Work Text:
Peter was trying to capture Rhino—a self-made metal bull loose in a China shop—when he spotted a figure that seemed a little more than coincidentally similar to his own.
Spider-Man was fairly well known. He had the proof to back it up, horrifyingly. So, copycats had popped up before. Admittedly, not many would stand on rooftops in the middle of winter, but stranger things have happened.
Usually it was someone who wanted clout, or to reveal their face dramatically before Peter swung by to web their face. Sometimes a copycat wanted faux-appreciation, or maybe free favors and food from New York civilians who were thankful for the real Spider-Man. Copycats went for bright blue and red, though, not dull tones.
This copycat didn't look like they tried to replicate him all that well. Peter glanced up from his fight with Aleksei momentarily, watching as the white eyes of the other red-suited person widened when Peter looked toward him.
Honestly, it could just be a fan, but if that was true, then his infamous Peter Tingle wouldn't be warning him about it. Whoever was dressed up in that black and red leather suit on the roof of the building overlooking Spider-Man's fight with Aleksei wasn't weak—his spidey-sense was ringing in alarm that this copycat could kill him.
But the ringing was dull. It reminded Peter of how it warned him of Norman Osborn, or rather, the Green Goblin from Peter 2's universe.
Peter needed to shift his focus from Rhino to the unknown copycat, so he chose to end this as soon as he could. He temporarily used more strength than normal, stopping Aleksei where he was, which dug up the street and would make the Bugle rant about his excessive property damage reports again.
This wasn't a liked maneuver by anyone, including him. Holding onto a rampaging metal death suit meant Peter would be sore for at least 16 hours—or more, if he continued to patrol, as he tended to do.
However, he had to do what was best for himself and New York. Spider-Man needed to be critical of power levels, and right now, he knew that Rhino was less of an opponent than the copycat.
If he got hurt doing this, then other vigilantes could fill in for him during patrol—but the guy in the red and black suit had enough power to do more harm than anything else, and Peter wasn't sure who to call to help him handle it.
Peter wrapped his webs around Rhino's body, and then pulled tight, watching as small sparks flew and metal ground loudly.
He used to be told to capture his little rogue gallery—the sinisters or whatever they were calling themselves—while intact. Damage Control wanted to be able to piece together their machines and weapons. There was no need to do that anymore now that they didn't operate together.
Since Spider-Man didn't need to keep Rhino's machine in good condition, he crushed it, laying his feet where the belly would be, and yanked at the limbs. He enjoyed it, just a little, knowing that the DoDC would know that he was purposely rough with the gear so that they had a difficult time rebuilding it for themselves.
The man inside the machine let out a few noises, but Peter was careful to target areas that wouldn't harm the operator. Aleksei would be fine—and once he was out of the suit and webbed up for the police, Peter could go after his copycat.
As he began to remove the main opening to get Aleksei out, Peter heard the sound of sirens approaching. They were taking their time today, huh?
"I won't forgive you for this, Spider-Man," Aleksei mumbled as Peter, without any further ado, picked him out of the wreckage and webbed him to the street.
Peter shook his head. "I don't expect forgiveness, you know this. I don't really want it, either. If anything, I want an apology. Why do you rampage just for me to beat you up again? I could have done so many other things in the time it took me to track you down."
Aleksei looked disgusted, even as a bruise slowly formed across his cheek. "Spider-Man does not understand."
Peter was glad he didn't. Why terrorize a city when it hadn't done anything to you? Some backstories, he could comprehend. He'd empathize with those people. But there came a point where harming others just didn't make sense—when there was no justice to be found.
The sound of sirens turned louder, and just as Peter looked up from the Rhino, he saw Detective Dewolff's vehicle. He waved at her, giving an all-clear. She parked and exited the vehicle with only slight trepidation as she looked at the wrecked street.
She walked over to Aleksei, ordering her officers to take Rhino in as she observed the scene.
Peter planned to leave Dewolff and start back toward the man in that black and red suit, but she looked at him expectantly. Peter had to decide what to do. He quickly glanced up to the rooftop where his copycat was, only to see no one there.
Alright, so she wanted a debrief and the copycat was gone. It was fine to do that; Peter would find the copycat sooner or later. Exchanging information was standard, anyway, so he should have expected this.
Peter was tempted to dip so that he could figure out where the guy in a suit disappeared to, but sucked in a deep breath as he told himself to do what any other person would.
