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In Peter’s defence, he’s currently losing a lot of blood, in a lot of pain, and therefore cannot be held responsible for forgetting Tony Stark’s strict rule;
Do not go to Deadpool’s unsupervised.
Peter really hadn’t been looking for trouble. He hadn’t even been patrolling! He had simply been minding his own business, admiring the latest Avenger’s Lego set in the shop window that he planned on getting Ned for Christmas. He had been in the middle of calculating how much money he still had to save up and if he should get the store to put it on hold for him when a warning tingle had run down his spine.
Peter hadn’t even had time to react before the ground was shaking beneath him and suddenly, he was falling, the floor beneath him now gone. Screams erupted all around him and Peter scrambled to find purchase as his arms pinwheeled as he went falling into darkness. Everything had been so loud and dark, his senses trying to adjust to the very sudden change.
Rubble hit Peter from all directions and Peter cried out as a particular piece of rubble clipped him on the head which sent him crashing into something sharp. Eventually the world around his began to still and the world went eerily quiet. Peter’s breath had been loud in his own ears as his eyes tried to adjust to the darkness that was all around him. He swallowed down the nausea that was swirling inside him and tried to ignore the sticky warmth that was trickling down his neck and down his side.
Then he had heard the screams.
“HELP! HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP ME!”
And so, Peter had shaken his head to try and clear away the dizziness (which really only made it worse and made him throw up the pretzel he had only minutes before the world had fallen out from under his feet) and started crawling his way towards the voice.
He had managed to find a couple of people and helped free them from where they were trapped under some rubble before he heard sirens approaching fast. With a throbbing head and blood slipping down his arm, dripping from the tips of his fingers, Peter had stumbled out of the mall and slipped away from the gathering crowd that was looking on in horror.
Peter was totally going to blame the giant concussion and blood loss for walking away from the scene. (If he had stayed a few minutes more, he would have heard Iron Man’s suit racing towards the mall, War Machine right behind him.) Having a hard time trying to concentrate on anything other than his pounding head and the stabbing pain in his side, Peter managed to get himself turned around.
When he received one too many worried looks by those on the street, Peter ducked into the nearest alley way and hid behind a dumpster. He all but collapsed against the metal bin, taking a moment to catch his breath and take stock. He his was still bleeding, warmth still sliding down his neck and soaking his t-shirt but not as badly as before. The sharp pain in his side was due to the metal bar that was currently embedded between his ribs.
“Mr. Stark is going to kill me,” Peter moaned as he looked at the rebar. At the thought of his dad mentor, Peter clumsily searched his pockets for his phone but found them empty. It must have fallen from his pockets somewhere in between his free-fall and stumbling through the rubble.
“Think, think,” Peter muttered to himself.
Peter looked around the alleyway, taking in the dirty grime that covered the walls and the crude graffiti penises. Peter tilted his head as splash of red caught his eyes. It was a rushed spray job of what looked like a cartoon Deadpool.
With renewed energy that he wouldn’t be bleeding out in alleyway for Tony or May to find him (and he knew that if they found him dead, they would find a way to bring him back to life just so that they could kill him again for scaring them) he picked himself up off the ground and started moving.
Peter lost time somewhere between the alley way and Wade’s apartment, but his next clear thought is that he’s standing in front of a staircase that led to Wade’s apartment. With a whimper, Peter started climbing the stairs, clutching the banister so tightly it splintered under his grip. He left a trail of bloody smears as he made his way up and by the time he reached the top, Peter wished the fall at the mall had killed him.
Before Peter could even raise a hand to knock on the door, it was flying open. Peter blinked up at the tall, handsome older man that who was staring down at Peter with narrowed eyes and a scowl.
“Hello,” Peter said, trying to stand up straight. He looked vaguely familiar, but Peter’s last brain cell was working overtime to keep him upright.
“Jesus Christ,” the man scowled.
“Is Wade home?” Peter asked, voice sounding faint even to his own ears.
“Wade, get out here,” the man barked. The man reached out, gripping Peter by the elbow and gently dragged him inside. “I got you. Easy kid.”
