
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6112060.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Spider-Man_-_All_Media_Types, Deadpool_-_All_Media_Types, Marvel, Hawkeye
      (Comics), The_Avengers_(Marvel)_-_All_Media_Types, Marvel_Cinematic
      Universe
  Relationship:
      Spider-Man/Deadpool, Peter_Parker/Wade_Wilson, Clint_Barton/Peter_Parker,
      Clint_Barton/Wade_Wilson, Clint_Barton/Peter_Parker/Wade_Wilson, Hawkeye/
      Spider-Man, Hawkeye/Deadpool, Hawkeye/Spider-Man/Deadpool, Steve_Rogers/
      Tony_Stark, Jarvis_(Iron_Man_movies)/Tony_Stark
  Character:
      Peter_Parker, Spider-Man, Wade_Wilson, Deadpool, Clint_Barton, Hawkeye,
      Steve_Rogers, Captain_America_-_Character, Tony_Stark, Iron_Man, Natasha
      Romanov, Bruce_Banner, Thor, Phil_Coulson, May_Parker_(Spider-Man), Gwen
      Stacey_-_Character, Mary_Jane_Watson, Jarvis_(Iron_Man_movies), Kate
      Bishop
  Additional Tags:
      Caw_Caw_Motherfucker, Spidey_Sense, disappointing_captain_america, Deaf
      Clint_Barton
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-02-26 Updated: 2017-08-10 Chapters: 6/? Words: 9157
****** Brooklyn Mix Tape ******
by Codydarkstalker
Summary
     Peter Parker has a hard life, between school, a demanding girlfriend
     and his duties as a super hero and part time Avenger. So it comes as
     no surprise to him when life suddenly gets a lot harder. Maybe a move
     is order.
***** Bitches by Mindless Self Indulgence *****
Chapter 1, Bitches By Mindless Self Indulgence
 
Peter took one last glance around the roof before grabbing his backpack with
his Spiderman suit and and clambering down the fire escape. The trouble with
his Aunt and Uncle’s house in Queens was that the buildings in the area were
all small, all little houses and corner stores, and he had to change a few
blocks away and go home on foot. He had tried to just sneak home in the suit
and change in his own room, but the neighborhood watch had gotten the idea he
was some sort of peeping tom, and there had been a less than flattering picture
of him on a neighbor’s roof next to a second story window.
 
The street was mercifully empty of cars and foot traffic, and Peter headed home
with the hood of his jacket down, able to enjoy the cool evening air for the
first time that night. He was a few houses down from his own when he caught a
strange sound coming up behind him, and his spidey sense flared. He pulled up
his hood and turned slightly to see who was tailing him.
 
In the dim light of the flickering streetlamps, it was hard to make out
details. But halfway down the block a large man was walking, heavy boots
thumping on the pavement, and something metallic shining on his back. As he got
closer Peter could make out a familiar voice, singing softly. Deadpool.
 
“♫  Bitches love me cause they know that I can rock, bitches love me cause they
know that I can rhyme , bitches love me cause they know that I can fuck!
Bitches love me cause they know that I’m on time, throughout the projects ♫”
 
As he passed under a street lamp Peter could see the man had wires running down
from under his mask and into one of the pouches at his belt and was bouncing to
the beat of a song as he walked. It would have been amusing, watching the large
man practically skipping down the road, if it weren’t for the sticky trail of
blood he was leaving in his wake, his large boots splattering it with each
step.
 
Peter held his breath and stayed as still as he could in the shadow of a tree,
hoping he would go unnoticed. He had never dealt with the other man, but he had
heard plenty about him. Certainly enough to know he was better off avoiding
him.
 
“Deadpool is a fucking menace. He breaks everything he gets within five feet
of!” Tony had snapped when he caught sight of an ad in the local paper for the
mercenary’s services. “I have never seen anyone destroy tech as fast as him.”
 
Clint had just laughed and said Deadpool was “Funny as shit but a little
deranged.”
 