He nervously prattled over, unsure why he was anxious when he was going to meet one of his closest allies. His spidey-sense wasn't going off anymore. He was safe, yet it felt like someone was still watching him.
“Hey, Spidey,” Dewolff greeted him with her normal cadence, but her tone was off. “Are you feeling alright? You're not going to kick around cars and hurt anyone?”
Peter stumbled over his words, realizing his actions could be mistaken for how he acted when his arachnid hormones went up, and he had little to no control to how he felt. “N– No, of course not. That… That was a fluke. I'm fine now.”
Everything was handled. If anything happened again, again, Peter could rely on MJ and Ned—and if that wasn't enough, they had Frank's number for emergencies.
Dewolff stared at him for a long moment before she nodded, seemingly confident he was being truthful.
“That's good, that's good...” Dewolff then pressed her lips together. She leaned toward him and said in a low tone, “Just watch out for yourself. I've heard a merc came to town and it's best if you use those eyes in the back of your head to stay safe.”
“A mercenary?” Peter clarified.
He didn't get why he was being warned about a mercenary. He had put dozens away, all when they tried to complete a job. They tended to be ruthless—and injure him at a higher rate—but Dewolff seemed oddly concerned for just that.
“Look, he's not just any mercenary. Deadpool is known for leaving a trail of bodies. He might seem easygoing, but that’s just ‘cause he's messed up in the head. He'll turn on you in a moment. You need to steer clear of him.”
Peter's brow furrowed. “Shouldn't I be trying to capture him so you can arrest him?”
Dewolff just gave him a hard look. “We can't contain him. He's a meta, or at least he has abilities. We turn a blind eye when we can, 'cause in the end, more lives are saved. It'll be more chaos and make a bloody mess if we tried to take him in. It's best to let Deadpool do as he pleases—as long as there are no bodies—before leaving New York again for his next job.”
There was no plan on arresting a known murderous mercenary? Peter tried to understand, but Dewolff's suggestions left him conflicted. Should he dig up information on Deadpool anyway, just in case?
“I'll… I'll do my best to avoid any trouble,” he told her.
Dewolff practically sighed out all of her stress. Whatever tension was in her shoulders relaxed. She smiled at him and Peter cringed inwardly.
“You're a good kid,” Dewolff told him. “Don't involve yourself with madmen who can't be reasoned with.”
Peter didn't bother stopping by his place for food. He knew that his fridge was empty, or that it only had mustard and relish in it. If he wanted to actually eat something to help heal up from his Rhino encounter, then he needed to go where it smelled good.
He crept inside the unlatched window in Ned and MJ's living area. He closed it behind him gently, listening for any heartbeats. He heard two familiar rhythmic patterns, so they were both home.
Peter took off his mask and walked into the kitchen, toward the sound of Ned singing along to a hip-hop song that was playing from his phone speakers. Ned was halfway through a verse when Peter casually came in from behind.
"Do you have enough ingredients to make two?"
Ned yelped, flinging himself backwards, straight into Peter's shoulder—which only made Ned flinch again before he finally met Peter face-to-face. Ned began to curse under his breath, only for Michelle to round the corner.
"Can you make that three?" Michelle set down her purse on the kitchen counter, giving the old, wilted flowers in the vase next to her a hard look. She glanced back at Ned and supplied, "I'm ravenous; I've got to find a way to make a better breakfast."
Ned looked between Michelle and Peter, then laughed to himself in disbelief. “Menaces, the both of you.”
Michelle must have come home for lunch. Her job was fairly demanding, and it wasn't exactly close by, or had the option to do it remotely. She didn't stop by for lunch on her break often, so there must be a reason for it.
Taking a floppy piece of bread from the stack that Ned was working with, Peter ate it as he slid in to sit at the counter like Michelle. She barely gave him a glance, focused on looking at her phone.
Peter nudged her shoulder, only for her to look up with a steady gaze and ask, "Do you talk to other people?"
Ned groaned. "Damn, MJ, really throwing the punches today."
Peter just blinked at his friends. Were they asking— "I hang with other people."
"Do you, though?" Ned asked skeptically. Peter threw the hard corner of his bread slice at Ned.
Michelle sighed through her nose, laid her hand down on the counter, and said, "I'm serious, Peter. Do you spend any quality time with people other than us?"
Peter was flabbergasted. Not because he didn't expect to be questioned on this one day, but because he thought he had more time before he was told he was too clingy. Did he need to stop coming by so often?
