Chapter Text
T Minus 286 Days
Saturday, Sept. 9
1:03 P.M.
Note to self: maybe try not to piss off the Sorcerer Supreme—exalted practitioner of magic, illustrious defender of reality, and gloriously arrogant asshole—next time you meet him.
In fact, if there was a next time Wade would probably grovel at his feet, and there were very few people he would do that for. Or at least, very few people he would do that for in a non-sexual way.
“Well?” he demanded, arms crossed defensively over his chest.
“Wade? Wade Wilson?”
Charles Xavier looked dumbfounded, his hands dropping from the wheels of his chair as if his mouth dropping wasn’t effective enough. Wade had expected a knowing smile, a roll of the eyes, and/or a wag of the finger, but apparently Charlie Boy hadn’t been paying attention to the minds of people outside of the school. That, or he’d been having mind-blowing sex with his on-again-off-again personal magnet.
“You do realize I can hear your thoughts,” Charles groaned, massaging his temples. A second later, his personal magnet appeared from somewhere else within the house to peer out at Wade in curiosity.
“I was right, wasn’t I?” Wade asked, completely satisfied when he spotted how mussed Erik’s hair looked. Good for them, being old but still getting it on like a couple of horny teens. He could only imagine the kinky stuff they’d done in their younger years, when they’d probably still had wicked hate sex.
“For the love of—Please stop with all of that. We’re not here to discuss my younger years. As a matter of fact, your younger years seem to be the case in point, considering…” Charles made an expansive gesture to Wade’s whole self. “All of this. How in the world did you manage it, anyway?”
“Read my mind,” Wade said smugly, despite the fact that it wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. Although, on the other hand it made perfect sense to be proud of it, kind of like a ‘I kicked a hornet’s nest and managed to be stung by every little fucker that came out of it’ pride. The results hadn’t been the best, but how many others could lay claim to that kind of fame?
“I’d rather not,” Charles muttered with a pained glance at Erik, who arched an amused brow. “Erik is only going to ask me to repeat the story later, anyway. You may as well come in for some tea while you explain it all.”
“Do you have anything stronger?”
“Not for you,” Charles called over his shoulder, already wheeling to his study. “I don’t serve alcohol to minors.”
Well shit.
Confused? Wondering why I’m considered a minor when I’m a twenty-five-year-old antihero who’s seen more than most one-hundred-and-twenty-five year olds? Let’s rewind.
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Countdown Not Initiated
May 3 - August 22
And All the Times in Between
“—nice to finally meet Real Life Harry Potter™,” Wade finished, hands clasped adoringly in front of him. “And I mean, personally I think you’re even cooler than Harry Potter because you have a freaking levitating cloak! Way cooler than invisibility! You don’t need to be invisible to drop girls’ panties with a levitating cloak.”
Stephen Strange finally looked up from some massive leather tome (probably made of human skin) he was reading to fix Wade with a piercing stare. He shut the book with a decisive snap, his cloak rippling as if it were just as annoyed as its master.
“I thought I asked you to leave ten minutes ago,” he muttered as he stood up to place the book in a way too overstocked shelf. Wade wasn’t sure if Strange had heard a single thing he’d said for the past few minutes, but it didn’t deter him in the slightest. He was going to become a wizard’s apprentice if it was the last thing he did, never mind that everyone said you needed sanity and the ability to concentrate for longer than five minutes. Haters were gunna hate.
“I don’t remember that. I do remember you saying that I have incredible potential, enough to become the next Sorcerer Supreme and pretend to be you so I can be friends with Spidey.”
“First and foremost, you’ll never be a wizard, let alone Sorcerer Supreme. We don’t even identify as wizards, anyway; not after that whole influx of Harry Potter fans thinking it was just like what Rowling wrote.
“Second… I don’t even wear a mask. Clearly we don’t look alike, so Spider-Man will never believe you’re me. Never. And third—” Strange spoke loudly over Wade’s protests, eyes a warning. “You need to leave my office. There’s a being interfering with alternate realities that I need to look into, and distractions are absolutely unwelcome. Go back to New York.”
Wade slumped in his chair, wondering if pouting would get him anywhere. Probably not, considering the man in front of him was friends with Spidey and pouting usually got him nowhere with Spidey either. That reminded him…
“Fine, we can wait until after you’ve dealt with whoever’s messing with dimensions to start my training. But you can at least tell me something about Spider-Man’s identity. I know you know him OOC; out of costume. Is he hot? Is he around my age? Does he work out? Does he—”
Strange waved a dismissive hand and Wade found himself back in New York. As annoying as it was, he was in awe of what wizards could do. He could only imagine what he would do with that sort of power. Probably blow people’s clothes off, make chimichangas out of thin air, fix his scars, totally impress Spidey next time they worked together…
The possibilities were endless.
