Chapter Text
“Yoo hoo~”
The high-pitch voice caught Peter’s attention as he stopped onto of a streetlight. Looking down at the figure on the bench, Peter caught sight of blond hair spilling out of the cowl around the person’s head. They were also waving a handkerchief in Peter’s direction. He couldn’t catch sight of the person’s face.
“I could use a big, strong spider’s help. Come help a lady out, dearie.”
The falsetto surprisingly didn’t put Peter on edge. However, his spider sense kept tingling down his spine. Peter chalked it up to not being able to see the person’s face and swung down to land a few feet away from them. In his best “superhero” voice, Peter asked, “What can I help you with?”
The gun getting whipped out and pointed directly at him should have surprised Peter more. Instead, he was thinking about all the shit he’d get from one of the other vigilantes for letting this happen. He could already hear Matt’s ‘I was really worried about you, but I can only express it as anger’ voice.
Well, he had that thought as his body moved automatically with the flare up from his spider sense. The gun got whipped out just as a painful stab of warning shot through Peter. He shot a web at the gun and rolled out of the line of fire before yanking the gun up and into his hand. The man (holy shit, was that Deadpool in a wig) turning to face Peter sent another shiver up his spine. Absentmindedly, Peter broke the gun, but kept his eyes on Deadpool.
“What the shit nuggets was that? I didn’t even get a chance to threaten you! The nerve- No, no- I get a second chance at that,” Deadpool rambled before pulling out a second gun and pointing it straight at Peter. “Spider-Man you’re under fucking mercenary arrest or whatever. Move and I will shoot you in the head. Well, okay, just shoot you in the arm or something. Can’t kill someone I’m supposed to kidnap. Weasel would be so pissed for messing up a job.” Deadpool moved the gun to tap against his chin with it. “Then again, it’s pretty fucking funny to piss him off, and I swear he was the one who-”
Deadpool was cut off by Peter shooting another web and breaking the second gun. Deadpool’s shout of ‘motherfucker!’ was ignored in favor of Peter saying, “If you’re gonna have a midlife crisis maybe stay away from guns. It’s like gun safety 1-0-1 not to point guns at things you’re not willing to shoot, especially yourself.”
The cowl was shrugged off as Deadpool straightened to his full height. He looked Peter up and down before grinning in a way that stretched the fabric of his mask. “Don’t worry about me, baby boy. I’m not gonna bite the bullet, but if you don’t be a good boy, you might.”
Before Peter could make a quip or even just any comment on how weird it was seeing Deadpool in a full skirt, blouse, and heels over the Deadpool costume, before he could even react, Deadpool threw a gun at Peter. A gun. Just thrown at him. It was easy enough to jump out of the way of, but given the mental gymnastics Peter was doing figuring out if this was some messed up dream, he missed the mercenary charging at him.
Peter ducked just in time to dodge the punch thrown at him. For as big as the mercenary was, the guy was fast as hell. Dodging a few more swings, Peter tried to figure out what to do. Deadpool was too fast to really create distance from. When Deadpool moved to kick him, Peter caught sight of the heels again.
“Man, you gotta have some good balance to fight in shoes like that. Kind of impressive if you weren’t trying to kill me,” Peter commented before spinning around and slamming his foot into the mercenary’s knee. Sure, it was a cheap shot, and sure, Peter used a little more strength than he should’ve, but he was also pretty sure it would be very, very, very bad to not fight at top form.
Just as Peter hoped, Deadpool fell as his knee made a nasty crunching noise. The mercenary wheezed out, “Kidnap, not kill, way easier to kill.”
Peter didn’t pay much attention to that, in favor of backing up a bit to build up momentum. Before Deadpool could really recover from his injured knee, Peter charged at Deadpool before jumping in the air and twisting around easily before bringing his heel down on the man’s head. Deadpool crumpled like a stack of cards as Peter landed on the ground. He’d definitely have to tell Matt how well that move worked, but first Peter needed to figure out who sent Deadpool.