"I'm worried," Michelle continued, forcing her way through Peter's defenses. "You… You still patrol a lot. Maybe if you put yourself out there and made some more friends, you wouldn't be getting hurt all the time."
Peter paused as he processed Michelle's words. Ned gave them wary glances and continued to make sandwiches, listening in intently without adding more commentary.
That's when Peter realized why Michelle was home. "Did you see an article about Rhino?"
Michelle turned hesitant, sitting up straighter. "I—"
"So this is about me helping people."
"You know it's not."
Peter breathed out, staring at Michelle's face. He knew he was being unfair, but wasn't Michelle being unfair too? Peter was doing better. He had his two best friends back, even if their memories weren't really all there. He got to spend time with them in ways he never thought would happen again.
Wasn't it okay to enjoy the moment, and not fast-forward?
"I just—" Michelle spoke carefully, starting and stopping. "I think you would do better mentally and physically if you had more downtime in between patrols. That's all I'm saying. However you choose to interpret that, just know it comes from the way I care for you. You deserve to be looked after. "
"You want me to go on a dating app?" Peter asked, sounding scandalized.
Michelle looked stressed. "N– No. Not exactly."
"Maybe," said Ned.
"Not helping," Michelle hissed at him in a whisper.
Peter shouldn't have stopped by for a sandwich. He should have flopped down in his own bed and fallen asleep to heal his body instead of being put through this awkward encounter.
Ned argued, "If Peter wants to find love, then we should encourage him on his quest —"
"Peter's never said anything about feeling comfortable with that. And I'm more focused on getting him to make friends."
"We could invite Flash over…?"
Peter gaped at Ned, while Michelle actually gave a thoughtful look. "That could work—"
"Nope!" Peter vetoed it instantly. "I am not having this conversation. Flash isn't a bad guy but…"
"What's wrong with him?" Michelle asked, looking at Peter curiously.
Peter forgot that she didn't know. She couldn't have known his past with Flash. She didn't have her memories.
"Oh, dude," Ned said, placing a sandwich on a plate as he looked at MJ. "Flash is obsessed with Spider-Man, you know?"
Michelle hummed confirmation. "It's difficult not to notice his hard-on for, er…" She gestured to Peter.
"That's the wild thing, MJ. Flash adored Spider-Man, while actively teasing Peter every day in class—"
Peter stood up. He couldn't maintain his friendship with them if they continued to talk about this. It was better to leave this conversation than ruin their relationship.
"I will get out of your hair," Peter said professionally, sliding off of the stool so he could make his escape.
"Hey, wait, at least take your sandwich!" Ned said, offering the one he just plated. "There's no bugs in it, by the way."
Beggars couldn't be choosers. Peter swiped it up with a muffled thanks, and then slid on his mask so the top part of his face was covered.
"We just want you to socialize, Peter!" Michelle called out after him. "Getting a hobby wouldn't be so bad, either!"
He ignored that he then proceeded to overhear Ned telling Michelle about his high school days. Flash was a prick, but at least he was never physical. Midtown wouldn't have stood for that. And fuck, maybe they were right. As soon as he heard Ned mention him again, Peter suddenly felt like it had been too long since he last heard from Flash.
He knew his friends meant well. They never wished harm for him or toward him. Peter was luckier than most.
So maybe he should try to do as Michelle suggested, and make a new friend.
"Are you following me for a reason? I don't mind it too much, but honestly, all the staring is making me nervous. I'm a private guy, you know?"
Peter had spent the past 3 hours being followed by his leather-clad copycat. It was making him feel nauseous recently, like he was on the cusp of sensory overload. Peter didn't want it getting to that point, so he decided to confront his fears.
The copycat stood in front of him on the roof. Now that Peter was up close, the man was broader than him. Taller, too. Honestly, everything about the copycat seemed to nearly double Peter's own size.
His spidey-sense was abnormally quiet, though.
"If you're a fan, I don't mind you asking for a picture, but please don't stalk my patrol—"
The man suddenly let out a high-pitched noise. "You mean that? Oh lord, he means that! Spidey will let me? Oh, Sweet Louisiana, I can't believe it!" He shook his head to himself, but was vibrating in excitement. "I'm the one who gets a selfie with Spidey. Leave everyone else out of it."
"Are you… okay?" Peter asked, hovering just a few steps away.