Steve had frowned at the ad and put his head in his hands, muttering something
about a lack of personal boundaries and hygiene. After which he had retreated
to his room and refused to come out for several hours.
 
Overall it was a less than stellar recommendation for the man. Who had stopped
dead about ten feet from Peter.
 
“Hey isn’t it a bit late for kids to be runnin’ around?” The mask around
Deadpool’s mouth moved and Peter thought he was smiling. “All sorts of crazies
out at this time of night. Not very safe.”
 
Peter snorted and stood up straighter, trying to look a bit taller. “I’m not a
kid. I can walk around at night.” He mentally cursed himself for the way his
voice cracked.
 
Deadpool nodded. “Well maybe on a normal day I would disagree but turns out, I
already took care of the biggest baddie in town! Tonight, I’m a good guy, so
you don’t have to worry a bit about little ole me. Well maybe a bit, but not,
like, a lot, ya know?”
 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Peter replied flatly. He was so
close to home and all he could think about was falling into bed, and trying to
keep up with Deadpool wasn’t doing his overtired brain any favors.
 
Deadpool sighed and started digging around in the pouches strapped to him. A
number of things fell out; taco bell hot sauce packets, gum wrappers, an empty
box of Captain America themed band aids. After a few moments he made a
triumphant noise and held up a Stark phone, the same model all the Avengers had
to keep them in contact with SHIELD and each other. Deadpool had seen fit to
put his into a Hello Kitty case, with the cat’s face colored in to resemble his
own mask. He poked at the screen a few times and then flipped it to show Peter.
 
“See? You know this guy kid?” On the screen was a picture of a man, his face
was heavily bruised and his nose was bleeding heavily. In the corner of the
picture Peter could see a gun trained on his head.
 
“No! What the fuck!” Peter flinched back, and took another look up and down the
street. There was no way he was going to be able to change back into this
Spidey suit, so the best he could hope for was that the street would stay empty
if a fight broke out.
 
Deadpool laughed and tossed the phone in the air, flipping it before catching
it and depositing it back in his pouch. “Oh, well that’s great. I mean, not
surprising really, since he was just some random goon. You might be more
familiar with the man who hired him though. The name Osborn mean anything to
you? Scary guy? Rides some kinda hoverboard nonsense? Man, I wish I have a
hoverboard, and not one of those lame segway looking things. But a real one,
like Back to the Future, damn but that movie lied to us…”
 
Peter snapped his fingers in front of Deadpool’s face to bring his attention
back. “Why would Norman Osborn want anything to do with me?”
Deadpool chuckled. “Oh, well, it’s not exactly  you  he was interested in. In
fact, from what I can gather, and I gathered a lot, he knows you pretty well
already. But somehow he missed one  amazing- ly big detail.” He leaned in
close, wrapping a muscular arm around Peter’s shoulder so he could whisper
right into his ear. “He doesn’t know you’re Spiderman.”
***** No Sleep Till Brooklyn by The Beastie Boys *****
Chapter 2 No Sleep Till Brooklyn by The Beastie Boys
 
For a second time seemed to stand still. Peter could hear his heartbeat, loud,
and Deadpool breathing against his ear even louder, and he could smell the
other man. A strange mix of copper, smoke and sweat. Then all at once it hit
him, Deadpool knew who he was. Peter cursed and yanked himself backwards,
rolling into a somersault and springing back.  
 
Deadpool laughed and fell back into a wider stance, bringing his arms up to
block himself in case Peter made a move to attack. But he didn’t reach for a
gun or a sword, just held himself low and steady. “Hey now baby! No need to be
pulling a move like that, I ain’t here to bust up your bug business. I already
told you, I’m the hero in this one!” He cocked his head and seemed to take a
long look at Peter, who was crouched down, ready to spring away if Deadpool
moved to shoot, or forward if the merc seemed to ready to run. When Spiderman
did it, in that tight spandex suit, he looked dangerous and almost feral. When
Peter Parker did it, with his hair still messy from his mask and his glasses
sliding down his nose, it was a bit comical.
 
Peter snorted. “Yeah sure, you’re a good guy. That’s why you’re stalking me.”
 
