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Spidey drops lightly onto the roof, landing in a crouch on the ledge beside Wade. It used to freak Wade out, seeing Webs jump and land and perch in such precarious positions. Even with his web-slinging abilities, it made Wade nervous to see someone as squishy and mortal as Spidey so near a precipice.
“Seven-five,” Spidey chirps, folding his arms on his knees and tilting his head cockily. His mask isn’t nearly as expressive as Wade’s, but he finds a way around that with his body language and general aura.
Wade gapes, his half-finished burrito hovering a few inches from his mouth. “Not possible,” he blurts. “You’re lying.”
Spidey twists, letting his ass land on the ledge, his legs hang over the edge, and the rest of his body flop lazily onto the roof. He’s panting, just barely, which would certainly be evident of Spidey having just chased down a pigeon. You know, if Wade actually believed the asshole.
[Spidey doesn’t lie.]
{Sure, he does. Remember that time he said he didn’t live in Queens? After we totally saw him climb into an apartment’s window?}
Wade shakes his head violently. “We don’t remember that,” he admonishes the boxes, muttering under his breath. At least, he tries not to remember that. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it—
[Aaaand we totally remember.]
{It was right above a little sandwich shop.}
Shit.
Whatever. Even if Wade knows where Spidey lives and could easily use that information to figure out Spidey’s identity, he hasn’t done it yet and he doesn’t plan to. Plus, Webs clearly trusts him enough to know that Wade accidentally figured out where he lived and yet still hasn’t moved out of the building. At least, he probably hasn’t. He still swings home in the same direction at the end of every patrol, even months later.
“I win,” Spidey reminds him, dragging Wade’s attention back to the matter at hand.
A few weeks ago, Spidey accidentally promised some homeless guy that he’d help him track down twelve different pigeons. They’re specific pigeons, too, not random ones that the man is convinced belongs to him. They actually respond to him, like they’re trained, and it was because of a fight that Spidey had that the pigeons escaped in every direction in the first place. Spidey felt guilty enough to agree to bring them back to the man.
Ever since then, they’ve been having a little competition. Well, ever since Wade saw Spider-Man chasing down a pigeon, actually. He laughed about the situation for a good ten minutes after Spidey explained it all to him, and then he agreed to help.
Anyway, they were six-five just a few days ago, with Spidey in the lead. With only one pigeon left to find, Wade had been hoping to at least come out even with Spider-Man.
“Damn,” Wade says. “Now how are we gonna pass the time?”
Spidey snorts. “Actually fight crime, I guess.”
They haven’t really been chasing pigeons when actual crimes are going on, but maybe the city could benefit from them being a little more attentive again. Boring.
Wade’s just about to offer Spidey the rest of his burrito — he hadn’t expected to see the web-slinger tonight, otherwise he would’ve brought extras — but the burrito tumbles out of his hand and off the edge of the building when Wade jolts, the sound of a scream surprising him.
It’s high-pitched. Girlish. Young.
A kid.
Even before Spidey can react, Wade is jumping off the edge of the building, his heart pounding in his throat. You don’t hurt kids. Murdering adults is a different ballgame — still shitty if they don’t deserve it — but a kid never deserves it. Wade never tolerated any sort of crime that harms children, but these days, it freaks him out more than it angers him. Makes him push himself a little harder, a little faster, some uncomfortable edge of terror lodged into the back of his skull.
[There are lots of little girls in New York.]
{Ellie’s in bed at her abuela’s right now anyway.}
Doesn’t matter. Rationality always disappears in moments like this.
Wade’s holding onto a drainpipe, hurtling down the side of the building, and despite his grip on the pipe he’s probably still about to shatter both of his ankles. A moment before he can hit the ground, however, he’s being lifted and swung toward the edge of the alleyway, deposited on the pavement at a much slower pace.
“Thanks,” Wade gasps out.
Spidey doesn’t bother to answer, dropping the web he’d caught Wade with, and they both charge into the street in a blur.
There’s a little girl — blonde, white, maybe about six — and she’s struggling in the arms of some douche in a hoodie, who’s booking it toward a white van.
[Wow. If you’re gonna kidnap kids, maybe don’t live up to the stereotypes.]
{I feel a murderous haze coming on.}
Wade very deliberately shoves his murder-y instincts down. No need to traumatize the kid further. Or possibly impale her on the katana he wants to run the man through with.
Spidey leaps ahead of them, webbing the vehicle to the ground — smart, no get-away cars here — leaving Wade to deal with the target practice. Sorry, criminal.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Wade growls, grabbing the guy by the back of his shirt when he takes a hasty step back, having spotted Spider-Man. He stiffens, his arms immediately loosening around the girl, but Wade yanks the guy closer so that he can catch her by the arm rather than let her fall to the ground. She’s crying, her mouth no longer covered by the guy’s grimy hand, and Wade sets her down and lets her run to Spider-Man in favor of teaching this guy a lesson.
“Get — off!” he barks, struggling against Wade. He lets the murderous haze creep back in. Just a little bit. Not enough to actually murder.
He even manages to keep his guns and katanas tucked away, all safe and sound! Instead, he beats the guy to a pulp — totally deserved — and tosses him sideways into the alley. Even without Spidey’s webs to hold him down, he isn’t going anywhere. Not on those broken femurs!
The feeling of bruised knuckles and heroic satisfaction calms Wade down enough to tune back into his surroundings. There are a few civilians around, most keeping their distance, and Spidey’s standing under a streetlight with the still sobbing girl.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” Spidey’s muttering, crouched down at her level. His hands hover in the air around her, too wary to touch her and spook her further. “You’re okay, I’m here! Where are your parents?”
The girl doesn’t answer. She’s inconsolable, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she shakes and shivers. Wade stops next to Webs, who glances up at him, looking panicked.