As Peter went to search Deadpool and web up the mercenary, a hand latched around his ankle. That kind of kick to the head should’ve knock the guy out for a lot longer than two seconds. Of course, it was as Deadpool yanked him off his feet that Peter remembered the man was basically immortal.
“No, no little bug, you’re not going anywhere. That was a little nasty for your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but I just repair this suit and I’m feeling just a little cranky that I have to fix it again because you made my knee go all styrofoam-y!”
As Peter’s back hit the ground, he helpfully reminded Deadpool, “Spiders are arachnids.”
Peter could almost hear Matt yelling at him to focus. Well, Peter wouldn’t be hearing much of anything if he didn’t find a way to turn this fight around.
Deadpool got back to his feet faster than Peter but didn’t fully rise to his feet. Instead, the large man threw a punch, dazing Peter long enough to plant and knee over Peter’s throat. Peter lashed out, trying to throw Deadpool off, but the mercenary just grabbed the flailing arm and twisted it. Pain ricocheted down Peter’s arm and shoulder. He could hardly breathe around the knee on his throat. Another of Deadpool’s hand went down to press on his head.
“See, Spidey, I didn’t really want to hurt you. I was just gonna hold you up with my gun and shove some chloroform in your face. Win-win for everyone, right? You don’t get hurt, and I get money for catching you, but nooooo you just had to go tossing my guns around! You know how bad that is for them? Anywho, this ain’t personal, I promise. It’s just business. So, you’re going to go nighty-night, I’m gonna unmask you and find out who you are, and then I’ll turn you over to the jagweed that hired me. See? Win-win!” Deadpool rambled on.
Before Peter could really protest or even hope to talk his way out of this, the leg on his throat pushed down hard, cutting off his air. Peter didn’t know if it was enhancement or size, but not matter how his struggled and pushed with all his might, the world slowly faded to black.
Once Deadpool was positive Spider-Man was out, but hopefully, not dead, he let up the pressure. Deadpool figured he might as well take the mask off since he both needed to figure out the guy’s ID and to help keep the little bug- arachnid alive. Deadpool would later reflect that taking the vigilante’s mask was his downfall. No matter how baby faced someone could get…
There was no way Spider-Man was older than 17. Fuck.
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“No, Wade, you’re not leaving fucking Spider-Kid here while you go run off to play pretend hero. Because of your fuck up, I’ve got to get these assholes off my back until you kill them. I’m not playing babysitter! Just shove him with Domino or some shit. Unlike you, I have an actual business to run and can’t sit up here watching a kid while you do whatever. I haven’t slept in 30 hours.”
“Come on, Weasel. I mean, you are the picture-perfect look of a pedo, but I know you’ll keep the little scamp safe! All you gotta do is feed and water him, and yes, I do remember the plant you accidentally set on fire, but kid’s’re easier!”
“The picture-perfect- You goddamn oversize condom looking fuck. I do not look like-”
“Was that not the look you were going for because the big circle glasses and grubby over all look screams pervert. I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you, but being friends is all about telling them harsh truths.”
“Fuck you. You know what, fuck you. Fine, I’ll watch the kid up until you leave. Whatever happens after that ain’t my business cause I’m chugging whatever alcohol I’ve got up here to cope with you fucking up another job. Do you know how many calls I have to make?”
“Two?”
The loud groan in response was enough to shake Peter from his weird half-awake haze. He kept his breathing even and slow, willing his body to stay relaxed and limp. He didn’t know where he was, but Matt had taken care to teach him how to pretend to be unconscious. It was hard to keep track of what was going on with all the insults being thrown back and forth, but it sounded like he wasn’t going to be tortured. Unless being left with the guy who set a plant on fire was weird code for torture. Well, it didn’t matter.
Though, Peter wasn’t sure what time it was or where he was anymore. It’d been around 1am when Peter got caught. Trying to peek an eye open subtly, Peter let out a relieved sigh at seeing it was still fairly dark outside.
Peter didn’t have time to process that, though, as Deadpool cried, “You’re awake! You slept for a really long time- Though I guess drugging you helped with that. Hmmmm, how you feeling, Petey?”
