Chapter 1
When the days are cold, and the card all fold, and the saints we see are all made of gold.
Wade looks up at the darkening sky. It's almost night time. He has to hurry. It's not safe to be out after dark. Not after the war ended.
Not after HYDRA won.
Goons patrol all day, but its not until night that it gets really dangerous. Because that's when the villains come out.
HYDRA recruited every villain they could find. That's how they won. Because even Captain America can't fight five powerful villains all at once.
Any hero that existed before the war is either part of the resistance, dead, or in hiding. Nobody is really sure which heroes fall into which category.
Wade hasn't seen any one he knew during war since it ended. Its likely the rumors of resistance are just that: rumors. It's also more than likely that heroes didn't go into hiding.
... it's more than probable that all of the heroes are dead. But Wade is going to pretend they aren't until he has solid proof otherwise.
Wade slips into a dark alleyway, and pulls up a trap door. He slides down, closing it behind him.
A dim electrical light flickers, and Wade lets out a sigh of relief. He's safe. Or safer, anyway. Nowhere is really 'safe' anymore.
"Hey." A voice greets.
Wade spins around, drawing his katana. In under a second, he has his blade pressed against the throat of the speaker.
Its a young boy. Maybe nineteen, at the oldest. Maybe. He has pale skin, and his eyes are wide under his messy brown hair.
The boy slowly lifts his hands in a simple 'I surrender' gesture, his eyes flickering from Wade's mask to his blade.
Wade draws his katana a centimeter back. "Who are you and how did you find my base?" He demands. He would just kill the guy, but he's young. Way too young.
"You showed it to me." The boy says nervously. He fidgets slightly, looking uncomfortable.
"I don't remember that. Last chance, kid." Wade threatens, his voice a low growl.
The boy swallows. "B-because, I wasn't- it wasn't- I-" He stutters.
"Get to the point." Wade sighs, cutting the kid off. He wants answers, not adorableness.
"I'm Peter-Man. Er, um, I mean, Spider-Parker- agh, crap." The kid groans, throwing his head back.
Wade narrows his eyes. "No, you aren't. Wrong-"
"Voice? I made a modulator. Height? Padding in the boots. Age? Hate to tell you, but I started being Spider-Man when I was fourteen years old." The boy- Peter, was it?- admits.
"You- You're alive?!" Wade stutters. He had been subconsciously preparing himself for the deaths of his hero's, and yet-
"Barely." Spider-Man smiles weakly.
Wade drops the katana, and wraps Spidey- Peter- in a hug. "I thought I was the only one left." He whispers.
Peter hugs Wade back. "I thought I was, too."