Deadpool nodded and pulled himself back upright, fussing with his pouches
again. “Exactly! I’m stalking you  because  I’m the good guy right now. I mean,
not to say I’ve never stalked you before, you know as Spidey, for less than
pure reasons, but oh god my love for your booty in that outfit is the purest
form of love, and wow now that I get a better look at you, I suddenly feel like
a creeper, what are you like fourteen? Ugh, I mean, I know, I know, beggars
can’t be choosers but damn, I like to keep it legal. Well, sex wise at least,
ya know?”
 
Peter cut him off, fear being overwritten by frustration. “Deadpool! What are
you talking about?”
 
Deadpool stuck his hand into another pouch and then pulled out a slim piece of
plastic. He held it up in triumph and then tossed it at Peter, who caught it
out of the air. It was a SHIELD card, glossy under the streetlight, with the
eagle logo embossed on it and Deadpool’s legal name of Wade W. Wilson on the
back. On the bottom corner in red were the words “valid through-” and then two
dates, the first from the monday before and then last giving two days until
expiration.
 
“I didn’t know SHIELD ID cards expired.” Peter handed the card back.
 
Deadpool shrugged. “I don’t really work for SHIELD all that much, so they just
give me one of those each time I get a job. Not that it matters much anymore,
my Avengers membership card is totally in the mail. Tony Stark told me so.”
 
Peter raised an eyebrow. That was...unlikely. “When did he tell you that?”
 
Deadpool laughed. “Oh, about six months or so ago? I did some work for him,
stealing back some dark company secrets or something, whatever. It’s totally
just lost in the mail. That or it’s an immigration thing. Like, maybe I need a
green card before my Avengers card? I’m Canadian ya know. I should ask
Wolverine, he’s Canadian too you know. I feel like no one remembers that about
us. Maybe because we don’t say “eh?” that much? But, come on, how Canadian
should we be? I could sew a maple leaf on my suit and dip myself in syrup but I
think I would attract ants.”
 
Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay, so, let me try and get this straight.”
He paused as Deadpool snickered and muttered something about the Kinsey scale.
“You,” he pointed at Deadpool “Are on some mission, from SHIELD.”
 
“From Nick Fury himself.”
 
“A mission to...kill some guy sent by Osborn?”
 
Deadpool waggled his hand from side to side. “More like a mission to make sure
that some random goon didn’t un-alive you. Killing him was just the easiest way
to be sure. Dead guys can’t share intel ya know. Usually.”
 
Peter bit his lip and considered his next point for a moment. “So, that means
SHIELD, and the Avengers, know who I am now. I mean, I never told them my
identity but if you’re here they must have figured it out.”
 
Deadpool shook his head. “No, not exactly. I mean, they told me to save
Spiderman.  So, I did. You just happen to be Spiderman, and I just so happen to
have been tracking a guy tracking you, so ya know, you can see how that all
works.” He paused. “I do think they were hoping I would spill the metaphorical
beans if I did find out who the amazing arachno-boy was though.”
 
Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. This was clearly a nightmare.
Any moment now and he would wake up to Aunt May  standing over his bed telling
him she had made wheatcakes for breakfast. He closed his eyes and pinched
himself, and then slowly opened them. No dice, Deadpool was still in front of
him, playing with his phone.
 
“Deadpool, listen, you  can’t  tell Fury who I am, okay? I have friends, I have
family! I know that might not mean much to you or even him, but I can’t let
this information get out. It would put way too many people in danger.” He
winced at the whine in his voice, but he was desperate. It was bad enough to
know Green Goblin had gotten so close to finding him out, if SHIELD and the
Avengers knew who he was, life would only get more difficult. Not for the first
time he imagined just running away. Maybe to a cabin upstate.
 
Deadpool held a up a finger to silence Peter before he could continue as he
pushed a button on his phone and began speaking to the person on the other end
of the line.
 
“Hey, bro, it’s Deadpool.”
 
