[He really hates how hard Wade can make it, to be frustrated with him. Here he is, ready to talk him away from throwing his anger around like a baseball bat on the network, and Wade decides to just disarm him with one swoop. But it's like Felicia's told him before, right? He's a sap and he's easy to tug around by the collar. He just stares with weary sympathy at the upturned household and gets to see in stunning surround-sound clarity what angry helplessness looks like instead of the wrung-out kind that sometimes leaves his own place looking like shit and his stupid plant not watered. Again.
He carefully pats his back, letting his chin sit on the taller man's shoulder, and sighs through his nose in defeat. Yes, defeat. He's defeated before he's even began. You happy, you wrecking ball?]
Of course I am. Remember, I said I wasn't dying? 100%? I'm unsinkable. Like the Titanic.
....
Wait, no no, the Titanic sank.
I'm unsinkable, like a rubber duck.
[It's not all that playful in tone and is maybe a smidge too sentimental, but it's an attempt at a joke. He's a laugh riot.]
[ Wade couldn't find anyone to hurt anyway. The best he'd gotten was some vague bullshit about "when the town is sick, the town is sick" whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.
He's very happy that Peter is okay again, if that makes him Miley Cyrus, he'll take it.
Wade stays where he is just hugging him and trying to overwrite the screaming in his brain that was saying Peter is dying, Peter is going to die, what if he doesn't come back like the others do? So it's probably pretty evident when he lets out a huff of a chuckle. ]
Are you trying to get me to think about you in the bath? Because I will happily draw you like one of my French girls. [ When wade pulls back, it's not far, and it's only to look at Peter's face, his gloved hands coming to his cheeks to tilt his head this way and that. ] You healed up pretty fast, huh? [ He can't get the memory of Peter in that cot, his skin mostly wounds. And even if he's delighted that Peter's doing better, he can't help but look distressed just at the memory of how horrible of a state he'd been in. ]
[Huff. But a humored one, at least. He's still worried as all hell, which is only fair with all the misery he'd put his friends through the last... hell, month. He doesn't even make a snarky remark or a grumpy comment on the manhandling of his face; that's when you know his guilt is strong and his concern grave. Stupid Spider-Emotions, he's always getting them.]
Yeah, really fast. I think the cure hit me harder than it did some of the other people...
But they're getting better, too. Just after a, uh — hell of a detox.
[It was one of the most painful things he's ever endured, and he's pretty sure he freaked out everyone in the tent when he started spewing black all over the edge of the cot's frame. The Doctor might've even had Clara on speed-dial to say they accidentally killed him. Maybe. Anyway.]
How're you doing? Honesty's the best policy, by the way.
[ That's all good news, it means Cabes should be coming home -- shit. Maybe Wade should just... move into the forest for a while like a hermit... His hands release Peter's face, sweet prince it was nice while it lasted. ]
Detoxes suck. I did a vodka cleanse once. Don't remember much of it if we're being honest.
[ But what's new there. Especially now when he's getting skull blasted by bullets on a regular basis. Sometimes things slip through the cracks. Maybe he should keep a diary like in that vampire show.
Wade steps back, arms reaching behind him to flail and find the doorknob and pull the door closed. ... Hehehe.... 💦 ]
Thanks Ben Franklin, I'll remember that when I'm turning in the big red body condom and becoming a nun. [ Look at that evasive maneuver. But he's enjoying this languid Peter. And no, he's not really doing much better, his brain feels like claws down a chalkboard, and he's been having on and off angry temper tantrums since his network post. But here he is, trying to shove that all behind the door, literally. ]
You look like you could eat, you wanna grab a pizza or something? I'll buy. [ If he just forcefully changes the topic, it'll go away, right? ]
[He just gives Wade such a look at 'vodka cleanse'. But you know, he'll let that one go, because — well, he's not privy to even 99.999% of the terrible things Wade's probably done to himself. As the door closes, Peter dips a hand around Wade's and pushes the door right back into openness with a pointer finger.]
Ooor we could clean up the mess you made, before Cable comes back pissed off at you. [Sure, he's still concerned, but in that way that implies he's also a little exasperated. Seems like a good balance to keep, when it comes to Wade.] Maybe I'll even hold off on talking about things like Dr. Phil, just a little.
