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“Last month’s rent and this month’s rent…” Peter mutters to himself, the clutter on his small table seemingly getting more and more out of hand. He skims through the text on the piece of paper he holds, jaw clenching harder when he realizes his life is going to get 10 times more complicated. “And not an ounce of sympathy. Heartless as always…” he grunts in the silence.Like adding insult to injury, the landlord also expects him to cover all maintenance bills by the end of the next week. Maintenance he personally worked on, not just in his apartment.He sighs tiredly as he takes off his glasses and throws it among the mess of papers. His thumb and forefinger rub the lids of his bloodshot eyes, a result of the many sleepless nights he’s spent trying to scrape together the money he needs.He’s one more letter away from being evicted. Three overdue notices would make for an interesting accomplishment though. He’s never heard of a tenant staying longer than one. Peter scoffs, slumping lower into his chair with his neck craned back.In all seriousness though, he’s hanging by a fucking thread. And that man is threatening him with a pair of scissors.Tonight, he’s been crunching and rerunning the numbers on his dingy little table. His beat-up calculator has seen more action than he can say for himself. The last three hours have been exhausting and it’s almost 3 in the morning. So far, the only thing he’s been able to conclude is that Mr. Fish has been set on this earth to make his life a living hell.He’d need to sign his soul off for the next 2 years working some random graveyard shift in order to reach his goal.Obviously, minimum wage at the diner isn’t cutting it anymore. He’ll need to search for a second job. One that he can work around his first. But it won’t be easy.He smacks his cheeks lightly, urging his eyes to stay open a little longer. Peter pulls his laptop onto the table, something he’s very proud to own despite having mixed feeling about it. It’s just not running the way it used to, but he shouldn’t complain.“Let’s see what’s on Jobfinder” he cracks his fingers, preparing himself for another sleepless night.***Peter’s body has run dry by the fifth day. Caffeine has made for an unlikely friend these last few weeks –bitter taste and all – but it’s starting to let him down what with the way his feet keep dragging behind him.It’ll be a matter of time before someone finds him passed out on the sidewalk, and since this is New York, pedestrians are more likely to step all over him before realizing there’s a body under their feet. Maybe a few kind souls will have the decency to walk around him.But fainting is not a luxury he can afford. Not now anyway.He’s been called in for an interview at a bar and he’s not about to miss this chance. The sidewalks are caked with a thin layer of snow that’s more mud than snow. It’s sprinkled with trash and swaddled with that sewer like smell more commonly associated with the sketchy backstreets of New York the homeless often frequent.He’s not very careful about where he’s stepping and he’s long past any self-preservation when he quickly turns into a narrow alley that he’s sure has seen a great many sleazy dealings than he’d like to know.The walls here are covered in graffiti. Garbage bags have been piled on top of each other, lining the edges and reaching great heights. He can only imagine how faintly an officer of the law might feel if they ever find this slit of a walkway to see the ground littered with so many heroin syringes.When he reaches the other end of the alley, he walks for another 10 minutes, ducking in and out between buildings like he was playing a game of hide and seek until finally, he comes across a hole in the wall. It's vaguely missable if one is not looking and the street is seemingly abandoned but if Peter listens closely, he can catch the rambunctious sounds of chatter, music, and glasses knocking against each other.Steeling his nerves, remembering that his mind has been made up, he hurries the rest of the way to the door and prays all goes well. He needs this job.It’s lively considering its only 2 but when the urge is compelling, he doubts any drinker would care to know the time of day. He’s met with hardly any looks when he passes by patrons so he’s able to reach the bar counter quickly.He’s a little over the scheduled time to meet with the bar owner but when he’s just about to call to the woman manning the station, he hears a, “Can I help you?” to his left.Peter turns towards the nasal like voice, coming face to face with a scruffy man with shoulder length hair that’s unkept and dirty blonde. “Oh wait? Are you Peter?”, he cants his head to the side, gaze scanning him from head to toe. He smells like weed and his bad breath is laced with liquor so strong it disorients Peter for a second, but he regains himself quickly, not wanting to offend the man since he addressed by name.That could only mean one thing. He’s the bar owner. “Oh, y-yes, Peter. I’m Peter” He hastily sticks his hand out which the man easily takes but the look he gives him is confusing.“Well shit” he curses, “Did I just lure innocence to my den of wolves. Could’ve sworn I noted no younger than 18.”“What?” Peter blinks as he’s being pondered over. The man momentarily forgets his existence as he goes into a slew of mumbled conversations with himself.