Just Another Wing-Fic

And Things are About to Get as Sirius Black as Can Be.

He wished he were wingless.

Peter fidgeted on the park bench feeling his feathers bristle uncomfortably in their restraints.

Was Wade coming even? Was he being stood up?

It wouldn't have been the first time but he seriously never considered Wade to be one to ditch.

"Figured he would come with some tacos and play it off as a joke. . . ."

Wiping sweaty palms on his jeans he tried to ignore Black Widow where she hung by the empty carasol eating cotton candy with a deadpanned face glaring off into the distance. If it hadn't been for the chilly weather and the coming rain Peter would have been sure that everyone would have left due to her icy stare.

He was being monitored. Like a child.

Growling he turned away, angry that she would witness him being stood up on a first not-date -because he had not officially asked Wade out he mentally reminded himself.

Peter had tried to argue she needn't come with him, but she hinted that there had been reason to worry for his safety even as Peter Parker and he had been so frustrated(and scared for his own life) that he stopped arguing at her bristled wings.

Not to mention she had actually said she wasn't against this maybe-relationship, so he was letting it slide. He wasn't so sure the rest of the team would agree to that so easily.

He remembered her saying something along the lines of," unlike many, I tend to mind my own business so long as it doesn't effect me. Doesn't mean I don't think its a bad decision. . . Maybe it'll calm Deadpool down. He 'has' been less violent as of late."

This would have been easier if he were wingless. Wade was probably fed up presenting with no response after all.

There was a turning in his stomach, a tight clench in his chest that made it hard to swallow and a certain pressure starting to build behind his eyes.

Gwen had never asked about his wings. She had never pried. Now was the first time in years he missed her as much as he did when she first died; craved her wit and sharp tongue, her mature clear minded insight. Even when she had left him for Harry, she had been there for Peter. Gwen Stacy had been the most amazing person he had ever known, and he worked with the avengers. That never ending ache in his chest never fully healed, and never would close or fill once it had appeared after her death. Many times, though, Wade had done wonders to dull that and many other pains.

And Peter felt sick at the idea of the merc creating a painful hole of his own.

"I need to do something and not just sit here darn it," he muttered to himself. Being a solo super for most of his web slinging days, not to mention an outcast nerd his whole life, he polished his art of self conversation quite nicely. He sometimes wondered if he should be concerned. But then again, he was seriously considering mating with Deadpool, Wade Fucking Wilson, so he was truly past the point of worry now.

Grabbing his notebook and pencil out of his bag he began to google research some genetics on wings and writing down ideas for genetic formulas which could focus on wings,"If they think for even a second I am just going to sit around and wait for them to fix this they have another thing coming."
He scratched away formulas and ideas, took down notes from medical websites and things he remembered from his classes that hopefully would prove useful. "It would make most sense," he muttered after a few minutes as he sketch out the well known formula of the simple cycle of the cell," if it targeted my cells as they generated during mitosis."

He trailed off,"I've never tested myself. . . .what if my cells generate differently due to . . . and then it could be that. . . .so they must have known . . . but how," he pushed his glasses up on his nose which was wrinkled in thought as he tilted his head to the side biting the inside of his lip," how would they know about my wings?"
His wings bristled under their restraints, ungroomed feathers positioned uncomfortably against his back. Shifting he thought distantly maybe it was time to groom himself. . . .but the task always seemed too much when knowing he could't stand the sight of them.
Peter shivered as a memory surfaced against his will.