“Petey?” The note of panic couldn’t fully be concealed, but Peter tried anyway. “What are you on? Who’s Petey?”
There was a moment of silence before both men burst out laughing. Deadpool even pantomimed wiping a tear from his eye. “That was adorable! A for effort, Petey-pie. Weasel,” Deadpool pointed at the man next to him, “is a wizz with a computer and had your whole school id pulled up shortly after bringing you here.”
Peter liked to think it would have worked if the two hadn’t looked him up already. Since lying hadn’t worked, Peter resorted to embodying his mentor. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak asshole.”
The hand ruffling Peter’s hair made him assume Deadpool wasn’t taking him seriously at all. Which, Peter couldn’t blame him. He’d been told on many occasions that even at best he looked to be younger than 16, and at worst, looked to be young enough he still ate off the kids menu.
“See asshole, this is why I can’t play babysitter. He’s too- whatever quality Disney princesses all share. Like a little puppy trying to be all tough. Get out and take the baby with you,” Weasel cut in, sour look remaining on his face.
Deadpool didn’t seem affected by Weasel’s words or Peter glaring at him. “Just give him some of your spaghetti-o’s! He’s handcuffed to the chair, so he’s not going anywhere, and he’ll be safe while I go take care of ‘business.’”
Peter elected not to point out that the handcuffs tethering his arms to the chair were as useful as paper holding him down. While he didn’t want to have a rematch with Deadpool, he figured it’d be easy enough to wait this out until the mercenary was gone. Weasel… well, the man didn’t look like it would take much to overpower him. That didn’t mean his was going to take those insults laying down.
Looking dead at Weasel, Peter smiled. “Every time you compare me to a baby, puppy, or Disney princess is another time I’m going to punch you. It’ll be pretty embarrassing.”
The scoff Peter got in return only further served Peter’s desire to ‘gently’ interrogate the man about who hired Deadpool.
Before the two men could go back and forth about arguing, Peter’s burner started ringing loudly.
“Oooh let me help you with that, baby bear,” Deadpool quickly fished the phone out of Peter’s pocket. “I hope you don’t mind, but I live for gossip, so I’m just gonna answer this on speaker phone. We won’t say a peep, not a single peep.”
Peter didn’t have a moment to collect himself other than sending out a short prayer that the person calling was actually a vigilante and not one of his other contacts.
The prayer didn’t last for long before a gruff voice spoke as soon as the call started, “Where are you?”
When Matt had decided on coming up with codes for talking in front of an audience, Peter had assumed it was paranoia. He played along, of course, but he didn’t think it would ever come in handy. Apparently, Matt hadn’t just been paranoid. Distantly, Peter wondered if whoever hired Deadpool knew about the connection between Spider-Man and Daredevil. It had been the reason for coming up with the code.
Peter had taken too long to respond because Matt growled, “Spider-Man.”
Shaking himself out of his stupor, Peter kept his voice his normal cheerful level as he replied. “Hey there Hornhead. Forgot I was supposed to meet up with you.”
“Where are you?”
“Oh, you know, coming up on Jones’s side of things. Stopped to check on Max.”
“How long?”
“You’re in a chatty mood tonight.”
“Having my time wasted tends to make me a little angry. You’re over an hour late.”
“I think it’s more like thirty minutes late, buuuut since it’ll take me at least thirty to get there, you’re right, an hour late. We could always call it off tonight. I’m a little tied up.”
It seemed like Weasel and Deadpool reached a conclusion at the same time because Weasel slapped a hand to his forehead as soon as Deadpool trilled, “Is this Daredevil? Omg one of my top five hero team-up fantasies, right here!”
Matt responded to the noise quickly. “Are you with someone?” Like Matt hadn’t clearly heard Deadpool speak.
When Peter’s spider sense didn’t tingle to warn of danger, Peter easily replied, “Yup.”
“Are you in danger?”
Peter waited for a sign that either man was going to cut him off from answering. When neither of them moved, Peter saw no harm in dropping the code. “No, not really, but they don’t plan on letting me go anytime soon.”
“They?”
