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A Side to Wade Wilson That Multiple People Have Seen, But Haven't Lived to Talk About

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"Wade, shut up," Clint groans from where he sat on the couch.

Wade grinned, pulling the arrow that the archer had shot at him earlier from his shoulder. "Never, buddy. So— I gotta ask, this place is so big, how do you guys keep it so clean? Maids? Butlers? Ooh, is it fancy robots, Mr. Stark?" Wade asks, tossing the arrow to the ground by Bruce.

"Hmm, how about why? Why do you care? So you can clean up your mess?" Tony retorts, glaring from his spot by the window, where he was awkwardly positioned, his Iron Man mask cracked and sideways on his face.

Deadpool rolled his eyes as he went back to the coffee maker, "of course, silly. Or maybe I should leave it like this? I bet it would be sweet for someone to find you guys like this! Ain't that right, Jarvis?"

Wade stared at the ceiling, waiting for an answer he knew wouldn't come. "Oh, of course, Mr. Wilson," Wade mocks in a faux British accent. Tony rolled his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of "He doesn't sound like that."

"Deadpool, how long are you going to stay here? Like this?" Steve suddenly said. Wade glanced at him in confusion.

"Why, what do ya mean, Cap?"

Steve stared at him coldly, and Wade bet that the ice-ice-baby wished he could lift his head from his spot across the coffee-table. "Talking to us. Pretending everything is fine," the man says.

"Look, Cap ol' iceberg—" Wade chuckles, stopping as he's interrupted by a sudden uproar of chatter from them all.

Natasha spoke the loudest, "you'll be found out, Wilson! Leaving your mess here?"

"Oh, Nat, I-I always wished you were nice to me. Maybe I wouldn't have—"

"Some one will see. You can't hide this, man, it's everywhere," Clint growls.

"Look, smaller and less bald Vin Diesel—"

Thor joined, "It is indescribably foul, too! Man of Dead Pools, why—"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Wade screamed, voice rough and muffled, sounding like a furious snarl at all of the uncomfortably loud voices that paced back and forth in his head.

The Avengers quited down, staring at the mercenary. Wade held the coffee pot handle in his hand, the rest of the pot shattered on the ground from him smashing it on the counter.

"You shut the fuck up, that's what you fucking misfit Power Rangers are gonna fuckin' do, or I'm gonna shove more of my goddamn lead down your stupid-ass fucking throats!" Wade roared, the eyes of his mask narrowed in a heavy glare.

Tony and Steve went to speak at the same time, pausing when the elevator suddenly rang.

Wade's head quickly twisted in the direction of the elevator, and the Avengers stared at him with a look that said, "Well, what are you going to do now, you red-suited bafoon?"


Peter was already confused when nobody at the front of the building answered him or was there, and it was even stranger when he noticed that not really anyone was around.

When he stepped into the elevator to head to the main floor, he was taken aback to not be greeted by Jarvis when he stepped in.

He shrugged it off, assuming that maybe the AI was malfunctioning today. His Spidey-sense wasn't going haywire or anything, either, so it was safe to assume it was probably just a technological issue.

He waited patiently as the elevator slowly went to the main level; where the Avengers resided and relaxed. He actually was here to report to Tony and let him know that he took care of the mission he was sent on to go spy on Oscorp.

Competition, right? (Like you wouldn't believe.)

Peter sighed as the elevator stopped at the main level, ringing lightly to alert him that he reached the floor.

But upon stepping into the room, Peter almost threw up into his mask.

The Avengers were... Everywhere.