“Yeah, I need a favor.” He held the phone away from his ear, and Peter could
make out the faint sounds of someone cursing.
 
“Now come on, that was one time, and this is different. I know, I know, I am a
huge jerk, whatever. Just send me a car okay? I’m gonna text you the address.
I’m in the middle of fucking Queens so it might take a bit. Okay? Okay. Buh
bye!”
 
Deadpool swiped his thumb across the screen, ending the call. He pressed a few
buttons and then stashed the device back in a pouch before turning back to
Peter. “You need to get a bag together, we are going on a little trip.”
 
Peter took a step back and shook his head. “I’m not just gonna let you hand me
over to SHIELD you know.”
 
Deadpool shook his head. “Nope, not SHIELD, don’t worry. No helicarrier for
you, just an Ooper car to Bed-Stuy.”
 
Peter blinked. “There’s no SHIELD base in Brooklyn. And the Avengers
headquarters are in manhattan.” He spoke slowly, as if he was sure Deadpool was
somehow mistaken about which land mass they were on.
 
“Yeah, isn’t that kinda the point? Now come on!” he started walking towards the
Parker house, pushing Peter in front of him. “We gotta hurry, if we miss the
car we’re gonna have to take public transit and I don’t do buses baby boy.”
 
They managed to climb the side of the house without getting caught or waking
Aunt May, which Peter thanked whatever non Asgardian Gods were listening for.
Standing in Peter’s bedroom Deadpool looked even larger than he had on the
street, covered in blood and wholly out of place. He looked around while Peter
dumped out his backpack and started throwing things into it, a laptop and
charger, a spare Spidey suit, civilian clothes.
 
“Wow, this room is very...highschool.” Deadpool shifted around, obviously
uncomfortable in the space. There were family photos on the wall, and a shelf
of school science fair trophies, and a pile of old videogames.
 
“Well, I am in highschool,” Peter snapped. “So, forgive me for that.” He
motioned to the bed. “Sit, stay, I need to get a few things from downstairs.”
 
He watched the mercenary gingerly lower himself onto the clean, if somewhat
threadbare, duvet and then sighed. It was all a bit surreal for him. He needed
coffee, and maybe a nap, or a new life.  He rushed downstairs and grabbed his
jacket off of the rack by the door and then took a moment to write a note to
Aunt May, leaving it on the kitchen table. He wasn’t sure where he was going or
why, so he just said he was going to stay with Harry for a bit because they had
a big school project together. He had used the excuse before and knew it would
buy him at least a few days before she became suspicious. He felt guilty for a
second, but then pushed the feeling down. He couldn’t tell her the truth even
if he wanted to, he really didn’t know where he was going. Or at least, he
didn’t know any particulars besides somewhere in Brooklyn.
 
When he got back to his room Deadpool had made himself comfortable, stretched
out on the bed, an earbud in one ear. He was humming to himself quietly.
 
“♫   My job ain't a job, It's a damn good time. City to city I'm running my
rhymes. On location Touring around the nation  ♫”   He looked up when Peter
walked in and then sat up on the bed, swingin his legs over to stand up. “All
done?”
 
Peter nodded and then raised an eyebrow at the headphones, which were still
playing, tinny music semi audible. “Thematically appropriate huh?”
 
Deadpool chuckled and clicked a button on the side of the cord, turning the
music off. “Hey, it’s a classic.”
 
They climbed out of the window and within five minutes the car was there. Peter
stowed his bag in the trunk as Deadpool gave the man the address, somewhat
surprised at how calm the driver was about picking up a masked man and a kid so
late at night.
 
Deadpool seemed to notice his confusion. “I use this car service a lot,” he
supplied as they climbed in the back seat. “I even get a frequent riders
discount!”
 
