Moral ambiguity was kinda Wade Wilson’s jam.
He slice, he dice, but most importantly, he smile nice, ya know?
But let it be said that Wade Wilson should not be a point of moral guidance. If you don’t know if you’re a good or a bad guy, find some fucker like Peter fucking Parker, and see where your unworthy ass falls in line.
Peter Parker was also his best friend. Not that he was boasting or anything. If Wade was gonna boast about anything, it would be that he’d scored the hottest cyborg of the century (yes that includes James Barnes, fuck you Tony.) but being friends with Peter fucking Parker was pretty high up on his things to boast about. Peter Parker was basically the pinnacle of goodness. This was something that basically the entire planet agreed on. Common knowledge. The sky is blue, Tony Stark and James Barnes are the ultimate power couple, Pepper Potts is the Queen of the Universe, Peter Parker is the epitome of pure, etcetera etcetera. So when Peter Parker rocked up on Wade’s floor in the tower, asking for moral advice, Wade thought it was pretty reasonable that he went to find his super hot, adorable, cyborg boyfriend to confirm that they hadn’t bamfed into another dimension.
“So let me get this straight Petey. You want me to educate you in the ways of being ambiguous. Murder-y ambiguous or just violently ambiguous? Because I’m gonna be real, pookums, methinks Matty may be a lil bit better if you’re gunning for violently better. I fall firmly, with excellent form and no knee damage I might add, into the murder-y category.”
Peter did that thing where he blinked up at him, all bambi eyes and innocence. Usually it was kinda adorable, but in the context, it was a tad disturbing. Bambi eyes and murder. Fun.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. Everyone else I could speak to on the murder side of things firmly hates captain America, and you’ve never really met him. Obviously we all hate him for what he did to dad but personally I mean. I just. I wanna come with you, on some of your mercenary missions. And I want you to explain what the person has done, and the knock on effects of you killing him and you not killing him. Like an experiment.”
“Are your dads okay with this? And your boyfriend? I’m not gonna lie here Peter Peter pumpkin eater, I’m scared Harley and Nate would team up and disintegrate me if I did anything to you without their explicit permission.”
Peter huffed and rolled his eyes, and a fond, brotherly warmth shot through Wade out of nowhere. Weird.
“You know Harley isn’t my boss right? Besides he has a competency kink bigger than dad’s. As long as I’m good at it, he doesn’t really care.” He teased.
“I’m using you as a human shield then Itsy.”
“Wade you’re immortal.”
“Did I fucking stutter?”
So that’s how Wade someone-insulted-my-boyfriend-so-I-gave-him-their-still-warm-heart Wilson ended up giving Peter I-couldn’t-harm-a-fly-and-I’m-half-spider Parker morality lessons.
This was his life.
Harley was gonna end him.
It started innocent enough. For murder. Kind of a grey area if you asked Wade, but considering his start to murder was at sixteen, being handed a rifle because he’d managed to convince the military that he was eighteen, he figured that twenty two and excellently supported was a pretty innocent start. Especially since Peter didn’t even hurt anyone for like..ages..
The first few months were simply introducing him to the difference between the kind of fuckers you kill, and the kind of fuckers you destroy. Y’know? Murderers get a headshot, rapists can die of blood loss through their dorsal vein, if you catch his drift. There was a couple jobs, but Wade mostly left Peter at home, whilst Peter decided if he agreed with the morals Wade had presented him with. Peter did accompany him on one, and had brought a notebook and everything, terrifying the fuck out of the poor guy. People know what to do when Deadpool comes knocking. There isn’t really a set precedent, however, for when Deadpool comes knocking, Spider-Man at his side, taking notes and asking questions with objective curiosity.
They catch the Widow a few months after that. Peter hadn’t intervened or joined in yet. He’d started accompanying Wade more though, started helping him scout out and get away, assisting in traps and the like. He was quite happy to rig the gallows, but he wasn’t quite ready to release the trap door. He’d load and cock the gun, with Wade’s careful assistance, and then hand it over for him to pull the trigger. He got a new tattoo too. Wade thought it was pretty dope. Harley, obviously, thought the bleeding Spider-Man logo Peter had had inked in the centre of his chest in black was the hottest thing on the planet, but Wade had seen Nate fighting with his katanas before, and the tattoo was nowhere near that hot.
