Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Killing himself was nice, sometimes.

It felt cathartic, some days. But mostly, it was just a way for him to shut his stupid fucking brain off.

White and Yellow just would not shut the fuck up, especially if given self-hatred fuel. For voices living inside his head, they sure hated everything about it! One would think they’d get used to it. So, he had to do it.

He’d just pull the trigger and boom, blissful silence at last. Of course, it never lasted too long, and waking up from death was always a bit of a bitch, some aches and pains, but at least it was a reset. Like when you just wake up and details are still a little murky.

Sometimes, he tidied up his whole house and warned Spidey of his impending absence before doing it. Almost like he was teasing himself with the sweet, sweet relief.

Sometimes, he did it again and again for days.

That’s because you’re a little bitch, no one even cares enough about you for you to be doing all this.

No one likes me, no one. No one gives a fuck. Why would they? I don’t want them to, anyways.

So yeah, they were no help.

He wanted to scream, loud and painful, so the whole of New York could hear and know that he was in pain. But that was a bit silly and dramatic and self-absorbed, and it’s not like New York would take it very seriously, anyway, so…

Self-murder it is!

That way, he didn’t have to think…to move…to deal with consequences…nobody wants any of that! Silence, mmm, that’s what’s up. A smooth brain. A holey brain…yes.

But since when it rains, it pours, Wade looked down to see his phone buzzing: Spidey was calling him. He sighed deeply, gently putting the gun down. It could be important, and he’d never let his special boy down!

“Y’ello, sweetums.”

Get a grip, dipshit.

I’m so annoying…

“Hi, DP. Wanna come on patrol today? I could use your company.”

And well…

You don’t even deserve to be in his presence.

How could he say no to that?

Chapter Text

Spidey was…weird. Something didn’t feel right, and it was seriously setting Deadpool off. He couldn’t tell if he was just having yet another bad brain day and thus being paranoid, or if Spidey actually hated him.

How about both?

But…he called us?

True. Not that that matters to him. Spidey could beg him on his knees to spend time with him and Wade would still think it was out of pity, or some misguided sense of honor, or…something.

Definitely not genuine. Not that he didn’t think Spidey was genuine! Baby boy was the realest out there. Obviously. But maybe he didn’t realize he didn’t actually want Wade close by. He was too good.

Maybe he needs a favor…

Or maybe you need to throw yourself off the roof! That’d probably be a relief for him, methinks.

Not. Helpful.

Wade wouldn’t know what to do if he believed in people’s love for him anyway. Yuck. Too much!

We should paint our nails tonight…as a treat.

You’re gonna wanna do red and blue again. Sigh.

We could add black in there somewhere…

“Wade? You’re spacing out, man. Everything okay?”

“Peachy keen, baby boy! Don’t worry your pretty little head about it!”

Spider-Man cocked his head, “Is it the voices?”

A pause.

“You know about those?”

“Well, I just…figured. You talk to yourself sometimes.”

“Oh. Yeah! We were just discussing which Twilight movie was the best, and it got a little heated.”

Spidey hesitated, and then “It’s obviously the first, how is this even a discussion?”

Deadpool gasped, scandalized, “Baby boy! It’s definitely New Moon!”

They argued about this for way too long until, eventually, even the voices got tired of it, and they moved on to discuss Jurassic Park. Once that died down as well, there was a comfortable silence between them.

Wade didn’t do silence usually. Not his scene. Too comfy. Yuck. So, he had to go and ruin it somehow, obviously.

“Sooooo, Spidey! What’s up with you today? You were weird at the beginning of patrol, and you still haven’t pushed me off the roof or something, so I’m starting to think it’s not me!”

Spider-Man offered a pitiful little chuckle, “Definitely not you, DP. I literally called you here to keep me company, remember? I’ve just been…a little anxious, honestly. It’s been a lot lately. ‘M tired.”

His Spidey did take on too much responsibility… And here Wade was, thinking only about himself, as per usual. What a dick!

You always think it’s about you, except for when it actually is, asshole. I’m rolling my eyes, bee-tee-dubs.