Peter just nodded and settled back into the seat, staring out the window as the
headed down the road.
***** Ivory Bill by Shanon Wurst *****
Chapter 3 Ivory Bill by Shannon Wurst
Peter was surprised by how normal looking the building they pulled up to was.
It was a typical brownstone, on a typical residential street. There were a few
cars parked on the street, a bike chained to a tree. Nothing out of place at
all. It didn’t look much like a secret SHIELD office, which he supposed was the
point.
When they got out of the car Deadpool pulled his phone out and motioned for
Peter to wait while he pushed a few buttons. A minute later and a light came on
in the windows on the top floor. A minute after that and the door to the
building swung open, revealing a tall, harried looking blond man. One that
Peter recognized.
“Wade, you seriously are the biggest pain the ass, ya know that?” Clint
grimaced and moved to hold the door open, ushering the other men inside. “You
and your bullshit are above my pay grade. I should be calling Fury right now.
Or Coulson maybe, I don’t know, but somebody.”
Wade pulled his mask up over his mouth and nose and flashed a wide grin. He
tucked his phone away and clapped a huge hand on Peter’s back and pushed him
forward. “Aw, come on bird boy, I had to come to you. You know you’re my fave
Avenger.” He reached out and ruffled the man’s hair, tousling the blond locks.
Peter hesitated for a moment, expecting Hawkeye to hit Deadpool, but to his
surprise Clint just flushed and reached up to fix his hair, brushing the merc’s
hands away lightly. It was funny to see the man acting so...normally. On the
occasion they had worked together on a mission with the Avengers Hawkeye had
seemed like a machine, flawlessly moving through the city, taking down enemy
after enemy with perfect shots. He didn’t even have any super powers, but Peter
felt like the man had put him to shame with his fighting abilities. He froze
when the blond’s attention turned towards him.
Clint narrowed his eyes and looked Peter up and down, taking in his scuffed
shoes and messy hair and suddenly Peter wished very much that he looked less
like, well, like a kid who needed a good night's sleep. Clint just shook his
head and headed up the stairs, waving a hand for them to follow him.
Peter turned his head to look at Deadpool. “Is this Hawkeye’s house? For real?”
Clint glanced back before Wade could answer. “Hey, no talking behind my back
when I don’t have my ears in,” he snapped.
Peter glanced towards Wade with wide, confused, eyes.
Wade shook his head and waited until the had reached the top floor, when Clint
unlocked the door and ushered them into a huge studio apartment. Once the door
was closed and locked he turned and motioned to his own ears (or the place they
were hidden under the mask), so Clint could answer.
“I’m deaf. Well, mostly deaf. I can read lips just fine though, and I have
hearing aids, good ones, I just don’t always keep them in. Especially when I’m
sleeping.” At that he turned and shot Deadpool a nasty look.
Wade just shrugged and grinned. “Sorry to take away from your beauty sleep but
I was kinda out of my depth here.”
Clint nodded and moved into the kitchen, pressing a button on the side of the
coffee maker and motioning for them to take a seat at the bar top counter. He
pulled down three mugs and, once the pot was full, filled them, putting out
milk and sugar. He didn’t say another word until he had drained the mug once
and refilled it. This one he set down and fixed with some milk and sugar before