“…knew I should have stopped ‘Ness from posting that ad online. And here I thought I was going to worry about another skeeze ball drinking all my beer.”“Oh, no, no” Peter hastily interjects when he hears him go on the same way, fearing the worst as he sputters, “I’m 18, I swear, I’m definitely 18. I came with a resume and I’ve had past work experience”, he holds a manila folder up, shoving it into the man’s hand before adding, “I’ve worked night shifts before too. I’m available during the weekends. I’m good at working a register. I’m great at accounting, numbers and all that. I’ve also mixed drinks and- and I’ve waited tables. I can clean if those aren’t an option. Sweeping and mopping. Scraping gum off the bottom of tables. I’ll organize the bottles in your inventory if that’s what you want me to do. But if that’s not anything you’d like, I can fix a fridge, set up a TV or-or anything else that needs repairs. By the way, I think that light bulb needs to be replaced.”Peter blathers on like a loon for the next two minutes, nailing that sale’s pitch he'd practiced all morning in front of the mirror and bulldozing over the bar owner at every attempt he makes to speak up. Peter can’t have him say no. Not when he’s all out of options. He’ll be damned if a little age line is going to stop him from getting the job.“whoa-” the man’s eyes widen a tad bit, “Whoa, whoa- kid, kid, yoohoooo” he waves his hands up to him, trying to get him to settle but Peter doesn’t stop. “Where’s the off button, off button!” he cries, throwing the manila folder with his resume into the air – something he had worked so hard to create – and cupping about half his face to silence what he’s about to say next. “Stop, stop! Okay!”Peter blinks back at him with wide startled eyes, his glasses slipping down his nose but stopping to rest against the man’s hand. It smells like a mix of burger grease and fish…an overall unpleasant smell. His voice is muffled when he tries to ask him to let go but it only has the man squeezing harder.“A-tetetetetetete” he glares at him, other hand pointed at his face as it shakes with each utterance, “My turn. You just stay quiet. Now listen, I’ve made a terrible mistake, and I know you’re here now so that’s my bad, but I’m not looking to hire kids. Period. Especially not ones with ADHD looking like jailbait” he finally lets him go, giving Peter a chance to breathe again. “The dogs in here will eat you up and I can’t guarantee some shit head not trying anything with you. Never thought I’d see the day I’d care, but let’s just say I don’t want that on my conscious. So sorry but not sorry, this job ain’t for you. Now scram, I’ve got a lot a work to do and since I’m understaffed, I’m facing double the workload.”Peter’s throat tightens at the words “-but” he tries to get out, eyes growing glossy with unshed tears.“Nope!” he’s cut off, “This interview is over!” His hands clap in his face with a finality so unforeseen it stuns Peter for a moment. but when he turns to walk away, Peter jumps into action.“No wait!” he grabs the back of his shirt – an impulse really – and yanks him back harshly which causes the man to squawk lamely. “Please, p-please just give me a chance. You- you have no idea- I need-” his voice rattles desperately, a little breathless at this point but he pushes on, “I need this job. Every other one has turned me down and I- I can’t- I can’t-” Peter bites his lip, eyes clenching tightly as his hands do but he forces himself to calm down to speak more clearly. “You have to let me work here, please. Just please. I’m begging, please.”The man looks over his shoulder, completely caught off guard by his desperate plea – and probably finding it a little pathetic – but it works. The man’s face goes through a series of odd expressions first, like he's having a war with himself, and Peter’s sad crocodile tears are making it that much harder on him but at least he’s contemplating the thought.“Aw fuck it” he turns back around, looking defeated and not very happy about it, but he smiles nonetheless. “I’m a nice kind of guy and I’ve taken strays in by the dozen, so fine. Make me a pretty penny every hour by the hour” he grins, “You start tomorrow morning. Friday” he emphasizes with importance, “All day. Can you do that?” he arches a brow.Peter immediately nods, “Yes, yes, I’ll be here.”“Good, 6:30 sharp. I’ve got a list and I’m planning to work you to the bone” he cackles a bit maniacally.“Oh thank you so much” Peter deflates, the tension in his shoulders suddenly leaving him. “This means so much to me.”That gives the bar owner pause, his laughter cut short. “What kinda of idiot thanks me for this?” he sends him a slightly appalled look, “I’m no mother Teressa and this job isn’t exactly a picnic, so don’t expect any more kindness from me” he rolls his eyes.“Oh” Peter still smiles, unable to help himself.The bar owner sees this and sighs heavily, “Welcome to Sister Margaret’s kid, little hell on earth” he smirks, patting him on the shoulder amicably.