[... Ignore that he's a little breathless. He's still tender and recovering.]
... What? You guys don't get to clean my place and then never let me return the favor.
[ He stays still, letting Peter reach by him and push it back open. So much for hiding that... ]
Cable's already pissed at me. It's his default setting. The switch just got stuck when he traveled back in time to be a major pain in my ass. You should have seen him when we first met. He broke my spine like... Twice. But haaa, still didn't kill Russell so who really won that one? [ Oh, he's rambling. ]
Why are you talking about things like Dr. Phil?
[ But wade sighs, and seems to give in to what Peter wants, turning back around to make his way inside, kicking debris on the floor out of the way to make a walking path for Peter. ]
Make yourself at home -- [ Oh, no, abrupt stopping. Saintly Pete cannot see his drugs. God knows what he'll try to do. Talk to him about DARE or flush them, or...NOPE.
Nevermind, he's turning back around. ] Actually better idea: pizza, somewhere that isn't my place.
[Peter puts his hands on his hips, and gives Wade a Look. Just because he was almost genuinely dead, like, a few days ago doesn't mean he's going to let the guy off the hook for whatever stupid thing he was hiding. Warily:]
... Is there something in there that's gonna piss me off?
[Because you seem really, deeply invested in finding pizza.
And yeah, Peter's favorite food other than wheatcakes is pizza —
Is this a you'll get off with a warning instead of jail-time if you don't lie to the cops situation? Can I phone a friend?
[ Oh, oh no, look at him, he's wringing his hands like a nervous kid. ]
I have a lot of things that'd probably piss you off -- I've probably done a lot of things that would piss you off. Did you read about the guy that jumped into the polar bear enclosure at the zoo? I'll give you three guesses who that guy was and the first two don't count.
[ This probably isn't doing him any favours but maybe it'll work to get Peter to let him off the hook. ]
[He sounds a little overwhelmed and stressed out at the thought of every word out of the man's face, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He doesn't seem to say much more than that — but he does absolutely move past Wade as he's wringing his hands, moving to try and walk right into the home with a Purpose in his walk.
[ Those sure are gloved hands going to Peter's shoulders and pulling him to a stop before spinning him around. Ah, they've played this song and dance before. ]
I feel like I should get five minutes to hide my unmentionables. I couldn't have you seeing all my naughty off-brand Avengers sex toys right? I'm kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm kidding. [ He doesn't have any :( But he would 100% have Spider-Cock if he could find it. Both the toy or the real thing. ]
There is definitely at least one thing in there that you're going not going to be very sunglasses emoji about. Maybe two.... You're gonna yell and then I'm gonna panic and yell and maybe we can just not yell?
[He turns JUST as he's about to stumble upon Wade's powdery little hilltop on the table, looking at him with a wrinkled nose. And maybe puts a hand on the nearest wall, because he's admittedly a little winded; sometimes you just kinda forget you almost died, you know? Especially when you're friend is doing questionable things you gotta curtail.]
What's this one thing? What the hell've you been up to, while I've been half-dead???
[ Wade's hands are immediately moving to his sides to help brace him up, out of reflex more than anything. Wade's gaze falls past him to the mess on his table as Peter asks the question, something easy to tell with the way his head turns slightly. His voice has a sharper tone to it when he speaks again. ]
Are you supposed to be out and about?
[ Peter, it's not your job to keep him from hurting himself or doing terrible things. ]
Or are you supposed to still be in bed staying well hydrated?
[He glowers a little at him, because that's not the focus here, and he knows Wade is genuinely concerned — but also, he has to know it's a means of distraction.]
I'm fine. I've been getting better faster than a lot of other people.
[Skinnier, still weak in the knees, and still working with pink, agitated marks everywhere, but fine.]
What I'm more worried about is you getting sick and trashing your place and trying to get into fights with Halloween costume rejects on the network — right after you left the medical tents. I mean, I know I was half out of my mind, but did you think I didn't notice you vanish halfway through the fiftieth time I forgot my name?
[A pause.]
... Exactly how much am I going to hate whatever you're looking at over my shoulder?
[ The hands that had moved to help him stay up withdraw tentatively. ]
Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look fine. You're still one of the babest babes there is but maybe a babe who needs a nice long nap and some vitamin C.
