Chapter Text
Peter was sitting at the bar, playing with the bowl of nuts he’d snatched from the old guy in the wheelchair without so much as a ‘sorry’. The paraplegic hadn’t seemed to mind, although he’d given Peter a long, searching look that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His eyes had reminded him of Mimic’s, even if the old guy had blue eyes instead of red.
[There are too many people here.]
{Can we kill some of them?}
[All of them.]
Peter tossed a nut into the air, catching it between two fingers and crushing it without any apparent effort. “I figure we could maybe take down half of these guys before they killed us,” Peter mused, letting the nut dust crumble through his fingers. The woman sitting closest to him – her hair was white, was that a new trend? – looked at him with disgust before moving away.
“And that’s only because I’m not armed!” he called, smirking to himself when the woman glared at him over her shoulder. And then he sighed, staring at the ridiculous amount of bodies crammed into the lower floors of Stark’s tower.
[Oh look, Wade’s the life of the party.]
“Of course,” Peter replied, glaring at the suited up hero. “It’s his party.”
That’s right. Stark had thrown Wade a party. And invited everyone and their cousin.
Peter didn’t really know anyone. He didn’t exactly care, either. There was a hot guy hanging with a pretty blonde – seriously, he’d brushed past the guy earlier on and it felt like his skin was on fire. There was a blue-skinned man, a guy with horns, a guy with wings, as well as an assortment of other random people that Peter would have preferred never to meet.
There hadn’t been any real reason for the party that Peter knew about. Wade had just announced one morning a week ago that Stark was going to throw a party in his honour, and if there was anyone Peter wanted to invite.
Peter had kicked him out of the bed and ignored him for the rest of the day. It wasn’t like he could threaten Wade with no sex, either, because Wade had sat him down after their emotional reunion and made a list of rules.
The first and most important rule was that they had to talk. A lot. About important things, not just running their mouths. Peter had agreed to that only because he knew Wade would have as much trouble with that as he would. If they were angry about something, they had to talk before they had sex.
Which came to rule number two: No sex if they didn’t talk. About important things. And feelings. Wade had very clearly explained that he expected Peter to tell him things – it could just be how his day had been, or it could be something to do with his past. Peter agreed to that because Wade promised to return the favour.
Rule number three had something to do with killing innocent people, and rule number four was something about secrets and not keeping them. And rule number five was that they should go out on dates as often as possible.
Peter really didn’t mind the last rule.
{Seriously, can we please kill someone?}
“We can’t kill people at a party,” Peter replied, crushing another nut. “It’s poor taste.”
[We never made Osborn a cake.]
{We can kill him!}
Peter hummed. “Working on it,” he said.
“Working on what?” a rough voice asked.
Peter jerked around, grinning widely. “Logan! Fancy seeing your short, hairy ass here!”
{Wolvie!}
[And of course he has a beer.]
“Spider,” Logan greeted him, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. He probably didn’t appreciate people making fun of his height, but Peter couldn’t really find it in himself to care. “Didn’t think Tony would have invited you.”
Peter fluttered his eyelashes. “Haven’t you heard, Logan? Wade and I are an item. I kill, he saves, we fuck, make a mess of Stark’s expensive sheets – I’m not kidding, we had sex in his bedroom once. Now that was what I call a rush. You should have seen his face when he came in! Stark’s, not Wade’s. Although Wade’s face was hilarious too!”
Logan grunted. “Somehow I’m not surprised.”
{Huh?}
[Say what?]
Peter gaped at him. “You’re not?” he asked, tilting his head questioningly to the side.
Logan took another long swallow from his beer before he answered. “He thinks all he deserves are the broken ones,” Logan rumbled, and Peter wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted or just sit and listen to the mutant. “The ones no one else wants. That’s probably what drew him to you in the first place.” Logan tipped his head back, swallowing down the fourth – or was it fifth? – beer.
Peter nodded, his eyes finding the red and black clad hero dancing energetically around the party-goers, much to their amusement. “We thought it was something like that,” Peter admitted. “He was willing to give us a chance we didn’t deserve.”
[No one dates us.]
{No one even likes us.}
“What about you?”
Peter tore his eyes away from Wade to raise an eyebrow. “What about me?”
Logan nodded at Wade, who’d somehow managed to rope a woman with brown and white hair into dancing the Macarena. “What drew you to him?”