So Wade went back to Tibet, which was the only physical place he could get to Strange from.
Strange threw him to Africa.
He chilled with a tribe for a while then went back to Tibet.
Strange flung him to Australia.
He lost a boxing match with a kangaroo then went back to Tibet.
Strange stuck him in that Mexican prison city, San Pedro.
He lost ten thousand bucks in poker games, called Weasel, then went back to Tibet.
Strange kicked him so hard his head almost fell off.
He walked the five blocks Strange had kicked him and knocked politely on the door.
“This is never going to end, is it?” Strange asked as he opened the door, hair dishevelled and cloak limp. It was a look of complete defeat, and Wade gave him a huge grin as he pushed his way into the training center and tossed himself into the nearest chair.
“Where to next, boss? This training is tough, let me tell you, but I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
“Doom is coming sometime within the next year,” Strange sighed as he seated himself across from Wade. “I need my doors open so more can come to train. I also need you to stop showing up here. This is most certainly an issue.”
“Oooh, that sounds ominous. What are we going to do?”
“There is no we. You’ll never be one of us and your coming here is a complete waste of both of our times. You could be useful in the upcoming war but you never seem to learn from your mistakes. Doom will take advantage of that and…”
Strange trailed off, looking troubled. Wade reached out and patted his knee comfortingly, which earned him a scathing look and an electric shock through his hand.
“I never was a good learner in school—learner? Is that a word you can use in this context? Well, it is now—but that was never an issue for me. My life may have royally sucked, but I turned out alright.”
You have us in your head.
We give him useful tips, though.
We tell him to kill things on a daily basis and enable his bad jokes.
Exactly! Useful! Heh.
“Yes, you clearly learned nothing from your days at school. There are more lessons than theory there; I only recently learned that myself. You need a similar experience and I can’t give that to you. You need to be taught in a different way than me. You almost need to…”
Wade waited while an uncharacteristically creepy smile grew over Strange’s face. For a second Wade thought Strange would lean towards him and whisper that he was going to teach him the Cruciatus Curse. Honestly, Wade could see Strange going either way; brave, stubborn Harry or full-on Voldemort. He leaned forward eagerly.
“Can we be Slytherins?”
“I can’t mess with time, but pulling a physical form from an alternate reality shouldn’t be too hard,” Strange murmured to himself. It sounded exciting. Whatever he was talking about. “That’ll work. Alright, this may hurt a pinch. I’d say try to relax but I don’t really care.”
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T Minus 286 Days
Saturday, Sept. 9
1:24 P.M.
“So he… what? Turned you into a teenager?” Charles asked, sucking back that Yorkshire tea. Erik burst out laughing, much more amused than anyone else in the room.
“Oh, it’s very clever, isn’t it, Charles?” he asked as Wade sat back in his chair, finished with the story. “You also know about him, so you could—”
“No, Erik,” Charles coughed out, pounding on his chest as he choked on his tea. “That is absolutely the worst idea anyone’s ever thought up. You’re worse than Wade.”
“Really? He came up with an idea worse than any of mine?” Wade clapped his (young, smooth, unscarred) hands happily. “What is it? Is it bad? Can we do it?”
Charles gave Erik a warning glance, and then they locked eyes, clearly having a little lover’s spat in their heads. Wade drummed his feet patiently on the ground while he watched Erik’s eyebrows dance and the line of Charles’s mouth grow flatter until Charles finally grimaced and threw his hands in the air.
“I don’t know why I bother. It’s not like I’ve raised a lifetime of young mutants, stopped wars, and turned some of the worst villains—” This said with a pointed look at Erik. “—good again. But oh no! Why should my opinion in this matter at all? What a ridiculous notion.”
The smile Wade and Erik shared was like a heartwarming father-son bonding moment. Wade didn’t miss the way Charles’s frown deepened at their bonding, as if there could possibly be some sort of problem with Deadpool and former-supervillain-Magneto teaming up.
“So what is it?” Wade asked again, more eager now than ever. He’d at first thought being a teenager was amazing; scars gone, hair back, body of a seventeen-year-old in relatively good shape. Until he’d realized his ID didn’t work anymore and no one would serve him alcohol or hookers. Plus, his goddamn mood kept bouncing all over the place, acne kept appearing in weird places, and apparently he no longer healed when hurt. Not to mention he no longer fit the suit so he might not get to work with Spidey anymore. Oh, and the narbs. No apparent reason boners.