[ Sure, it is a distraction, but wade does care. He cares more about Peter's health than he does his own. ]
I'm not sick anymore. The old gal decided her vacation was over and healed me up all good. And that asshole deserves it. I would love to make his insides outsides any day. [ Oh, no, his metaphorical hackles are rising. He seems to realise this though, and settles down a bit. ] I went to get you more chocolate, got some bad news. I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry for vanishing. I - [ Got into a fight with one of the mountain people and made them angry? ] delivered the chocolate, didn't it get to you?
[ Is there a sign on Wade's door that just says come on over at the worst time? ]
A lot. But it's one of the only things that kept me from working my way through the locals until I found out who knew about the shit in that hole to hell.
[ There isn't an ounce of humour in his voice. He means it. ]
... So you don't want to talk about it, but you do want to totally wreck your place and pace around on the feed.
[Wade, bud, Peter is not a healthy person by any means... but love yourself. Christ.
He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly recuperating as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's really, really not trying to be holier-than-thou; sure, being a superhero kind of leaves a lot of time for that, especially when generally destructive hobbies are involved, but this? This is more like a pal who knows intervention isn't gonna really change anything.
Intervention meaning everything ever in Wade's life, but you know.
Still.
He turns and looks at the table, and almost immediately swivels back around to make a disapproving face at his friend.]
Wade.
[Do you hear the very long lecture that has somehow been rolled into one single utterance of his name? Do you?]
Yes. Those things and talking about it aren't mutually excusive.
[ You're doing him a big Stress, Pete. Especially when he makes that kinda face. Not that Wade's not used to disapproval from just about every faucet of his life. ]
Peter.
[ Yeah, he tries to match the tone, but it doesn't quite work.... huh. ]
Due to personal reasons, I now keep my powdered sugar on the table?
[ A beat and then with a hint of agitation. ] Well, now that you've gotten your goodwill out of the way for the day, may I help you with anything else?
[ Sorry, he's in a bad way still and he's not ready for the actual drugs are bad, mmmkay? lecture. ]
It's not just about goodwill, you idiot! It doesn't matter if you miraculously heal from whatever you're doing to your body — you think I wanna see my friends treat themselves like garbage?!
[He feels a migraine oncoming. Cool beans.
Swaying slightly before making his way into this poor wartorn home (potentially with a bit of a stomp in his step, yes), he begins to start picking up after the place with a sort of pissed off silence that implies he really is too steamed to talk to Wade directly right now.
Clearly cleaning up will ease his fury. Yes.
He's gonna clean the FUCK out of this place, mildly ill or not.]
[ Either Wade catches on that he really shouldn't be prodding Peter with conversation, or he's thoroughly baffled by what Peter had just shouted at him. That doesn't mean he stays quiet, quite the opposite, he keeps a running one-sided conversation with... god knows who. The subject of said conversation can very clearly hear him.
He lingers in the same room, picking stuff up and jamming it into a trash bag as he yammers. ] Taking all bets on when he's going to decide he doesn't want to be my friend. I said no takebacksies, I should give him an out. Do you think a little IOU slip would work?
[ He ties the end of the bag and tosses it to the floor with enough force to make all the things inside the bag sound pretty fucking terrible. Look, there's only so much of this that he can take before he tries kicking the hornet's nest. Peter should be honoured Wade waited this long, typically he doesn't have this much patience. ] You're sorta making this hard for me. [ Oh, wow, okay, this is how he's going about it. ] I don't know what to say to you to get you to stop steaming your broccoli in my house. [ So, pretty much, going about this horribly. Hornets? They just wanna be your friend, right? ]
[Peter swivels to glower at him, a sort of I'm disappointed in you, son look that is probably not the most pleasant response Wade was hoping for. But then again, the sickly, grumpy guy holding a pillow that has clearly been physically abused by Emotions is not the best choice in company right now.
This asshole. This asshat. This jerkwad.
Nothing makes his broccoli steam less, knowing Wade doesn't get it.
Ugh, he feels like he's gonna puke. Everything feels like a hangover.
[ The mean mugging Peter aims his way has Wade's head jerking back a bit, and then he goes and does that and Wade just watches him for a moment. Is this productive? It feels like a couple steps back, if we're being honest.
