cosmicforce
teens of denial
Nineteen was a weird age. Old enough to vote, but not old enough to drink in 1/2 of North America (he could always go to Canada, but why would he do that?). Too old for High School but not old enough for a real steady job and though he was smart and witty as hell, there was no way he'd have time to go to University while also being Spiderman.
Spiderman.
It had been a little over three years since the bite and he still didn't quite understand what was happening to him half of the time. Sure, he fought the bad guys and went through his weird combination of superhero puberty and regular puberty. He learned to swing from buildings and shoot a gun and fought a few times alongside the Avengers, but beyond that, what was his point? Was this what he was going to do until the day he died?
All of these questions and more swam through his head as he lay in his childhood bedroom, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. He counted each one in an attempt to forget about it, but nothing helped. He was close to calling Tony and saying he quit when his phone rang, on his glowing screen in big letters: NICK IS A FURRY? is calling... it made him giggle despite his stress and he just watched it for a few seconds in amusement before picking up and pressing it to his ear, "Good evening Mister Furry...uh...Fury." He tried not to laugh more.
Fury was all business, but a lot of it went over Peter's head because he was already getting dressed after the first words. Some bad guys, blah blah blah, patrol mission, blah blah blah. But then...
"I'm assigning you a new partner." Fuck. "Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. He's a menace, kills before he thinks but I'm sure you can keep him grounded." No, no I really can't. "I'm sending over more information on him and the guys we're looking for right now. Read it over and meet him on the top of your apartment building in 30 minutes." Double fuck.
Fury hung up before Peter could get a word in at all, and soon the teenager was left in the privacy of his own bedroom. Just him, his suit, and the goddamn glowing stars.
Aunt May was solid asleep in the room next door. Peter could hear her snores echo through thin walls, and he left a note on his bed before shimming out his window and onto the fire escape:
Went 2 Ned's. Be home tmmr morning. lov - P
By the time he made it to the roof the side of his building was coated in webs, and there were only five minutes until his new partner was expected to show. Peter took a seat on the edge, overlooking Queens with a soft kind of smile. Realistically, something bad was happening somewhere - hell, probably just down the street - but from this high up everything looked peaceful. "MJ would love this," He mumbled to himself, pulling his mask up over his eyes to get a better look.
Three minutes until his partner showed up.
Two minutes.
One minute.
Nothing. Peter guessed some sort of superhero would be running behind, but then he got to five minutes after the set time and there was still no Deadpool and for a moment Peter wondered if maybe he should just head out on his own.
( JaCrispy )
Spiderman.
It had been a little over three years since the bite and he still didn't quite understand what was happening to him half of the time. Sure, he fought the bad guys and went through his weird combination of superhero puberty and regular puberty. He learned to swing from buildings and shoot a gun and fought a few times alongside the Avengers, but beyond that, what was his point? Was this what he was going to do until the day he died?
All of these questions and more swam through his head as he lay in his childhood bedroom, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. He counted each one in an attempt to forget about it, but nothing helped. He was close to calling Tony and saying he quit when his phone rang, on his glowing screen in big letters: NICK IS A FURRY? is calling... it made him giggle despite his stress and he just watched it for a few seconds in amusement before picking up and pressing it to his ear, "Good evening Mister Furry...uh...Fury." He tried not to laugh more.
Fury was all business, but a lot of it went over Peter's head because he was already getting dressed after the first words. Some bad guys, blah blah blah, patrol mission, blah blah blah. But then...
"I'm assigning you a new partner." Fuck. "Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. He's a menace, kills before he thinks but I'm sure you can keep him grounded." No, no I really can't. "I'm sending over more information on him and the guys we're looking for right now. Read it over and meet him on the top of your apartment building in 30 minutes." Double fuck.
Fury hung up before Peter could get a word in at all, and soon the teenager was left in the privacy of his own bedroom. Just him, his suit, and the goddamn glowing stars.
Aunt May was solid asleep in the room next door. Peter could hear her snores echo through thin walls, and he left a note on his bed before shimming out his window and onto the fire escape:
Went 2 Ned's. Be home tmmr morning. lov - P
By the time he made it to the roof the side of his building was coated in webs, and there were only five minutes until his new partner was expected to show. Peter took a seat on the edge, overlooking Queens with a soft kind of smile. Realistically, something bad was happening somewhere - hell, probably just down the street - but from this high up everything looked peaceful. "MJ would love this," He mumbled to himself, pulling his mask up over his eyes to get a better look.
Three minutes until his partner showed up.
Two minutes.
One minute.
Nothing. Peter guessed some sort of superhero would be running behind, but then he got to five minutes after the set time and there was still no Deadpool and for a moment Peter wondered if maybe he should just head out on his own.
( JaCrispy )