“You have two options,” Charles said tightly, still glaring at Erik. “You can stay here and take classes or we can make you papers to go to a high school in New York.”
“Actually, I was kind of hoping you could call the good doctor and ask him to make me… well, me, again. That’s why I came here. He threatened to send me to the bottom of the ocean if I came back to bother him one more time and, I mean, I’m not opposed to it or anything, but I need my healing factor to do that. Pretty please?”
Charles closed his eyes, the room falling silent for a second, then opened them and shook his head.
“Stephen says he’ll turn you back if—and only if—you manage to accumulate an average of over 80% within your classes on your final report.”
Wade’s jaw dropped, and for once in his life he was speechless.
Did he say 80?
Maybe he meant 18. There was no way he said 80, right?
We can’t possibly be expected to actually do school. He’s clowning.
Charles shook his head.
He’s not clowning. Motherfucking fucker fuck shit.
Not only that, but they all expect us to be a teen for an entire school year. A year.
No Spidey for a year?
We’ll make another suit.
How do we be Deadpool when we have to worry about homework?
Silence.
“I’m a twenty-five-year-old man,” Wade said indignantly.
“Then hopefully this will teach you to act like it,” Charles replied. Wade looked to Erik imploringly but Erik only shook his head in pity.
“When it comes to redemption, Charles won’t give up,” he offered apologetically. “Since he sees this as a way to redeem you, you’ll have to put up with it. My recommendation? Go to the school in New York. Trust me.”
“I hate you, dads,” Wade muttered petulantly, which yes, wasn’t exactly the most mature statement he could’ve made, but he would have to find a way to have fun with this. Somehow. He wouldn’t be getting any 80s, but he could at least make generic teen jokes. “You guys don’t, like, get me. You don’t, like, understand my generation.”
“Here or New York?” Charles asked, ignoring Wade’s antics. “Luckily for you, the school year’s only just begun so you won’t be disruptive—” He saw Wade’s look and amended his statement. “—you won’t have to worry about missing too much. You also should try to not be disruptive, though. As difficult as it may seem, you may find life can be surprisingly simpler when you act kinder.”
“I’ll take New York,” Wade sniffed with a glance at Erik. “And listen, I know I may not miss much, but your second statement? You’re definitely clowning. Normal life may be simpler, but there’s absolutely nothing that can make high school life simpler.”
“Alright, I’ll give you that,” Charles admitted, a small smile playing on his lips. “High school isn’t exactly an easy time. But you’ll get used it.”
T Minus 284 Days
Monday, Sept. 11
8:15 A.M.
It was only the first day of his second week back and Peter already knew he wouldn’t get used to grade twelve. Just like he hadn’t gotten used to grade nine. Or ten. Or eleven. This particular day had started off alright; Aunt May had his breakfast made, he’d only had to save one person before school so he hadn’t been late, and Tony Stark had called to say he was in the process of making Peter a second suit.
He’d actually thought things were going to work out for once. Until Flash Thompson caught him distracted, searching his locker for the biology textbook he’d been sure he hadn’t forgotten at home. His senses had told him someone was behind him but he’d thought it was Ned and ignored it even when he sensed something being raised over his head. Big mistake.
“I heard you like milk, Parker,” Flash snickered as he dumped an entire milkshake all over Peter’s head. Peter stood there, frothy white trickling down his back and making his shoes soggy, while the rest of the hall laughed. He reached up and wiped the milkshake from his eyes, anger making his jaw clench. He didn’t have to take this shit. He was Spider-Man.
He whipped around, half-ready to punch the smirk off of Flash’s face, when he caught sight of Liz stalking down the hallway. He quickly dropped his fist, wiping his face off as best he could while people flattened themselves against walls to make room for her.
“Flash Thompson!” she snapped, and Peter saw Flash’s face contort in fear a second before Liz reached him.
“Liz, I—I—”
“What the hell did I tell you about messing with Peter? Or messing with anyone, for that matter?”
“I’m sorry, I guess I just—”
“You guess nothing. I see you pulling this crap one more time and I’ll slap you into next Sunday.”
Ignoring the way Flash’s mouth fluttered as he tried to come up with excuses, Liz turned to Peter and reached up to unfold the scarf at her throat.
“I’m sorry, Pete,” she said gently as she stepped forward and wiped his face. Peter’s heart skidded to a halt at her closeness, colour rising to his cheeks as he tried not to look like a complete idiot. Liz was wiping him off with her scarf. She was looking at him like that, with an apologetic gentleness that made him dizzy. She knew his name. Yeah, she was basically perfect.
“It’s okay,” he managed to get out as the bell rang. She bit her lower lip, watching as the other students fled to their classrooms so as not to be late.