[That’s like asking what the meaning of life is. No, fuck. I’m still mad.]
{Pancakes!}
“Shush,” Peter muttered. “I am trying to have a normal conversation. If you two don’t behave, I’m going to play with my chemistry set and find a way to shut you both up.”
[And if you kill yourself in the process?]
Peter snorted. “Hey, at least I’ll take you down with me. I gotta answer a question.”
{There was a question? Oh yeah, the meaning of life!}
“What? No, not the meaning of life!”
[Although I’m pretty sure the answer works just as well.]
Peter tilted his head, considering. “Pancakes,” he said. “Ever had a Wade Wilson pancake? They’re to kill for. I mean, they aren’t perfect, but I would kill for some. And his tacos.”
[You’d kill for money too.]
{Not too picky, are you?}
“Of course, I do like killing, so maybe that’s a moot point.” Peter pursed his lips. “I could not kill for them? Maybe?”
“So you’re fucking him because of his pancakes and his tacos?” Logan asked, grinning.
“He’s fucking me,” Peter shot back. “And no, of course that’s not the only reason! Sheesh, what am I, Barbie?”
Logan snorted. “You haven’t got the chest, bub.”
[Or the sparkling personality.]
{Come on Barbie let’s go party!}
“Ah-ah-ah-yeah.”
{I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world.}
[Life in plastic, it’s fantastic.]
“You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere!”
{We should sing this to Wade!}
Peter nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
“What’s a good idea?” Logan asked.
“Oh right. You were here. We were having a conversation. Boxes distracted me!” Peter gave Logan a bright, innocent smile. “What were we talking about?”
Logan rolled his eyes and muttered something into his beer that Peter didn’t catch. “We were talking about Wade.”
It was all coming back to him. “Right. Pancakes. Tacos. Barbie. No chest. See? I’m all over this.”
“Glad to hear it, bub.”
[That’s starting to annoy me.]
{Seconded! I forgot he does that!}
“Pancakes. He’s fit too. You know, Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. Survival of the fittest.” Peter waved a hand at Wade. “He’s fit. Good at sex. Sense of humour. He fights with fucking katanas, man. Have you seen him move? It’s beautiful. The guns are a bit iffy, but the swords. Swords are just big knives, am I right? And I like knives.”
“Heard you like poison more,” Logan replied.
Peter nodded vigorously. “Poisons are fun to make, but knives are intimate, you know? Kind of hard to miss out on the fun bits. You’d know.” Peter stretched out a finger to tap the back of Logan’s hand.
The other man growled. “Careful there, bub.”
Peter hummed thoughtfully. “I keep meaning to take care of the remainders,” he muttered to himself.
“The remainders of what?”
“The people who did this to you. And Wade.” He watched the stiffness creeping into Logan’s limbs. “They’re still going at it. Beating corpses, if you ask me. They’re too focused on the wrong aspects.”
[Idiots.]
{Morons.}
“But whatevs.” Peter waved a dismissive hand. “I just need to write myself a note. I’ll take care of it before the nine headed problem, I think,” he added musingly.
“Why do you care, bub? This doesn’t concern you.” Logan’s voice, Peter noticed, had gotten even rougher, and the tips of his claws were poking through the skin on the back of his hands.
“Of course it does,” Peter replied, offended. “They hurt Wade!”
{We have to let them know that’s a bad idea.}
[Plus, they’re still after him. Jesus, I don’t fucking care!]
Peter nodded. “I know what they did to him. I know what they did to you. They deserve whatever comes to them.”
[We’re coming at them.]
{And boy, are they unprepared!}
Logan stared at him. “How do you know they’re still alive?”
“Well, organisations like that have a horrible habit of sticking around,” Peter said. “Like Hydra. Plus, I’m pretty sure they’ve contacted me a few times. Not worth the effort, given what they were paying.”
“And you’re just happy to fuck them up? Just like that?”
Peter hummed. “Well, money would be nice, of course. But you know,” he continued, staring at Wade, “sometimes he still wakes up in the middle of the night. Nightmares. Night terrors. Memories. Maybe it’s too hopeful, but I like to think that once I kill them all, he’ll sleep better at night.”
[Wishful thinking.]
{Memories don’t just go away.}
[Would be nice.]