fixing his gaze on the men in front of him.
“Okay, so please, someone, explain to me why I am awake at this ungodly hour.
The explanation had better be good, and since I haven’t gotten the Avengers
Assemble bulletin yet, I’m really struggling to think of what it could be.” He
took a sip of his coffee and looked at Deadpool pointedly.
Wade shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee and shuddering before adding about
six spoonfuls of sugar. “Well, the thing is, it’s a secret.”
Clint waited for a moment, clearly expecting more to be said. “A secret?” He
asked, raising an eyebrow.
“A secret.”
“I see.”
“Do you, because I’m not sure I do. I kinda forgot what’s going on.” Wade
grinned and tossed back the coffee, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Pete took the opportunity to sneak a look at the exposed skin of Deadpool’s
face. He had seen pics of the man without his mask, normally because it had
been destroyed in a fight. But this was different, up close he could see his
skin looked tight and shiny in spots like a bad burn. He had to force himself
to look away and focus on his coffee.
Clint dropped his head and groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Wade if
you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next thirty second I am throwing you
and your little friend out on the street, I swear to god I will do it.”
Wade put his hands up hurriedly. “No man, don’t do that! The thing is…” He took
a deep breath.
“ThisisPeterandhemightseemlikeastrangerbutheisn’t,youtotallyknowhimyoujustdon’tknowthatyouknowhimbecausehenormallywearsthismaskthing,youknowhetotallycopiedmysuitdesign,butyeahthisisactuallySpidermanandItotallysavedhimandIkindadon’thaveasafehousethat’sactuallysaferightnowbecausetheplaceIwasrentingisinabadpartoftownandifIleavehimtherehe’sgonnagetshotwithorwithoutthehelpofNormanOsbornsoIwasthinkinghecouldcrashherewithyouwhileItrackdownOsborn’sguysandmakesureknowoneletsouthissecretidentityandadressandsocialsecurityorsomeshitandIsaidIwouldn’ttellbutyou’retheonlycoolAvengersoIfiguredthiswasbetterthandragginghimallthewayupstatetotheXmenorsomething.”
Clint blinked slowly. “Wait, did you just say SPIDERMAN??” His voice raised
slightly as he turned and looked at Peter.
Peter just smiled wanly and waved. “Hi Hawkeye.”
“Oh, fuck.” Clint turned and started rifling through a cabinet, turning back
with a bottle of something. He unscrewed the cap and poured a liberal amount
into his half drunk coffee, and then did the same for Wade. When Peter held out
his own cup he hesitated for a moment, clearly wanting to ask if Peter was even
legal, before deciding against it and just pouring the drink. “This is what I
get for letting you know where I live. I should have moved after the last time
you showed up.”
Wade whined, mouth full of whiskey and coffee. He moved his hands quickly,
signing something that made Clint snort and roll his eyes.
“Okay, okay, fine. I guess I can play babysitter.” He turned to look at Peter.
“You okay with staying here for a few days?”
Peter shrugged, sipping gingerly at the boozy coffee. He didn’t really drink,
but the whiskey had seemed like a good idea in the light of the night’s events.
It burned his throat a bit, but after a few swallows he could feel the warmth
spreading in his stomach, untying the knots of stress. “Yeah, as long as it’s
not a huge bother for you. I would have gone right to the Avengers, but I
really don’t want my identity getting out, at least not yet. I have family here
in the city.”
 