Steve Rogers was on the coffee-table, his own shield splitting him in half through the stomach, blood pouring down the wood. Clint Barton was positioned on one of the couches, his bow put around his neck like a necklace with his decapitated head sideways on top of his neck, arrows straight through his hands and holding them to the seat's arms. Bruce Banner was on the floor, his face beaten black and blue and the right corner of his head was bashed in. A katana went through his chest, like it was holding him down. Tony Stark lay against the wall, his suit and mask severely damaged. It looked like his face was smashed against a hard surface multiple times; his nose was positioned sideways and a katana — like Bruce — was going straight through his chest and through his arc reactor. Natasha hung from the ceiling by her right foot, her left leg missing. Her face was bloody and bruised, and a knife remained in her head, going directly through the skull. Thor lay by what was easy to assume was Sam's arm, his hammer left by his feet and his face smashed in similar to Tony and Bruce's. Sam's body was by Clint on the couch, and he appeared as a dissection gone wrong; he was gutted brutally and blood dried at his mouth. Bucky's metal arm was torn off and by his feet, bulletholes covering his chest and a large blade in his mouth, pinning his head to the floor.

There, in the midst of it all, stood Deadpool, holding a shattered coffee pot.

Peter immediately tugged off his mask and fell to his knees, puking all over the floor. He choked out a sickened sob.

"Spidey!" Wade gasped, "revealing your identity on the first date? How sweet!" The merc cooed sweetly, as if he hadn't ruthlessly mutilated the entire Avengers.

Suddenly, like a massive headache, Peter's spidey-sense went wild. He groaned and let out a yelp as a gloved, bloody hand grabbed him by the collar, picking him up.

Wade's masked eyes squinted happily, "Aww, don't look so upset, Spide—"

"You fucking sick bastard!" Peter screamed, tears filling his eyes as his voice cracked. He took a shakey breath quickly, "I trusted you! Oh, my God, I fucking trusted you."

Wade visibly pouted. "Don't act so disappointed, baby boy. I promise they put up a good fight!" The mercenary gazed off at the ceiling, "ahh, it was patriotic. The way they wailed for me to stop. Especially poor Brucey when I got Natasha. Ooh, you should've seen the shock when I stabbed those arrows through Clint's pretty—"

"Shut up! Ah, g-god, shut up," Peter whimpered, feeling his stomach begin to push up more vomit.

Wade suddenly turned his head, "Hey! Fuck off!"

Peter stared in further disbelief as the man argued with the corpses, rambling to them loudly. How... How could this man go from being this flirtatious sweetheart one day, to a goddamn crazed, psychotic murderer the next day?

Peter didn't realize the Wade had finished barking at Sam's body until he was suddenly being shoved down on the floor. Wade held him by the throat with unseen strength, and Peter flinched as he heard a disgusting wet sound as Wade ripped his blade from Bucky's mouth.

"W-Wade," Peter choked out, letting out a strangled cry as Wade mercilessly buried the knife in the side of his stomach. Peter's eyes widened and his mouth hung open, blood immediately rising up his throat.

"Babe, you and your buddies were just one little mission. One little do-with-be-done. All I had to do was gain your trust," Wade explains slowly, Peter emitting slight grunts and cries as the blade buried farther into his side. "Earn a little lovin', and..."

Peter released a wrenched yowl, Wade forcing the knife down his side and cutting into him.

Wade reached up with his other hand, sliding his mask up to reveal a malevolent grin against scarred skin. His laugh was deep and gravelly, "ya know. Get rid of you."

Peter gasped and coughed blood as Wade retrieved the knife, getting off of him suddenly and standing. Peter gasped for breath, Wade's madly pleased expression turning a little sad. "To think I was startin' to gain some feelings for you, ya cute bugger," he says, chuckling bitterly. "Couldn't have that, now, could I?"

"Y-you're disg-g-usting," Peter chokes out, Wade only shrugging and sighing in response.

"Yeah. I know."

The grin returns, and Wade leans down, planting a light kiss on Peter's forehead. "You should be happy I like you so much, Spidey. Or else I wouldn't end your suffering this quickly."

Peter choked on his blood in response, laying weakly and struggling slightly as Wade sat on top of him, pulling his pistol from its holster. He cocks it, Peter's eye twitching as the cold barrel pressed against his forehead.

Wade blows a kiss, smiling devilishly.

"Night-night, babe. Tell the Avengers I said hi."

And one last shot rang through the Avengers tower.