{If all the shit in our head just vanished, that’d be great.}
“So you’re planning to find them and kill them,” Logan surmised, starting another beer.
Peter hummed. “I’ve narrowed it down already. Gotta work a bit faster, though… The fingers are starting to itch…”
Logan was silent for a moment. “Will you need help?” he asked abruptly.
[Oh, yes please!]
“You want to help?” Peter asked, tilting his head. “It’ll involve killing, you know. I thought you were reformed. Or some shit.”
Logan snorted. “Those fuckers deserve to die,” he rumbled. “I’m not averse to helping you out. Get a little bit of payback.” He paused. “I think Wilson would help too, if you asked him.”
[No.]
{Not gonna happen.}
Peter shook his head. “No. I’m not telling him they’re still kicking. Fuck that. And if you tell him, I’ll kill you.”
“Can’t kill me, bub.”
“How much do you want to bet?” Peter snarled. “I have a brain that works at least 20% faster than those shmucks who made Wade. I have spent the majority of the last three years getting paid to kill people in vague and unsettling ways. I am not an idiot, nor am I a very good person. Swirl aside, I’m the worst kind of person you’ll ever meet.”
“You have a point, bub?”
“Of course I do, I’m just taking the scenic route. The point is that I have already hypothesised several treatments that will actually kill my boyfriend. And if they work on him – we haven’t tested it, because we quite like him alive – they’ll definitely work on you. Pointy enough for you?”
[We have arrived at our destination.]
{Thank you for choosing the Spider train!}
“He deserves to know,” Logan rumbled.
“He’ll know when I’ve finished hunting down every last one of those rats,” Peter replied, voice hard. “Not before.”
“Fine. You’ve made your point. I’ll help you out, and I won’t say anything to Wade. But I still think he deserves to know.”
“He deserves better than me,” Peter murmured. The dancefloor was full, and now Wade was dancing the Nutbush, grinning when more and more people joined in. Peter was sure he saw Stark’s stupid head in the middle of the dancing idiots.
Logan snorted, seemingly unbothered by the subject change. “I think he’s capable of making decisions for himself, bub.” Peter bristled – what was it with people and pet names? “What do you deserve?”
Peter titled his head, anger forgotten. “You know, I wouldn’t have picked you as the inquisitive type,” Peter noted. “I’d have figured you’d be sullen and silent, brooding over your beers.”
[How many has he had?]
“Don’t know, don’t care. As long as he doesn’t puke on me.” Peter narrowed his eyes at Logan. “You’re not going to puke on me, right?”
“I won’t puke on you, bub.”
[Are we going to answer his question?]
“Question?”
{What we deserve!}
“Oh. Right. You mean in general?” Peter asked Logan.
Logan opened another beer. “If that’s easier,” he replied.
Peter grinned brightly. “That’s real easy. I deserve to be tortured to within an inch of my life, over and over again. And have things done to me.”
[Like cutting.]
{Bleeding.}
“Getting beaten up,” Peter added in a sing song voice.
[Raped.]
{Electrocution!}
“Having my nails pulled out.”
[Broken bones.]
{Glass.}
“Oh, acid.”
[Fire.]
{Drowning.}
“Poisoned.”
[Experimented on.]
{Locked up.}
“In a cage.”
The sound of breaking glass shattered Peter’s concentration. He blinked, staring at Logan, who was hunched over the bar, shoulders trembling while his fists closed around the remains of the bottle of beer. The amber liquid was spilled across the bench, dripping into Logan’s lap.
[Did we trigger him?]
“Bugger,” Peter muttered. He gave Logan’s shoulder a tentative pat. “Hey man, sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have. It’s totally unintentional, I swear. I mean, you’ve heard of me, yeah? Insane mercenary? I talk all the time, have conversations with the boxes that I’m told are completely inappropriate, and manners?” Peter snorted. “Between you and me, I can’t even remember the face of the person who taught me manners – [{Liar!}] – so don’t even get me started on that.”
[Oh man he’s not responding!]
{What do we do?}
“I don’t know,” Peter hissed frantically. “I’m better at making situations worse!”
[You’re doing a fantastic job of that.]
“Oh, stick a chainsaw up your ass, White.” Peter turned caught sight of Wade, and tried to wave him over. But either Wade was having too much fun, or he couldn’t see Logan slumped over the bar, because he just grinned at Peter – so wide and bright that something in Peter’s chest started to ache – and waved back at him.
