What's Going On?
Peter’s POV:
Peter pulls on his mask, the last piece of his suit. He then walks out the door of his room, and out into the common area.
“Hey, Hotshot.” He greets Clint.
Clint nods his acknowledgement. “Bug-boy. Where you headed?”
“Patrol.” Peter replies, hoping against hope that Clint won’t remember that its past his bedtime.
“Okay. Punch some baddies for me.” Clint replies with a wink.
Oh. So... did he remember that its past Peter’s bedtime and is letting him go out anyway, or is he just being weird?
Peter isn’t sure, but he’s not going to stick around and find out.
“Okay. I will.” Peter answers without missing a beat. He walks over to one of the windows and pops it open. “Bye!”
A few hours later, Peter is sitting on a rooftop, taking a moment to rest before swinging home.
What? Web-slinging takes a lot of work. Its like really dangerous and difficult monkey bars.
Okay, maybe that’s not Peter’s best comparison. But still, his point stands.
Speaking of standing, Peter should probably get up off his butt and head back home.
And that’s when his spider-sense sounds.
“Arachna-boy, right?” A voice behind him asks. “No, thats not right...”
Peter reluctantly turns around. “Spider-Man.” He corrects.
Okay Peter is screwed.
The guy’s about a foot taller than him, maybe a bit more. He has a muscular build, kinda like that of a weightlifter or an athlete. His suit is leather-clad, and looks like a poorly made cosplay of Peter’s suit.
And that’s exactly what Peter would’ve assumed, if the guy wasn’t armed to teeth. He carried the weapons with an obvious familiarity, letting Peter know that the guy in front of him knew how to use each and every one of them.
Because there has got to be at least ten blades- that Peter can see, mind you- and maybe a dozen or so guns.
Oh, and his spider-sense was screaming at him to run for his life.
So... yeah. He’s screwed.
“Right, right. I totally knew that. Anyway, my name’s Deadpool. Nice to meet you.” The stranger extends a hand to Peter.
Peter cautiously shakes it. “Is it legal to carry that many weapons?”
Deadpool hesitates. “I have no idea.”
Peter swallows. Deadpool didn’t seem to mind admitting he wasn’t sure if he was breaking the law to a superhero. That’s another danger sign.
Or maybe the guy is just ridiculously cocky. What? It could happen!
Yeah, but Peter’s not going to count on it. He’s not that lucky.
“So, uh... guess I’ll see you around?” Deadpool asks.
“Um... sure?” Peter agrees uncertainly.
“Great! Catch you later then, Webs!” Deadpool calls, jumping off the rooftop. Peter doesn’t even bother to make sure he’s okay. He is getting out of there, before Deadpool comes back.
The next day is saturday. Peter wakes up at around 8 am, his usual wake up time. It doesn’t seem to matter when he goes to sleep, on the weekends, his natural wake up time is 8.
Peter gets up, and pulls on his suit. Patrol is the first thing he does every day- breakfast be damned.
A few minutes later, he's swinging around Queens.
As he's swinging over a rooftop, he hears the sharp 'bang' of a gunshot, and his spider-sense tingles.
Then his webline goes slack, and Peter falls onto the roof with a loud 'thud'.
"Ooh, that looked painful. Sorry, I wasn't sure how to get your attention."
Peter recognizes the voice. "You have got to be kidding me." He mutters.
"Nice to see you, too." Deadpool greets.
Peter gets back to his feet. "Did you just shoot me out of the sky?" He demands.
"Yeah, I did. It is really hard to hit that webline, by the way. I spent a while examining the curve of the swing, your regular patrol routes, and figuring out if a bullet could sever the webbing. Apparently it can, if its a single strand. Which, lucky for me, is how you swing." Deadpool explains.
"You shot me out of the sky!" Peter protests.
"You already covered that." Deadpool points out.
Yeah okay Peter doesn't like this guy.
And then Peter's Pops shows up, standing on the edge of the rooftop. "Wade!" He yells.
Peter breathes a sigh of relief.
Deadpool freezes. "Oh, hey, Mr. Evans..."
"What are you doing here?" Cap demands.
"Uh, talking to Spider-Man, isn't that self-evident?" Deadpool asks, turning around to face the war hero.
"He shot me out of the sky." Peter intejects.
"Spider-Man, get out of here." Steve orders.
Peter sighs. That was Captain America for 'Go back home, I'll handle this.'
"Okay." Peter agrees, if only because he doesn't want to get yelled at. "See you later."
Peter shoots a web, and swings off towards Avengers Tower.