“Aw, Spidey, if there’s any way I can help…”

Spider-Man only smiled through the mask, “You already are.”

Chapter Text

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

His heart was beating so fast. He just- He needed to do something normal. Brush his teeth, maybe? Fuck. He didn’t think that’d stop his brain, unfortunately.

I can’t fucking breathe.

I wanna claw off my fucking skin!

Okay. Okay. Breathe in. Get the toothpaste. Shit. Stop that. Breathe normally. Okay. Toothpaste. Toothbrush. Water. Boom.

“I’m being so lame right now…” Wade whispered to himself.

No shit.

Toothbrush in mouth. And…brush. Easy peasy! Now, just don’t think! Not as easy. Fuck, he should’ve picked something harder. He didn’t think he had the wherewithal for anything like that at the moment, though.

Up. Sides. Front. Down. Sides. Front. All around.

Repeat.

Two minutes, like a good samaritan.

Don’t think.

We- Muh- Maybe we’ll make our bed next, yeah?

You’re not breathing, shithead.

Clean toothbrush. Cup. Rinse. Towel. Breathe. Done.

Now what?

Sheets!

Right, that could be good. That could work. Wade could be good.

Except halfway through, he started hyperventilating. This wasn’t supposed to happen! He was doing his best with not thinking! Mundane tasks are supposed to help distract you!

You’re a fucking headcase!

Wade let go of the sheets and sat on the floor. Breathing exercises it is! This shouldn’t escalate. His life was okay! Everything was fine, there was no reason why he should be anxious.

In. Out. In. Out.

Fuck.

What if… What if we call Spidey? He’s good, he wouldn’t mind, right?

That’s the problem, he’s too good. Of course, he’d fucking mind, this guy’s insane! You two shouldn’t bother him, then we- you’ll only feel guilty after. I know how you are!

Y- You know you’re here with us too, don’t you? You’re part of it.

Shut up! I’m not like you. You’re pathetic.

Shut up, shut up, shut up. Why don’t they ever shut up?!

For once, couldn’t they be nice?

Was he really that bad? Would Spidey really mind?

He couldn’t breathe. Fuck. He couldn’t fucking breathe.

Just get the fucking gun, Wade.

I- I mean… It might be easier, no?

Wade got the fucking gun.

Silence.

Chapter Text

Selfish, selfish, selfish. He just…couldn’t help it. He’d try not to show it, of course, but he was jealous, and obsessive, an obsessive little freak, and everyone could tell. Everything always had to be about him.

How can you hate yourself so much while also being this self-centered?

Why would Spidey think about us, anyway?

Is that what this is about? Again? Jesus.

Isn’t it always?

Well. A bit humiliating.

“He’s just been really quiet…”

Probably doesn’t wanna talk to you, freak.

Well…yeah.

The problem was: he was just so bored. He didn’t want to watch any show, read any books or comics, listen to any music, play anything… He’d cleaned and tidied all that he possibly could, and things still just weren’t looking up. His brain felt foggy.

Wade lit a candle and stared at it.

Maybe we could do our nails again? He- He seemed to like the red and blue…

He sighed. God, this was unhealthy. Therapy might be a fun idea at this point. This wasn’t sustainable. Wade was just happy his body couldn’t sustain damage, because the way he was going he’d have created all the health issues by now. He just didn’t know how to get better. It seemed like he’d tried nearly everything.

Drugs!

Yeah!

No.

Alcohol?

Gun again?

Worse.

It was so exhausting feeling like this all the time. To never know when you’d wake up so depressed again that it nearly hurt to move. He just wanted to relax a little bit for once.

Just go ask Cable to throw you against walls again, that’ll make you feel better.

Sometimes it felt like he’d never stopped being 13 and so fucking scared.

He always would be, to some degree. You never really stop being 13, 14, 15…you just get slightly better at it.

Just text him, you know you want to.

“And say what?”

Well, it doesn’t have to be anything interesting. It almost never is, he’s probably used to it.

Wade stared at the coffee table, looking between his gun and phone, and sighed.

And then his phone chimed. Spidey had texted him.

