Living With Secrets

Days In The Sun

Wade wandered back to the dorm after class. It had been the first day of classes, and as the tall teen made his way back to where he knew a very comfortable bed would be waiting, he began to get excited for the first time all day.

It was the bed, and his roommate. Peter was incredibly funny, and usually helpful when Wade needed help with his homework. If anyone could make this day better, it would be the snarky brunet, ready with either the answers to Wade's homework or a pun to make him laugh.

Oh, and chimichangas. Wade knew there was a really good Mexican place just off campus, perfect for dinner. Maybe Peter would want to go?

"Pete, buddy, I have a great idea!" Wade threw open the door, dropped his keys on the rack Peter had hung by the door, kicked off his shoes, and turned around.

The room was empty.

"Peter?" Wade whispered theatrically, as if Peter was hiding somewhere. That was one of Peter's favorite things about Wade, actually, how silly he could be. It was kinda dumb, yeah, but it made Peter think of his family and for that, he was grateful.

Deciding his best bet would be to text the other boy, Wade pulled out his phone and sent a text.

Wadey: Where are you???

There was a moment before Wade's roommate responded.

Peter: I'm out, do you need something?

Wadey: WhErE aRe YoUuuuuuu???

Peter: Jeez, Wade, what do you need?

Wadey: I'm feeling lonely! And you'll be gone all weekend!!!

Peter:... I'm on the roof.

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Peter was sitting on the ledge of the building, his eyes closed. He was basking in the sun, letting his body soak up the heat. It was likely the last nice day of the season, and Peter was planning on savoring it.

His phone buzzed, bringing him out of his relaxation. He glanced at it, hoping it was his family talking about dinner tomorrow night, but it was only Wade.

After clinging to his last moments of quiet, Peter gave in and told his roommate he was on the roof.

There were a few more moments of blissful silence, but then Peter heard the metal door from the staircase bang open and the familiar call of "Petey!" came over the roof.

Peter fell backwards, putting his hands behind his back to catch himself, then easing his legs off the ledge. He pulled his legs into a criss-cross, and the teen leaned forward, resting his chin on his arms and his arms on the short wall of the roof.

Wade settled down next to his friend, mirroring his position. "What's up?" His voice had lost the friendly silliness. While Wade normally kept his happy-go-lucky, slighly apathetic tone, and Peter was surprised to hear anything different.

"Nothing," the shorter teen lied. Truth was, he was missing his family. He was missing being Spiderman. He was missing his friends.

"You're lying," Wade said in a sing-song voice, gently rocking his shoulder into Peter's.

"I'm just... I'm tired."

Wade didn't push the subject. Instead, he closed his eyes and let some sun under his hood.

"Why do you always wear a hood?" The silence was broken by Peter's sudden question. Wade opened his eyes, only to find his roommate staring up at him. Now it was Wade's turn to feel awkward.

"I like hoodies," the taller teen said softly.

"You're lying," Peter mumbled.

"I'll tell you about the hoodie thing if you tell me why you were up here looking all gloomy."

Peter sighed. Wade seemed... trustworthy enough. "I miss my family. And my friends. I was an orphan for a while, so when I finally got adopted, I mean... I have a huge family. There's my parents. Then my Uncles, I have 9. Steve, Stephen, Bucky, Clint, Bruce, Rhodey, Sam, Thor, and Loki. Then my Aunty Natasha and my sister Wanda."

"Holy shit," Wade said. "You're family is huge! I keep forgetting that you live in the Tower, honestly, and I just... wow... thats a lot of uncles."

"Yeah," Peter laughed. "You actually remind me a lot of them, they are so silly and fun."

The two boys sat in silence again. Wade was hoping that Peter had forgotten about the other part of the deal, and let a small smirk tug at his mouth.

"So. Your turn."

Just as quick as the hope had come, it melted away at Peter's words.

"Yeah," Wade mumbled, rubbing a hand over his hood. He stalled, then looked up at the sky. "You know, actually, its kind of chilly out. Could we maybe, uhm, we could go get food, or, I'm hungry and I know-"

"Wade," Peter whined. "You said-" He cut himself off. Wade's hands were shaking, slightly, and he was silent. "You, uh, you said you were hungry. Let's go get some dinner," Peter quickly covered up his pleading. He wasn't going to make the other boy uncomfortable, and clearly whatever was going on was serious.

Peter stood up and began to walk towards the door to the stair case. He felt a strong hand on his wrist, pulling him back. Wade had his head low, and when he lowered his hood, Peter got an eyeful of beautifully blond hair.

"Woah," he breathed. "You have the most amazing hair, dude, it looks just like my Uncle Steve's but a lot softer! Why would you want to cover it... up"

Peter faltered at the end, as Wade lifted his head. Peter saw a burn scar, running from the part in his hair, just above his left eye, down to his jaw, running over the bridge of his nose. Peter reached a hand to his own scar, also on his left cheek, and ran a finger down it. He wasn't even aware that he was doing it.

"See?" Wade's voice was bitter now, very different from the silly voice he used and the softer one Peter had heard just a few minutes ago. "Its just an ugly scar, and no one wants to see it. More than that, though, I don't want the stares or the pity."

Suddenly it all made sense. Wad'es persona, his constant joking about being handsome, the nonstop hoodies, the fact that he was actively choosing to be alone. Sure, Peter chose being alone most of the time, too, but never because he was afraid of not being enough.

"Wade," Peter's voice was soft and cautious. He reached a tentative hand out to his friends shoulder, only to have it shrugged off.

"No, I don't want your sympathy! I don't want pity. I just want to be a normal kid like everyone else, so that's why I keep my hood up." The taller boy started to move towards the door, snapping his hood back up.

"I wasn't pitying you."

Those 4 words made Wade stop in his tracks.

"You don't think I catch stares all the time, too? And not for who I am, at least, not after the initial 'that's Peter Stark' shock. Its my scars, Wade."

Wade turned back to his roommate, taking in his features at a much more detailed rate, looking at the boy in front of him carefully. There was a scar, deep and thick across his left cheek. There was a smaller scar by his hairline, where a small cowlick kept a few curls up in the air. They continued down his shoulders, peaking out from Peter's tee-shirt. The shorter boy slowly lifted his shirt, showing off a maze of scars, some thin and some thick, as well as a few more solid scars, round and raised. Wade knew they were bullet wounds.

"You're not the only one with scars, Wade. All they are, are proof that we made it through some pretty messed up shit. People who don't have that same messed up shit in their pasts don't get that. But honestly, you don't even look that bad, you've got nice eyes, I mean, and good hair, I'd kill for hair like that, and I-"

"Okay, okay, I get it, shut up," Wade laughed, throwing his head back and letting his hood fall. "Are we gonna get dinner now?"

Peter nodded, and the two made their way out of the bright sunlight.