night. That was good, but… maybe Peter should ban Ally from patrolling. He was just a kid, even if he did have Peter’s twenty-year-old body. Peter contemplated writing him another message, before rolling his eyes and getting up to get ready for bed instead. It wasn’t like he could control what the kid did anyway. Al didn’t let anyone walk all over him. Not anymore.
Peter blinked and paused in his dressing, as a memory tried to invade his mind. Luckily, it was no clearer to him than a dull fog, instead bringing Ally into his consciousness to bear it for him.
Hey. Peter said when his other alter had gotten settled, requesting he put on the new sweatpants Peter’d bought them. I saw Deadpool again tonight. That’s the guy you met with the red suit.
He could sense Ally’s displeasure, even as he donned the comfortable pajamas. Who is he?
Peter paused, trying to be careful with his answer. He didn’t want Al to try to take over and sabotage his friendship with Deadpool. You’ll see in the notes next time you look. He’s a mercenary. He’s… not exactly a good guy, but he’s not bad—just… complicated. He won’t hurt us, I promise.
He felt Ally start fading in his mind, not yet satisfied, but appeased enough to let Peter handle things. He sighed in relief. He didn’t need the angsty young teen’s drama right now. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to explain himself. He just wanted to sleep.
***
“Don’t forget your final is in just two weeks. Keep up with your studying. Al tried not to roll his eyes. Studying was all Peter was doing lately. Hence, Al’s presence in class, taking notes. It was unusual for Al to be at the front for so long, but Pete was too stressed from all the studying. All that time spent at the library reminded him of… Al shook his head and knocked himself in the temple a couple times. “Stop thinking about him,” he hissed under his breath.
He blinked as he looked up, realizing Peter’s classmates were looking at him funny. Oops. Oh well, it’s not like Peter had many friends anyway. Other than that Deadpool guy. Al really didn’t like whatever was going on there. If the dude ever tried to touch him again, he’d rip his arm off.
***
“Heya, Spidey!”
Albert flinched and whirled around, body tense, ready for a fight. He’d been forced to let the creep tag along during his last patrol, so he knew what a competent fighter he was. Deadpool might not have Al and Peter’s powers, but it never hurt to be cautious.
“What do you want, Pool?”
The weapon-clad man raised his arms in faux surrender. “Woah there, Spidey. I’m just sayin’ ‘hi.’ I come bearing gifts!” He held out a takeout bag.
Al narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the food was freed from his packaging. “Did you make that yourself?”
The mercenary blinked in surprise. “Yeah! How’d you guess?! I even put it in these fancy plastic containers that Chinese place uses.” The man examined his own food, as if trying to spot what gave it away.
Al rolled his eyes. “You spilled sauce on your suit while cooking, dumbass.”
An exaggerated gasp of shock came from the still masked mouth in front of him. “Well, aren’t you just a smarty-pants, Einstein.” Al’s heart rate picked up. “Er, wait no. Shit. I meant Sherlock! Einstein was a genius, but he wasn’t a detective. I shoulda said Sherlock. Gosh that’s embarrassing.” The man’s supposed embarrassment didn’t hinder him as he pulled his mask up and scarfed down the home-made chow-mein.
Al tried to relax. The man hadn’t meant anything by it. Albert was smart. Smarter than Peter even maybe. Einstein was a normal nickname. It was fine. Peter had promised the man next to him wouldn’t hurt him. He had promised that, right? Maybe not…
Al suddenly remembered the feel of the man’s gloved hand on his ass and shoved the food away. “Fuck you. Just leave me alone, you perv.”
He jumped off the roof and swung away, careful not to lead the suspicious man anywhere near where Peter hangs out.
***
“Hey, Spidey…”
Peter turned around. “Hey, Deadpool! I have plans for patrol tonight. There’s this guy who’s been causing trouble near 5th. Wanna join me?”
Deadpool’s already slow and cautious stride stopped. “Really? You’ll let me tag along?”
Peter frowned. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I? Have I ever turned down a patrol partner? Assuming you kept your weapons away,” he hurried to add. But Deadpool already knew the rules for patrolling with him.
“Uhh…” Deadpool tentatively walked closer to Peter, who was stretching out his back and hips, preparing for a long night of swinging. “You kinda turned me down last time. I’d never heard you curse before. I thought I’d done something wrong.”
Peter frowned. He’d been checking the note on his phone for messages from Ally before every patrol, just in case there was a repeat of last time, but his young alter hadn’t said anything. Deadpool must’ve just been confused. “You sure that wasn’t just one of the voices in your head?”
Deadpool, who had been slowly starting to relax, suddenly stiffened. “I don’t just hear random voices in my head. I have White Box and Yellow Box. They’re constant; they haven’t changed in years. It’s called DID. Look it up, you ableist shit.”
Woah. Peter had actually offended him. “That’s not how I meant it, DP. I know it’s your alters who talk to you. I just think… maybe it wasn’t as real as you think? Because I definitely didn’t curse at you.” Deadpool scoffed and crossed his arms like a toddler. Peter continued like he hadn’t noticed it. “Look, DP. I know you have DID. But you also have schizophrenia, right? That’s what I meant by ‘voices in your head.’ If I meant ‘alter,’ I would have said ‘alter.’”