“Holy S-H-I-T!” Wade says loudly. The girl jumps, peering up at him through red, watery eyes. “Is that a freakin’ Sofia the First t-shirt?”
She peers down at her shirt, looks back up at Wade, and nods.
Wade whistles. “I can’t find any in my size.”
The girl stares at him blankly for about three seconds, and then she lets out a wet-sounding laugh. “These shirts are for kids,” she points out.
Wade scoffs. “You kiddin’? Anyone can enjoy quality TV. Where’d you get it?”
“Target,” the girl says shyly. And then: “I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers.” She’s wringing her hands in her shirt, mangling poor Sofia’s face.
“You betcha,” Wade says. “But you know who Spidey is, don’t you?”
The girl glances at Webs. She nods.
“You know what he does?”
The girl shrugs. Nods again. “Superhero,” she mumbles.
“That’s right,” Wade says. “I’m Deadpool. I’m kind of like Spidey’s sidekick. Together, we can help you track down your parents. How does that sound?”
The girl sniffles. “Good,” she murmurs. “Mommy was still in the restaurant. She went to pay the check, but then…” she glances toward the alleyway. Whoops. Maybe she saw a little more than Wade intended for her to see. “He said he needed help looking for his dog…”
“And that’s why we don’t talk to strangers,” Spidey chimes in. Wade nods importantly.
“How’s about we go back and see if your mom is still paying the bill?” Wade says. He holds out a hand, which the girl grabs eagerly, and she directs them to the restaurant by describing what kind of food she’d been eating (a grilled cheese sandwich, which a sit-down place around the corner serves on the kid’s menu).
The three of them round the corner of the street just in time to see a woman speaking frantically with a police officer, his car parked in front of the restaurant and flashing blue and red. She’s hysterical, gesturing violently, but she falls silent at the ear-splitting, “Mommy!” that emits from Wade’s side.
The kid drops Wade’s hand and sprints toward her mom, who sobs in relief and falls to her knees, catching her daughter in a hug.
Spidey puts up with the mother’s thank you’s and how can I ever repay you’s and you’re a hero’s. Wade hangs back. Adults usually know better than kids that he’s not exactly a hero, nor Spider-Man’s sidekick.
“You’re good at that,” Spidey says, some fifteen minutes later. They’re loitering by a taco truck, waiting for the line to die down before buying some food for themselves.
“Huh?”
“Dealing with kids,” Spidey elaborates. “Whenever they’re panicking, I start panicking. I never know what to do.”
Wade just shrugs. “Guess it’s a special talent,” he says.
Not for the first time, he wonders why he doesn’t just tell Spidey that he has a daughter. He already knows almost everything else about Wade. But then, ever since Wade found out about Ellie and actually got involved in her life, he’s been incredibly protective of her. He’s not used to having nice things, and Ellie’s the nicest thing he’s ever stumbled into having.
Not that anyone needs to be protected from Spider-Man, of course. Still, something about Ellie is different. Something about anyone knowing about Ellie — even Spidey — is different. He can’t really explain it.
—
“Oooh, don’t tempt me,” Wade groans, walking up behind Spidey and grabbing his hips. He doesn’t actually press up against him, despite the fact that Spidey’s ass is practically asking for it.
Spidey straightens up from where he’d been bent over, stretching and touching his toes. When he turns around, Wade drops his hands, wishing that Spidey had been in the middle of eating something. Whenever Webs has his mask pulled up to his nose, Wade gets to experience the pleasure of watching him blush whenever Wade flirts with him.
“Deadpool,” Spidey greets, sounding surprised. He used to be impossible to sneak up on, but these days, Wade can manage it much easier. Spidey’s bad-guy sense doesn’t seem to ping for Wade anymore. “Where’ve you been?”
Wade winces. He feels a little guilty for up and disappearing on Webs this past week, but he couldn’t help it.
They have a schedule that they silently agreed to. Every day, Spidey starts patrolling around sunset. On Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, Wade tracks him down about an hour or two afterward and joins him for the rest of the night. Wade doesn’t patrol with him at all most weekends, because he almost always has Ellie, and Mondays and Tuesdays are a toss-up. If Wade does patrol, it’s always right when Spidey starts, and he only stays long enough for Ellie to finish up any after-school activities.
She stays with her abuela three days a week. Her mom died when she was just a baby, and her abuela was the one raising her until she figured out that Wade was her father. It came as a surprise to both of them, and Wade was pretty freaked out about it at first. He’d had no idea that he had a kid — honestly, he’d had no idea that he could even create a kid — but the second he calmed down about the whole situation, he’d realized that he wanted to be involved.
At first, it was just visiting Ellie. Getting to know her. Buying her the things she needed. But Wade quickly realized that he loved his daughter. She wasn’t just some kid who happened to be related to him. No, she was a little firecracker. Hilarious and smart and thoughtful and kind. She looked like him, a little bit. It’s in the shape of her eyes and the lilt of her mouth. She looks like her mom a whole lot more, of course, but that’s probably a good thing.
Anyway, Wade and Ellie’s abuela have been raising her together for the past five years, ever since Ellie was four. They make decisions together and they drive her between her respective homes. She spends most of the week with Wade and his life is better for it. Hers, too, he thinks. You don’t get to do all the crazy fun kid stuff that she loves to do when you’re being raised by just one person, and a much older, much less active person, at that. Not that her abuela isn’t amazing.
But last week, her abuela came down with the flu. Things didn’t look good for a second there, and Wade was watching Ellie the whole week, the two of them visiting the hospital every single day after Ellie got out of school. Shit’s fine now — Abuela made a strong recovery and she’s back to cooking dinners with way too much spice and berating Wade for allowing Ellie to swear (when asked for permission), so everything’s cool. But Wade didn’t see Spidey at all and it wasn’t like he could give him a heads up.