"I am having the moment of my lifetime, that's all." The copycat fanned himself with his hand. "I never thought you'd come up to me willingly. I was considering hunting you down! Ahahaha…"
Peter chuckled nervously.
Was this not a copycat? But no… This guy sounded like a fan. He even wanted a selfie! Peter pushed away his nerves. He had interacted with all types of people before. He shouldn't worry so much about this interaction.
"I'd never hurt you," the man claimed all of a sudden. He then looked down. "Hush. I'd never do that to Spidey, unless—"
"So!" Peter chirped, not wanting to stay out in the cold for too long. "What's your name? I could sign something if a photo isn't enough."
The man seemed shell-shocked. He paused his muttering to gape at Peter. Then, abruptly, the white of his eyes widened considerably, and he said, "It would be my honor to tell you who I am. I am—!"
He stopped. He deflated, and placed his hand to his chin in thought.
He murmured a few things before deciding, "Spidey deserves an actual name, not a title!" The copycat placed out his hand. "Wade's my name. Wade Wilson, known for never shutting the eff up. Ever. Not even now! This brain goes on forever, just endless thoughts. Running faster than a hamster attempting to flee their little plastic ball."
"Nice to meet you, Wade," Peter said, shaking his hand. "You want a photo, right? Where's your phone?"
Obediently, after pulling back his hand—and staring at his glove for a few seconds—the copycat pulled a smartphone out of his suit. Peter couldn't figure out where it came from, but he wouldn't complain. He'd seen too many weird things in his life to question a man's pockets.
"Oh em gee," the copycat said repeatedly under his breath as Peter stepped closer so that he could fit in the frame. When he clicked on the screen—which he did repeatedly, adjusting his pose for every two clicks—he said with vigor, "I am going to make all of those Flamin' Hot Cheeto bitches jealous."
Peter didn't understand half the things that were said, but he smiled anyway. His copycat sure had a personality! Most copycats were so freaked out by actually meeting him, that Peter never got to have a real conversation with them because they'd forget what they wanted to say.
Peter stepped back because an entire minute had passed. Wade let out a disheartened sigh from the action, closing out of his camera, only to bring his phone to his face as he went through his photo gallery.
Peter contemplated what to do next—leave while he could, or stick around just in case the copycat wasn't satisfied with just a photo or two.
As Peter thought about jumping off the building to swing to the next one, Wade suddenly turned to him. "You are my hero," he swore, sounding desperate and enthralled.
"That's nice—"
"Can I follow you for the rest of your patrol?" Wade asked in a string of impulsive sentences. "You're just so— You're amazing! I've been studying you these last few days, and I think I've learned more from you than I have from anyone else in my life! You have a good heart. I want to see if I can replicate it, even if it's dogshit in comparison. I'm thinking I can get a little better than I am now. Trying is what's good, right?"
How was Peter supposed to say 'no' to that?
He settled on, "As long as you can keep up and don't get in the way of any fights, then… sure. Why not?"
It's not like Wade would be able to anyway. Peter swung from building to building. Vehicles had a hard time of keeping up with him. Wade, who didn't have any sort of flying device or vehicle, wouldn't be able to do much. Peter would wave him goodbye, at the very least, as he left Wade in the dust.
Wade cheered as Peter jumped off the roof of the building.
Peter smiled to himself—and then he had E.V. guide him on where to go next. There was a car chase. Peter hadn't been in one of those in a few weeks. He quickly went there, landed on top of the leading car, and pulled the driver out.
As Peter waited around for the officers to catch up, he turned around to see Wade waving from across the street on the pavement.
Ah… Wade was actually quite good at keeping up with him. Who would have thought? Not Peter, that's for sure. He underestimated Wade. Maybe the guy would follow Peter's patrol until it ended.
"Do you like burritos?"
"I love them," Peter admitted.
Wade grinned—Peter didn't know for sure, but Wade radiated glee—and said as he tapped his fingers against the air, "I know just the spot."
Maybe this whole making-a-friend thing was easier than Peter thought it was. He was intimidated about this for no reason. Wade was such a nice guy, too! Maybe his suit wasn't even a copycat of Spider-Man's. Wade could be a vigilante just like him!
Peter was riding an adrenaline high. Michelle was always right; he should have known this from the start. But, Peter would bet that even Michelle wouldn't guess that Peter made a new friend so fast.
As they ended the night, eating burritos off of the ledge of a building Peter didn't know the name of, Wade said, "We should do this again, Spidey. Same time tomorrow?"