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Peter tries not to send Weasel a pitying look when his new bar stool is broken over someone’s head again. “Ahh shit…” is all Weasel says about the matter before going back to his drink. On the other hand, the rowdy patrons of the bar rally around the two currently fighting to jeer and laugh.The chair is basically picked apart until there’s nothing left but wood splinters. A lost cause for repairs, he idly thinks. Peter is good, but even he can’t make miracles. He’ll have to order a replacement, of course, so he gets on that the second he has a chance.Since officially working for Weasel, he’s really had his work cut out for him. It’s been a long unsatisfying process that’s left him a little frayed around the edges, but over time he’s managed to make a home for himself.As unorthodox as that sounds, it’s true.Admittedly, for the first few nights here, he had genuinely feared for his life. After a week and a half, he considered quitting. Then one month after that, he finally found a way to navigate through the unstoppable chaos. It’s never enough to just muddle through, not in a place like this.He knew the moment he first walked in he’d look out of place. At that point, he’d been the target of some heavy blithering teasing about being better suited to warming beds than working a job. It’d been difficult getting the respect he so deserved, but it only had to take one incident for all of that to change.Luckily for him, his parents had passed on their stupidly stubborn courage onto him. So, he managed to stay on his feet when someone who couldn’t take no for an answer suddenly thought it was okay to manhandle him – as if he were in the wrong for stepping all over his hurt little feelings.Needless to say, he shocked everyone that day when ‘the meek kid who probably couldn’t open a jar of pickles’ punched him across the face before making efficient work of knocking him down – and out, like smashing a bottle over his head.Went down like a sack of potatoes.Everyone has dealt with their fair share of meager potheads before so sometimes you just have to grin and bear it. But Peter had been in a particularly foul mood that day and wasn’t thinking clearly. Once the blind rage had vanished, he damn near shit himself thinking he’d killed a man.Thankfully he was fine, but no one wanted to be tripping over the body, so Weasel told him it was his mess to clean up. Weasel literally howled with laughter when Peter nearly broke his neck trying to drag his dead ass out the door. It made for an amusing sight after what they had just witnessed but no one ever forgot it.After that, Peter gained a bit of notoriety. Just as someone they vaguely remember before not caring. So nothing's really changed he supposes. Peter still gets molested and badgered by every other drunkard. It never goes too far - thank god - but who knows how far his luck will run before it happens again.If only they could leave him alone altogether but that's just wishful thinking. These kinds of things just go hand in hand, so let's just say he’s learned to better deal with it now that he knows what to expect.At the very least, no one thinks he's hotheaded or temperamental despite looking crazed that day. Still, that was as far a taste to violence as he was willing to take. He's never doing it again. Not if he can help it.Besides, he has Weasel.Although he’s made it clear countless times before that Peter is not his problem, he's usually there when he thinks it's really bad. He’s cowardly on a good day but even he can be of use.Then again, he could just be protecting his investment. Because let’s face it, Peter is the best damn employee he’s ever had.So good that Weasel made him quit the diner he worked at and adding a 300-dollar payout in advance. Before any ‘real’ check. Which to this day Peter wonders how is mathematically feasible. Because as far as he can tell, Weasel can’t produce money out of thin air.…it’s this place, he discovered at some point.It’s not normal.But along with everything else he’s learned about working there, keeping your nose out of people’s business is equal to keeping your life. That’s how hard Peter worked into not looking anyone directly in the eye.However, turning the other way has always been a physical impossibility for him. Having his head low and being quiet when convenient is all he pretends to do before curiosity gets the best of him. One thing he’s always been good at though is seeming like something he’s not.Liar is too strong a word for his taste but if one wants to get technical…well…He just hopes Weasel is as dumb as he pretends to be too. Every once and while he gets this look in his eyes that makes him feel like he’s being pinned under a microscope. That’s why Peter needs to be careful.He got lucky this time around so he won’t let this chance slip up. His position here has made things more convenient for his search and showing his hand now - accident or not - would be devastating. He may have made promises in the past but there’s no stopping him now.Being here might just help him get closer to solving his long-time mystery. He hadn’t planned for it, but he also can’t be waiting for another opportunity like this.Time to rekindle that spark he thought he lost.***Peter gets a call he thought he could avoid a week after poking around places he knew he shouldn’t have been. He knows who it is without looking so he chooses to ignore it.He hadn’t counted on six other phone numbers to call in successive sequence so his phone is just ringing and ringing and ringing until Weasel couldn’t take it anymore. He kicks him out and declares he has a 10-minute break.Peter stalls as much as he can, more nervous than he’d like to be but when the next number shows up on the screen he slumps into a wobbly chair with a sigh and answers.“Uh, hey guys” Peter chuckles gently, trying for that nonchalance he can never pull off around his friends.