Peter rolled up his sleeves. “When you want something done,” he muttered, lining up, “do it yourself.” He flexed his wrist, and his web caught Wade’s back. Peter pulled, Wade stumbled, and they kept that up until Peter was satisfied he had Wade’s complete attention.
He spat some venom on his webs – the only way to cut it without his knives which he hadn’t, for some reason, been allowed to bring – and waited impatiently for Wade to make his way over.
“What happened?” Wade asked upon perceiving Logan.
Peter shrugged helplessly. “I might have fucked up?” he offered.
Logan sat up, catching Wade’s suit and pulling him close. “I have to talk to you,” he snarled.
Peter tensed, but Wade just nodded. “Wait here,” he told Peter, before pulling Logan away from the bar.
“Why do people think I’ll do what they tell me to?” Peter demanded after a moment. “I mean, seriously, ‘wait here’?”
[How about no.]
Peter nodded. “Spot on, White.” Flicking a web at the ceiling, Peter pulled himself up and followed the pair.
“You keep that kid close, you understand me?” Logan growled, poking a finger at Wade’s chest. “You don’t let him out of your sight.”
“Wow, Wolvie, what happened?” Wade asked, holding up his hands. Peter couldn’t see his expression from where he was perched on the ceiling.
Logan huffed out a breath. “I don’t care how unhinged he is, no one deserves that,” he muttered to himself.
Wade, predictably, froze. “Logan.” There was a hard, dangerous note in Wade’s voice Peter hadn’t heard for a while. “What did he say?”
“I asked him what he deserved,” Logan replied. “I don’t think you want to know what he said.”
Wade made a frustrated noise. “I think that if I didn’t already have an idea I wouldn’t have asked.”
Logan nodded once. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, bub.”
[Hey, maybe he just calls everyone bub.]
{Stiiiiill…}
I don’t like it.
{That pretty much sums up my feelings too!}
[I think that sums up all of our feelings.]
Honestly, bub?
{Next thing, it’ll be bae.}
[Oh god. No.]
Bacon and eggs?
{Yum!}
[Pancakes are better.]
{But of course.}
That doesn’t mean bacon and eggs aren’t nice, Peter pointed out. He shifted his grip on the wall, pressing his back against the ceiling. You can have maple syrup and bacon.
Yellow hummed in delight. {I want that for breakfast tomorrow!}
[I can’t remember if we’ve ever had bacon and maple syrup.]
I think we have, I can’t remember exactly when –
Peter cut himself off, his spider sense tingling in warning. His eyes landed on a very annoyed looking Wade, mask held in his hand. Logan was nowhere to be seen.
{He’s mad again!}
[We really have to stop making him mad.]
{But angry sex is the best.}
“You been up there long, Peter?” Wade asked. “Hear everything?”
{Nah, we zoned out for a bit there.}
“Up until the part where Logan started repeating what I said,” Peter replied. “That was boring.”
[Oh boy, look at that frown.]
“Boring,” Wade repeated.
Peter nodded. “It’s like when you say the same thing over and over again until it doesn’t mean anything anymore.”
{Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter…}
“Shut up, Yellow,” Peter snapped.
Yellow giggled. {Just testing!}
“Test on White, you ungrateful little shit!”
[Hey, I’m sitting here minding my own business.]
“For once.”
[I resent the implication that I’m annoying.]
{I’m more annoying. I have a trophy.}
“And that is nothing to be proud of.”
“Baby boy, why did you say that?” Peter glanced down at Wade, trying to give him his whole attention, but it was hard with the boxes still yammering in his head. “To Logan,” Wade clarified.
“I said I was sorry if I triggered him,” Peter said. “I honestly didn’t mean to do it.”
Wade sighed. “You didn’t trigger him. Logan’s tough. I’m asking why you said what you did.”
[I don’t get it.]
{Seconded!}
“Thirded! I obviously said it because I meant it? I mean, I joke around a lot, but shit like that isn’t really a joking matter. Not to mention, I’ve done plenty of those things to other people. Why shouldn’t I get what’s coming to me?” Peter settled himself more firmly onto the wall before ticking off on his fingers. “I’ve killed people, tortured them, healed them back up and then tortured them again and again until they couldn’t even remember their own name.”