“I have to…”
“Yeah, yeah, no, it’s fine,” Peter babbled, willing to say anything to make her happy. “You go ahead, I’ll just get washed up and… Yeah.”
“You sure? Okay, keep the scarf, then. It’s the least I can do after what that jerk did.”
With a roll of her eyes, Liz pressed the scarf into his hands and gave him a finger waggle, turning to walk down the hallway. Peter fell against his locker, heart pounding as he watched her go, head somewhere up near the Orion constellation. It didn’t matter how confident he was when it came to being Spider-Man; he always turned into a mess around the girl he liked.
“Dude, did my eyes deceive me?” a familiar voice asked, and Peter snapped out of his thoughts, turning to see Ned come up behind him. “Did the gorgeous, amazing Liz Allan just deign to speak to a plebeian such as yourself? That’s like, some Galadriel talking to Frodo shit. If Frodo wasn’t carrying the ring and Boromir had just dumped a milkshake on him.”
“Are you seriously comparing Flash to Boromir?” Peter snorted as he shut his locker and tried in vain to get the rest of the liquid congealing on him off. “I think you’re forgetting that he turned out to be a good guy in the end. There’s no way Flash is a good guy.”
“Then what does Liz see in him?”
And there was the downside of the school’s most beloved cheerleader. For whatever reason, something about Flash attracted her and she had yet to break up with him despite him sneering down at anyone whose parents made than less than seven figures. Peter would never understand it.
“Maybe someday she’ll realize her mistake,” Peter said wistfully, imagining himself saving her as Spider-Man and then sweeping her off her feet. Actually, no. Reality intruded and he realized that if that ever happened, Deadpool would freak out. Deadpool always freaked out when he carried women princes-style. He claimed the only one Peter should carry princess-style was him, and Peter was never one hundred percent certain if it was a joke. Knowing him, probably not.
“And get with you? You wish. I mean, no offense, man, but you’re kind of… nerdy.”
“He’s nerdy?” a voice laughed from behind them, and Peter didn’t need to turn to know that it was Michele Gonzalez, the only person in the school who managed to be both a social outcast and cool at the same time. “You’re both losers.”
She brushed past them with a pitying shake of her head at Peter’s milkshake predicament, and Peter and Ned sighed simultaneously.
“Thank you, Allison Reynolds,” Peter called as she neared the end of the hallway. She casually flipped him the bird over her shoulder, not bothering to look up from a battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye as she walked. Peter wondered how she was able to make being an outcast seem so classy. He definitely needed lessons.
“Anyway, I gotta get to class too, so I’ll let Mr. Warren know you’ll be late. Oh, and watch out for the new kid. Apparently there’s some guy coming in today who was homeschooled and Warren wants you to be his science tutor.”
“Great,” Peter groaned as Ned shrugged and walked off. Second week and he’d already gotten a milkshake shower and a student to tutor. At least things were going well with Liz; not only did she know his name, she’d given him her scarf.
He brought it to his nose, inhaling the scent of her subtle perfume while he entered the bathroom. Okay, he was probably definitely entering levels of serious creepiness.
“Science… Science? AP Science? What the shit?”
Peter lowered the scarf, staring at the guy standing in front of the bathroom mirror and mumbling as he read over a sheet of paper. Wow. He was… Wow. Strong jawline, tall figure, messy blond locks he was holding back with long fingers… He had the whole package. Peter suddenly felt inadequate standing near him, dressed in jeans and an oversized shirt with a physics joke. This guy was dressed like he’d just stepped out of an 80s fashion magazine; long shorts low on his hips, form-fitting jean jacket, biker boots, and shades.
“I mean; they could have at least had the decency to put me in the special needs class. This is ridiculous. I’m going to die. No, I don’t mean literally. …I don’t fucking know. Do you think it’s possible? Since I’ve…”
The guy ceased conversing with himself, head jerking up as he realized Peter was standing there staring at him. Peter flushed, ducking his head as he chose the sink furthest away from the guy, and started wetting Liz’s scarf. He had no idea who this guy was but he wanted nothing to do with anyone who looked like they could be an enforcer in some sort of gang. The last thing he needed was to blow his cover as a weakling by getting in a fight.
He had been studiously avoiding looking at Blondie, scrubbing at the milkshake, when the feeling of someone creeping up beside him made him jump a couple of steps back. Blondie had tilted his shades down his nose with a single finger and was looking Peter up and down in a way that definitely shouldn’t be legal.
“That isn’t what I think it is, is it?” Blondie asked, a wicked smirk on his face. “I mean… I’ve got no problems if it is. I just didn’t realize school had become so… er… progressive.”