“Just some personal stuff,” Wade says, waving his hand flippantly. “Hope you weren’t bored without me, baby boy.”
Webs shrugs. “Patrolling is always more fun when you’re around,” he says.
Wade pretends that his heart doesn’t do several backflips inside his chest and Spidey pretends that admitting that so nonchalantly wasn’t a big deal for him.
“Aww,” Wade says, finally breaking the silence once his brain comes back online. “You really missed me!”
“Shut up,” Spidey says, and then he leaps off the building to resume his patrol.
It’s not the most eventful night, but it’s fun nevertheless. Spidey stops a drug deal and Wade scares the ever-loving shit out of a guy harassing a girl walking down the street. They tag-team a purse-snatcher and Spidey even grabs Wade and swings him for a few blocks when they hear sirens.
They’re taking a break on top of a bank when Wade’s phone goes off in his pocket, drawing both of their attention with the shrill sound of its ringtone.
“I gotta take this,” Wade says, after glancing at the screen and seeing Ellie’s name. He stands and walks a few feet from Spidey, not that that’ll actually stop him from hearing Wade’s side of the conversation.
He answers the call and brings his phone up to his ear, staring idly at the people on the street below.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says. “What’s up?”
Ellie huffs on the other end of the line. “Sarah’s mom accidentally dropped me off at your apartment,” she says. It’s Thursday, which means she’s supposed to be at Abuela’s. Knowing Ellie, she probably got out of the car instead of telling Mrs. Wright she was at the wrong house.
“Wuh-oh,” Wade says. “You still have your key?”
“Yeah,” Ellie says. “And I texted Abuela. She said she can come pick me up if you’re not gonna be home soon.”
Ellie must’ve just got done with soccer practice. Every Tuesday and Thursday, she stays after school for chess club immediately followed by soccer, which means she gets home pretty late.
“That’s okay,” Wade says quickly. “I’ll be home soon. What are you thinking for dinner? Chinese?”
Ellie gasps, her excitement palpable over the phone. “Can you get those things that I like? The crab things?” Crab Rangoon. Her favorite place makes horrible crab Rangoon, in Wade’s opinion. They’re almost always a little bit stale, as if they’d been made a day or two beforehand, but Ellie loves them.
“Sounds perfect,” Wade says. “See you in ten?”
Ellie’s damn responsible for her age. If Wade were a less attentive parent, he’d feel inclined to let her stay home alone. But he doesn’t like the thought of her being in his apartment by herself. Not to mention that Wade and her Abuela agreed that she should only ever be home alone for thirty minutes tops.
“’Kay,” Ellie says happily. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” Wade says. He ends the call, tucking the phone back into his pocket and turning toward Spidey. “Sorry, baby boy,” he says. “I’m gonna have to cut our night short.”
His mind is already elsewhere. Crab Rangoon for Ellie, plus she’ll want the chicken fried rice as well as the sesame chicken. If he’d known she were coming tonight, he would’ve cooked something himself. Plus, he should probably text her Abuela when he gets a chance to assure her that everything’s fine.
But his mind is immediately drawn back to the present when Spidey stands. His entire demeanor is stiff. Cold.
“Sure,” he says. He’s facing Wade and his arms are crossed.
“Oooh-kay,” Wade says slowly. “See you tomorrow?”
Spidey scoffs. It’s unlike any scoff Wade has heard from him before. Usually, Spidey’s scoffs are tinged with an edge of humor. Vague, but amused, annoyance. Disbelief, sometimes, or maybe fondness.
This scoff is angry.
“I’m busy tomorrow,” Spidey says. Except he’ll definitely be out patrolling. Wade’s seen him patrolling at his worst, sleep-deprived and stressed from stuff from his real life. Even if Spidey is at his brink, he’ll be out tomorrow. And a Spidey at his brink always appreciates help on the streets.
Wade blanks. “Um,” he says. He’s floundering. Spidey’s been annoyed at him before. Most notably when they first became acquaintances. They didn’t see eye to eye, mostly because Wade believes that assholes don’t deserve second chances at Spidey believes that they deserve as many as it takes. Eventually, Wade agreed to stop killing people in front of Webs, which somehow progressed into him almost never killing people in general. “You sure, baby boy?”
Webs shakes his head, emanating annoyance. “Don’t call me that,” he snaps.
“Okay,” Wade says, the word barely a whisper. Spidey seems off. Usually, he disregards Wade’s flirting and abundance of nicknames. At best, he blushes and leans briefly into Wade’s side. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“How would that not make me uncomfortable?” Webs snaps. “Who flirts with someone when they’re in a committed relationship?”
Wade gapes. Spidey’s in a relationship? How is Wade just now realizing? Webs never made that obvious, Wade wouldn’t have crossed so many boundaries otherwise.
“I’m sorry,” Wade blurts. “I didn’t realize—”
“Whatever,” Spidey interrupts. He takes a step back, standing right on the edge of the roof. “You should’ve told me. It’s not fair to make someone think—” he cuts himself off. Shakes his head. “Whatever,” he repeats.
Wade’s lost. He’s fifty shades of confused and utterly uncertain, but when he opens his mouth to respond, Spidey is already gone. He’s jumped off the roof and is swinging away, his silhouette barely a shadow in the distance.
It’s only after he’s gone that Wade’s brain starts to truly comprehend the conversation they just had. And from the sound of it, Spidey seems to think that Wade is the one in a relationship, not the other way around.
—
Ellie stands at the bus stop, twisting the straps of her backpack in her hands. Dad should’ve been here ten minutes ago. The other parents were standing around like usual when the bus arrived, but Ellie declined to walk home with Jerry and his mom because she thought Dad would be here soon.
