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The battle was over.
The rubble was settling.
And Spider-Man was… gently swaying in place like a leaf in a light breeze, head tilted, one lens cracked, suit torn to shreds. He looked like someone had microwaved a teenager on high for 30 seconds.
Out of the smoke burst Deadpool, sprinting in "slow motion" (aka normal speed, but dramatically flailing his arms slowly), his voice cracking with emotion.
“SPIDER-MAN! NOOOOOO!!!!"" he wailed. Then stopped. "Oh wait, you’re alive. Okay, cool. But like, barely alive. Which is still alive! I'LL TAKE IT!”
He started running and dove full-body onto Peter, arms and legs wrapping around him like some kind of violent emotional boa constrictor.
Peter flinched. “Huh—uh? Who? What’s happening?”
Deadpool let out a sob and pressed his forehead against Peter’s.
“Wait. You don’t remember me. Oh my God. You don’t remember me. It’s like Fifty First Dates, but you're Drew Barrymore and I'm Samwise Gamgee and there’s more grenades involved!”
Peter blinked slowly. “I don’t… know who you are.”
Deadpool gasped like someone just spoiled a Marvel post-credits scene.
“YES. OH MY GOD, YES. I’M A STRANGER! A DANGEROUS, MASKED STRANGER! AND YOU SAID—wait for it—you feel like you can trust me.”
Peter smiled dazedly. “Yeah. I do. I feel like I can trust you.”
Deadpool let out a sound that can only be described as “unhinged dolphin laughter” and started spinning in gleeful circles, dragging Peter with him like a limp ragdoll.
“I’M YOUR DAD NOW. THIS IS IT. YOU SAID IT. IT’S BINDING. I’M LEGALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR SOUL UNTIL YOU’RE 45 OR TURN INTO A LIZARD, WHICHEVER COMES FIRST.”
“Please stop spinning,” Peter mumbled, “the street is melting.”
Just then, Iron Man landed with the force of a man who has run out of patience and caffeine.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL IS HAPPENING HERE?!”
Deadpool turned, still holding Peter bridal-style, eyes gleaming.
“Oh good, it’s the walking guilt complex. Tony, great news! Your spider-son chose me as his emotional support mercenary during his traumatic short-term memory loss!”
Tony’s face twisted into disbelief. “Peter, that is Deadpool. The man who once tried to bribe a SWAT team with churros, got banned from SeaWorld for fighting a dolphin, and was legally declared a fire hazard in three states.”
Deadpool looked indignant. "I'll have you know it's up to five states!! And that dolphin had it coming!"
Tony didn't stop and continued, pointing furiously. “He is a walking liability with swords. He once live-tweeted a stakeout, got into a fistfight with a Chuck E. Cheese mascot over moral philosophy, and built a flamethrower labeled ‘emotional support device.’”
Deadpool nodded proudly. “It only caught one community center on fire. And the churros were homemade.”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “He once wore an octopus as a hat to a UN meeting, and—oh, don’t even get me started on his knife obsession.” He turned to Peter. “He thinks knives are ‘friendship keys.’”
Deadpool enthusiastically waved a plastic butter knife in the air. “That’s right! Every good friendship deserves the right utensils, and this bad boy is non-threatening… unless you’re a literal threat. Then it’s a personal statement.”
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “He also thinks CPR stands for ‘Chimichangas Per Ration,’ which is what got him kicked out of a Red Cross seminar. Twice.”
Deadpool dramatically patted his chest. “They didn’t appreciate my passion for rationing… okay, I admit, the fire extinguisher wasn’t necessary, but that’s not the point! I stand by my belief that every person deserves their own chimichanga, and a side of life-saving instructions!”
Tony turned to Peter, eyes twitching. “He should not be allowed near sharp objects, soft objects, or mirrors during a full moon.”
Deadpool gave a thumbs-up. “That’s how you know I’m working on my self-control.”
Deadpool then turned to Peter with over-the-top tenderness. “Don’t listen to the mean man, sweetie. He’s just mad because you called me trustworthy before he got a turn.”
Tony gritted his teeth and turned to Peter. “Kid. It’s me. Tony. Tony Stark. You know me.”
Peter tilted his head. “Tony? That name feels…warm. Like expensive cologne and emotional repression.”
Tony’s eyes softened. “Yes! Exactly. That’s me.”
Peter blinked. “Cool. Still don’t know you.”
Tony deflated slightly.
Peter pointed. “But I feel like I can trust you.”
Tony smirked, vindicated—until Peter immediately turned, looked at a nearby brick wall, and said, with total sincerity:
“…I also trust you. You’ve always been there. Solid. Unmoving. Greg. Your name is Greg.”
Tony paled. “Did he just emotionally imprint on a wall?”
Deadpool clapped his hands proudly. “That’s my boy! Identifies stability in his environment. Beautiful.”
Peter wandered over to the wall and gently rested his forehead against it. “Greg wouldn’t lie to me. Greg understands.”
Tony took two steps forward. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m taking him to the Tower.”
“EXCUSE ME?” Deadpool gasped. “You can’t just take him! He’s not a stray dog! He’s my trauma bonded chimichanga loveless child! He picked me!”
“I’m the adult here!”
“I’m the better adult! He needs someone fun and chaotic and willing to fight God with a Nerf bat if needed! Plus, I already built his recovery pillow fort."
“He needs a concussion screen!”
Peter mumbled from the wall, “I need juice…”
Deadpool immediately pulled a juice box out of his utility belt. “HERE. MANGO TANGO FLAVORED. PRE-PIERCED STRAW.”
Tony looked at it, horrified. “Why is that even—”
Deadpool hissed, “DADPOOL ALWAYS PREPARES.”
Peter took the juice and sipped quietly.
Deadpool crouched next to him, running his fingers gently through his disheveled hair. “That’s right, baby spider. You hydrate. Let the chaos daddies work this out.”
Tony clenched his fists. “I swear to God, Wade—”
“You will respect my parental authority or I will duel you on a bouncy castle.”
“This is a human child, not joint custody of a Roomba!”
Peter lay down on the pavement and whispered, “Greg says he wants to come too.”
Deadpool nodded solemnly. “We can get him in the Uber. He can sit in the front.”
Tony screamed.
TO BE CONTINUED...
(Deadpool tries to spoon-feed Peter Jell-O while Tony files an emergency injunction with SHIELD.)