It took Peter a second to realize what Blondie was implying, but when he did his face got so red it rivaled the colour on his Spider-Man suit. He was used to banter as Spider-Man, but as Peter Parker, where everything was so much more personal… He kind of wanted to die, then and there.
“No. Jesus, no, it’s a milkshake, okay? That kind of thing isn’t…”
He shook his head, flustered, and contented himself with getting the last of it off of his shoes while Blondie continued to watch him, that annoying smirk growing. Peter knew that look all too well and he wanted to kick a hole through the wall. It was the look of someone who had just found the perfect prey to pick on, the look of someone who wouldn’t leave him alone for the rest of his high school career. Seriously, how unlucky did a guy have to be to be picked on by two bullies?
“What’s your name, kiddo?” Blondie asked as Peter finally finished up. Kiddo. As if adding to the insult that Peter was tiny and was probably about to get his ass kicked.
“Peter Parker,” he muttered in a low voice, waiting for the punch to come. He had resigned himself to taking it, if only so that this guy didn’t start spreading rumours that Peter had some kind of crazy reflexes. He didn’t need that getting out.
“Peter Parker…” the guy said, as if tasting the name. After a moment, he grinned brightly.
“I’m Wade Wilson. You can call me Wade, or Wilson, or anything you want just as long as you call me.”
Peter blinked rapidly, unsure if he should still be prepping for a punch or if this was some kind of psychological bullying. It didn’t take long for him to get his answer.
Reaching out, Wade grabbed his chin and tilted it up, blue eyes sparkling over the rims of his sunglasses as he leaned down. Peter was so frozen in shock that he couldn’t move; he stood there like a deer caught in headlights, heart jackhammering harder than it had when Liz had been close. He should totally punch this guy’s lights out, flip him over his shoulder, shove him away. Was this how his first kiss was going to be? Stolen in a dingy bathroom by a guy he’d never seen before?
Wade’s tongue darted out and ran a strip up Peter’s cheek, making Peter shiver.
“Mm! It is milkshake! Sorry, you missed a spot and I couldn’t help it,” Wade laughed as he leaned back, smacking his lips. “That was nice. Anyway, see you around, kiddo. It was nice meeting you.”
Whistling an off-key tune, Wade strode past him and kicked the bathroom door open, proceeding off somewhere down the hall. Peter stood there, knees weak as he clutched Liz’s scarf to his chest. He didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t even begin to process the amount of things he was feeling, let alone move from his spot. All he knew was that Wade terrified him more than any enemy he’d ever faced as Spider-Man and as Peter.
Oh well. If he’d never seen Wade before, maybe it meant he was in a younger grade? Right? Probably?
T Minus 284 Days
Monday, Sept. 11
8:35 A.M.
Wade arrived at science class about… ohhh, say fifteen minutes late. Never mind that Charles had insisted on dropping him off early on his first day or that Erik had told him to make sure to get to class on time. He’d had to scope the place out, find the best hidey holes and see what clubs you could sign up for. Football? Definitely. Chess? Yep. Water polo? Of course. Cheerleading? Oh yeah. Who cared that they conflicted and gave him less time in class? The reason they were fun was because they gave him more time out of class.
And there was another thing he’d had to do. Something to immediately gain him street cred among these little shits.
When is it coming on? Do you think he actually listened to us?
We paid him a thousand bucks. He’d better fucking do it.
Yeah, but principals usually don’t do that kind of thing.
He was amused, though. He’ll do it for shits and giggles. Plus, we threatened to kill his family if he didn’t or if he called the cops on us.
Sure enough, the PA crackled to life overhead a moment later. Wade adjusted his jacket, resting one hand on the classroom door handle. You either made a scene or you faded into the obscurity that was the high school hierarchy. Wade definitely wasn’t going to do the latter. The beat started up and Wade grinned his widest, throwing the door open.
♩ She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene ♩
Wade strutted in, M.J. style. The teacher stopped mid-lesson, open-mouthed.
♩ I said don't mind, but what do you mean, I am the one ♩
The class perked up from their bored positions as he spun at the front of the room, nodding his head to the music. As the song continued, people began to giggle and clap until the whole room was laughing, including the teacher.
“BILLY JEAN IS NOT MY LOVER!” Wade sang at the top of his lungs, moonwalking the shit outta that. His audience exploded into applause, some people beginning to sing along. The only one not singing along was, ironically enough, the pretty milkshake boy from the bathroom. He was staring at Wade, pale-faced and shocked, as if Wade had just moonwalked into his life and asked him out.