Most of the time, she doesn’t ride the bus home from school. Abuela or one of her friend’s parents usually drive her home after club stuff, and on the rare occasion when she does ride the bus home, it’s either Dad waiting for her at the bus stop or Abuela’s car idling on the side of the street.
Ellie feels tears begin to prickle in her eyes, which she stubbornly ignores. Ellie doesn’t cry about stupid stuff. And everything about today was stupid.
She got into a fight with Henry at recess. He said that girls aren’t as good at chess as boys, which is stupid because Ellie’s way better than him and she’s the one who got him to join the chess club anyway. But he refused to apologize and so Ellie refused to go to chess today, because Henry’s mom was supposed to drop her off and there was no way she was going to suffer a fifteen-minute car ride with that jerk.
She texted Dad at lunch even though they’re not supposed to use their phones in school. She had to make sure that he knew she was coming home early, because he’s usually out doing hero work while she’s at her clubs. Except Dad isn’t here even though he said he would be and Ellie feels embarrassed and also a little nervous standing at the bus stop alone.
Finally, Ellie caves. She pulls out her phone and presses the call button, still wringing her backpack strap with her free hand.
“Ellie-belly!” Dad greets.
“Where are you?” Ellie says immediately. “I’m alone at the bus stop.”
“I know, baby, I know,” Dad says. “I was trying to call you. It’s a miracle you called me first ‘cause it’s way easier to answer than dial right now.”
Ellie purses her lips. “Are you…”
“I’m fine!” Dad assures her. “I mean, I will be. I’ll totally be able to walk soon. I almost have full mobility in my fingers, too.”
Worry gnaws at Ellie’s gut. Dad can’t die, but he still gets hurt sometimes, and it scares Ellie.
“What happened?” she asks.
“Dinosaurs,” Dad says. “No, ninjas. It was dinosaur-ninjas. I won.”
“Dad…”
“I’ll tell you the full story at home,” Dad promises her. “Can you stay on the phone with me and start walking? By the time you get home, I’ll be almost healed up.”
“There’s, like, three different intersections,” Ellie hedges.
“True,” Dad says. “But you gotta wait for the walk sign, even if other people are jaywalking. But if you’re nervous, you can go into that coffee shop right by the bus stop, you see it? And you can tell whoever’s working that your dad’s running late and he told you to wait inside until he gets there.”
Ellie chews on her lip. “I wanna wait,” she decides.
“That’s fine,” Dad says. “Just stay on the phone until you’re inside, okay?”
Ellie hums a response, then jogs to the coffee shop just a few buildings away. She heaves the heavy door open and steps into the warmth inside. “Okay,” she says. “I’m inside.”
“Perfect,” Dad says. “I’ll be there soon. Thirty minutes tops. Call me if you need to, okay?”
“Okay,” Ellie says.
The coffee shop is relatively empty. There are only three other customers inside. There’s a girl sitting by the window with a book, another girl typing on her laptop, and a man scrolling on his phone.
Ellie makes her way to the counter, feeling nervous again.
“Excuse me?” she says, drawing the attention of the guy behind it. He immediately leans forward, placing his elbows on the counter to get closer to Ellie’s height. He has brown hair, glasses, and a nametag that says Peter.
“Hi there,” he says. “What can I get for ya?”
“Um, nothing,” Ellie says. “But my dad’s running late. He told me to wait here for him, if that’s okay.”
Peter smiles and nods. “Sure thing,” he says. “Wanna sit at this table by the counter? You could do your homework while you wait, and you’ll be able to see your dad through the window.”
Ellie grins. Relief rushes over her. She knew it probably wouldn’t be a big deal to wait in the coffee shop, but she was worried that they wouldn’t want her to stay there, for whatever reason.
“Yeah,” Ellie says. “Thank you!”
She follows his advice, setting her bag in the chair beside her and pulling out her homework while she’s at it. Multiplication is the bane of her existence. Not because it’s especially hard, but because it always takes her a while and Ms. Lacey doesn’t want them counting on their fingers anymore.
After just a few minutes, Peter shows up by her table, holding a hot chocolate and a muffin.
“I can never do homework without something to eat,” he says, setting them by her elbow.
“I can never do homework without wanting to die,” Ellie mutters darkly. Peter laughs, seeming surprised, and Ellie hides a smile behind her curtain of hair, bending back over her homework.
“You know the trick with this one?” Peter says, pointing at her paper. It’s 9x7, which she skipped because she likes to do the easy ones first.
“No,” Ellie admits. And then Peter shows her the trick, using his fingers not to count, but to show her the exact number that the equation will be.
“It works with any number times nine,” he explains. “Well, any number up to ten.”
He helps her with another problem that Ellie was struggling with, and then Ellie manages to distract herself from homework by distracting Peter from his job. She tells him about how she wasn’t even supposed to ride the bus home today, and then dives into the whole story about Henry being a jerk-face.
“That’s stupid,” Peter says, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.
“Right?” Ellie says. “It’s extra stupid because he didn’t even want to do chess at first, because he said it was nerdy. But I told him that Spider-Man is nerdy, and Spider-Man’s cool, which means chess can be nerdy and cool.”
Peter grins. “You think Spider-Man’s a nerd?”
Ellie shrugs. “My dad says he is. Plus, he makes his webs himself, and you have to be pretty nerdy to know how to do something like that.”
Peter blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Yeah, I guess — yeah. That does sound pretty nerdy.”
Peter goes back behind the counter after that, and only ten minutes later, Ellie’s manages to finish her homework. Dad arrives almost immediately after.
She sees him before he reaches the shop, right through the window like Peter said she would. He’s dressed in his Deadpool costume and limping just a little bit, which means he started walking before his leg was totally healed. He doesn’t seem bothered, though, and he catches her gaze and waves through the window before rounding the building.
