𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 & 𝐖𝐀𝐃𝐄: 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐒

17; Everything To Loose

🕸;

Tony darted down the hallway with the footage, his eyes wide with fear. Peter hadn't been lying, he wasn't hallucinating.

What did this mean?

As he stalked down the stairs, he paused. Tony's eyes darted around. The lights weren't turning on in the hallway. He watched as Friday's blue lights started to snap off. One by one, inching to kill the bulbs.

" Friday?" Tony asked for his A.I., but he was answered by a silence. It pierced his ears like a loud siren, and caused his heart to take a fall into his stomach.

The dead lights lit with a neon green, just as slow as they had died. As the glow inched down the hallway, his eyes were met with a goblin mask.

The green face was lifted into a smile, and it's eyes were open wide, like they were mad with power. Tony felt himself straighten up a little shaking his head as the body started stepping closer and closer.

This is it, Tony.

As it stalked, Tony took small steps backward. His eyes shut and anxiety boiled up over him when his back smacked against the wall. A large chest pressed against his own and his lashes sprung open.

Those eyes taunted him as he stared, the masks wide grin caused him to tremble. A large hand found his throat, and lightly stroked the soft skin. Fingers glided over his sharp jaw, and a thumb pressed against his bottom lip.

" You and I want the same thing," the deep voice purred from behind the mask. " Do not tremble at my presence. We are not enemies."

Tony slowly nodded, trying to suppress the tears in his eyes. He was so hesitant as he leaned into the touch. He didn't know why he did it. The touch was just so comforting and..

What are you doing, you idiot?

Push him away!

Someone just broke in and you're going to let them?

Despite the screaming in his head, he did the opposite. His quiet voice slipping out as his hand groped the large one that calmly stroked his skin: "what do you want?"

" I want that mercenary out of Peter's life," The calmness he spoke in was enticing. The deep rumble was smooth and shaky all in one, sending little shivers down Tony's body. " I can't do this without you.."

" How do you want me to help?"

" It's so simple.." The man in the mask purred.

The Goblin leaned in, and whispered quietly in his ear. Fingers lightly combed through his hair while the whispers echoed in his mind. He could feel every word sliver through his mind and confirm every little doubt he had.

Tony hadn't been doing so well lately. He had closed himself off and separated himself from the others.

Dissacociating. That's what the shrink had called it. He felt like he wasn't in his own body, he felt like nothing was real and nothing mattered anyway.

The Shrink had given him medicine, and he took it everyday. Everyday despite the zombie-like feeling, or the uncontrollable trembles it caused him, or the suppression of the voices.

Even the one that distinguished his morals, told him what he needed to do and how he felt. Then the pills stopped working. He still took them, in hopes they'd spring back to life but everything got so loud an chaotic and that other numb feeling, the bad one, ran through his mind.

So there he stood, his body pressed against the villain. Eyes shut and hands grasping for something. Something he didn't know he needed.

Touch.

That's right, he thought quietly as the goblin wrapped his arms around his much smaller frame. That's right..

He stayed there, until the lights turned back on and tears rolled down his cheeks. Tony wondered for a moment if it was real at all. If he had imagined the man, here to help him, and take him somewhere that he could actually feel something.

It was undeniable, though. When he had laid in bed beside Steve and stared at the wall like he always did. Sleep lost and never found. As soon as his eyes laid on the little note on his bedside table that it became real. Painfully real and he one exactly what he had to do.

♡ ; ♡

Peter woke up to a loud sound, his body was stiff. His cold hands grasped for the warm sheets that Wade's warm body always left and he sighed when soft fingertips dragged over the skin that always felt lile lava. Boiling lava.

This time he didn't feel the small shiver and the sigh of relief that came from Wade. His touch was soothing, cold to the touch, cold enough that Wade was pulled from his pain for just a minute. The cancer melted for just a second. And he could relax.

Peter tried again, this time his arms wrapped lazily around the large frame beside him but nothing. His brows furrowed and his eyes stayed closed tight.

He could feel that odd feeling surround his skin, sensitive and stimulating in the worst way. That pit appeared in his stomach and his body tensed.

Not for danger. This was a warning.

Peter's fingers felt the sheets and he choked out a little cry, there was something wet on the sheets. Thick and hot, and spreading. Spreading.

He felt a little spasm run through the body in his arms and he realized he had to do it. Peter had to look.

Slowly, his hands that were coated in the thick liquid, moved to settle under his lover's nose. There was no air intake.

Another quiet cry fell into the deep silence of the morning. Peter lifted himself up and pried his eyes open. Blood everywhere.

Blood spreading and seeping into the Star Wars sheets.

Slowly he pulled the " New Hope" comforter off of Wade and a noise erupted from deep in his throat.

The noise burned as it came up, and the smell of death stung his nostrils. His soft eyes fell over the metal rods thrusted into Wade's head, and the hand that went stiff where it had been reaching for a sleeping Peter.

Tears blurred his vision and he quietly curled up on the other side of Wade. Peter ignored the blood in the sheets and clung tightly to his body. Every quiet cry hurt like hell, as he attached himself to the half-dead love of his life.

" Red, I'm sorry. Can you hear me?" He whisper-yelled to the corpse. Peter's hands grasping and tugging and touching all over.

After awhile of crying, and silently suffocating under the thick comforter his instinct took over.

Peter couldn't remember doing it. It was like a fever dream.

He didn't remember doing it.

He didn't remember doing it.

He didn't remember doing it.

.· '𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌☆'¨) ¸.·*¨)

　　(¸.·' (¸.·'* (¸.·'* (¸.·'* (¸.·'* (¸.·'* *¨)