So Wade slid across the floor (which is fucking hard to do in combat boots, I’ll have you know) until he was right in front of Peter’s desk. He spun once then offered his hand to Peter, who shook his head mutely and looked appropriately horrified.
“Come on, Parker!” one of the girls hooted from the back. “Show us your stuff!”
Peter sank lower in his seat and looked desperately out the window as if that could somehow protect him from the scene in front of him, his eyes only flickering once to a pretty little thing in front of him. Wade instantly moonwalked to her and spun her out of her seat.
“Billie Jean…” he began, nodding to her.
“…is not my lover!” she giggled as he twirled her. He could feel Peter’s eyes on them now and he internally laughed. High school boys were so predictable. He finished the rest of the song with the girl, making sure not to look at Peter the entire time now. If there was one thing he was good at it, it was wearing people down until they had to do what he wanted. In this case, he wanted Peter to lighten up a little.
“You must be Wade Wilson,” the teacher called over applause and wolf-whistles as Wade released his dancing partner back to her seat.
“Thank you, thank you,” Wade said self-importantly, before nodding to the teacher. Did entertaining a class gain you brownie points that boosted your grades? “Yes, I am. Happy to be here. It’s lovely to meet all of you guys and gals and others.”
The teacher chuckled a little more at that before showing Wade to his seat.
“You’ll be sitting next to Mr. Parker. Since you were homeschooled, I figured you could use all the extra help you could get to catch up, and Mr. Parker here is one of our best and brightest. He can also assist you with getting to know the school and what we have to offer.”
“Sir!” Peter gasped out, looking mortified. “I can’t really—This semester is—I—”
“Nice to meet you again,” Wade chirped, sliding into the seat Peter’s science partner had just vacated. “I think we’ll be great friends.”
“—on’t think so,” was all Wade caught from whatever Peter had said. Oh well. Even if Peter had no faith, Wade did. By the end of the semester, Peter would cry when Wade had to leave.
T Minus 284 Days
Monday, Sept. 11
11:12 A.M.
Peter wanted to cry. When he’d first met Wade, he’d been unsure what kind of opinion to form, but now he knew. He hated Wade. He hated the way Wade interrupted the class by stage-whispering questions about the lesson that made everybody laugh. He hated the way Wade got up in his personal space to look over his answers. He hated the way Wade was already friends with everyone in the entire school after they’d heard about the Billie Jean thing. And most of all, he hated the adoring way Liz looked at Wade every time the guy walked into the room.
In fact, it was at the point where he’d rather tutor Deadpool for an entire semester and put up with the sexual innuendos about homework than Wade goddamn Wilson and his hundred-watt smirk.
“Dude’s pretty cool,” Ned said through a mouthful of fries as they sat as far away from humanity as possible and watched cheerleaders and football players alike fawn over the new kid. Wade noticed Peter watching and raised his hand to wave cheerfully, which made everyone glance over and laugh. Peter turned back to his own untouched tray.
“He’s an asshole,” Peter muttered, stabbing the ketchup viciously with a fry. “I hate him and I want to be as far away from his as possible. Heck, I’d rather hang with Flash than him.”
“Harsh,” Ned laughed, cramming more chicken in his mouth than should be humanly possible. “It seems to me this is more about a certain girl than about Wade’s personality, though. I mean, guy’s pretty perfect. He moonwalked into science class and in the brief time I talked to him, he made two Star Wars references and an Alan Wake reference. Alan Wake, Peter. Fake gamers don’t know that.”
“He’s even stealing my best friend,” Peter told his fry sadly. It wilted over from the weight of the ketchup. Peter took it as a sign of agreement.
“He may have everyone else fooled, but he doesn’t fool me for a second,” Michele said as she dropped into the seat beside Peter. Peter and Ned stared in astonishment; Michele never sat with anyone. She was cool enough that she could probably sit anywhere save with the cheerleaders and football players, but she enjoyed reading more than social interaction. Ned actually reached up and rubbed his eyes.
“You don’t like him either?” Peter hedged, exchanging an eyebrow arch with Ned.
“Nope. He saw me reading The Catcher in the Rye and told me he likes catchers and rye, so he’d probably like the book. Seriously? Who’s never heard of Holden Caulfield? And…”
She leaned forward, forcing Peter and Ned to lean forward as well despite the fact that the nearest people were two tables away.
“He didn’t get my Game of Thrones reference.”
“Bullshit,” Ned said immediately, drumstick slipping from his fingers. “He knows Alan Wake. How can he not know Game of Thrones?”
“It’s his weakness,” Peter gasped with a snap of his fingers. “If we talk in GoT references, he won’t know we’re plotting against him.”