The door opens with a merry chime and the atmosphere inside the shop shifts. The girl on her laptop freezes, her eyes wide as she stares at Dad, and behind the counter, Peter looks pale.
Dad doesn’t have the best reputation. He tends to make people nervous, even though he’s more of a hero than an anti-hero these days.
“Dad!” Ellie exclaims, scrambling out of her seat and rushing across the shop. She barrels into him and he picks her up with an exaggerated groan, complaining as he swings her side-to-side.
“So… heavy!” he pants.
“I’m not heavy,” Ellie says.
“Arms… failing!”
“Dad,” Ellie complains, and Dad laughs, kissing her forehead through his mask and then setting her back on the ground. He catches her hand, leading her toward her bookbag.
“No way,” he says, staring at her homework. “Does this mean I don’t have to bribe you to do math?”
“I could still use a bribe,” Ellie says. She shoves the bag into Dad’s arms and then hands him her folder, letting him pack it up for her. He swings the bag over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising behind the mask when Ellie retrieves her half-finished snack.
“Where’d you get that?” he says.
Ellie sighs loftily. “People can’t help doting on me,” she says, then flicks her hair over her shoulder. “It was the barista. He even helped me with my homework!”
“What a saint,” Dad mutters. He walks to the counter, Ellie hanging onto his hand again. “Thanks for watching her,” he says, digging into one of his pouches for his wallet. “Car trouble.”
Ellie snorts.
“Uh,” Peter says. “Yeah. Um. No problem.”
Dad drops a bill in the tip jar and Peter’s eyes widen. “That’s really not necessary,” he says.
“Anyone who helps my Ellie with her homework deserves compensation.”
Ellie scoffs. “That’s not true,” she says.
Peter nods in agreement. “Honestly, she was fine.”
Dad waves him off. “Thanks again!” he says. Ellie’s already dragging him toward the exit.
“Can we get ramen for dinner?” she says.
“I was gonna make tacos,” Dad says. “You love my tacos.”
“I also love ramen,” Ellie points out. “And you owe me for breaking all your bones when you were supposed to be picking me up.”
“Did I not mention the ninja-dinosaurs?” Dad says. “It was a brutal fight.”
“It’s three against one,” Ellie decides. “The boxes like eating out, too.”
They continue to debate what they should eat for dinner as they leave the coffee shop, but Ellie catches Peter staring after them, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping. Ellie grins and waves, gratified when he waves back.
—
“You look hungry,” Wade says, before shoving his gun into the guy’s mouth. He whimpers, trying to pull away, but there’s nowhere to go. His head just bonks into the brick wall behind him.
He caught the guy tugging forcefully at a girl’s clothes in this very same alley, and even though she’s long since run away, Wade isn’t quite done having his fun with this asshole.
The gun isn’t loaded, but that doesn’t stop the guy from pissing his pants. Wade snickers. And then his hand is jerked back, the gun abruptly webbed out of sight.
“Oh, come on!” Wade complains. His fun decidedly is over when the guy ends up webbed to the wall at the very same second that Wade is yanked out of the alley, up to the roof above.
Spidey’s standing there with his arms crossed, Wade’s gun in his hand. Yeah, okay. That’s hot. Wade can’t deny it.
[Quick, give him more guns! Ooh, no, give him the katanas!]
{Spider-Man doesn’t like weapons. They encourage violence.}
[Yet he’s holding a gun right now.]
{Better to shoot us with.}
“Spidey wouldn’t shoot us,” Wade scoffs.
“Of course, I wouldn’t,” Spidey says. “This isn’t even loaded,” he adds, waving the gun. Damn. He knows Wade too well. And then, as if this interaction alone isn’t already too good to be true: “Look, I wanted to apologize.”
Spider-Man apologizing to Wade? Unheard of.
And that’s not because he’s a dick. It’s because Spidey isn’t the one who fucks up and makes mistakes and needs to apologize all the time. That’s Wade, and he’s gotten very good at realizing when he’s fucked up and figuring out how to make up for it post-haste.
“I forgive you,” Wade says immediately. “What are you apologizing for again?”
Spidey shakes his head—
[That’s an amused shake! Not a pissed off shake!]
—and holds the gun out to Wade.
“I’m apologizing for accusing you of flirting with me and then avoiding you ever since,” he says.
Wade accepts the gun and tucks it back into his holster. “I was flirting with you,” Wade points out. “I’m always flirting with you.”
Spidey’s finger twitches against his thigh. God dammit, Wade just knows he’s blushing under that mask. Hiding it should be a crime!
“But you’re not in a relationship, are you,” he says. It doesn’t sound like a question.
Wade shakes his head. “I’m single and ready to mingle, baby boy.”
“Right,” Spidey says. “So. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”
Wade just shrugs, because today is going way better than he thought it would. “That’s okay,” he says. “Plus, now I totally know that you have a crush on me. And that you were jealous.” He giggles. Spidey cracks several knuckles, fidgeting anxiously.
“Yeah,” he says. That’s it. After years of flirting with the guy and thinking that Spidey just put up with it, this is how Wade learns that his feelings are reciprocated. Yeah.
“Yeah, you have a crush on me?” Wade says.
Webs fidgets harder. He itches his arm then shuffles his weight from one leg to the other. He’s embarrassed. “Yes,” he says, and then clears his throat.
Wade just stands there. The world is kind of imploding right now. It’s possible that he’s hallucinating. It’s also possible that he’s actually asleep and having the best dream ever.
“Okay,” he finally says. Score! His mouth still works.
“Okay?” Spidey says. “That’s it?”
“I’m— uuhh,” Wade says. Maybe his brain isn’t really working. But none of this feels especially real. He didn’t think Spidey would just agree. “Yes?”
Spider-Man groans, digging his palms into the eyes of his mask. Wade takes a tentative step closer to him.