Peter didn't disagree. Instead, he hummed and nodded his head. "Sounds good."
When Peter finally turned in for the night, he was exhausted. He stayed out longer than he anticipated. He'd admit, he had more fun having someone to patrol with. Sure, Wade didn't engage in any of the fights, but just having someone keep him company felt comforting—in a soul-settling kind of way.
He had barely dragged himself home before he heard his name being called. He stopped walking forward and quickly backtracked. He entered Ned and Michelle's apartment.
"Peter, hey, Peter! Someone left a message for you on my computer," Ned said in greeting.
Peter, who was planning to hang up his suit for the night, picked his mask back up and trekked over to Ned. He made a small pit stop to refill the flowers in the case on the kitchen counter. Ned gave them a happy glance before he focused back on Peter.
"What message?" asked Peter.
"It's… kind of a crazy-looking one. I didn't even know they'd contact me again."
Peter followed Ned back to his setup. Ned sat down and pulled up the video message, looking back up at Peter excitedly.
A blonde filled the screen. The current Black Widow, manager of all potatoes, had sent him a message. Peter was slightly concerned that Yelena tracked down Ned's computer, but she could have done worse… Actually, no. Peter didn't like that Yelena knew that Ned was in contact with him consistently.
Ned looked up at Peter with starry eyes, so Peter swallowed back his nerves and said, "Do it."
With a click, the video began to play. Ned practically vibrated in excitement at being contacted by a hero.
"Spider-Man, Spidey, mysterious spider of men… Whatever you prefer to be called outside of the mask, and in—" Yelena's attitude suddenly changed from somewhat thoughtful to serious, "—we need to talk. Meet me at my office as soon as possible. Preferably before I am called away again. These problems never cease."
His gut churned in unease. If Yelena was personally reaching out to him, there had to be a large threat… Or she wanted to confirm his identity. Neither was good.
It ended up being neither. Wasn't Peter lucky?
The air was humid and hot, just like Yelena wanted it to be. Peter saw her point of why she preferred meeting in a bathhouse. It was a neutral zone. No weapons could be shown when they had to sit in the steaming water with nothing but a towel for coverage—or nothing at all.
"Spider-Man," Yelena greeted, sitting up tall in the water. She seemed to be inspecting him more than she did last time. "Are you still going to—"
"I will be right out," Peter confirmed, waddling inside a bath stall to change.
He kept his mask on. Even if Yelena tracked down Ned's computer, she might not know who he was. Peter Parker wasn't exactly tied to Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones. He had to continue hoping nothing was wrong.
Peter exited, towel hanging around his hips. He sank into the water, and this time, he did his best not to automatically float up. It was too awkward last time; he wouldn't repeat past mistakes.
"Is this necessary?" Yelena asked, almost rhetorically. When Peter just stared at her from behind his mask, she continued. "You came quickly. Appreciating one's time is important."
Peter didn't feel the need to say anything out loud. Yelena was bigger than him—she dealt with threats that he wouldn't be assigned. Peter well and truly turned into the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and he wanted to remain that way.
"I'll get on with it," Yelena obliged. "It was brought to our attention—"
"Who is 'our'?" asked Peter.
Yelena gave him a hard stare. Peter gulped and fell silent.
"It was brought to our attention that you have been interacting with someone dangerous." Yelena didn't change her stance, but her voice was strong, like she was going to give him an order he had to follow. "Spider-Man was caught on camera interacting with Deadpool."
Peter froze, going wide-eyed. "Deadpool?" he questioned, ignoring the way his heart raced.
"Deadpool," Yelena confirmed. "You are Spider-Man, not a mercenary. You are not an anti-villain. You never explored other career options. Understand why we are concerned?"
"I don't…" Peter waved his hand over the water. "I haven't done anything like that. I barely do anything outside of patrol, and I would know if I met someone as dangerous as—"
"You patrolled with him," Yelena stated.
Cold seeped into Peter's veins. "What?"
"The man in black. And red." Yelena tilted her head toward him. "Did you not know? That man in the suit. That man is Deadpool, and he has killed more meta and enhanced humans than you'll guess."
"But the guy who is Deadpool—allegedly—didn't attempt to harm me," Peter argued, feeling like he was caught in a lie. He was panicking.
God, was this why his spidey-sense kept going off around Wade?