Following that though, James and Tony decided that they wanted matching tats which led to super Soldier/extremis proof ink being developed with the help of Bruce Banner, which led to Wade Wilson proof ink, which led to a mafia style tattoo for every single family member.
Wade isn’t sure how James manages to make the simple “Наша семья” printed on his forearm look badass, or how the same letters in his looping 40’s cursive capture the media’s heart when curled around Tony’s wrist, but he doesn’t lose the fuzzy feeling in his chest every time he catches the words inked into his own skin, so he figures they’re entitled to it.
But the Widow isn’t entitled to anything. Especially not the snide remarks she makes about their family, about their tattoos and interviews and following the government around like good dogs. Wade was kind of interested in how much information she had, but so far everything she attempted to drag up was public knowledge.
They hadn’t meant to find her. They hadn’t even known she was in the city. They’d have picked it up if she’d actually done anything, but Wade was pretty sure she was just creeping around to dig into the sudden raise in Tony’s stocks, seeing as Tony filtered all family related news from the compound, so they had less ammunition.
Peter had caught her, actually, had heard her heartbeat, and then her breathing, and had told wade what he knew, and what he’d seen of her fighting. They laid a trap. Nobody expects spiderwebs to mean death in New York City. Usually it meant safety, or even a conversation with the arachnid. So she basically went willingly.
Peter even drew first blood.
Wade filmed it to send to Harley like a proud brother.
She’d been taunting for a while, and then suddenly, she’d honed in on Tony, and suddenly, there was a knife in her spleen. Goddamn James taught his kids well.
Peter was panting and growling softly, and there was blood on his mask and then he started demanding weapons, like it wasn’t his first kill.
He’d say “Ka-Bar.” And Wade would hand over the blade, Itsy would slice a little, dice a little, flash the camera a nice smile, and then ask for something else.
Wade had to admit, he was pretty impressed with how long the Widow stayed conscious. She was pretty silent too, but he supposed that one of James’ first orders when training the kiddos at the Tower was silence so that an enemy couldn’t gauge the impact of their hit, and their resident murder puppet was basically this bitch’s dad. Ew. Never thinking that again.
But all good things do, eventually, come to an end, and it was pizza night. Not as good as Mexican night, but came with stronger alcohol than Italian night, but less than with Russian night. Ah..Russian night. They didn’t even have specific food, and it was never a designated night. Sometimes, Winter just walked in with the strongest vodka he could find, and declared it, and they fell in line. No one else was allowed to do it, and Harley was the only inhabitant of the tower capable of persuading Winter to call it. Even Tony couldn’t manage. But pizza night came with beer and Asgardian mead and god Nate on Asgardian mead was the stuff of legends.
“Hey Pete it’s time to go. We gotta pick Pizza up on the way home.”
“Yeah..yeah..um...can you tell Harley to make me a hot chocolate? And ask pops if he’ll make the fort?”
“Course pumpkin.” He fired off the texts and dragged Peter back to the tower, picking up their usual order from the pizza place. (Wade was pretty sure that the tower inhabitants alone kept the place running, What with the metabolisms of so many enhanced people. James and Wade were the worst, but Tony and Peter weren’t exactly far behind, and everyone else still ate way above normal.)
There was something nice about arriving home to family. To swinging in through the official Spideypool window installed on the communal floor, and finding Harley and James throwing pillows at each other whilst trying to maintain the fort in the middle of the room, Tony and Nate both holding hot chocolate and laughing their heads off. Matt and Frank were snogging in the kitchen, and the other were curled up on the couch peacefully. Well. Wade was ninety percent sure that Jess was doing something nasty, and Pepper was probably helping Strange and Rhodey plan something borderline nefarious, but Jess would keep it below the blankets and they’d all be kept safe from the trio’s plotting. Probably.
“This is it honey. You know that right?”
“Yeah. I..should i regret it?”
Harley pushed the hot chocolate into Peter’s hands gently. “Baby that bitch hurt dad. If you wanna feel bad sure, but that’s one less person to hurt him.”
Peter nodded slowly. “Think they’ll be up to a sleepover in the living room?”
“No one can deny you anything Pete. Of course they will.”