“I thought if I told you I liked you that you’d kiss me, or something,” Spidey murmurs.
“Oh!” Wade blurts. “Okay! Yes. Let me kiss you.”
Spidey shakes his head. “No way,” he says. “Now it’ll be awkward and not spontaneous.”
“It won’t be awkward,” Wade argues, inching closer.
“Yes it will!” Webs says, dropping his arms and standing up straight. “I just asked you to kiss me. I could’ve done it myself! This is horrible.”
Wade snickers. He closes the last step between them and grabs Spidey by the hips, pulling him closer. Spidey stands there like a limp doll, pouting and radiating embarrassment.
“Will it feel more spontaneous if I dip you?”
“Deadpool.”
“I could spontaneously fight you. Make you all confused before I kiss you.”
“Wade.”
“I’ll throw us both off the roof. You’ll be forced to catch us and then I’ll kiss you.”
“Wade.”
Wade laughs, and then he reaches out and hooks his finger under Spidey’s mask. It speaks to how much Spidey trusts him that he doesn’t even stiffen or jerk away. He just lets Wade tug it up, until it’s sitting on his nose and Wade gets to see that pout for real.
Wade does the same for his own mask and then he’s pulling Webs in again. Despite Spidey’s worries, the kiss isn’t awkward. It’s slow and sweet, exploratory, and Wade can’t help laughing against Spidey’s mouth, because this is definitely more absurd than any getting-together scenario Wade has thought of before.
“Stop laughing,” Spidey mutters, his fingers gripping Wade warningly.
“Can’t help it,” Wade says. He pecks Spidey on the lips between every word. They’re barely even kisses, because they can’t stop smiling.
And then Wade wraps his arms around Spidey’s waist and leaps off the roof. Because he’s spontaneous like that.
—
Wade has been forced into Deadpool business at inconvenient times before.
It’s never fun when it happens without him having been planning for it beforehand. Like when he’s snatched into a car while walking down the street or stolen from his own living room in a safehouse. It’s always abrupt and surprising, and Wade never has the right weapons on him for the occasion.
It doesn’t happen all that often, but it happens just enough that it’s not so shocking as it once was. The kidnappers know they can’t kill him, but there are definitely people out there who delight in torture and assume that they can get Wade to speak eventually, if they just torture him enough.
Unluckily for them, Wade’s pretty good at keeping his mouth shut when he wants to. He’s been asked about people he’s been hired to kill and information he’s stolen. He’s been killed over and over again in an attempt to get him to reveal how he became immortal in the first place. Hell, he’s even been tortured for Spidey’s identity, not that Wade knew it or would’ve given it to the captors even if he had.
Anyway, Wade’s no stranger to unplanned Deadpool business. However, he is a stranger to unplanned Deadpool business when he’s supposed to be spending the day with his daughter.
They’d been on their way to the zoo. Wade was suited up, because he likes to be suited up if he’s going to be in public for a long time. You still get stares that way, but they don’t hurt as much as the stares he tends to get when he’s out in public simply existing as himself.
Anyway. They’d just about reached the entrance of the zoo when the assholes came out of nowhere. They were wearing ski masks — fuckin’ amateurs — and they’d grabbed Ellie before they grabbed him, which was probably why they managed to get him so easily. He was in the middle of freaking the fuck out, plus he couldn’t just up and shoot a guy who happened to be holding his daughter.
Anyway, they’re shut up in a warehouse now. Ellie is tied up much the same as Wade, but whereas he’s annoyingly used to this kind of shit, she has no prior experience of it at all. That’s why she’s crying, her eyes full of panic, and Wade feels his heart rip itself into shreds because it’s not fair.
He’s trying to be the best possible dad for her. But the best possible dad shouldn’t be out there playing superhero and getting their kids kidnapped.
So. Wade twists his hand hard enough that his wrist snaps, and from there it’s relatively easy to wriggle out of the ropes restraining him. He only has one working hand after that, but it’s good enough for untying Ellie.
The second he has her out of the ropes — her mouth similarly un-taped — she barrels into his arms, shaking.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Wade whispers, hugging her back. “We’ll get out of here easy-peasy, okay? I eat shitstains like this for breakfast.”
Ellie sniffs. “That’s a bad word,” she whispers.
“And unlike you, I don’t have to ask permission,” Wade hums. “Now, listen carefully. I can get us out of here, but you have to listen to everything I say. If I tell you to run and leave me behind, you do it, okay? ‘Cause I can always meet up with you later.”
Ellie hugs him harder. She’s trembling, and Wade hates himself just a little bit more. “I don’t want to be alone,” she whispers.
“I know,” Wade says. “That’s just a last resort. But I’ll do my best to get us out of here together.”
The dipshits haven’t even given them their evil monologue yet, explaining why they kidnapped Wade in the first place, but it hardly matters. If your evil regime is stupid enough to leave a victim unattended, then you deserve to have them escape before you can get the chance. Them’s the rules.
Wade stands, sweeping Ellie up into his arms as he does, and he draws a gun before he heads to the door. He’d prefer not to kill anyone while literally holding his daughter, but at this point, he’s going to do whatever it takes. You don’t get to scare the shit out of his kid without getting a little bit murdered in the process.
Except, just as Wade emerges into the main room of the warehouse, full of a bunch of vehicles and machines, Spidey leaps down from the rafters. And damn, does he look good in action.
The last two weeks, they’ve been all over each other. Still only meeting up during patrol, but frantically making out in all their free time.
“We’re saved!” Wade whispers, pointing at Spidey. “Spider-Man came for us!”
Ellie scoffs. “We were saved anyway,” she says, totally pretending like she wasn’t thinking that Wade couldn’t get them out on his own.