"He is…" Yelena thought over how to word it. "Deadpool is an intimidating man. A hot potato, you could say."
Peter furrowed his brow in confusion. "As in attractive, or—"
"As in, throw the hot potato as far as you can before it burns you." Yelena sank lower in the water, seemingly pleased that this conversation was nearing its end. "Stay away from Deadpool, or at least don't have us bury you after you piss him off."
Peter nodded quickly. "Good talk," he said, pushing himself out of the water.
He fled.
It was not his proudest moment. He got back in the suit, and pretended that his body didn't feel better after a hot soak. He should find more reasons to visit Yelena often, if not for the free visit to rest his aching bones.
Peter didn't sleep well that night. At breakfast, Michelle noticed it. She poked him in the side and Peter flinched. She frowned at him knowingly. Peter reacted to most things, unless his attention was drawn to something else.
He put on a smile and worked his way through breakfast. He then said goodbye to his friends and went to start his first round of patrol for the day.
And almost as foretold, Wade was waiting in his suit on top of the roof where Peter first saw him yesterday. He felt no tingle, so Wade not being a threat to him had continued. Maybe Yelena was wrong. What if Wade was simply wearing a similar suit to Deadpool?
… Yeah, Peter wasn't that lucky.
"Spidey!" Wade waved at him theatrically. "I had, for a moment, believed I had been forgotten, like a breeze in the wind." He paused, looking up at the sky before rolling his eyes. "Whatever, man. People can get busy. Spidey's no different."
Peter supposed some of Yelena's words were true. Wade certainly didn't act or say things that a normal person would, but—
But what if he wasn't as terrifying as he was made out to be? Dewolff said that Deadpool had been left to his own devices for years, basically. How would any of them know if Wade was as dangerous as rumors made him out to be?
"Wade," Peter began hesitantly, "can I ask you a sensitive question?"
"How sensitive?" Wade asked instantly. "Like, electrical shock or about down there—"
"Personal," Peter said tightly.
"Ohhh. That's a tough one, guys." Wade only paused to breathe, not taking much time at all to decide next steps. "But, alright, ask away, since it's Spidey and all."
It was so easy. Peter felt bad, for just a moment, for having to ask this question. Dewolff and Yelena both made it seem obvious that Peter would know who Deadpool was. Peter was in the wrong here, wasn't he? He's the one who didn't know any better.
"Do you go by Deadpool?" Peter asked. His heart thudded against his ribcage, trying to break out of his body. "And… have you killed people?"
Wade went stock-still. His loose body language suddenly tightened, tension filling his body as he spun around before lasering his gaze back on Peter.
"You didn't know?" he asked in a low whisper. "That's why you were so nice to me—Goddammit!" Wade stepped away, kicking his foot into the nearest object, which ended up being the ledge of the building.
Concrete fell away, crumbling down into the alley below.
Wade's presence grew thicker, his agitation clear, but Peter didn't hear any warnings. Deadpool—Wade—wasn't a threat to him. Wade had only ever watched Spider-Man, he never attempted to harm him or gain anything from this.
"Fuck, I knew it went too well last night—"
"Wade. Wade," Peter said, trying to soothe the situation. "I just wanted to check—"
"What is there to check?" Wade turned to him, voice cool. "You already know, don't cha, babe? I'm unforgivable. Forgive me, Father, for I have—"
"Do you plan on still killing people!?" Peter blurted out.
Wade stopped, whipping his head toward Peter so fast that Peter could hear bones and muscles crack. Wade stared at Peter. The lag felt like it took forever.
Peter breathed out unevenly. He explained, "You were perfectly kind to me yesterday. I don't… I don't mind continuing this. Patrolling together sometimes, if that's what works. Just— I won't let you kill anyone in front of me."
"I'd never want to get blood on you," Wade responded quickly, like he had never been silent.
There must be truth in that statement, because Peter felt settled. Wade wasn't causing his head to ache or ring. There wasn't a threat to alert him of.
He eased up, knowing there was nothing to be afraid of. Peter's heart calmed, slowing down its rapid pace.
"So you agree?" Peter asked. "When we patrol together, no killing."
Wade dociely bobbed his head up and down.
Peter felt relief fill his body, the smile that formed on his face wide and reassuring.
This wouldn't end up like Norman Osborn. His spidey-sense wasn't registering any lies or deceit; there was nothing for Peter to be wary of. Wade was telling the truth, so of course, Peter had to give him a chance.