chapter seven. [edited]

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TW: descriptions of a panic attack 

Everyone was frantic and running around the Tower left and right. The tension was thick and Peter has been gone for three hours and still no sign of him.

Tony and Stephen asked the others to help look for him, panic taking over. Natasha and Clint quickly went out to the streets, running around looking for the kid. While Bruce and Harley tracked the security cameras to see what direction Peter might have run off to

Tony and Stephen were currently running around the opposite side of town from Natasha and Clint. Constantly checking with Bruce and Harley for any updates on a lead.

Meanwhile, a stream of tears was coming down Peter's face. He'd been sitting on top of an abandoned music studio for the past hour. He needed to catch his breath and process what had just happened. He hadn't done much, helped a few people here and there, but he just wanted a break.

His mask was pulled above his mouth and rested on the bridge of his nose. He was heaving, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air again. It was like his own body knew there was something wrong and simply refused. The oxygen refused to stay in him. He kept pulling at his chest, in dire need of air. His throat was closing up, his eyes on the brim of tears again. He knew what was coming, he was having a panic attack.

Peter dropped his head to his knees and gave up. He settled for short and quick breathes. It was suffocating. It felt like he forgot how to breathe. He couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Whenever he tried to talk, his chest clogged up and refused to let him get a word out. He was choking on sobs and all he wanted to do was disappear. And if that didn't seem like enough, he felt his Spidey sense go off.

As quickly as he could, Peter pulled his mask back down, refusing to show any weakness, and turned around.

It seemed like the universe was not on his side today.

There stood Deadpool, playfully leaning against a katana. Before Peter could try and get a word out, Deadpool started.

"You know Spidey boy, I really didn't want it to come to this but, bills gotta get paid. And the author wanted some plot so, here we are!"

Peter didn't understand the last half of that but before he could ask, he saw Deadpool charge at him. He quickly dodged the merc and swung to the other rooftop.

"Oh, you're gonna be fun! So are we playing tag now? I guess I'm 'it'!

Deadpool laughed and began to chase Peter.

Peter was frantically trying to run. Swinging to any opening he saw. This isn't good. New York was always busy so no one paid attention to Peter desperately trying to cling to any building he saw insight. He was heaving, desperately trying to intake oxygen. Deadpool was fast. Not only fast, but he knew New York like the back of his hand. Every corner Peter would turn, Deadpool would appear from another angle.

Peter's only advantage was his ability to swing. But, even that didn't stop Deadpool. His regeneration ability allowed him to jump from building to building without a care in the world.

Peter was losing his mind. He's been away from home for so long. His family was probably looking for him. He's being chased by a mercenary, who clearly needs him dead. He can't breathe and, oh shit.

He can't breathe.

Peter collapsed in an empty alleyway. He couldn't breathe. His head felt dizzy and New York went quiet. Peter propped himself against the wall and clung to his suit. Pulling and tugging at it and if it would let air reach his lungs. In a moment of panic and distress, Peter threw his mask off and started to take quick breathes. He started pulling at his hair and hugging his knees to his chest.

Everything was falling apart and it was his fault. The air felt thick. There seemed to be no noise other than his unsteady breathing. Until he heard, "Peter Parker?"

Fuck, at the moment, Peter completely forgot Deadpool was chasing him. It left his mind when he took off his mask. His cover was blown. He'd manage to keep his secret for so long and he just fucked up the one thing he had for himself. Now there really was no oxygen. It was thick and sour.

He couldn't breathe.

Peter's eyes finally started to water again and he broke down in his arms. Hugging his knees to his chest and burring his face. He started to shake and rock back and forth.

This wasn't good.

He'd been gone from home for so long. Someone could walk by and see him.

This wasn't good.

He can't breathe.

The air around him felt cold. Colder than usual. He started to shiver and desperately hugged himself. It's cold.

He can't breathe.

He's shaking. He wants to go home. And then he felt two arms around him. He was pulled into a warm embrace and was held tightly. "Hey, it's ok. Try to call down a bit." Hearing another voice was reassuring but Peter couldn't process anything. There was too much going on. He clung tightly onto the mercenary and broke down sobbing in his arms. No words were spoken except for the older's occasional "shh, it's ok".

Time felt useless. Like a concept that wasn't currently necessary. Peter has no idea how much time passed. All he knew was he was balling his eyes out.

After was few moments of just being held and crying, Peter slowly got his breath back. He looked up at Deadpool, who simply wiped his tear-stained face and muttered, "Alright Spider-Guy, let's do this some other time. Right now, let's get you home."

Peter just agreed and threw his mask on. They walked in complete silence. Nothing but a few sniffles from Peter here and there. He could finally hear New York again. The busy buzzing of the streets and the traffic. It was better than nothing. Deadpool dropped him off at the tower before he said "When you get better, let's resume this game!"


"Boss, Peter has been spotted in an alleyway in Brooklyn. He has company."

FRIDAY announced into Tony's suit, he and Stephen were somewhere in Manhattan by that point.

"FRIDAY who's with him?"

"From the visuals, he appears to be accompanied by the infamous mercenary, Deadpool. He isn't injured. They appear to be heading back to the Tower."

That was all it took for Tony and Stephen to quickly make a portal back to the Tower.


Peter let out a soft chuckle and made his way inside. They were probably worried sick. He took his mask off and took a deep breath, finally being able to breathe again. He went up to the floor where he walked him and all eyes fell on him

"Peter, what the hell are you wearing?"

What? What are they talking ab-

Peter's eyes widened as the realization hit him on what he was wearing. He was still in his suit. Fuck. "Are you Spider-Man?"

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