Deadpool relaxed, just a bit. “I’m surprised you know they’re called that…”
Peter let himself roll his eyes behind the mask and continued. “So do you admit it’s a possibility you just hallucinated it?”
Deadpool stiffened again. “No! I know when something’s not real! This was real. My hallucinations are never realistic—they’re unicorns or talking animals or some other mystical shit. Even if it’s a person, it’s never realistic like this was; I can tell the difference, if I really think about it, which I have. This wasn’t a hallucination. Look!” he exclaimed. “I have the grease stains to prove it! You threw your chow mein at me!” He gestured to his red suit, which was unfortunately only immune to blood stains, not grease.
Peter indulged him and peered at the stain, still skeptical. He supposed it was possible Ally had forgotten to message him, but it really wasn’t like him to forget anything. Even if he wasn’t wicked smart, his memory was kinda his whole reason for existing; he remembered things so Peter didn’t have to.
“Are you sure it was me, though?” He reasoned with Deadpool. “If there’s a Spider-Man imposter around, I’d like to know about it.”
Deadpool huffed. “I don’t think anyone else can master that sexy little thing you do with your hips when you swing away.”
Peter blushed, resolutely deciding to never tell Ally that Deadpool had talked about him that way. He focused on the important part. The supposed imposter had swung away. “Nobody can recreate my web-fluid,” he muttered under his breath.
Deadpool heard him, despite his quiet tone. “Exactly! That’s also super sexy, by the way. Gotta love a guy with a big beautiful brain.”
Peter rolled his eyes. It must’ve been Al then, but why hadn’t he told Peter about it?
“Look, Spidey.” Deadpool’s voice was serious, and he reached out a gentle hand to rest on Peter’s arm. “There’ve been a few weird things happening lately. It seems like you’re having some gaps in your memory…”
Uh oh. Deadpool’s DID might manifest differently than Peter and Al’s, but he would definitely still know about the warning signs. Peter swallowed. Was it time he finally told someone? Aunt May knew, but he’d never told anyone else. He didn’t want anyone to ask about…
His brain went foggy.
***
Al blinked. The handsy mercenary was touching him again. “What the fuck?!” He jumped back. Why hadn’t Peter’s spidey-sense protected them?! Why did Peter immediately switch, instead of swatting the hand away? Had he really been so overwhelmed that he needed Al to deal with it?
“Woah, Spidey! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you. Just calm down.” The merc held his hands in front of himself placatingly.
“Calm down?!” Al shrieked incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you to leave me alone!”
Deadpool seemed to deflate in front of him. “You’re not… my Spidey, are you?”
“What the hell does that mean?” Al’s heart was going a mile a minute. This couldn’t be happening again. But it wasn’t, he reminded himself. He had superpowers now. He straightened his posture and stood with confidence.
“Spidey…” The perv sounded sad. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but it seems kinda like…”
“Like what?” Al demanded.
Deadpool sighed. “Has… anything happened recently? Did something really bad happen? I know it’s personal; you don’t have to tell me. But, if something happened, it might’ve…”
“Might have what?” Al couldn’t remember anything bad happening, other than meeting Deadpool, of course. But had something happened to Peter? Was there more than just studying stressing him out? “What are you getting at?”
The mercenary seemed to be having difficulty keeping his hands to himself. He finally let his arms hang awkwardly at his sides. “Have you… been having memory gaps?”
Al blinked. Of course he had, but why would Deadpool be askin— Oh. Oh no.
He felt Peter creep back into their mind, encouraging him to take a back seat as he handled things with the man he might’ve called a friend.
“Deadpool,” Peter spoke. “It sounds like you’re already figuring things out, so I might as well just say it. I don’t know what you told him, but it’s me again. I mean, he’s here too. It’s just, I feel like I should be the one to explain since I know you better.” He huffed and face-palmed before continuing. “We have DID. There are only two alters in our system, me and… Al.” Al tried to come forward to stop Peter from talking about him, but Peter just kept talking. “Nobody but me knows his name, so I’m not worried about it revealing my identity. He can be… defensive. I’m sorry he’s been pushing you away. But I don’t blame him.” Al got the feeling that was said for his benefit, rather than Deadpool’s. “Your… flirting makes him uncomfortable.”
The merc noticeably stiffened. “Flirting makes him uncomfortable?” His voice sounded weak and like he might sick-up. Al recoiled in shame, letting Peter handle things from here on. He didn’t want to hear this.
***
As Al left, Peter kept talking. He knew Ally would be mad about it, but Deadpool deserved some kind of explanation. And he was one of the few people who could understand it. “When we were twelve… Ally was… touched.” Peter swallowed as his heart clenched for his alter. “I don’t remember it, obviously, but I know it was bad. It was his friend. It went on for a while, and… you know the rest, I guess.” He shrugged, trying to put on an affect of nonchalance. He didn’t want Deadpool to pry. Ally wouldn’t want to come forward to talk about it.
Instead of probing further, Deadpool put his arms out, permission to hug Spidey?”
Peter smiled and fell forward into his arms, tears welling in his mask. “Permission granted.”
They held each other for a while, until Deadpool broke the silence “I was too, you know.” He didn’t have to elaborate.
Peter swiped at his eyes under his mask before hugging the man tighter. “I know.”