Weasel made a lunge for the phone but was held off by Deadpool, who was thoroughly invested in the conversation.
Taking Deadpool keeping Weasel from stopping the conversation as a sign, Peter kept answering honestly. “Yeah, Deadpool and some guy named Weasel. Someone hired Deadpool to kidnap me and, for some reason, he decided to not turn me over but go ‘take care of,’ which I can only imagine means kill, the guy who hired him. I don’t think they’re going to hurt me, though. I’d just rather they tell me who hired Deadpool, so I or you and me can take care of it. They are just letting me freely talk right now.” He would keep talking as long as they let him.
“Do you need me to come get you?”
“I mean you might as well. I promised to punch the Weasel guy at least five times at this point, and he figured out my identity, so you know…”
“I’m on my way. Between Jess and Frank’s hideout about thirty minutes out, right?”
“Yup! See you soon, Double-D.”
Just as the line went dead, Weasel finally got ahold of the phone and chucked it at one of the walls. He only relaxed once the phone was thoroughly smashed, and even then, he only relaxed or a moment. Weasel rounded on Deadpool, fury in his eyes. “Why do you hate me? Seriously? Is it cause I called you avocado face for a week straight? Cause I can’t think of any other reason, you’d keep trying to fuck me!”
Deadpool raised a finger. “Phrasing, Wease, phrasing.”
“Blow me.” Weasel ran his hands over his face before saying, “You can’t leave now without taking the kid with you, please, Wade. You know how much I hate blood. He’s gonna put me into a coma or something cause we messed with his child.”
Peter piped up, “He’s not my dad, but he will break some of your bones unless you let me go.”
Deadpool put a hand up at Peter. “Shush, the adults are talking.” To Weasel, Deadpool said, “Stop being such a scaredy cat. Broken bones are good for you! Just drink some milk and it’ll be all better- wait no that’s a cartoon. But! It doesn’t maaaaatter~ I texted Domino and she’s on her way and she ordered food to come here and I’ll leave money behind to pay for it. The kiddie said it’ll be 30ish minutes before his dad comes to pick him up and I’m still waiting on someone to get back to me on a special little someone’s location!”
Weasel opened and shut his mouth several times as if looking for a way to argue his way out of this. Eventually, he did a weird thing with his mouth that reminded Peter of a baby tasting something sour for the first time. Weasel threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, fucking fine, but the next two jobs I need done, you’re doing for free. You’re a monster.”
“Love you too, fuzzy bear,” Deadpool cooed at Weasel.
With Weasel shuffling off to another room, still cursing and lamenting his fate, Deadpool settled on the couch and started a movie. He’d occasionally reach over to poke at or ruffle Peter’s hair. Peter’s spider sense had no issue with the movement, so Peter didn’t bother avoiding it.
Peter didn’t pay much attention to what happened after that. He didn’t know who Domino was, but he knew waiting until Deadpool left before moving would be for the best. His shoulder was starting to throb and ache. Any initial wariness he’d felt towards Weasel had been chalked up to the man obviously being tech savvy enough to figure out his identity so quickly. The guy obviously wasn’t a fighter. Instead, Peter subtly tested the handcuffs tethering him to the chair and tried to deduce how hard it would be to break the windows. His phone was destroyed, so he’d have to figure out a different way to contact Daredevil after he escaped.
Deadpool suddenly standing didn’t even make Peter flinch. The mercenary was quick to announce, “I’ve got my info so it’s time to skedaddle. Weasel, if this child isn’t either in the warm clutches of Mother Daredevil or here when I get back, I’m gonna redecorate this whole apartment, which I might do anyway because seriously, do you like living like this?”
Weasel emerged from the other room after a second to glare at Deadpool. “Dom isn’t here yet, and I’m not the one who let the kid tell Daredevil how to find him.”
“She’s like five minutes away, and she’s bringing food.” Deadpool squished Peter’s cheeks together before asking him, “You’ll behave, right? Weasel’s got the consistency of a marshmallow, if you treat him too rough he’ll just explode.”
Not sure how to respond, Peter gave a noncommittal, “Sure?”
