'Jarvis!' he shouts, or more like a croaky, sawing motion at his throat. 'Where is everyone?'

'Currently out fighting the Doombots, sir. Would you like me to do anything for you, sir?' Something juts through his brain; when Darken sprayed him with some type of knock-out stuff, he was trying to fight the Doombots.

Crime was at an all time low, now that both he and the Avengers were on the scene, except for Victor Von Doom. Technically, he was Uncle Reed and Aunt Sue's primary villain, but he seemed to like dipping out of their pond for a while. So, here he was, surrounded by at least fifty Dooms, with not the real one in sight (after the last time, he'd gotten Bot 3.0 to construct him a small x-ray for his suit). And then, just as he was in mid swing, a stinging sensation hit him, and he was falling, falling, down...

Peter jolts back out of his memories to discover he's put on the suit. And somehow gotten out of bed. And Jarvis hasn't stopped him. Strange.

'Jarvis, have I said afro circus?'

'Yes, sir,' replies the AI, and Peter laughs. He loves his password. So cool. Lit up Tumblr overnight. Anyway,he shrugs the mask down, adjusts himself into a more comfortable position, and attempts to web. Unfortunately, there's something stopping him; something within the room itself.

'Jarvis?'

'Yes, sir?' if the AI could sigh, he would do it now. The other side of the computer terminal lets out a small huff of air. He can sigh. That's a development.

'Why can't I web?'

'Mr Stark installed a program that restrained your webbing capabilities, sir. You happened to be doing it during your coma.' Ah. Well. He'll just have to go for it, then. Anyway, the suit has a just-in-case gliding system.

'Afro circus,' he shouts, as he opens the door. The cool night air bristles against his skin. 'Poor Jarvis. Dad's gonna kill him' he smiles to himself as he jumps out the window.

This is hard. Like, really hard. How the fuck does Pete manage this on a daily basis? Wade slices through another bot, watching as the mask pings off and shatters on the ground. The other Avengenerds are doing their shit too, and he wonders how Pete's doing. In all the time he's been a mercenary, he has learnt only a couple of things; a) don't trust anyone and b) especially don't trust computers (which is a bit rich, he thinks, as he's being written by someone typing). So why Stark left Pete in the care of one of those things is beyond him. He drives another sword into another bot, and admits to himself the one fucking thing that's been keeping him awake at night. He misses Pete. Well, that's over with. He misses the way he'd roll his eyes at a terrible joke, the way he liked Wade's skin, the way he only liked Cartoons on Saturdays and only horror on Mondays. And he misses the way the devil incarnate would spring into action without a thought for his own safety .

Which is what he's doing now. Oh, fuck.

'Er, Ironing Board, Bald Eagle?' Almost simultaneous sighs and 'Yes, Deadpool?'

'You might want to look up.

They do.

Tony Stark, billionaire playboy philanthropist, looks into the sky almost in the same instance as Steve, and he's pretty sure both their faces have the same image of shock. Because up there, way too high for it to be safe, is Peter. In the costume. Out of bed.

He is so, so grounded. Steve gives him a look; the look which means get him or you are on the couch for a month and pretty much dead. So he does it. He powers up, and finds Pete mid-swing.

'Get your ass down, Peter Parker,' He can see Pete roll his eyes,and then readjust himself into a slightly more comfortable position. He's still aching. Tony just wants to hug his son. Desperatley, because he has just woken up from a large portion of torture and a coma.

'No,' he says, and if he wasn't mid swing, Tony's sure the kid would be crossing his arms and pouting, 'Only if once I'm down there, I help,'

'No.'

'I'm not a kid anymore, Dad! I have responsibilities; and unfinished buisness with Doom, actually. Or by a bunch of Asgardians, I'll go down myself and fight alongside you,whatever you say,' he pauses a second, and breaks off the web line. Tony has this god awful feeling that Peter is going to drop and die, before the kid shoots out another web. He's become a pro at this, hasn't he? His voice drops, as if he's saying it to himself 'You weren't like this when I was Spiderman and not Peter, were you?'

'Fine. Suit yourself. But put yourself in danger once, and you are never going out as Spiderman again until you are trained and have a less lycra-y suit, you got me?' Pete nods, and drops. Tony plummets next to him, only to see him land surprisingly steadily. Huh. Strange. Out of everyone, Peter was always the clumsiest (then again, along with all the other shit Peter seems to have developed, this isn't really that surprising.) His webbing instantly hits a bot, and another, until he is shooting madly everywhere, yet hitting and disabling everyone. Christ, Tony thinks, the kid has style.

To be honest, Wade actually isn't that surprised to see Pete drop beside him. They've gotten used to working together naturally, after the three months Wade's been plaging him.

'Hey, Peter,' he says, and the kid gives him a thumbs up before firing at another web at the robot nearby, 'How are you?'

'Horrible. I'll survive, though,' he says, and Wade slices through another robot with ease, then shoves the swords back into their holders when he hears a panicked and gruff cry of pain from next to him. Pete's cowering, crouched in pain, a large piece of rubble pinning his arm to the ground.

'Wade,' he chokes out, 'If you're done surveying, would you mind getting me out of this?' Wade moves to do it, before he hears the crackle of an intercom.

'Done and dusted, Deadpool. I heard Peter came over to you. Is he ok?' Wade hesitates for a second.

'Yeah. He's... fine,' He lifts the rubble off of his arm, and gets the kid rested on his shoulder.

'Are you gonna be ok?'

'Yeah,' he re-adjusts again, before he tugs his mask off and looks Wade in the eye.

'What did my parents say about this, exactly?' Wade grins, a proper, happy grin.

'That you're grounded. For life,'

Peter laughs, and for now, at least, there's a way beyond this.