{edited}
Peter swung through the streets of New York, dodging buildings and streetlamps as the sun set below the horizon, welcoming small stars into the night sky. Cars and pedestrians went by underneath him in a blur. After a bit longer of swinging, Peter landed on a random roof, sitting down cross legged.
A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rested back on his hands, staring out at the city before him. For a few moments he sat there, mesmerized by the city lights. Suddenly, Peter's spidey sense spiked up in the back of his mind, drumming at the sensation of a possible threat.
"Hi there!" A voice rang out, making the young hero jump up. Peter whipped around, hands ready to swing to see none other than the infamous Deadpool. Peter shook his head slightly, getting ready to defend himself. "Aw, I'm not gonna hurt you Spidey!"
Peter narrowed his eyes at the red and black suited man, beginning to rock on the balls of his feet. Deadpool simply stood there, his hands on his face like a surprised child. "It's been my most wildest dream to meet you!" Deadpool gasped, jumping up and down.
Peter shrunk back a bit as Deadpool approached him, skipping gleefully. Deadpool immediatly stilled when he saw the slight flinch Peter gave off when he had advanced towards him.
"Oh my, where are my manners! I'm Deadpool, but since I like you, you can call me Wade!" Deadpool, or now known as Wade face palmed and stuck his hand out for Peter to shake.
The warning in the back of Peter's mind had long since vanished and he slowly retracted himself from his battle stance, and hesitantly reached out to shake Wade's hand. Wade grinned like an idiot under his mask and giggled.
"So... since I told you my name, you should tell me yours!" Wade exclaimed after letting go of Peters hand. The younger boy shook his head and turned away, already ashamed of his muteness.
"What? Am I that bad of a person that you can't even tell me your name?" Wade whined, turning Peter around by his shoulders. The teen huffed in frustration.
"I don't have a voice to tell you! That's why I won't tell you my name!" Peter signed, for what he thought to be no reason, but Wade fell silent.
"Are you a... are you a mute?" Wade asked hesitantly. He didn't know if he had read the red and blue clad teen's sign language right. Peter looked up at Wade, shocked for a moment before nodding slightly. "Um... will you tell me why? Please?"
Peter sighed quietly before shrugging. Screw it, he thought and readied his hands.
"My parents died when I was around the age of eight, then my uncle died when I was eleven, and aunt died when I was thirteen. I guess it all just got me away from my voice. I didn't have anyone to talk to, or at least anyone who would listen, so I just stopped talking..." Peter signed quickly.
Wade stood there for a moment, running over the hand gestures Peter had just done. "Do you want to speak again?" He asked quietly. Peter thought for a minute.
"I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to the idea, and I guess it would be better for everyone." The teen signed, looking to the side. Wade nodded intently.
"Do you want me to help you, maybe?" Wade asked quickly. Peter stood there for a minute, looking at the ground. Could he trust the red and black clad mercenary? Finally, with slight hesitation, he nodded.
After two hours of trying to find Peter's voice, the teen's throat felt like it was on fire. Wade felt terrible for the younger boy, but Peter refused to quit trying.
"I-I, nghh... I-" Peter struggled, straining his vocal chords.
"Spidey, maybe we should stop for now..." Wade suggested, clearly becoming worried. Peter shook his head stubbornly.
"I... I-I... I am-m, P... Pete-Pete, Pete, er.... P-Peter."
-
disclaimer: Wade is seventeen