“The 12-year-old’s really not the one I’m concerned about,” Weasel snapped.
Deadpool started over to one of the windows as he said, “Shush, shush, don’t be such a worry wart. Domino’ll keep you nice and safe, and my info’s kinda time sensitive, soooooo bye, bye!” The man threw the window open before sliding out and jumping down onto the street.
With Deadpool gone, Weasel slumped into the armchair near Peter, running his hands over his face. Glancing over at the teen, Weasel said, “If you need to pee, you’re shit out of luck until he comes back. Or the devil comes to kick the shit out of me.”
“Or, as a totally legitimate and smart third option, you could just let me go, and I guess, give me a phone so I can call Double-D and tell him not to come here,” Peter suggested.
Weasel’s laughter was a little insulting. “Not happening, Fluttershy. Great try though.”
“I told you to stop- whatever.” Peter sighed. He couldn’t hear Deadpool anymore, so the coast to break free was clear enough. Still, he wanted to give this guy another chance. “Look man, I’m giving you one last chance to let me go and tell me who hired Deadpool. If I have to get out myself, you’re not going to be happy with it.”
The exaggerated eye roll made Peter feel a lot less bad about what he was going to do.
Weasel stood up, walking over to the kitchen. “I’d say you should be a comedian with all the jokes, but you need to get new material. You’re about as intimidating as a wet puppy.”
“I gave you a chance,” was all Peter said before easily freeing himself of the handcuffs attached to the chair.
Standing up, Peter heard Weasel shout and saw the man diving for, what was probably, a weapon. The guy’s hands were shaking so much, Peter didn’t know what he expected to do with a gun, but Peter didn’t want to find out. Bounding over easily, Peter grabbed Weasel’s wrist and squeezed until the gun was dropped to the ground again. Peter pushed Weasel away from him a little to get some distance before kicking the man in the chest. Weasel’s back hit the wall only a second before Peter let loose webbing to tether the man there.
Peter rolled his shoulders, wincing from the sharp pain coming from one of them. He was correct in assuming he’d dislocated it fighting Deadpool. He’d try to get it back into place later, or his healing would heal it enough that he could still fight like that.
Stalking over to Weasel, Peter roughly grabbed one of the man’s hands and then a finger. When Weasel tried to say something, Peter pulled the finger back, ignoring the yelp of pain from the man. “We’re going to play a game now, Mr. Weasel. I get the feeling you might be familiar with this game, but I’ll be nice and explain the rules. I’m gonna ask a question, if you refuse to answer, lie, or make some dumb comment about my age, I’ll break your finger. If I run out of fingers, we’ll move onto wrists, and so on. And, just in case my age is still an issue, you’ll be happy to know Daredevil taught me this game, but he starts with breaking wrists.”
Peter looked the man dead in the eyes with a sinister grin. “Any questions before we start?”
“Holy shit, I’m being held up by Repunzel,” Weasel muttered to himself before yelping as Peter started bending his finger even further. Suddenly, words just fell out of his mouth. “Wait, wait- no- come on, you met Wade, he can’t shut up, I can’t shut up, that’s why we’re friends. I don’t do well with pain or blood, just calm down. I got it; no more Disney princess references or calling you kid.”
Peter released the finger to give Weasel a second to breathe. He gave a much more normal, happy grin. “Glad we understand each other. Now, tell me who hired Deadpool, or you’re gonna learn how much it hurts to break your fingers.”
Before Weasel could answer or ask about how mentally sane this kid was, the door swung open.
Domino’s boot clack on the wooden floor as she entered, carrying an armful of cheap Chinese takeout. “The guy decided not to charge me for the food, so lucky us, right?” She paused for a second when she noticed Weasel webbed to a wall and a demasked Spider-Man standing in front of him. Setting the food down on the nearby coffee table, she put a hand on her hip. She looked Peter up and down before smiling. “I take it you’re Spider-Man. Didn’t expect you to look quite so… Family film cartoon mouse-like, but it makes sense. I’m Domino, and I’m not letting this get cold, so if you want some food, you can take it, kid.”