[But we’ve never raped anyone.]
“No, because that is Very Bad Thing,” Peter agreed. “Hits a little too close to home, yeah?”
{As opposed to murder?}
Peter stuck his tongue out. “Don’t lie, you enjoy it as much as I do.”
[The whole morality thing aside, we prefer to get fucked now anyway.]
“There is that.”
{And we have someone willing to fuck us. Why do we need to force anyone?}
“Exactly!”
“Baby boy,” Wade sighed. “Come down.”
Peter obediently dropped to the ground. “The point is, I said it because that’s what I deserve,” Peter said. “Sure, I can redeem myself a little in doing business with you guys and Fury. If you believe that sort of sales pitch, which I find ridiculous. So I’m officially screwed whatever I do, right?”
Wade’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he growled.
[Funny, because I distinctly recall you being the one who hurt us so bad we ran to die.]
“Shut up, White,” Peter snapped tersely.
“He’s still mad at me?” Wade asked, shoulders drooping.
{Now look what you’ve done!}
“Yes, he is.” Peter didn’t see any point in lying – White was being a dick and Peter was the one who had to deal with it, not Wade. But they were together now, and wasn’t that what people did? Shared things with each other?
White snorted on a laugh. [Look at you, trying to be in a relationship when you have no idea what a normal one actually looks like.]
“At least I’m not moping,” Peter replied.
{Neither of us are normal,} Yellow added.
“Exactly!”
[You’re both idiots,] White snapped. [This won’t end well.]
{If we have our way,} Yellow said, {this won’t end.}
Peter nodded in agreement. “So suck on a lollipop, White. We’re staying. Second chances, yada yada. We lo –” Peter cut himself off, nose wrinkled. “We like each other,” he finished after a short pause. “A lot.”
“Everything alright, you two?” someone asked, and Peter whirled around to see Banner standing awkwardly by the door, an untouched glass of wine in his hand. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he added hastily, “it’s just Tony was looking for Wade, seeing as this is his party…” Banner trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
“We can talk later,” Peter said, jumping in before Wade could say a word. “After the party. There are… People out there. For you. I may not have been to many parties – at least, not one’s that I’ve been invited to – but I know the life of the party isn’t supposed to be… Not at the party?”
[Smooth.]
{Well he’s not wrong. Wade should be dancing! He looks real nice when he dances.}
Peter hummed. “Go dance,” he said to Wade, waving a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. His lips quirked up in a sly grin. “I like watching you dance,” he admitted, and he wondered if this counted towards rule numbed two.
{Yes!}
[No?]
Wade’s responding smile was bright, and he slipped on his mask and bounded back into the dancing mess of people. Peter flicked his eyes at Banner, who was still standing awkwardly, looking at him with a furrowed brow.
“Can we help you?” Peter asked.
[Don’t stare, it totally makes us antsy.]
{We should one on one the Hulk!}
“That would be interesting,” Peter agreed. “It would liven up the party so much!”
[I don’t know, it’s lively already.]
“That’s because the life of the party returned.”
Banner cleared his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but who are you talking to?”
[Is he the first one to ask that?]
{Nah, I think Wade did in like… Chapter one of the first story.}
“Oh Banner, life is so much easier when you just let things slide,” Peter whined, bouncing on his toes when Wade vanished from his line of sight. “Let it go, let it go,” he muttered to himself.
[Yes, because we are definitely temperamental ice queens,] White said dryly.
{Can’t hold it back anymore!} Yellow giggled. {I’m going to be singing that just before we shoot a load now.}
White made a disgusted noise. [You sick fuck. That’s a song from a child’s show!]
Peter laughed. “That’s perfect. But there is a line that describes us perfectly. Even White can’t argue.”
[Challenge accepted!]
“No right, no wrong, no rules for me! I’m free!” Peter twirled, snickering to himself.
{LET IT GO!}
[Ha, we have rules now, remember?]
Peter stopped twirling and glared. “What? No! I didn’t sign any stupid SHIELD papers, damnit!”
[Wade’s rules.]
“Oh.” Peter’s tense posture relaxed. “They don’t really count?”
[Why not?]
{Because Wade!}
“Spider… Peter…” Banner stopped. “What would you prefer I call you?” he asked.