“Who was at the door, Cujo? Pray its Blind Al’s del – HOLY FUCK!”
Peter blinked as Wade came out of a room deeper in the apartment. His expression had been teasing but as soon as it landed on Peter, his face dropped, and he was rushing to him.
“Hey, Wade,” Peter said, hoping his was smiling but it was hard to tell. “Do you mind if I sit?” Before Wade could answer, his knees were buckling.
Strong arms wrapped around him, and Peter was half dragged, half carried across the apartment until he was gently deposited into a chair.
“Spidey! What happened?” Wade demanded, hands skimming over Peter’s face, gently cupping it.
Peter leaned into Wade’s gentle hands. “I was at the mall looking at Lego.”
“Oh shit,” the other man said. “You were at the mall that collapsed?”
“Yeah,” Peter sighed. “I fell. And got stabbed by something.”
Wade shifted back and hissed as he took in the rebar sticking out of Peter’s side. “Spidey! Do you know what Daddy Stark is going to do to me?”
“Oh,” Peter blinked. “Could you call him? I lost my phone and – and,” Peter sucked in a sharp breath, lower lip trembling as another wave of pain went through him. “I want my dad.”
“Logan, you’re on first aid,” Wade said. “I’m going to call Stark and tell him I’ve got Spiderbaby.”
“Not a Spiderbaby,” Peter slurred, vision tilting.
“He needs a hospital,” Logan growled as he moved to catch Peter from falling off the chair.
“Super healing, Wolvie. He’s just like us, only younger and way more innocent,” Wade shouted, already racing out of the room.
“You really have super healing?” Logan asked, crouching down in front of Peter.
“I’m Spiderman,” Peter said. “And I can feel the wound trying to heal around the bar.”
“Okay,” Logan said. He swore. “Christ. Alright, bub, this is going to hurt.”
Peter whimpered as Logan grabbed the end of the rebar. He planted a hand on Logan shoulder, gripping the flannel tightly in his hand. Peter cried out as Logan yanked the bar from his side and Peter vaguely heard the man growling but his vision was going white, and he was trying really hard not to vomit. When Peter’s vision started to clear he looked at his hand that was still gripping Logan’s shoulder which was now broken under his hand.
“Oh my god,” Peter gasped, releasing Logan quickly. “I am so, so, sorry. Oh god. Please, I am so sorry.”
“Easy, kid,” Logan soothed. “It was an accident and I heal fast too.”
“I didn’t mean too,” Peter whimpered, tears spilling down his cheek.
Logan’s face softened and Peter hiccupped as the man brushed a knuckle over his cheek, wiping away the tear.
“Wolvie!” Wade came running back into the room. “You made him cry? Bad Wolvie! Do you know what Stark will do to you?”
“I broke his shoulder!” Peter sniffled pathetically.
“A little warning on the super strength would have been nice,” Logan grumbled to Wade. He looked back at Peter and jerked a thumb at Wade. “And don’t worry, kid. This dumbass has done a lot worse to me then broken my shoulder.”
Wade scoffed. “Please! Like you didn’t enjoy it. It was practically foreplay. Every fanfic writer thinks so.”
Logan growled at Wade and Peter gave a small grin.
“My little honey badger is shy,” Wade winked at Peter as he patted Logan’s now healed shoulder. “And a little rough around the edges but looks good for his advanced age. He’s my big strong boy, yes he is!”
“Jesus Christ,” Logan grumbled, climbing to his feet.
“Sorry baby girl,” Wade said. “The foreplay will have to wait. Daddy Stark will be here soon, and Spidey here need to be cleaned up. I am not delivering you to Stark covered in blood again.” Wade shivered. “Or Aunt May.”
“Mr. Stark’s coming?” Peter asked hopefully.
Wade took the wet cloth that Logan handed him and gently started to clean the blood from Peter’s face. “He sure is. He was already at the mall looking for you.”
Peter heart stuttered in his chest, and he relaxed into the stool as Wade started cleaning him up. Wade was working on his neck when Logan’s head snapped to the door the same time Peter heard the Iron Man suit land outside.