Wade stares a bit owlishly if the expression of his mask is anything to go by. ]
This is probably a bad time to tell you I'd probably still snort that off the ground, right? Kidding! Probably kidding. Mostly kidding. Let's not actually get into the specifics of how much I was kidding.
[ He's not doing much to put Peter on simmer instead of boil, is he? ]
Feel better? [ He'd probably be more stressed if that was all of his cocaine. ]
Can you just - [ Well, at least he doesn't seem afraid of Peter, because he's suddenly moving close enough to put his hands on both Peter's shoulders. ] stop for a second.
[ You are STRESSIN' him out. ]
I get it, you're going to huff and puff and blow my house down if I don't let you get your frustration out. You almost died. I thought you were going to. [ And suddenly Wade is pushing Peter back until he's against one of the table chairs, trying to make him sit. ]
[He shakily sissy-slaps those hands, resisting sitting as much as possible.
Sick, he's not sickly, he's 100% healthy again.]
Yeah, and I came back to find out you had a mini-meltdown and wrecked your house while I was out of commission.
[Oop, no, his legs are still wobbly. He falls into the seat like Wade cut some invisible strings on him, looking a little bitter at the fact that his body still feels like jello. Ugh. It's almost as if you don't just skip merrily out of a tent after nearly dying. Something in him seems to finally relax for a second, his outrage quelled, and his shoulders and head sag.]
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He carefully pats his back, letting his chin sit on the taller man's shoulder, and sighs through his nose in defeat. Yes, defeat. He's defeated before he's even began. You happy, you wrecking ball?]
Of course I am. Remember, I said I wasn't dying? 100%? I'm unsinkable. Like the Titanic.
....
Wait, no no, the Titanic sank.
I'm unsinkable, like a rubber duck.
[It's not all that playful in tone and is maybe a smidge too sentimental, but it's an attempt at a joke. He's a laugh riot.]
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He's very happy that Peter is okay again, if that makes him Miley Cyrus, he'll take it.
Wade stays where he is just hugging him and trying to overwrite the screaming in his brain that was saying Peter is dying, Peter is going to die, what if he doesn't come back like the others do? So it's probably pretty evident when he lets out a huff of a chuckle. ]
Are you trying to get me to think about you in the bath? Because I will happily draw you like one of my French girls. [ When wade pulls back, it's not far, and it's only to look at Peter's face, his gloved hands coming to his cheeks to tilt his head this way and that. ] You healed up pretty fast, huh? [ He can't get the memory of Peter in that cot, his skin mostly wounds. And even if he's delighted that Peter's doing better, he can't help but look distressed just at the memory of how horrible of a state he'd been in. ]
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Yeah, really fast. I think the cure hit me harder than it did some of the other people...
But they're getting better, too. Just after a, uh — hell of a detox.
[It was one of the most painful things he's ever endured, and he's pretty sure he freaked out everyone in the tent when he started spewing black all over the edge of the cot's frame. The Doctor might've even had Clara on speed-dial to say they accidentally killed him. Maybe. Anyway.]
How're you doing? Honesty's the best policy, by the way.
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[ That's all good news, it means Cabes should be coming home -- shit. Maybe Wade should just... move into the forest for a while like a hermit... His hands release Peter's face, sweet prince it was nice while it lasted. ]
Detoxes suck. I did a vodka cleanse once. Don't remember much of it if we're being honest.
[ But what's new there. Especially now when he's getting skull blasted by bullets on a regular basis. Sometimes things slip through the cracks. Maybe he should keep a diary like in that vampire show.
Wade steps back, arms reaching behind him to flail and find the doorknob and pull the door closed. ... Hehehe.... 💦 ]
Thanks Ben Franklin, I'll remember that when I'm turning in the big red body condom and becoming a nun. [ Look at that evasive maneuver. But he's enjoying this languid Peter. And no, he's not really doing much better, his brain feels like claws down a chalkboard, and he's been having on and off angry temper tantrums since his network post. But here he is, trying to shove that all behind the door, literally. ]
You look like you could eat, you wanna grab a pizza or something? I'll buy. [ If he just forcefully changes the topic, it'll go away, right? ]
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Ooor we could clean up the mess you made, before Cable comes back pissed off at you. [Sure, he's still concerned, but in that way that implies he's also a little exasperated. Seems like a good balance to keep, when it comes to Wade.] Maybe I'll even hold off on talking about things like Dr. Phil, just a little.