“Peter!” seven sets of voices ring loudly into his ear, all varying from angry, delighted to relief.“You’ve got some serious ‘splaining to do buster!” one says after another asks, “Where have you been!?” over other cries of “I knew you weren’t dead!” to “I’m going to kill you!”They’re all bombarding him with questions, so Peter doesn’t even try to get a word out until they’re all exhausted from yelling. They have a right to be angry, really. Especially after hearing from him, someone who practically disappeared off the face of the planet for close to half a year.Peter smiles, fond and happy to hear his friends after so long.“Yes, I’m alive,” he says once they’ve calm down, “I’ve missed you all too and I know it was shitty of me, but I had to…you guys know that.”“Still doesn’t make it right,” one of them says when they let that sink in.“Did you really think doing this alone was the best idea?” another asks, “You should’ve known we’d be willing to help.”“…Harry…” Peter closes his eyes, not wanting to cry when he still has to go back to work, “I know that more than anything, but the last time you were all involved some of you were close to death. Can’t let anything happen to you guys.”“…God, I want to wring your skinny neck so badly” Michelle growls through the line that it shocks a laugh out of him. Out of all of them.“Me too,” Gwen says before softly adding, “But more than anything I want to see you. We all do.”“Ned nearly choked after we cracked your code” Miles pipes up, “You sure know how to sneak around so it was a surprise to all of us. I mean, you left your new cell phone number! Sure, it took us a while to figure it out but come on… it’s you. No one else but you…” he goes quiet.“Yeah, last we heard you were in France and Germany. When’d you get back anyway? Why didn’t you come to us? Just what happened?”MJ sounds like she’s been crying, her pain clear in the way she speaks. Peter can hear most of them sniffling. He doesn’t say anything, quiet for a long time and hating himself for making the most important people in his life miserable. No one should live their days wondering where their friend is, or if they’ll ever find him in a ditch somewhere. When Peter still doesn’t say anything, Liz prompts a different answer out of him, “Do you think we can see you again? Or are you still in hiding?”Peter takes a breath and smiles, “Yeah… In hiding but I can still do that” he clarifies.“Really? Oh my god, you should come over now! Some of us skipped work waiting for you to answer the damn phone so you owe us.”Peter laughs as they all immediately speak as one again. “Don’t think I can come now. Get off work around 1 and I can’t ask you guys to stay up for me. Maybe tomorrow.”“Why so late…or early?” Ned asks curiously, “We can come to see you then so tell us where you are.”“No!” Peter yelps too quickly and realizes his mistake too late, “I mean, you don’t need to do that.”“Ah jeez, where are you this time? It can’t be worse than that time you posed as an OSCORB intern and blew up one of the labs.”“Uh ha ha, not quite” Peter awkwardly laughs.Peter doesn’t think they’ll like that he’s working for the sketchiest person in the sketchiest bar in the sketchiest part of New York possible. That aside, he seriously doesn’t want his cover blown once a bunch on his friends suddenly show up to some seedy, gross bar filled with less than ambiguously moral people working shady deals in just about everything.He especially doesn’t want to put them in any more danger.He risked everything just getting into contact with them again, but he figured it was about time.“Peter…” It’s Gwen, “At least tell us you’re okay?”“Yes,” Peter immediately reassures, “I’m more than fine.”“You better damn well be”, she huffs.“If you don’t want us meeting with you then we’ll wait…”“Yeah, Pete. You can’t just expect us to go back to sleep after hearing from you.”“We’ll make sure all the cameras are off so no one will see you sneaking in.”“That’s really considerate Ned but you shouldn’t” Peter rolls his eyes, “That’ll just raise more suspicion. But don’t worry, I know my way around and no one will suspect a thing.”They go quiet, and Peter blinks, thinking the line had gone dead but when he looks at the screen, he sees it's still connected. Then, “You never stop being such a creeper” Michelle suddenly mutters, sounding suspiciously giddy at the idea of seeing him again even if he has to pull some secret service spy shit just to sneak into his once home.Peter laughs again, remembering his time in high school and knowing they are too; when they were all happy, close and inseparable. Before he had to leave them behind…“Keep the coffee pot warm and I’ll see you soon” Peter simply says. After some gentle bantering, he finally hangs up, quickly pulling apart the phone he built and hiding the parts in his bag so he can make use of it in some other way.His eyes are red and wet around the edges and Weasel sees this when he comes back but he doesn’t comment. Peter smiles when he just gives him a slip of paper, orders that need to be filled so that they can restock their inventory on things like tumblers and potatoes.Weasel pats his back, his only means at comforting someone, before leaving him be. He may not care most of the time but even he knows that Peter needed that. It's good to be distracted so that his mind doesn't wander too much.