Spidey swings feet-first into a goon, who goes flying across the warehouse, and Wade whoops as he crashes into a wall. The sound draws some attention to himself, but he shoots in their general direction, cupping Ellie’s head to his chest with one hand over her ear. No one gets shot, because he doesn’t really want to see his daughter witness the blood and anguish of someone getting shot, but it scares the idiots enough for Spidey to web ‘em down.
It’s not the most difficult fight, all in all. The assholes clearly have some experiencing with successfully kidnapping people, but they’re severely lacking in the everything-else department.
By the time the fight is over, Wade has managed to kill exactly zero people, Ellie is no longer cowering in his arms, and Spidey is landing neatly in front of them, looking frantic.
“Are you two all right?” he asks, glancing between them quickly. Ellie immediately wiggles in Wade’s arms, no doubt embarrassed to be seen like this in front of her hero.
Right. Did Wade ever mention that Ellie’s a huge Spider-Man fan?
Wade sets her down and she straightens up, though she mostly hides behind him. She rarely acts this shy. Then again, she rarely gets to meet Spider-Man.
“We’re good,” Wade says, reaching behind himself to noogie Ellie’s head. “Don’t you wanna thank Spider-Man?”
“Thanks,” Ellie mumbles, peering out from behind Wade.
Wade clears his throat. He didn’t intend for Spidey to figure out he has a daughter like this. He thought he’d mention it first, then introduce them. Not have Spider-Man swoop in to save the day when Wade and his daughter are accidentally captured.
“Webs, this is my daughter,” Wade says. “Ellie. Ellie, this is my friend Spider-Man.”
“I know who Spider-Man is,” Ellie scoffs, still pressing her face into Wade’s back. Despite the fact that she’s cowering behind Wade, she’s absolutely going to rant and beam later tonight, full of excitement over meeting the web-slinger.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Spidey says, leaning around Wade to get a glimpse of Ellie. He’s taking this perfectly, it seems. Not at all freaking out about the fact that Wade has a kid he never told him about. “You know, your dad used to help me test out my web formula.”
Wade snorts. It’s almost true. When he and Spidey first became acquaintances, Spidey didn’t trust him one bit. He webbed him up almost every time they encountered each other, and Wade figured out all kinds of fun stuff, like how quickly the webs dissolved and what kind of weapons could break through it. Unintentionally, he’d helped Spidey to improve his webs to last longer and resist more kinds of tampering.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Ellie mumbles. She squeezes Wade’s arm, sending him a wide-eyed look. “Can we go home?” she whispers, definitely loud enough for Spidey to hear.
“Sorry to cut this short, Webs, but Ellie and I have plans tonight,” Wade lies. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“For sure,” Spidey says. “You two get home safe. Ellie, don’t let your dad buy those street tacos he’s always talking about.” He rubs his stomach dramatically, shaking his head. “They hurt me.”
Ellie giggles. “We like street tacos,” she protests.
Spidey groans. “No one ever listens to my advice!”
Ellie laughs again, hanging off Wade’s arm now, and Wade can’t help but grin. Spidey managed to ease the tension, somehow. This was certainly a terrifying experience for Ellie, and any therapy she may end up having to attend in the future will definitely be Wade’s fault, but she seems fine for now. If Wade’s lucky, the excitement of Ellie finally getting to meet Spider-Man might override the terror of getting kidnapped.
“See you tomorrow,” Wade repeats. He squeezes Spidey’s hand as he walks past him and Spidey squeezes back, letting them leave.
And just like Wade guessed, all Ellie wants to talk about when they get home is Spider-Man. The way he swung through the warehouse, the funny jokes he made, the — can I swear? — totally badass way he webbed two guys up together.
That night, Ellie crawls into Wade’s bed to sleep, probably because she’s still a little jittery about the events of the day, even if she doesn’t realize it. Wade doesn’t mind. He just cuddles her closer, grateful that he has the coolest kid and the best maybe-possibly-they-should-probably-define-it boyfriend.
—
The next night, Ellie’s back at her Abuela’s house — bearing a generous gift of take-out, a preemptive apology for the stories Abuela’s about to hear — and Wade’s hovering anxiously on a very open, often-visited rooftop. He’s waiting for Spidey to show up because he’s too nervous and jittery to actively hunt him down. He didn’t even stop to buy any food for the two of them, mostly because he won’t be able to bear it if Spidey doesn’t stay long enough to eat it with him.
He knows he’s being anxious for no reason. Probably for no reason.
[It’s better to think of every possible horrible scenario. That way when one happens, you don’t have to be surprised.]
{Have we considered the option that Spider-Man might’ve only acted chill yesterday because there was a kid present?}
Wade groans, sinking into a crouch and hugging his knees.
“No,” he admits.
He was fine last night. Actually, he was fine up until he dropped Ellie off. But ever since he’s been alone with his thoughts, they’ve been spiraling.
Spidey didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night. And Webs is a good guy — would he really get upset over Wade not telling him that he has a daughter in the first place?
[Not openly.]
{Maybe he’d just resent you silently.}
[He might not want to get involved with someone who has a kid.]
{That’s a lot of responsibility. And Spider-Man isn’t all that old himself.}
[Right. Isn’t he like 26?]
Wade shakes his head. Begone, thought! “We don’t know that,” he hisses. At least, he doesn’t know that on purpose. Wade accidentally has a whole wealth of little-to-unknown Spidey facts, just because his brain is constantly making connections whether he wants it to or not. But if he’s not supposed to know something about Spidey, he always does his darndest to forget it.
[To think, we only just got to touch da booty.]
{He’s going to let us down easy. Say that he liked us before when he was dating one person, not two.}
[He’s not dating Ellie.]
{Yeah, but he’s not just having a fling with us either. Getting involved with us means getting involved with Ellie.}
“Not true,” Wade murmurs. “I’ll always be her dad. Webs doesn’t have to step in at all if he doesn’t want to.”