[... Ignore that he's a little breathless. He's still tender and recovering.]
... What? You guys don't get to clean my place and then never let me return the favor.
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Cable's already pissed at me. It's his default setting. The switch just got stuck when he traveled back in time to be a major pain in my ass. You should have seen him when we first met. He broke my spine like... Twice. But haaa, still didn't kill Russell so who really won that one? [ Oh, he's rambling. ]
Why are you talking about things like Dr. Phil?
[ But wade sighs, and seems to give in to what Peter wants, turning back around to make his way inside, kicking debris on the floor out of the way to make a walking path for Peter. ]
Make yourself at home -- [ Oh, no, abrupt stopping. Saintly Pete cannot see his drugs. God knows what he'll try to do. Talk to him about DARE or flush them, or...NOPE.
Nevermind, he's turning back around. ] Actually better idea: pizza, somewhere that isn't my place.
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... Is there something in there that's gonna piss me off?
[Because you seem really, deeply invested in finding pizza.
And yeah, Peter's favorite food other than wheatcakes is pizza —
which makes it all the more suspect.]
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Is this a you'll get off with a warning instead of jail-time if you don't lie to the cops situation? Can I phone a friend?
[ Oh, oh no, look at him, he's wringing his hands like a nervous kid. ]
I have a lot of things that'd probably piss you off -- I've probably done a lot of things that would piss you off. Did you read about the guy that jumped into the polar bear enclosure at the zoo? I'll give you three guesses who that guy was and the first two don't count.
[ This probably isn't doing him any favours but maybe it'll work to get Peter to let him off the hook. ]
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[He sounds a little overwhelmed and stressed out at the thought of every word out of the man's face, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He doesn't seem to say much more than that — but he does absolutely move past Wade as he's wringing his hands, moving to try and walk right into the home with a Purpose in his walk.
Danger, Wilson Robinson.]
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[ Those sure are gloved hands going to Peter's shoulders and pulling him to a stop before spinning him around. Ah, they've played this song and dance before. ]
I feel like I should get five minutes to hide my unmentionables. I couldn't have you seeing all my naughty off-brand Avengers sex toys right? I'm kidding. I'm not kidding. I'm kidding. [ He doesn't have any :( But he would 100% have Spider-Cock if he could find it. Both the toy or the real thing. ]
There is definitely at least one thing in there that you're going not going to be very sunglasses emoji about. Maybe two.... You're gonna yell and then I'm gonna panic and yell and maybe we can just not yell?
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What's this one thing? What the hell've you been up to, while I've been half-dead???
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Are you supposed to be out and about?
[ Peter, it's not your job to keep him from hurting himself or doing terrible things. ]
Or are you supposed to still be in bed staying well hydrated?
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I'm fine. I've been getting better faster than a lot of other people.
[Skinnier, still weak in the knees, and still working with pink, agitated marks everywhere, but fine.]
What I'm more worried about is you getting sick and trashing your place and trying to get into fights with Halloween costume rejects on the network — right after you left the medical tents. I mean, I know I was half out of my mind, but did you think I didn't notice you vanish halfway through the fiftieth time I forgot my name?
[A pause.]
... Exactly how much am I going to hate whatever you're looking at over my shoulder?
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Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look fine. You're still one of the babest babes there is but maybe a babe who needs a nice long nap and some vitamin C.
[ Sure, it is a distraction, but wade does care. He cares more about Peter's health than he does his own. ]
I'm not sick anymore. The old gal decided her vacation was over and healed me up all good. And that asshole deserves it. I would love to make his insides outsides any day. [ Oh, no, his metaphorical hackles are rising. He seems to realise this though, and settles down a bit. ] I went to get you more chocolate, got some bad news. I don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry for vanishing. I - [ Got into a fight with one of the mountain people and made them angry? ] delivered the chocolate, didn't it get to you?
[ Is there a sign on Wade's door that just says come on over at the worst time? ]
A lot. But it's one of the only things that kept me from working my way through the locals until I found out who knew about the shit in that hole to hell.