Both Weasel and Peter couldn’t do much more than stare at her. Peter unfroze first. Why his spider sense didn’t seem to have any problem with the woman who was very clearly carrying two guns, Peter didn’t know. However, May had raised him to be polite with people who were nice to him, so he said, “No thank you, uh, Ms. Domino.”
The shrug and “suit yourself” Peter got only confused him more.
Weasel finally found his tongue and sarcastically snapped, “I hate to be the ‘a little help’ guy, but wanna give me a fucking hand?”
Domino half smirked, half smiled and merely said, “Nah, you’ve got it handled. Plus, I mean, imagine when people find out that you, wrangler and coordinator of vicious mercenaries, got held up by Rapunzel.”
Looking between the two, Peter felt less insulted when she compared him to woodland creatures or Disney princesses. The look of disbelief and betrayal plastered on Weasel’s face certainly helped.
“Are you- come on, this isn’t funny,” Weasel snapped.
“It’s a little funny,” Domino replied, pulling a box out of the bag before walking into the kitchen to grab a fork. “Just tell the kid what he wants to know, and he’ll stop menacing you.”
“Wade’ll be such a little bitch about it if I just tell the kid,” Weasel whined.
Peter didn’t hesitate to sock Weasel in the arm. “Stop calling me kid!”
Weasel used what little mobility he had to gesture at Domino. “Why does she get a free pass?”
“She didn’t tie me up or insult me over and over or break my phone!” Peter crossed his arms. “And she’s right. If you just tell me what I want to know, I’ll leave.”
Domino cut in, “Stop being such a pussy, Wease. Wade’s a pushover. Just tell him, so I can eat and watch tv in peace.”
With a loud and long sigh, Weasel relented, “Some guy named Turk came into the bar with a check under his name to hire Deadpool to kidnap, demask, and deliver you for torturing.”
“Wait, Turk- was his last name Barrett?”
“Oh good, you already know him, so you can unweb me and leave now,” Weasel replied, thunking his head against the wall behind him.
“Not done with my questions.” Peter ignored the man’s loud sigh. “Is that who Deadpool was trying to find and how fast would he find him?”
“Wade’s pretty good at finding people, but he only had a general idea of where the guy is.”
“What time is it?”
Domino was the one who answered, “Little before four.”
“Cool cool cool cool… I know where he is then, and I can get there before Deadpool kills him and figure this out.” Peter scooped up his mask where it laid on the counter before sliding it in place and going to the window. “Alright, well, thanks for the info finally! I’m glad I didn’t have to break your fingers, and nice to meet you Ms. Domino.”
Weasel squirmed in the web pinning him and yelled, “Wait, you’re not just leaving me here!”
Peter looked at Weasel for a second. “Well, I don’t really like you that much so making you stay like that for two hours seems fitting cause you’re definitely a bad guy, buuuut I’ll be nice.” Pulling out a vial of his dissolver, Peter tossed it to Domino. “If you use that on the webbing, it’ll dissolve in seconds, but if you don’t want to free him, you don’t have to. He can’t break out of those webs without that. They dissolve naturally after two hours.”
Domino set the vial down next to her food without even looking at it. “Thanks, Spidey.”
Peter gave her a smile before climbing out the window. He didn’t get very far before popping his head back into view. “Oh, by the way, I like, can’t really stop Double-D from coming here cause he still might even though I’ve already left and you broke my phone. If he does come through here, Ms. Domino, you should tell him you didn’t have anything to do with this and he’ll leave you alone.”
“Why can’t I tell him that?” Weasel asked.
“Because he’ll know you’re lying and he doesn’t really give extra chances when he goes to break bones. So, unless you’re ambidextrous, your right wrist being broken would suck. Just tell him I went to find Turk because that’s who made the request, and he’ll only hurt you a little.” Peter ducked down to leave again before a thought occurred and he popped back up. “Oh, also, can you tell him to call Deadpool or call him for Double-D cause I’ll probably find or be with Deadpool and that way Double-D can confirm that I really am okay. Sound good?” Peter didn’t wait for a respond. “Cool, bye again!”