A/N: Hello all! This was an idea I had late one night, and I would like to continue it, but only if I get enough feedback. I will most definitely publish a second chapter, but it depends on what people think if I continue with this story. It's rated M for future smut (If I continue this!), so I hope you enjoy it and leave a review if you'd like to read more.

Wade had cracked. And he finally realized he had cracked, which made him seek professional help. He didn't know which was crazier, the fact that he was depressed or that he had actually mustered up the courage to finally talk to someone about it.

He felt pathetic as he approached the psychologist's office, and he felt like turning around and going back to his apartment to wallow in self-pity. He decided to stay since he was the only one in the waiting room. This shouldn't take too long, he thought. Just go in there, talk about your stupid feelings, get it all off your chest, then go home.

A young, blonde woman opened the door of the office. "Mr. Wilson, if you would please follow me." Wade complied, following the women through the door and down the hallway, the women stopping at the last door and then opening it, gesturing for Wade to go inside. "Please, take a seat and make yourself comfortable. Mr. Parker will be right with you."

Wade nodded a thank you and sat down on a plush couch against the wall. It was only moments later that the door opened again and in walked in a tall, brunette man. He was dressed simply, wearing glasses, his hair slicked to the side. He walked over to Wade and offered his hand in a handshake. "Hello, Mr. Wilson, my name is Peter Parker, but you may call me whatever you'd prefer for the remainder of our time together."

Wade simply blinked in awe as he offered the other man his hand, momentarily mesmerized by the handsomeness in front of him that just said he could call him whatever he'd like, but then slightly giddy by realizing this is who he'd be seeing for the next few weeks. Wade grinned, "Whoa, slow down Petey, I just met you." Peter looked at him blankly for a moment, to which Wade quickly cleared his throat and said, "Erm, nice to meet you, Peter." He was even more thankful for the fact that he wore a mask to hide the embarrassment that he was sure was quite evident on his face.

Peter motioned for Wade to take a seat as he sat down in the chair across from him. Wade sat down and his eyes wandered to the window, still inwardly chastising himself for earlier. Get a grip, Wade, you're going to have to get used to being around this guy for the next few weeks. Peter began, "So, Mr. Wilson, what brings you here today?"

"Oh, you know, just the usual case of suicidal, depressed thoughts, nothing too out of the ordinary," Wade instantly regretted saying that after he noticed the awkward look Peter gave him after he said that. "No, but really, I don't know. I've just wanted to talk to someone, I've been feeling really down lately and I don't really have anyone to tell it to, maybe I could get some drugs to help with this."

"Mr. Wilson, do you mind if I call you Wade?"

Wade smiled slyly, "You can call me whatever you'd like, Peter."

Peter shifted in his seat a bit uncomfortably, but gave him a reassuring smile. "Okay, Wade, I'm going to encourage you to just talk freely and tell me whatever is on your mind. Your feelings, your reasons for feeling down, what you had for breakfast this morning, anything at all. I'm here to listen to you and provide feedback whenever you'd like any. If, eventually, I do see the need for you to be prescribed to any medicine, I will gladly write that up for you, but that would be my last resort. For now, I'd just like you to relax and talk to me about anything; tell me about yourself, how your day has been, how you're feeling, anything at all. I'm here to listen."

And so, Wade did just that. He began with his childhood, which was very troubled, or so Wade made it seem, and then on to his adolescence and early adult life, though to Peter it seemed very farfetched, but he listened anyway. Then Wade moved on to talk about the occurrences of his day, what he had done before going to the office, but then when he started talking about how one old woman had reacted to him helping her pick up her fallen shopping bags, which then sent him on a tangent about how he feels like no one appreciates him. "I just feel like, just because I wear this mask, people are afraid of me no matter what. And, even if I were to take off the mask, people would still be afraid of me, probably even more, and I feel like a horrible, disgusting person. I have no close friends, besides Al and Weasel and Bob, if you could even consider them friends at all. I treat them like shit sometimes, I don't know why, and it just makes me feel like a shit person." Wade leaned his head forward to rest on his hands and groaned.

Peter stood attentive to every word Wade said, but this was different. It was part of his job description for him to pay attention to each and every person who comes in to see him, but Wade was different. He could actually relate to what he was saying. Peter was very well familiar with loss of a loved one at a young age, as well as the struggle of hiding behind his Spider-Man mask and dealing with rejection and prejudice as a result of it. When Peter saw that Wade had stopped talking, he decided to ask, "Why do you think people would treat you worse if you didn't wear your mask?"

Wade sighed, "I have a skin condition that looks like I went through a meat grinder a few dozen times." Peter cocked his eyebrow, looking slightly confused. "Just trust me, it's not pretty."

"I'll take your word for it, but keep in mind everyone has something about themselves they are not content with. It's natural to have insecurities."

Wade nearly burst out laughing. "Yeah, except not when someone looks like you! You're practically the spitting image of Adonis, I'm sure your looks don't give you any problems when it comes to finding friends, lovers; hell, just for someone to at least look at you without writhing away in disgust!"

He was slightly angry, and Peter could tell. "Listen, Wade, I know it might be hard for you to believe, but I can relate to you in more ways than you know, trust me. If you were to take off your mask right now it would make no difference to me, and I'm sure it also wouldn't make a difference to others."

"Sorry, baby boy, the mask stays on. Always. Besides, I don't want to scare you away just yet." While he was still guarded, Wade had lightened up a bit. He was surprised that Peter was actually curious about what was under his mask, even after his warning. Usually most people don't care to question him more after that.

Wade continued to talk a bit more after that, until he realized he had gone over his two hours after a quick glance at the clock on the wall. "Wow, sorry I went a little over, time flies when you're having fun talking to your shrink, I guess. That's how the saying goes, right?"

Peter gave a crooked smile, "It's no problem at all. I'm glad you were comfortable talking to me. You can talk to the woman at the front desk if you'd like to schedule another session for next week, same day and time, or whatever best suites you."

"Sure thing, see ya next week, Peter." They shook hands and Wade walked out, feeling lighter and actually…better. Wow, didn't think this 'seeing a shrink' thing would actually work. Wade had only planned on doing two or three sessions if he found that it did help with his depression at all, but seeing as he was fortunate enough to get a psychologist who's easy on the eyes, he decided to stick it out for a few more weeks.

This week better go by fast.