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“Well, well, well.”
The sound of footsteps on stone echoed around the empty hall.
“What do we have here?”
Wade tried to look around and peter but being chained up, back to back wasn’t helping.
“He does realise we met him before when he tied us up, right?”
Spidey let out a long suffering sigh.
“Nothing to say Spider-Man?”
Wade was pretty sure he heard Spidey’s eyes roll. He wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible. Maybe his irritation was so palpable it was affecting his aura, or something witchy like that. Can’t Wanda do that? The glowey red eye thing definitely gave off ‘I’m-very-angry-and-going-to-kill-you’ vibes.
Peter didn’t seem like he was talking so Wade decided to jump in.
“Do you have a Russian accent?”
What a stereotype.
“No, I am Sokovian-”
Another stereotype.
“Let me guess, your family died because of the Avengers.”
The guy looked really upset. To be fair he did just mock his dead family. That tends to offend people. He really should have learnt after the last guy…
“No, my dog was crushed to death by your American machinery!” Tears stung the edges of his eyes, his fist shaking at the heavens in fury.
“Your dog?!” Spider-Man finally splutters his way into the conversation. “You kidnapped us because of your dog?!”
“Yes.” A very dignified response.
“What does that have to do with us?!”
He puffed his chest out like a peacock. Perfect Parker had perfectly teed him up for a villain monologue. Absolutely not. Not on Wade’s watch.
“I will use you to get into the hearts of the Avengers, just like the death of my dog broke my-”
“Are you sure you’re not Russian.”
He lets out an offended squawk.
“Because you sound really Russian.”
“I am Von Whilhelm the second of the fourth house of Sokavia and I will not..”
Don’t worry, he’s definitely still talking. Wade just couldn’t be bothered to listen. So, he whispered over his shoulder to Peter.
“Do you want to get hotdogs after this?”
“Wade…”
“The place near the shop with the sign, always has green stuff on it?”
“The place on fifth?”
“Do you just have an encyclopaedic knowledge of hotdog stands?”
“Yes, so?”
Oh, he really thought Wade was judging him for that?
“No no, I’m just impressed.”
There was a pause as Von what’s-his-face continued. Wade tilted his head back again, to Spidey.
“I’m Canadian.” He added.
Peter sighed. Not the same kind of sigh from before, but more of an internal disappointment, like he just lost his keys.
“How did my life end up here? I used to be an Avenger.”
“I’m not sure if I should be offended or not.”
Peter continued.
“I mean, I had a life, before. Like, with friends and shit, a family, but I through it away because of a stupid spell, because I thought I could do better. And now I’m stuck in a cave, chained to a chair with you-”
“Hey!”
“I’m supposed to be in school-”
“Are you listening?”
Right. Villain guy was still here. Honestly, serves Peter right. What was that? A soliloquy? This is a written format, use inner dialogue. Jeez.
Peter replied.
“Honestly, no.”
Footsteps echo once more as the man takes steps towards them. Green velvet shifting shades in the dingy light. He picks up a syringe from the table across from them. It's empty. He wants blood. Soft clinks pierce the air as he sets the needle in the device, and-
“Wait!” Wade whisper shouts. “Can’t you just break the chains?”
“What? Oh, yeah, but the pressure would cave your chest in, and well, you kind of need that to attach to everything else.”
“I don’t care! Just do it!”
“This is a new suit I don’t want to get blood on it. Plus, how would you eat your hotdog without a stomach?”
Wade couldn’t tell if he was just trying to find an excuse to get out of this.
“THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT!? I COULD STILL TASTE IT!”
Peter considered it for a split second before giving in. Ha, just like Wade’s chest was about to do.
“Fine. But you’re paying.”
And with that a large, squish, squash and a crack echoed through the hall.
“Oh, God!”
Mr Green Suit lost all colour from his face.
“Why? oh, God!” He was probably thinking of his dog, or at least that was Wade’s headcannon.
The guy let out a cry, and promptly fainted.
“Well, that ended nicely.” Wade’s head commented from the floor.
Spidey looked round for cameras then pulled his mask up.
“Dude, you look like yellow snow’s evil brother.”
“Come on, pick me up.”
Peter looked grossed out.
“Oh, come on! You can’t severe a guy’s head and not take him out for hotdogs.”
Spider-Man let out a sigh, much similar to his first, and picked up Wade’s head like a basketball.
“We going to the place on fifth?”
“Nah, the one of seventh’s much better.”
“Blasphemy!”
“Go complain to Matt about it. Anyways, you can’t pick our stop, you don’t have legs.”
ooOOOoo
And if a series of civilian’s nights were slightly ruined by the sight of Spider-Man feeding hotdogs to Deadpool’s bloody head, no-one was going to mention it. They were too scared of when he got his arms back.
Heard the guys good with a knife.