{Peter is for Wade!}
“I thought baby boy was for Wade?”
[You two need to focus.]
{Everything is for Wade.}
[Not me, thank you very much.]
“Why aren’t you partying?” Peter asked abruptly, blinking at Banner. “You have a drink, this is more your crowd than mine, and Widow is totally keeping an eye on you. You noticed that, right? Because boy, I think she has the hots for you big time, and it’s not even the big guy she likes, it’s you! Little nerdy Banner, with his little nerdy glasses and his nerdy speaking. That must feel good, right?”
{He looks so uncomfortable.}
[This is exactly why we’re never invited to parties.]
“… I don’t actually wear glasses,” Banner replied after a lengthy pause.
[{What?!}]
Peter gaped. “No, I’m really sure you do. I mean, you always have glasses in your movies… I think… Now I’m not so sure.”
[Even if he doesn’t, he should!]
{Yeah, he’s a nerd! Nerds wear glasses!}
“Even I wore glasses at one point!” Peter exclaimed. “It’s like obligatory nerd-wear! Banner, you’re letting nerds down everywhere!”
Banner looked lost. “I thought that was dorks?”
“No way, calling someone a dork is rude,” Peter said, wagging a finger at the other man. “But nerds, nerds are cool! Just like bowties and fezzes! And other timey-wimey things!”
Banner gave him a surprised smile. “So you like Doctor Who?”
{Wasn’t he in the conference call shit with Mal?} Yellow asked.
Peter’s brow furrowed. “You weren’t in the conference call with Fury?” he asked. When Banner looked at him a little blankly, Peter cocked his head.
[Did we count wrong?]
“Nah, no way! I heard lots of people breathing!”
{We don’t count wrong with that type of thing.}
Peter nodded sagely. “Need to be accurate so I know how many people are standing behind that wall, how many times I have to swing my knives, relative positions of my canvases…” Peter was distracted when he caught sight of Wade doing a ridiculous jig that ended in an equally ridiculous pose and the amusement of all watching.
Wade caught him watching and winked, exaggerating the movements so that there was no way Peter could miss it. The song changed, and Wade dropped the pose to bounce up and down on the spot, excitedly saying something to the white-haired woman from the bar.
“I actually came over to congratulate you,” Banner said. Peter glanced at him, eyebrow raised. “On joining the Avengers.”
[“Congrats on becoming less of a bad guy”?]
{No way! “Congrats on banging the hottest hunk of meat on this team and getting into the good guy club even though you’re not technically a good guy”.}
[That was way too long.]
{Well yours was just wrong!}
[Okay, fine. “Congrats on being stupid enough to think you have a chance at this hero bullshit”.]
Yellow gasped. {That’s just mean!}
“White, if you weren’t in my head I’d smack you with a crowbar,” Peter said. “You’re being way too sullen and it’s getting on every one of my nerves. Have a teaspoon a cement and harden the fuck up, you little shit.”
{Don’t be a baby!} Yellow agreed.
It took him a moment to realize Banner was still there. “Oh right. Thanks, Banner! Geeze, this team up is going to be fun! Imagine all the good stuff you’ll do, and all the sort-of-decent-if-you-squint stuff I’ll do! Everyone seems to think I can’t throw my knives to just hurt people, but jokes on them because they’re all just missing!”
Banner’s smile was a little forced. “Well, it’s been nice talking with you,” he said, and Peter was surprised he’d bothered with the pleasantries, “but I should go…” Banner waved an awkward hand in the direction of the party and walked away.
{He’s nice,} Yellow said.
[Not bad, although he did ask us to save Stark.]
Peter wrinkled his nose. “Yeah. That was a red mark, huh?”
[Just a bit.]
{It’s nothing like Widow’s red mark.}
[Or Stark’s.]
{Or Fury’s. I totally want to snap his dick.}
[Or Wade’s.]
“Wade’s was removed,” Peter said quietly. “A second chance.”
[You know I don’t agree with that.]
{Hard not to – you keep complaining about it!}
“But it’s two against one, so keep your nasty comments reserved until we’re alone, yeah? We’ve already hurt him, he’s hurt us… No point playing the blame game here.”
White muttered something that might have been an agreement, and Peter decided he wanted an aerial view of the party. The rest of the night saw him perched on the ceiling, watching the party-goers and humming along to the music.