ꨄ tangled hearts • spideypool ꨄ

5 • can't do it alone

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Tonight, a high-stakes mission loomed—a dangerous syndicate was planning a major heist, and Peter knew he couldn't afford to miss it. Despite his better judgment and the unresolved issues between him and Wade, Peter decided to go alone. His mind was clouded with a mix of determination and desperation, an attempt to prove something to himself and perhaps to Wade, who had been uncharacteristically distant.

He donned his Spider-Man suit, the familiar sensation of the tight fabric and the weight of the mask offering him a fragile shield against his mounting anxiety. As he swung through the city, the night seemed to close in around him, the darkness mirroring the turmoil within.

Arriving at the warehouse where the syndicate was making their move, Peter's heart raced. The building loomed before him, a hulking, foreboding structure. He slipped inside, every creak of the floor and whisper of the wind heightening his senses. The silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaotic fight he anticipated.

He cautiously approached the center of the warehouse, where he could hear muffled voices and the clinking of metal. His spider-sense tingled, a premonition of danger that he couldn't ignore. But as he rounded the corner, the scene before him was far worse than he had imagined.

The warehouse was a hive of activity, filled with heavily armed thugs and the syndicate's ruthless leader. Peter's presence did not go unnoticed. The criminals, alerted to his arrival, turned with malicious grins, their weapons glinting in the dim light.

Peter tried to fight back, but the odds were stacked against him. The thugs swarmed him, their numbers overwhelming his agility and strength. Despite his best efforts, he was quickly overpowered. Every punch and kick seemed to come from all directions, leaving him battered and disoriented.

The leader of the syndicate stepped forward, his cold, calculated gaze meeting Peter's through the haze of the battle. "Well, well, if it isn't Spider-Man. Did you really think you could take us on all by yourself?"

Peter struggled to get up, but his movements were slow and labored. "I... I'm not done yet," he gasped, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of the fight.

The leader's smile widened, his voice dripping with venom. "You should have known better than to come here alone. Now you'll pay the ultimate price."

Peter was dragged to the center of the warehouse, the thugs holding him down as the leader loomed over him. The room was a blur of faces and cruel intentions, the sound of Peter's labored breathing the only other noise breaking the oppressive silence.

Panic surged through Peter as he realized the gravity of his situation. He had been wrong to think he could handle this alone. The criminals were closing in, their intentions clear and menacing.

Just as the situation seemed hopeless, a loud crash shattered the warehouse's grim atmosphere. Peter's heart leapt with a mixture of fear and hope. Through the dust and debris, a familiar figure emerged—Wade, or rather, Deadpool.

Wade's entrance was a whirlwind of chaos. He fought with a frenetic energy, his movements a blur of controlled violence and irreverent humor. The thugs were caught off guard, their ranks thinning under Wade's relentless assault.

"Did someone order a side of Deadpool with their Spider-Man?" Wade shouted, his voice laced with a dark, sardonic humor that contrasted sharply with the dire situation.

Peter, though battered and bruised, watched in a daze as Wade cleared the room with a combination of skill and sheer unpredictability. The leader, realizing the fight was turning against him, attempted to flee, but Wade swiftly put an end to his escape.