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(WADE)The streets are crowded today. The squirming bodies below increase in numbers as the day continues to drag on. Every time he sees someone stop, his heart races a little. They don’t seem to know what to make of his little stunt but so far no one has done anything about it.He's uncommonly patient for the next few minutes before checking his watch again, grinning when he sees it’s just about time.Deadpool gets in position.On those rare occasions when he actually gets lucky, somehow, he found himself with a surprising amount of free time. So, what better way to pass that time than by working on a little side project. Taking a hit on someone can be extra fun if he simply spices things up a bit.Roleplaying is the shit in and outside of work.Man, he loves his job.Deadpool is lying on his stomach, fingers twitching a little when he notices movement for the first time. Everything is going as planned.“The target should be waking aannny minute now~” Deadpool hums quietly to himself.Sure enough, the drooling man he’s been keeping watch of finally opens his eyes. He’s disoriented, fat, and slow, so when he grasps for the sticky note attached to his forehead, he keeps missing. Deadpool cackles a little, wishing he brought popcorn.This is turning out more fun than he thought.The fat man knocks around as he struggles to stand in the confined space. He looks outwards, unmoving for a minute as his pea brain comes to realize where he is. His hands brace against the glass partition, the world around him passing him by with only a few onlookers.No one approaches.He reaches for the handle, forces the door open only to discover that it’s been shut tight. There’s no escape. Deadpool sees the sweaty pig suddenly start to panic, laughing as he clumsily bangs around, his squealing frightening nearby pedestrians away even though he’s trapped in a box.He’s enjoying himself so much already he almost considers leaving him there. Almost…He reaches for his phone, eyes never leaving the perfect view he has over his target. On his end, everything is quiet, peaceful. When he dials the number he wants, it’s only after the fourth ring that the line connects.He hears heavy breathing, and then a tentative scared, “H-hello?”With a cheer, Deadpool greets his new friend, “Well now, you weren’t an easy man to find Stu. Didn’t even leave me a bread crumb to follow. Nice work really, almost thought you’d given me the slip but then you had to go and just be…you know… Be. You.”Deadpool sees him close his eyes, horror flashing across his face before becoming ghastly sick. His hands tremble, and he swallows noisily, which sounds super gross in his ear, but it can’t compare to how horrible it must have been for all those poor girls...His jaw clenches.How could he… his nasty dank breath… the last thing they feel and hear before they’re gone.The grip on his rifle tightens, his leather gloves straining, but he makes sure to keep his finger off the trigger.Not yet, he reminds himself.“D-Deadpool” his voice shakes. “We- We can work this out- I-I- can pa-”“One little miss catches your eye and it’s like nothing else matters. Am I right?”“Pl-please- I-I have money. I’ll double what they’re giving you-”“I can see why you enjoy your happy little pills over actual conversation”, he talks over him again, “Easy, fast, I mean, who can say no to that…oh wait… no one can. Can they?”“I-I-I can set you up man” he weakly laughs, “I’ve got the good shit- I’ve got more- I can-”“It’s just never gonna end” Deadpool cuts him off one last time, sighing his disappointment. “You got a help me out Stu…just how do I put a stop to this.”“I’ll Stop!” he suddenly screams, on the verge of hysteria as he grips the phone in his hand. “Is that what you want to hear?! That I stop?! Then I’ll stop!”Deadpool hums, considering the thought, “How very generous of you.”“Yeah, yeah, generous” he frantically nods his head. “Now let’s strike up a deal. 10 grand right?” he wipes the sweat of his pig forehead. “I’ll have it by tonight. On the corner of west and park. Talk to Jim.”“Generous, indeed” Deadpool mumbles, “But hold that thought, we’re getting a little sidetracked. I had a point to make…Oh right! I have a whole script!” he excitedly says.“What?”“Now, now, don’t be like that. I got you covered buddy, I left yours in there too.”“M-mine? Wha-What? What script?” he turns a full circle, searching the booth until he finally picks up the phone book. His script. “You mean…”“Good, good, you have it” Deadpool’s feet swing back and forth in the air. Checking his watch once more, he quickly hangs up, waiting a moment before redialing.He can see his confusion, and that’s okay because nothing is going to change. Whether he follows or not, Deadpool still plans to blow his brains out. Thankfully, he picks the phone up again.“Hello?”Deadpool clears his throat, channeling his inner Keifer, “Don’t even think about leaving that booth”, he says, his voice purposefully hoarse as he speaks.They both don’t say anything, Deadpool waiting for his line while the other is just shocked into speechlessness. He mistakenly laughs, not able to stay serious because this is just too funny.“What do you want from me!?” he screams again, “I thought you were going to let me go! Please! I’ll do anything, just let me out!”, he cries pathetically.Deadpool rolls his eyes, “No, that’s not how it goes, but fine.” He gets into character, “I’m aiming at you right now. Can you feel it, Stu?”