Chapter Text

Wade never claimed to be the healthiest there ever was. Really, the way Spider-Man could just make or break his day with a single word was pretty embarrassing.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

But, well, mental illness was mental illness, and while he tried to get better, he pretended he was better. Fake it till you make it and all that.

So Spidey would say no to getting dinner with him, and Wade would smile and say his goodbyes, and ignore the way his heart fell into his stomach because that was most definitely not a healthy or normal human being reaction. And Wade was a normal human being! Honest! Besides the whole…healing thing.

Wade liked him so much that he almost resented him sometimes. That had to be selfish, right? Sometimes he wondered if he even saw him as an actual human being, separate from him, with a life, and likes and dislikes, and wants, and needs.

And he thought he did, most times. But sometimes he felt extra selfish and couldn’t help but make it all about himself and his feelings before remembering that hey! Spidey was a real person with real thoughts outside of Wade, and owed him absolutely nothing, actually!

He loved him. He did. He knew that. And regardless of how his brain worked sometimes, Wade shouldn’t doubt that, and shouldn’t doubt Spider-Man’s friendship for him, even if it sometimes hurt a little bit in its intensity.

“I can’t keep making him be my main emotional support, it’s so much fucking baggage.”

Well, at least you’ve never told him these things so he doesn’t know how insane you actually are.

I feel like we pretend pretty well?

Yellow snorted.

Wade sighed.

“I’m gonna go take a nap.”

We already took a nap today, though?

Not like you can sleep without having nightmares but whatever.

Wade just lay down and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

Ithurtsithurtsithurts.

Why can't he just like me? Why can't I just be enough?

Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

I'm trying so hard to be good for him, I'm trying so hard, and I put on cologne, and I stopped killing, God, and I try to be funny, why doesn't he laugh, why can't he just like me.

And he tells me he does but really why would he he doesn't HE DOESN'T HE DOESN'T why can't he just actually love me and stop pretending and lying to me why can't he just SAY SOMETHING NICE AND LAUGH.

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE.

He's it for me, there's no one else, but it's so frustrating IT HURTS.

But it's not his fault, it's my fault, why am I even frustrated? He owes me nothing. He doesn't need to tell me anything. But God. God.

Stop talking to other people, are they funnier than me? Why is everyone always fucking better than me, EVEN THOUGH I TRY AND TRY AND TRY it's not fair.

It's not fair.

I don't believe you. I'm sorry.

I love you I swear I love you.

Just a crumb, please.

You don't care fuck why would you I'm so boring and uninteresting and I don't smell good like you and I don't smile pretty like you and I don't have a sweet voice like you and I'm not good I'm not good I'm sorry please how can I be good?

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts and I'm so HUNGRY fuck and I just wanna scream forever.

I'll never believe him.

Chapter Text

“No, but see, the thing is: I just don’t believe you.”

Spidey seemed to stare at him through both their masks.

“Not gonna answer? ‘Cause you know I have a point, huh?”

He imagined Spidey probably blinked behind his mask.

“Sigh! You don’t even like me, do you? Maybe if you stick around for the next – I 'dunno – ten years, I’ll start believing it. Maybe. And it’s not your fault, honestly!”

The Spider-Man plushie kept staring at him.

“It’s just- Well, you’re not very convincing. Not that it matters what you say, really.”

Nothing.

“So, not your fault! But it does kinda suck for me.”

This was getting boring.

“Sometimes I see pictures of you, and it’s like I can’t truly recognize you. It’s like I don’t know you. I wonder what that means. It’s like you’re just some random guy dressed in a skin-tight suit. Not that that’s very common, I guess. You don’t feel real most of the time. Makes me wonder if I’ve finally gone insane. I guess maybe I shouldn’t make up so many imaginary conversations with you in my mind.”

The plushie stayed still.

“I… I think I probably need help, you know? I mean, this can’t be healthy. And you- You don’t deserve this.”

Shut the fuck up and go overdose on diazepam or something.

We don’t keep that stuff around anymore, remember?

Well, clearly we should!

Oh, God, the gun. The gun. Where’s the gun? The gu-