“Hold on… plotting against him?” Ned asked, now looking hopelessly lost.
“He’s clearly faking his whole persona if he doesn’t know about GoT. We need to protect Liz from him,” Michele explained slowly, as if Ned was five. Ned wrinkled his nose in confusion.
“Why do you care?”
“Because Liz is totally hot and I heard she dated another girl in middle school,” Michele said triumphantly, leaning back with a ‘so there’ expression. Peter swallowed. Wow. That certainly widened the competition playing field. On the one hand, he could definitely see the appeal other girls could have, especially someone as savvy and sarcastic as Michele. On the other, he did have the fact that he was Spider-Man going for him. There weren’t many others who could lay claim to that. Even though he couldn’t actually claim it.
“So what do we do?” Peter asked, content to let Michele take the lead on this one. She deserved it for finding out the GoT thing.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re tutoring him. You can keep him distracted while I look for dirt and try to keep Liz away from him.”
“That means you’re getting more time with Liz though,” Peter complained, feeling like he was getting the short end of the stick.
“And yet there’s no other way. Your choices are between me and him,” Michele mused, steepling her fingers like some sort of villain. Peter glanced over to where Liz was laughing, face bright and open as she slapped Wade’s shoulder in a friendly way. Peter heaved a sigh; Michele was clever. Too clever. Still, he liked her more than Wade, so he’d rather see her and Liz together than Wade and Liz.
“Fine. I can’t believe I’m going to have to spend an entire semester cozying up with this guy while you get to hang with the girl of my dreams. They’d better make you his tutor next semester.”
“Well, maybe,” Michele said vaguely in a voice that suggested she didn’t think it was possible at all. “Anyway, your main goal right now should be to get to know him better. Anytime he’s around and we need to discuss the plan, Game of Thrones references only. Liz, of course, is our hot dragon mama Khaleesi. I’ll be the foxy, badass Missandei. You two are Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly. Capeesh?”
“I don’t know how I’m even involved in this whole thing, but alright,” Ned said agreeably. “I just think you’re missing out on a perfect opportunity to make me Ned Stark.”
“Too obvious, even for someone who doesn’t watch GoT. You’re Samwell Tarly. Oh, and Wade… he’s Joffrey.”
Peter spit the milk he’d been drinking all over the table, banging on his chest as he laughed.
“This is me… trying not to sob in laughter…” he choked out, Ned patting his back. Michele rolled her eyes.
“And this is me…” She stood up, flipping sleek brown locks over her shoulder. “…on my way to steal your girl.”
Tucking her book under her arm, she strode confidently out of the cafeteria, pausing to give Liz a wave that Liz returned with a lovely smile.
“One question, though…” Ned spoke as he began wolfing down Peter’s untouched meal. “…What about her, you know, real boyfriend? Flash?”
Peter watched as Wade crooked a finger and Liz leaned down to listen to him say something in her ear, placing one hand over her mouth and looking mock-scandalized at whatever he’d said. Flash watched the two of them with the most resigned expression Peter had ever seen him wear.
“Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”
T Minus 284 Days
Monday, Sept. 11
2:23 P.M.
Liz sat beside Wade, one shapely leg crossed over the other as she clicked her pen on and off, concentrating on the lesson. She was hot, Wade would give her that, but more than that; she was terrifying.
After his little show, he’d wanted to get to know Peter better, but Liz had grabbed him after class and dragged him into the little boy’s room, slamming the door shoot and locking it.
“I don’t do sex before the second date unless the first date blows my mind,” Wade informed her. Which wasn’t strictly true, but she didn’t need to know that.
“And I don’t do sex before the fifth date under any circumstances,” Liz shot back, a smile curling across her mouth. “I locked the door because I want to talk secrets. I know you have some because a liar can spot a liar. Mine is that I’m not as perfect as I let on. I don’t know what yours is but it doesn’t matter. You’re not nearly as attracted to me as you act, are you?”
We’re seven hundred percent more interested now.
We have to stay a virgin for Spidey, remember?
Hahahahahaha.
“Objectively or subjectively?” Wade stalled, not quite sure what she wanted to hear. She laughed and leaned against the door, shaking her head ruefully.
“It’s a good thing, Wade Wilson. I don’t want to lead someone who’s attracted to me on, which is why I decided not to ask this of Peter.”
“So you know he’s into you?”
“It’s kind of obvious. And I mean, he’s adorable and everything, but I think he likes me because he thinks I’m a nice girl. I’m not nearly as nice as I act. The truth is, I love Flash. Sure, he’s an asshole on the outside, but I know him better than anyone and he has his reasons.”