Logan moved to the door, opening it wide. “He’s in the kitchen.”
A second later and Tony was skidding into the room, striding towards Peter.
Wade shifted out of the way just as Tony dropped to his knees. Peter leaned forward, falling into Tony’s waiting arms, hugging him tightly.
“M’k,” Peter mumbled before Tony could ask. Tony was here now so everything was going to be fine.
Tony’s hands swept up and over Peter’s back before he was gently pushing Peter back, cupping his face instead. Tony’s eyes were sharp as the catalogued every inch of his face. He let out a shuddering breath.
“You have got to stop scaring me kid,” Tony huffed.
“Sorry,” Peter said. “Parker Luck.”
Tony snorted. “Yeah. It sure is something, isn’t it?”
“Wait, is he really cursed?” Wade asked. “For realsies?”
“No,” Tony answered before Peter could answer. “Where are you hurt?”
“He was impaled,” Logan answered, standing behind Tony, arms crossed loosely against his chest. “But we removed that. Looks like he got hit in the head too.”
“I did,” Peter said.
“Headache? Nausea?” Tony asked.
“Yep,” Peter said mournfully.
“Alright. You need a medbay,” Tony said, getting to his feet. “And a reminder about coming to Deadpool unsupervised.”
Peter whimpered and pointed at Logan. “He was here.”
“Yeah, about that,” Tony eyes narrowed. “Didn’t you die?”
“Disney brought him back,” Wade chirped happily. “Don’t you just love the multiverse? So many plot holes you can explain away.”
“I was dragged here,” Logan shrugged.
Wade quaffed. “Like you weren’t happy to sacrifice yourself for us all. Again. God, so noble and ruggedly handsome.”
Logan rolled his eyes, but Peter saw the quirk in his lips.
“Oh my god. You’re Wolverine,” Peter blurted out, staring at Logan slack jawed.
“You didn’t know?” Wade asked, tilting his head to one side. “Does Gen Z really not know who he is?”
“M’ concussed,” Peter whined. He blinked and then groaned. “Oh god, I broke Wolverine’s shoulder.”
“It’s fine, kid,” Logan said. “I accept your apology.”
“Right,” Tony said, shaking his head and looking stressed. Peter hated when Tony looked like that. “Well, thank you for taking care of my kid.”
“Any time,” Logan said. He looked at Peter, offering him a small smile. “Happy to help whenever you need it, kid.”
“Thanks,” Peter said. Gingerly he got to his feet, vision swimming and Tony’s arm was suddenly around his waist, keeping him upright.
“Easy,” Tony said. “I got you.”
Peter waited until the room stopped spinning. “M’good.”
Logan and Wade followed them as they headed to the door but before they could leave, Peter paused.
“Kid?” Tony asked, worried.
“Umm, Mr. Wolverine, Logan, sir?” Peter asked, hissing as he turned to look at the X-Man.
Wade cackled as Logan gave him a long stare.
“Yeah, bub?”
“Could – could I see your claws? Please?” Peter asked in a rush.
“Go on, Wolvie, throw the kid a bone.” Wade nudged Logan with his elbow. “He was skewered! He deserves a little claw action.”
Logan sighed. He held his arm out and Peter nearly fainted as three sharp claws unsheathed with a loud shink.
“Oh my god,” Peter breathed.
“Alright, kid. You’ve seen the claws. Med bay, now,” Tony said firmly.
“Thank you, Mr. Wolverine, Logan, sir,” Peter gushed as Tony started guiding him towards the stairs. “They are the coolest things ever.”
“Bye Spidey!” Wade said cheerfully. “Let’s hope next time we meet you aren’t bleeding!”
“You better not be,” Tony huffed as they started down the stairs.
“Do you think Mr. Wolverine would show Ned his claws since I couldn’t get him the Lego set for Christmas?” Peter asked, knees shaking as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
Tony sighed heavily. “Let’s get you healed before I try and talk you out of that idea.”
“K,” Peter said, leaning heavily into Tony’s side. “Thanks for coming to save me.”
Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s bloody temple. “Any time, kid. Any time.”