Recovery: Spideypool fanfic

Messenger's Duty part 1

Loki walked down the street among the other mortals, everyone walked past him not knowing he was a god among them. He finally came near Deadpool's apartment the streets were littered to extremes but Loki didn't mind since he was here for Peter to try and make him come home or just at least talk to him. He had come towards the street where Deadpool's apartment lay but he heard some moaning from the alley and went to investigate. He knew it could be a trap but there was a chance it's was Peter. He approached slowly and looked at his surroundings before checking the man below him.

"Are you oka-" he asked before staring down at his side. The metal slid in quietly and out without a sound. The blood that rushed out slowed as the air captured it, holding it as it flowed down his shirt. His eyes scattered around him as he stumbled back clutching his side. He had his powers taken away from him when he was expelled from Asgard, his father thought it would be a suitable punishment. But now here he stayed swaying from side to side as the world grew dark spots. The man had come towards him by now and was searching his pockets, nothing was there his search and attack led to no success, he stabbed someone for nothing. Loki had suddenly noticed he was laying on the ground the world swirling and darkening in front of his eyes. The last thing he saw was the rain that pelted his skin,falling peacefully in the fading world.

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Spiderman flew across the skyline, the rain had began to fall but he didn't care. His wounds had begun to heal as he ran towards his boyfriend's apartment. He arrived just a rooftop just next to the apartment when he heard a commotion below. He looked over the edge to find a man curled up on himself, his long black hair was soaked to his scalp. His face was quite pale and his face grimaced every so often. He leaped down to the alley below slowing approaching the pale man. Every thought told him to leave this man be or it wasn't his issue but hey he was Spiderman and he was there to help everyone no matter what. The man groaned then turned to his side, clutching his side with a great amount of force. Just as he approached the pale man emerald eyes shot open at him and everything stopped. His mouth opened but closed as the words wouldn't come out of his throat. The man got up and walked towards him but failed to walk more than a few feet before flopping down to the ground whimpering when he impacted the black concrete.

"What..what are you doing here?" Spiderman asked his voice wavering as he stared at the man who kept trying to approach him.

"Peter...I came to talk to you... I thought I would be able to..." He gurgled out ,his voice dimming as each word was forcibly served out. He plopped down once more and let his eyes roll back into his head. He had failed once more, another failure to add to his growing list. Peter stared down then his mind began to clear.

"You idiot that's your fudging Uncle!" He yelled to himself smacking his forehead," God and I just stood here and let him pass out great, nice going Spidey!" He scolded to himself as he picked up the limp body and climbed back up to the building top. His uncle surprisingly wore regular mortal clothes for once and not his asgardian dress up. Which made everything easier to check his wound. Carefully he lifted up the drenched shirt, trying to not inflict any excessive damage. The wound was nasty, blood still flowed out but at same time dried caked blood rimmed the entrance. He poked the wound slightly and received a steady flow of the red liquid as a result. The sudden pouring rain wasn't helping. Loki had begun to shake under him and turned to his side to curl in on himself, Peter had stopped him since that position would only worsen the wound. Prying him off the ground he headed over to his apartment where he used to stay before the accident. He wished he could stay over Deadpool's but for his uncles sake it would be better to go to his place.

Surprisingly the place was just how it was when he left, clean with a few clothes scattered across the floor. He was proud if his little apartment even if his dad had paid for half of it, but admiration had to wait. The body in his arms was still and inanimate the small rise and fall of his chest the only sign of life. Laying him down on the floor, he lifted up the shirt to attend to the wound, yellow pus had begun to file out of the opening it's cakey texture visible without a single touch.