“…Wha… Oh God” his breath catches, the same sickly pallor growing even more ashen, “No, N-no, please…” he whispers, head shaking, more desperate now than when he was before. Stu quickly abandons the phone, turning around and around as he bangs on the glass with his meaty fist to catch anyone’s attention. His cries for help are muffled but a few people do seem to stop.Deadpool looks at his watch, tempering down the glee and bloodlust for just a few more minutes, “Right on schedule”, he mutters.More and more people stop as they watch two people jam the door open, a few good samaritans that are even less in the know about who they’re releasing. Stu jumps out, sucking in his newfound freedom like a leech. He tackles his saviors the second he has a chance to run, stumbling over his own two feet like an idiot, so he falls.When he gets back up, there’s a loud bang that’s followed by another.“Dance monkey, dance” Deadpool aims at Stu’s feet. People immediately scatter while Stu yelps and screams with every shot missed. Gravel flies everywhere, the deep impressions of bullets leading him back to the booth where he jumps to for safety.“Ha!” Deadpool can’t stop laughing, but he hurries to call again.When he answers, he yells. “What the FUCK did I just say!”Stu’s cries hysterically over the line.“DO NOT. LEAVE!”He continues to cry, his apologies unintelligible and weak.“Now then~” he starts, going pleasantly lax, “If you had just let me finish earlier, I could have told you of an easier way to escape.” Stu’s gross sobbing subsides a little, listening, “Believe it or not, that booth is a teleportation device. Ooooooo~”“What?” he sniffles, “S-so, you’re going to let me go?” Stu looks around again, nudging here and there as if searching for that magic button.“Oh sure!” Deadpool snickers, “As long as you do as I say. But the only way to activate it is if you close the door.”Stu immediately complies. Deadpool shakes his head, pulling the receiver away from his mouth as he tries to stifle his next bout of laughter. This gullibleness isn’t cute at all. Out of the few bravely stupid souls to remain, he sees the one person he’s been waiting for. She draws closer, within reaching distance really, but she knows better than to do anything stupid.“Jackpot!” he yells into the receiver, startling Stu for a moment before he too realizes who is there.“Y-you…” his eyes widen.She smiles at him, pleased with herself as she lets the fat man see her face clearly. Once that’s done, she steps back, subtly nodding her head as the go-ahead.It’s time.“Alright Stu, here’s what you gotta do!” his voice takes on the tone of a game host, “All you need to do is answer one important question and remember! The clock is ticking… What is… her name?” he growls in the end.“No…” Stu’s voice trembles again, “But I…I-”He drops the receiver and Deadpool grins. “Wrong answer” he sighs into the air before finally taking the shot.***“The most majestic calzone you ever did see” Deadpool twirls away from the stove with a happy smile and carefully plates his dinner beside Vanessa’s. She takes a break from reapplying her makeup and chuckles warmly at him. “It looks great,” she says, tentatively taking a bite without ruining her lipstick. To his surprise, it’s all she takes before pushing away from the table.As she turns to make her way out the door, he reaches out to stop her, “Wait, where are you going?”Vanessa sighs, “Baby I’m sorry, but I have to fill in for Monica at the club, remember. I need to go before I’m late. Don’t worry, I’ll be back around midnight so…”“Oh,” he reluctantly lets her go, “Right, I just thought- I finally caught a break and I wanted to make it up to you…”Vanessa smiles softly at him, coming closer to kiss his cheek and hug him tight, “I know, but maybe when I get back, we can have that reunion you really wanted” she giggles, nodding towards the bed with a wink.It cracks a smile out of him but somehow, he doubts it’s going to come to that once she gets back. It’s actually been a month since they’ve seen each other and while she’s never been bothered by his job before he’s noticed that she’s become more distant with him lately.Unfortunately, it’s still too hard to tell if she’s mad at him or not, but whenever she pulls away from him like this, it sure does feel that way.“Next time okay” she reassures without looking at him in the eye.“Yeah, sure…next time” he repeats dejectedly as he watches her go, door long closed behind her.“Well shit…” He yanks at the apron he’s wearing now that he’s all alone.After a moment, he decides to trash the dinner he slaved over for her and leaves for the bar. Luckily for him, there’s always something going on there that could help keep him from dying of boredom. Besides, he doubts Vanessa’s going to appreciate finding another recreation of tube city in their apartment after she caught his pet rodents scurrying in the bathroom last time.Weas better be worth any fun he can come up with because, at this point, he’s seriously contemplating a night with his favorite gun.Deadpool quickly shakes his head, desperately trying to rid himself of such thoughts. But he can’t.His marriage is literally coming to shambles…. and it’s such a headache to deal with… he’s been trying his best though… not that anyone’s noticed…Just how is he supposed to fix things with his wife if she won’t stay long enough to talk to him?