Living With Secrets

As If

Spiderman set Deadpool down on the roof of a building. They were up pretty high, and the access door was locked, so hopefully they'd be able to have a private conversation uninterrupted.

"So," Spiderman said, crossing his arms and turning to the other man. "Care to explain what I just walked in on?"

"Gladly, good sir," Deadpool teased, bowing slightly. "Can we at least sit? My legs are killing me, and after flying through the air with every muscle in my body tensed, I'd like to relax."

Spiderman flopped down onto the concrete roof, crossing his legs and arms. "Now talk."

Deadpool laid down on the roof, his legs crossed at the knees and his hands beneath his head. "You know who I am?"

"Vaguely, I know you're not a superhero, but you're not a villain either. I know you get paid to kill people. I know you sometimes work with SHEILD, but not as an agent." Deadpool nodded along.

"Yeah," he laughed. "That sums it up."

Spiderman waited for the mercenary to continue speaking. When he didn't, he threw his hands out, palms up, as if to ask 'where's the rest?'

"That's it? How does that make it all good? Why shouldn't I call the police right now?"

Deadpool craned his neck, looking at the teen next to him. "Listen, I've been doing this for a while, now. SHEILD uses me for information, yeah, but I don't like 'working' for people. Or being told what to do. I'm sure you can relate."

Spiderman let out a short laugh. "Yeah, that part I get. I'm not a fan of being someone's pawn."

"Never thought about being part of the Avengers?"

"Nah," Spiderman sighed, leaning back on his elbows and staring up at the inky, starless sky. "Listen, I'm a superhero. Specifically, the little guys' superhero. Avengers are always... going off, saving the world, doing the big stuff. Sometimes I help with that, 'cause they need help, but usually I just want to stop muggers and save little kids from fires. You never see the big guys saving people from everyday stuff."

"You're surprising," Deadpool said. "I would have thought it was because you're some super cool teen who can't be held down. Really, you're a little more like me, concerned with the stuff that gets overlooked."

"As if," Spiderman laughed bitterly. "I'm nothing like you. I'm not killing people."

Deadpool put a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt, Spidey! I may be killing people, but I'm only killing the bad ones. That guys back there? He was a child trafficker. You never see SHEILD or the Avengers taking out the sleezeballs or the drug lords out. That's my job."

The two teens fell into a comfortable silence, each one thinking about morals and their place in the world of crime fighting.

"So. Avengers takes out big guys, you take out the medium guys, and I take out the little guys?" Spiderman's question was sincere, but laced with self-doubt. Deadpool picked up on it easily.

"Not quiet," he teased, wagging a finger at the other boy. "Avengers and SHEILD take out the aliens and the big guys that are gonna destroy the planet. I take out the guys who are tryna destroy children and poor families and women. You take out the guys who are tryna destroy law and order. And little old women with purses. And morals, yeah, throw morals in there."

Spiderman laughed, a real laugh this time. "Hey, I kinda like that. I should use that for my slogan."

Deadpool laughed, too. "All I'm saying it that we're all important to keeping the world safe. We're just... doing it in different ways. My way just happens to be a little more bloody and I get paid."

"Hey, if I could get paid for what I do?" Spiderman left the question open.

"As if! You're not like me, Spidey. You don't want to save people for money, you just wanna save them. You're 100% good, all perfect hero."

Spiderman smiled softly. "Maybe. I don't know. Why do you do it for money? Why don't you just take them out for free?"

"For one," Deadpool started. "I don't have many other skills besides my healing factor. I can't hack into data bases or anything, so I need someone else to give me the information. Secondly, I want you to know that sometimes I do take em out for free, like when I stumble on a case or something, but usually I get paid. I need the cash, I'm not exactly rolling in wealth."

"Oh? Got some cute little condo in Manhattan you gotta keep up?" Spiderman teased, throwing a soft punch at Deadpool's arm.

"Manhattan? Are you crazy? No way. I live in a run down apartment in Queens, nearly falling apart, running water is a maybe and heat is a solid no." Deadpool laughed, but Spiderman could tell he had struck a nerve.

"Sorry, man, I wasn't thinking. I get it, cash used to be pretty tight for me, too. I was an orphan for a long time."

"Damn," Deadpool breathed. "Tough luck. Me, too, though. Lots of us are."

"Us?"

"People with powers."

"So you do have a power," Spiderman's smirk was audible through his mask. "What is it?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Deadpool joked.

"Alright," Spiderman said, standing up. "I've got the webs, as you saw, and then I have super strength, speed, and senses. Oh, and spider-sense, which tells me when something is about to happen. And I can climb walls, I stick to stuff, and lastly, I can heal pretty fast."

"Oh, buddy boy, my little friend, I have you beat!" Deadpool jumped up, ran to the edge of the building, and leapt off.

Spiderman raced to the edge, jumped off, and shot a web. He was almost to the man in red and black when he was pushed away.

"What are you doing?"

"Showing you my power! Trust me!" Deadpool shoved the other hero away again, and despite Spiderman's best efforts, he hurtled into the ground with a sickening snap.

"Oh, my God," Spiderman gasped, his eyes wide and fear taking over his face. "Deadpool!"

The hero landed on the pavement softly, rushing over to the mercenary. "Jesus Christ, what the hell?"

Just as Spiderman was about to pick him up, Deadpool lifted his head. "Hiya, Spidey."

Spiderman jumped back. "What the fuck," he breathed softly.

"I told ya, I have you beat. I can't die, no matter what!"

Spiderman felt his back hit a wall, and he slid down it into a sitting position. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Deadpool said, a chuckle rising in his throat. There were a few pops and the merc let out a hiss of pain, then stood up. He was covered in blood.

"Are you okay?"

"Absolutely perfect, never been better. I'll need a little bit longer to heal all the way, but the legs are fine now," Deadpool said.

"It's a quicker heal factor than mine, that's for sure," Spiderman chuckled.

The two were quiet for a moment, then Deadpool broke the silence.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," he confessed. "And I didn't want to cause you any sort of... moral crisis."

"Nah," Spiderman waved the apology away. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine. You were right, you could explain everything perfectly. You're a good guy, even if you kill people, which I still think is totally not okay."

"No one has ever said that to me," Deadpool said.

Suddenly, Spiderman turned his head, as if he were listening to something on his right.

"Hey, I'm sorry, man, but I gotta go. I was supposed to be home 2 hours ago. You gonna be okay to get home?"

Deadpool laughed. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I've made my way home in way worse shape than this. I'll see you around, Spider boy."

"See ya, Deadpool!"

The two teens parted ways, Spiderman swinging into the night and Deadpool limping back to his little apartment in Queens.