[But would you love Spidey the same if he wouldn’t want to be there for her?]
{Could you ever be truly happy if you couldn’t share the best parts of your life with each other?}
[It’s over. We all know it.]
{I guess we can just be glad that we got to make out with him a few times.}
“Shut up,” Wade hisses. “We don’t know anything yet!”
The boxes start speaking over each other, creating a racket inside Wade’s head, and Wade abruptly stands back up, pacing quickly along the roof. He tries to ignore them, shaking his head like he might shake the voices right out of his ears if he tries hard enough.
He doesn’t know anything yet. Spidey could show up and be excited that Wade has a kid. He might want to meet her, for real, and come over for a proper dinner with the two of them.
Everything’s up in the air! He just has to stop thinking about it before he even truly knows anything. Fuck.
“There you are!” Spidey’s voice comes brightly at the very same moment that his feet land lightly on the roof. Wade whirls around to face him, the boxes suddenly going silent.
“Hey,” Wade breathes. His toe is twitching. Also his calf. He’s standing completely still otherwise, but he’s suddenly infused with restless energy that’s screaming at him to do anything. He feels like he needs to run and jump off the roof, just to get his adrenaline pumping.
Instead, he stays right where he is, as if he’s totally calm, and struggles to take normal breaths. “How are you?” he says. Normal person greeting.
“Not bad,” Spidey says. He walks toward Wade, grabs his hand as he passes, and leads them both to the edge of the roof. When Wade follows his lead and sits down, Spidey immediately leans against him. “Although, work was brutal today. Three different customers yelled at me.”
Customers.
[Spidey works with customers!]
{He probably works in the service industry. A place where customers might yell at employees.}
God dammit.
“That sucks,” Wade says. “Customers are assholes.”
“Eh, not all of ‘em,” Spidey says. “How was your day?”
“Good,” Wade says. “I made pancakes for Ellie this morning,” he adds, careful. “And then we watched Up. She didn’t cry at the beginning, though. She’s insane.”
Spidey snorts. “That heathen,” he jokes.
Wade’s fingers are twitching now. His whole body is stiff and tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He stops chewing on his tongue, because he knows himself too well and if he keeps at it, he might accidentally chew it off. Uh, not that he’s ever done that before.
“So?” Wade blurts.
“So?” Spidey echoes, confused rather than accusatory.
Something has to explode. And if it’s not going to be Wade bursting into all kinds of erratic movements, then it’s gotta be his mouth. “So, what’s the deal? We’re kind-of-almost-maybe dating, and yesterday you found out I have a kid. While also finding out that I’m apparently sucky enough as a parent to get her kidnapped. And I don’t know how you feel about any of that or if you’re mad that I never told you in the first place.”
“Of course, I’m not mad,” Webs says. He shifts, moving so that he can face Wade rather than lean against him. That means it’s a Serious Talk. “We’re in a dangerous business — it’s okay that we’ve hid things from each other. I mean, I trust you more than anyone else in the world, but I still haven’t shown you my face.”
Wade’s brain goes ahead and plays that about a hundred times on repeat. I trust you more than anyone else in the world.
Joy bubbles up in Wade’s chest and escapes in the form of a giggle. He leans into Spidey, unable to tamp down his grin. “I wanted to tell you,” Wade admits. “But I just couldn’t. I don’t know why.”
“That’s okay,” Spidey says. “She seems really sweet.”
Wade snorts. “She’s never that shy,” he says. “But she’s freakin’ obsessed with you. She talked about you all night long.”
Spidey laughs. He does little happy kicks against the wall. “I’m glad she liked me,” he says. Soft.
“I’m glad you know,” Wade admits. It’s like a weight off his shoulders. At least he doesn’t have to string Spidey along, constantly wondering how he’ll react when he eventually finds out.
Webs clears his throat. “Actually,” he says. “Um. I kind of, accidentally, already knew.”
Wade freezes. Now he’s the one to shift away from Webs, turning to face him again.
“What? How?”
Spidey wrings his hands together. “I ran into you guys in public.”
Wade takes a second to process that.
“What?” he blurts. “Like, public public? Like, you weren’t in costume, public?”
Spidey laughs. It sounds a little nervous. “Yeah,” he says.
“OhmyGod,” Wade breathes. “Did I see you? Holy fuck, did I talk to you?”
“Yeah,” Spidey says. Wade’s brain implodes. He fucking saw Spider-Man?! And he didn’t realize?
“Wha— how? When? Where? Oh my God. Oh my God!”
Spidey giggles. And then, without any warning at all, he reaches up and tugs his mask off. Wade gapes.
“Cute barista,” he says. “You’re cute barista!”
“Peter,” Spidey offers.
“Peter,” Wade says. “Oh my God.” And then, “Wait! Is that why you stopped avoiding me?”
Peter blushes. It looks so much cuter when you can see his whole face. He buries his face in his hands — no! — and groans. “Yeah,” he says. “I realized that you must’ve been talking to Ellie on the phone, that one time.”
“I can’t believe I saw you in public,” Wade says. “You you. You’re adorable, holy shit.”
Peter unburies his head, blushing even harder now, and — yep. Wade’s gonna get addicted to this. He’s going to need to see those rosy cheeks at all times, thanks. He tugs his own mask up abruptly, reaching for Peter, who comes easily.
Peter sighs into the kiss and Wade groans, holding him closer. His blood is thrumming, practically vibrating through his veins, and Wade feels so happy he could cry.
When he pulls away, he’s grinning. Peter’s grinning too.
“Does this mean I get to finally see your apartment which totally isn’t above a sandwich shop in Queens?”
Peter groans, collapsing against Wade with silent laughter. Wade just holds him closer, feeling perfectly, totally happy.