*** [PETER]***The safe house entrance is guarded by two men. Three more are roaming just past the iron gates. When he climbs the wall, he’s silent except for the grunt he releases when he lands on his foot wrong. He can’t stop though. Otherwise, he runs the risk of getting caught on the moving cameras.But Peter hunches, briefly resting with his hands on his knees. Clearly, he has let himself go. It’s just not like it used to be.He can barely catch his breath.It’s a good thing he studied up on every blind spot he could find or he’d have been caught by now. He also hacked the servers, moving a camera here and there, and it’s so minuscule, hardly anyone will tell something happened. But it gives him nothing more than a small window of opportunity that he can’t miss.He knows who of the guards have been stationed here, as well as how many. Sensors have been temporarily hijacked. Dogs are chill for the most part – ‘cept Comey the terror who he’s missed feeding and petting. Some traps are disabled. And the scoutmaster hiding in his little ‘tower’ looks like he’s falling asleep.Sneaking in had never been easier. Now, if this were anywhere else, he’d be happy, but he has to wonder, just how trained are these men? For them to allow someone like him to fly under their noses, it’s just pathetic really.But he probably shouldn’t jinx it.Peter climbs as fast as his trembling arms can carry him and clumsily rolls into his old bedroom where his friends are all patiently waiting. They jump him all at once, containing their excitement as best they can without squealing too loudly.Ned blubbers something about missing him against his shirt, Harry and MJ squeeze him from both sides, Gwen just atop trying to get in. All off them basically bury him under their growing weight, so it’s almost suffocating.“Need air” he grunts below but they don’t move much beyond allowing him a little room to breathe. It takes a while for them to finally calm down to talk.“You’ve lost some weight” Gwen points out as he brushes his long hair back. He’s due for a haircut too, but he’s been so preoccupied with all he’s been doing, he hadn’t really given it much thought.“I’m eating every day” Peter smiles.“You lived off instant noodles and protein bars before. What’s stopping you from doing the same now?” Liz arches a brow.“Never said it was good” Peter concedes.The others frown. They want to ask; he can see it in their eyes. Just how exactly has he been living? But they don’t because he’s shut them down before.He’s by far the youngest of the group and very, very reckless, so they worry even though they shouldn’t have to. They know firsthand that he’s someone who dives headfirst into just about everything.His family didn’t nearly so hover. If anything, he remembers them giving him a wide berth and a healthy amount of trust.Then again, he didn’t see his parents nearly as much as he saw his friends. Maybe that’s why they turned out this way. That and the fact that’s he’s hidden things from them countless times before. It’s only natural that they would worry considering what he put them through…That’s why he just sighs when one of them asks “Won’t you come back home already? You can live better here than wherever you are I’m sure?”“Not yet. I need more time to figure things out.”“Okay then… Just what exactly are you doing? Is it that? I thought after what happened last time, you’d let it go. Isn’t that why you left?”“…Partly” Peter lowers his head, crossing his legs at the ankles and hugging his knees, “I left for a lot of reasons…”“Fucking Christ Peter” Harry clenches his fists, “Are you seriously still working that case? It’s dangerous!”“Harry” Gwen pulls him back and Harry immediately settles. Peter feels that same guilt he gets whenever he thinks about his friends. It feels even worse now that he’s there with them in person.“I’m being careful”, he only says.“That’s not fair, Pete” Ned sits beside him, “After all we’ve been through you can’t just toss us aside like yesterday’s garbage. We can help.”“No!” Peter’s head snaps up, panic reflecting in his eyes, “I’m not going to let you guys get caught up in this again. No way! Not after what happened to-” his voice breaks a little and he closes his eyes, breathing for a moment, “Not after what happened to Flash” he whispers in the end.“Oh, Peter…” MJ draws closer, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly. Peter smiles and leans into her embrace, breathing for a moment until they can all settle.“Look, I know what I’m doing this time”, MJ releases him so he can face them all, “I have a layout and some leads, and although I don’t like finding out these things it’s important that I do something about it. I’m not going to let this go until I catch the person behind all this.”“We can still help you” Miles insists one last time, shifting closer to his side to show him a large manila folder with a big red stamp on it. Something that definitely holds sensitive information. When he sees the S.H.E.I.L.D. logo on it he gapes, staring at his friend in shock.“Wha- How did you get this?!” he holds it in his hands, opening it up and literally gobbling up everything he can see. This is it…“We haven’t just been waiting around wishing for you to come home” Harry kneels in front of him. “Some of us knew you were searching for more leads and we thought maybe we can do a bit of our own searching.”“It’s not much but hopefully it helps. Miles, Ned, and Gwen worked hard getting their hands on that you know” MJ huffs at him.