"Stop looking at me like that, it's weird." The now eighteen years old commented at the mercenary. "I'm not paying you to watch me undress you perv."

The man laughed.

"Damn Spidey, you sure have grown a mouth since you've been here!" He mocked. "A real spider with a mouth, now, eh?"

With a grunt, the spandex wearing teen slammed the door in the man's face.

"Shut up," he simply said.

He finally managed to peel the suit off of him and let out a satisfied sight.

In the last two years alone, shit had hit the fan.

Sorry:

Explosive diarrhea had hit the fan.

The man known as Mysterio had ruined his entire life.

At sixteen years old, he had been forced to go into hiding.

Seeing as he didn't want to drag his aunt with his troubles, he simply left without saying goodbye.

As the manhunt was only getting stronger, he had no choice: he needed help.

Leaving the Earth wasn't an option since he didn't have Quill's nor Thor's number.

Leaving the country wasn't an option: he would be apprehended before he could do so.

And leaving the Big Apple was a smart choice: a very smart one. Perhaps one qualified too smart. A "Peter Parker" kind of smart or a "Tony Stark" one.

And so, seeing as he was the most wanted man by the FBI, Peter had became desperate: he called Wade Wilson, a well known mercenary for his mouth, his vulgarity and of course, his invincibility.

"And just so you know: a lot of people are offering millions simply to turn you over! It's not your tiny thousands that's keeping your cute butt alive, Parker!" The door cracked opened. "It's that jail bait attitude of yours," he dared to wink at the undressed teen as he closed the door behind him, leaving the embarrassed teen behind a mask of red cheeks.

Seeing as Tony Stark hadn't only left him Edith, a pair of high technology glasses, but also a small amount (Tony's words, not his) of a million dollars in his will, Peter had decided to hire himself the famous Deadpool.

Living in a hidden room inside the basement of Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children wasn't as fun as it seemed.

life was hell.

The bar upstairs was only quiet in between 10AM and 3PM, unless it was Monday.
Mondays were never quiet.

And since school, going outside, leaving the building, breathing outside the building or existing next to the exit of the building was a big fat no no for the sixteen years old, life was not only boring: it was hell.

His only company for more than half a year had been Deadpool's daily checkup on him. For what followed the next three months, let's just say that Weasel had found him by pure accident while searching something in the basement.

That evening, at 11PM, when Deadpool showed up, he was surprised to see the bearded man webbed to the floor.

"Peter? Why is Weasel covered in your spider cum all over the carpet?"

"You didn't answer your phone. You didn't come," Tears had rolled down the wanted teen's cheeks. "You promised you would protect me. You promised."

The terror Peter was wearing had made Wade feel extremely guilty, even though it shouldn't have.

"Sorry baby boy, I was out on a job and—"

"You were out on a job? ON A JOB?!" He got up, angry at the mercenary. "I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR JOB—"

"—Baby boy, Peter, not so loud, the soundproofing isn't that good in here—"

"—WHY AM I EVEN PAYING YOU IF YOU DON'T EVEN PROTECT ME?!"

"Peter, it's just Weasel," Wade tried to comfort to boy. "It's just weasel..."

He tried to put his hand on the small Avenger, but this latter took a step back on instinct.

"Don't. Touch. Me." He snarled.

"Peter?"

The teen had turned around and had began to make his bags.

"Peter what are you doing?"

"Leaving." He shot back.

"Leav— What? Peter it's not safe out there! You'll be dead in a week!"

He scoffed.

"Yeah? And what if it had been today? What if your "friend" hadn't been your "friend" but someone else? What if it was Banner? Or worse: The Hulk?!?"

"Peter, Bruce isn't trying to kill you—" Deadpool sighed.

"Oh yeah?" He got his phone, tapped the passwords, checked if his VPN was still on, opened YouTube and turned the screen to the mercenary. "Then explain this?"

"—In lure of the events surrounding the London attack caused by Spider Man, we have decided to join force with the highest tasks forces of the word to help find Peter Parker. Though we were doubtful of his crimes at first, it is clear that Mr. Parker is an extremely dangerous individual and should be apprehended the faster possible," Doctor Bruce Banner explained to the camera. "The Avengers are doing everything they can to capture the ex-vigilante known as Spider-Man. Even though my late partner Tony Stark had proclaimed Mr. Parker a member of the Avengers, it is refutable that the Avengers do not and will never accept Spider-Man as one of us.

"He is dangerous, unpredictable and unaware of the menace he posed to the world. Peter Parker will be apprehended, wether he is alive or not. If worse comes and I have to do it myself, believe me, Spider-man, the Hulk is the least of your worries."

The video faded to black.

"SEE WHAT I MEAN?! I'M DEAD!" Peter started crying. "I NEver! I never wanted to hurt anyone! I only wanted to make Mr. Stark proud! I only waNteD to-to-to ma-make him pRoud and I-I-I..."

His sobbing was getting louder. Wade un-webbed Weasel, let him leave with promises to explain later, closed the door and sat on the Spider's bed.

"Peter... Peter I am so sorry..." He hugged the young boy, feeling the wet tears rolling down his suit.

Waterproofing it was an excellent idea after the frozen lake incident.

"Look, forget about that okay? You're right. You're absolutely right: you were my job and I screwed up bad. C'mon, you're coming with me. It'll be safer for you if you never leave my side. Take your bags, we're leaving."

And that's how Peter Parker had ended up living with Wade Fucking Wilson.