[ There isn't an ounce of humour in his voice. He means it. ]
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[Wade, bud, Peter is not a healthy person by any means... but love yourself. Christ.
He closes his eyes for a moment, clearly recuperating as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's really, really not trying to be holier-than-thou; sure, being a superhero kind of leaves a lot of time for that, especially when generally destructive hobbies are involved, but this? This is more like a pal who knows intervention isn't gonna really change anything.
Intervention meaning everything ever in Wade's life, but you know.
Still.
He turns and looks at the table, and almost immediately swivels back around to make a disapproving face at his friend.]
Wade.
[Do you hear the very long lecture that has somehow been rolled into one single utterance of his name? Do you?]
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[ You're doing him a big Stress, Pete. Especially when he makes that kinda face. Not that Wade's not used to disapproval from just about every faucet of his life. ]
Peter.
[ Yeah, he tries to match the tone, but it doesn't quite work.... huh. ]
Due to personal reasons, I now keep my powdered sugar on the table?
[ A beat and then with a hint of agitation. ] Well, now that you've gotten your goodwill out of the way for the day, may I help you with anything else?
[ Sorry, he's in a bad way still and he's not ready for the actual drugs are bad, mmmkay? lecture. ]
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[He feels a migraine oncoming. Cool beans.
Swaying slightly before making his way into this poor wartorn home (potentially with a bit of a stomp in his step, yes), he begins to start picking up after the place with a sort of pissed off silence that implies he really is too steamed to talk to Wade directly right now.
Clearly cleaning up will ease his fury. Yes.
He's gonna clean the FUCK out of this place, mildly ill or not.]
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He lingers in the same room, picking stuff up and jamming it into a trash bag as he yammers. ] Taking all bets on when he's going to decide he doesn't want to be my friend. I said no takebacksies, I should give him an out. Do you think a little IOU slip would work?
[ He ties the end of the bag and tosses it to the floor with enough force to make all the things inside the bag sound pretty fucking terrible. Look, there's only so much of this that he can take before he tries kicking the hornet's nest. Peter should be honoured Wade waited this long, typically he doesn't have this much patience. ] You're sorta making this hard for me. [ Oh, wow, okay, this is how he's going about it. ] I don't know what to say to you to get you to stop steaming your broccoli in my house. [ So, pretty much, going about this horribly. Hornets? They just wanna be your friend, right? ]
1/3
This asshole. This asshat. This jerkwad.
Nothing makes his broccoli steam less, knowing Wade doesn't get it.
Ugh, he feels like he's gonna puke. Everything feels like a hangover.
He stares for a moment in true Parker judgement.]
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A big sad poof of white dust drifts down to Peter's left, rendered useless.
Rest in spaghetti, never forgetti.]
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Wade stares a bit owlishly if the expression of his mask is anything to go by. ]
This is probably a bad time to tell you I'd probably still snort that off the ground, right? Kidding! Probably kidding. Mostly kidding. Let's not actually get into the specifics of how much I was kidding.
[ He's not doing much to put Peter on simmer instead of boil, is he? ]
Feel better? [ He'd probably be more stressed if that was all of his cocaine. ]
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Where's your vacuum?
[No he doesn't. Give him your goddamn cleaning supplies.
He's going back to cleaning. All wobbly-like.]
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Don't have one.
[ Yes, he does. It's in the coat closet. ]
Can you just - [ Well, at least he doesn't seem afraid of Peter, because he's suddenly moving close enough to put his hands on both Peter's shoulders. ] stop for a second.
[ You are STRESSIN' him out. ]
I get it, you're going to huff and puff and blow my house down if I don't let you get your frustration out. You almost died. I thought you were going to. [ And suddenly Wade is pushing Peter back until he's against one of the table chairs, trying to make him sit. ]
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Sick, he's not sickly, he's 100% healthy again.]
Yeah, and I came back to find out you had a mini-meltdown and wrecked your house while I was out of commission.
[Oop, no, his legs are still wobbly. He falls into the seat like Wade cut some invisible strings on him, looking a little bitter at the fact that his body still feels like jello. Ugh. It's almost as if you don't just skip merrily out of a tent after nearly dying. Something in him seems to finally relax for a second, his outrage quelled, and his shoulders and head sag.]
... I'm just tired.
[Jokes on you, Peter. You're always tired.]
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