“You guys…” Peter rubs his head anxiously, “this is super incredible, but also really, really stupid. What if you had been caught?!” he throws his hands up, “Then what? You’d lose witness protection. Or something worse!”“But we weren’t”, Michelle rolls her eyes, taking more folders out of a box by her side that he hadn’t noticed before. It looks familiar though. “And besides, you’re one to talk. We know you did it all the time when you were still here. Tony would have flayed your ass if you weren’t so good at giving him the slip.”Peer blushes at that, going sheepish and quiet, “Oh, heh, yeah I probably shouldn’t be talking.”“Damn right” she laughs a little, they all do, “Anyways, it’s true that these three did their share of hard work but don’t count us out yet. Me, Liz and MJ were out looking at places you suspected this organization of setting up camp. We also talked to a few streetwalkers willing to talk. We have more leads now” she beams, looking pretty proud of herself.At this Peter really chokes, “You what!?”“Don’t worry, we were discreet about it, and we made sure to take Harry with us to keep an eye on us.”“Are you kidding me” Peter stands and paces, “That is the worst thing you could possibly do! These people abduct people for a goddamn living you know, and you three are basically asking them to take you if you go sniffing around their territory.”“Yeah well… we learned from our mistake last time so we're not going to let them take us that easily” Liz clenches her fist, “We wouldn’t have gone if we didn’t think we were prepared and believe us, we’ve been ready.”“And what about you Peter, huh?” Gwen glares at him, “Don’t you remember you were taken two times already. If it weren’t for your godfathers and the Avengers you wouldn’t even be here so don’t lecture us about pulling stupid stunts!”Peter clenches his jaw, wanting to argue back that he had that under control, but they were all right. So he sags, defeated, feeling even more tired. “Damnit…” his hands tremble a little.“Look, Peter, the point we’re trying to make is, you don’t have to do this alone” Ned gently grabs his shoulder, urging him to sit back down because he needs the rest, “Even if you don’t want it, we’ll still be here to help and if going behind Tony’s back keeps you even a little bit safer than…it’s worth it.”Peter smiles at that, finding comfort in his words and his touch. He can’t a have nervous breakdown now of all times. This was supposed to be a reunion.He takes even more breaths, calming his racing heart before he speaks again.“O-okay…” Peter sighs, “Okay. I obviously can’t stop you, but if you’re all really sure about this…then there is one thing you can do for me.”They all light up at this, gathering closer and bringing the box of files closer. It’s more information taken from the Avengers and Stark industries’ archives.“This is going to be a nightmare” Peter closes his eyes, remaining calm as he takes out a different folder. This is a statistics chart and missing persons' reports that he compiled when he was looking into his missing parents…He can tell that they added to it, so it’s sharper and more accurate. Another file tells him of the so-called leads they were able to find. “We’ll start here.” He points at a location while skimming through the papers he’s been quietly reading. “Also, cross out some of these. I’ve already looked into them and while a few were promising they led to some dead ends.”Ned and Gwen make the corrections while Peter concentrates on coming up with a plan, reading and skimming through all the relevant information and pulling out what he already knows from his brain. “Right then…this is what we’ll need to do…” he looks up at them with a glint in his eyes.---It’s just past noon by the time Peter wakes up. His phone is ringing somewhere so he scampers around to look for it. He stumbles over a few of his friends who are still asleep on the floor. There are papers everywhere so he’s having a hard time trying to find where the ringing is coming from.When he finally gets to his phone there is a knock on the door that keeps him frozen to his spot. He kicks Harry nearby to wake him. He looks around dazed for a second but when he hears the second knock, he’s instantly alert.“Shit” he scrambles to a stand and goes to the door.“Yes?” he cracks the door a few inches.“Mr. Stark is here to see you all” Peter hears a guard say, “Where are the rest of your companions, you’re all usually out and about.”“Oh, thank you Jacob for letting me know, and don’t worry we’re all here. We just stayed up all night doing…homework and…playing games and stuff so…”Peter stifles a laugh at that and shakes his head. “Right…” the guard sounds dubious, “be down in five.”“Of course,” Harry smiles, closing the door once the guard turns away. He leans against it with a sigh before throwing him a thumbs up. Peter shakes his head again, going back to his phone to see that Weasel has been trying to call him.“Ugh…” Peter answers, going to the bathroom for some privacy.“I thought I was supposed to come in at 6, don’t tell the stove caught on fire again? Just use the extinguisher like I taught you and use the back-up stove.”“Oh shit! Are you for real, Weas, what’s the hell did y-o, agh!” the person suddenly yelps.“Wade, you damn fucktard give me back my phone!” he hears Weasel yell before the line suddenly disconnects.Peter blinks, utterly perplexed as he pulls the phone away from his ear.“What in the world?”