Wade nodded along, his interest waning. He was more interested in getting back out there and lightening Peter up than wasting time talking with some chick about her ex.
“So you want me to do… what?”
“I want you to flirt with me so I can act interested and Flash will think he’s losing me. It isn’t to make him jealous or make him clingy or anything; it’s because he doesn’t believe me when I threaten to leave him if he doesn’t change. I can’t stand him picking on everyone.”
Trivial. High school kids worry over the most trivial things.
Peter needs a new crush.
But we’re taken! Our heart has been webbed away!
Deadpool is taken. Wade Wilson isn’t.
Breaking his heart won’t lighten him up though.
Do it anyway!
“What do I get out of it?”
“What do you want?”
It took Wade a total of one second to come up with an answer.
“Peter Parker.”
Liz blinked, clearly taken aback by his answer. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, then peered at him suspiciously as if trying to decide whether he was serious or not. He kept his face as serious as it could go, trying not to think about unicorns, sex, or haikus.
“You want him as in you want him?” Liz asked hesitantly, trying to gauge his reaction. No, he didn’t want want Peter. Peter was cute and easily flustered and smart, but it wasn’t like Wade was in love with the guy. Or ever could fall in love with someone so naïve and innocent, let alone someone in high school.
“Nah. I just want the kid to lighten up a little. He doesn’t seem like he enjoys his high school life and that’s shitty. High school isn’t a time to be serious and freak out over grades; it’s the place where you’re supposed to have the time of your life!”
For a second he thought he could literally feel Charles’s disapproval radiating through his head. To be honest, it wouldn’t even surprise him, since Charles had basically adopted his pimply-ass teen self.
“You want Peter to lighten up,” Liz scoffed, shaking her head admiringly. “Never going to happen. I’ve known him since grade school—we’ve been going to all the same schools except middle school—and he’s always been serious about education.”
“Grade school?” Wade batted his eyelashes. “Oh wise one, please impart thy dirt upon me.”
Liz tried not to smile and failed, shaking her head again.
“You’re insufferable. Pete’s parents died when he was young so he lived with his Aunt and Uncle. He had a close group of friends through grade school that I guess kind of broke up when they all went to different high schools. Two girls and a guy, I think? I don’t know, I haven’t seen them in forever. He was never bullied with them, but the bullying started in high school when everyone other than him grew up. It hasn’t really stopped, and the only friend he has now is Ned. Oh, and his Uncle died two years ago so he’s been having a hard time since. Grades slipping, late for class, gets into fights outside of school… or so I’ve heard.”
What? No. Nooooo. There’s no way he gets into fights outside of school.
Have you seen him? You could blow and he would fall over.
When you say blow—
Well, that too. But that’s every guy.
“Before I say anything else… fights? Seriously?”
“Maybe it’s more accurate to say he gets beaten up or something,” Liz mused, her eyes softening as if she considered Peter a sad little puppy. Which, to be completely honest, he was. He had the tragic backstory, the doe-eyes, and just the right amount of awkwardness.
“Me and a couple of the other girls on the squad have noticed it. He comes in with limps sometimes, and Flash told me one time he took off his shirt and had a bruise that took up his entire body. It can’t be his Aunt; she came into grade school sometimes and she’s the sweetest lady ever. So maybe her boyfriend or something? I don’t know. Just… be nice to him, okay? He doesn’t deserve anything bad happening to him.”
Wade brought two fingers to his forehead, tipping them in a salute. So Peter was a smart kid with an abusive father figure and only one friend? That made it a little more depressing. Generic, yes, but still depressing.
“I’ll get to the bottom of whoever’s hurting him,” Wade said with a solemn nod. He’d have to make a list of steps as to how he was going to do that, but he’d do it. Then, instead of getting good grades, he would show Doctor Strange how kind his heart was and Strange would turn him back. Right? Wasn’t that how it worked in fairy tales?
“If that’s the case, count me in. I’ll do whatever I can to make sure you and Peter become friends. Partner.”
Liz offered her fist and they devised a secret handshake that put every NBA handshake to shame.
Now, sitting beside her in class, he couldn’t help but think she was a force to be reckoned with. Kind of like a hurricane. People didn’t usually get him to help them in their plans; it was usually him manipulating them into helping him free of cost. She was impressive.
Noticing Wade’s look, Liz smiled as flirty as possible and slid him a note that had Flash trying to peer over his shoulder. He shielded it from the rich kid’s eyes, reading the title over and smirking in approval.
Operation: Protect Peter Parker.
Unbeknownst to him, as he sat there reading through Liz’s note in math class, Peter sat in psychology and read over a note from Michele. Titled:
Operation: Wreck Wade Wilson.