Clint nodded slowly. “Yeah, I get that, it can be tough with everyone knowing
everything about you. On the one hand, no worrying about some secret you have
to keep from everyone. On the other hand, shit like this.” He gestured to Wade,
who had finished his coffee and was now pouring a liberal amount of whiskey
into his empty mug.
Peter laughed, and something in Clint’s face shifted, softening a bit. He
smiled and put down his drink, motioning for Peter to follow him into the
large, open living room. The walls were painted a muted shade of light purple,
and there was a large, soft looking black couch with a purple throw blanket
over the arm. Across from it was a wall mounted TV and a metal shelf of
different electronics, a tangle of wires spilling down the back.
“The couch folds out, but I swear it’s more comfortable like this. I’ll go and
grab some more pillows and stuff. Feel free to turn on the TV if you can figure
it out. Stark got me one of those fancy universal remotes but the thing might
as well be some magic Asgardian tech to me.” Clint gestured vaguely to the
coffee table, where a little metal pad with a screen sat, and then headed
upstairs.
Peter kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the couch, grabbing the remote
device. It was a Stark product, unsurprisingly, and fairly easy to use if you
were familiar with any of the company’s other devices. He pressed a few buttons
and set the TV to a music station, the sound low and the screen filled with
shifting abstract colors.
“My Name is Ivory Bill, You ain't seen me in a long time til You spotted me up
in the tall, tall trees♫ ” The singer had a soft, sweet voice, and the guitar
strumming was low enough to almost disappear.
Peter took another sip of his coffee before putting it down and settling back
on the couch. It was soft, and the blanket was warm. He took a slow deep
breath, his eyes suddenly very heavy. He didn’t even hear Clint come back down
the stairs, but he felt the weight of a heavier blanket settle over him, and he
heard the murmur of voices from the kitchen, low and soothing. For a moment he
wondered if he should rouse himself, but the couch was too comfortable, the
voice from the TV too gentle. He fell asleep before the song ended.
***** Soak Up the Sun by Sheryl Crow *****
Chapter 4 Soak Up the Sun by Sheryl Crow
Peter woke up to sunlight streaming into the windows, a horrible screeching
sound coming from behind him, and the smell of pancakes and coffee. It took him
a moment to remember where he was, stretched out on a couch in Hawkeye’s
apartment in Brooklyn, and why, Osborn had sent someone to kill him and nearly
discovered his secret identity.
He sat up and swung his legs down and looked around. From his spot on the couch
he could see Clint, sitting at the bar, an entire pot of coffee in front of
him. He was staring straight ahead, seemingly not noticing Peter at all. As
Peter walked into the kitchen area, he could see what was holding the man’s
attention. Deadpool was in the kitchen, at the stove, in an apron. He had
stripped out of his Deadpool uniform and was wearing nothing but a frilly
purple apron, a pair of black boxer briefs, and his mask. He was also making
what seemed like enough pancakes to feed an army of Hulks. Deadpool was also,
unsurprisingly, the source of the screeching noise.
“♫ Every time I turn around I'm looking up, you're looking down. Maybe
something's wrong with you that makes you act the way you do. Maybe I am crazy
too ♫ ”
Peter watched as the muscular man expertly flipped a perfect pancake out of the
pan and onto a stack on a nearby plate. He continued to sing as he poured more
batter into the pan, moving the bowl to form a pattern as he poured. Peter
moved up and tapped Clint on the shoulder.
“What’s going on?”
Clint turned to look at him and then paused for a moment before reaching up to
fidget with two small devices in his ears. Once he was done he grimaced
dramatically.
“Sorry, what was that? I had my ears turned off. Wade makes great pancakes but
he insists on singing when he cooks, and this song isn’t really in his
register.” He flinched dramatically as Deadpool a particularly screechy high
note.
Peter laughed and glanced at the coffee pot. “I was just asking what was going
on. Hey, any chance I could get some of that coffee?”
“Here’s a mug baby boy!” Deadpool reached into a cabinet and pulledcout a white
mug with a purple “H” stamped on it and slid it down the bar before turning
back to his pancakes.
Peter looked at the mug thoughtfully. “Hey, is that the Hawkeye logo on your
mug?”
Clint smiled sheepishly and poured some of his coffee into the cup. “Maybe. I’m
not sure anyone else buys my merchandise.”
“Hey!” Deadpool interrupted. “I know for a fact Peter Quill is a total fanboy
for you.”
“Peter Quill?” Peter raised an eyebrow at Clint, who was blushing.
“Starlord.”
“Starlord is a fan of yours...and buys your merchandise?” Peter took a long sip
of the coffee. Coffee was good. Coffee was great. “Isn’t that a bit weird.”
Clint shrugged and pointed at Deadpool. “Not as weird as Wade having Spidey
underwear.”
“What??”
Deadpool turned and brandished a spatula at them. “Hey! You learned that in a
private moment!”
Clint turned to Peter, hands in the air. “That private moment involved Wade
being chopped into no less than four pieces. I cut the suit to help stick him
back together.”
“And to sneak a peek,” muttered Wade, attention moving back to his pancakes.
“Anyways, no time for a fun trip down memory lane right now, breakfast is
ready!” He plopped three plates piled high with pancakes on the table. On the
top of each stack of perfect, round pancakes was a special one. One was a
letter “H”, one was a “P” and one was a “D”.
“Shouldn’t that be a ‘W’ though?” Clint asked as he grabbed for the syrup.
Deadpool shrugged and folded the pancake, and the three beneath it, into a taco
shape, filling them with butter and syrup, and then stuffed the mess into his
mouth all in one bite. It was a bit like watching a shark feed, only messier.
Peter scootched down the bar, out of range of flying pancake viscera. The
pancakes were shockingly good, almost as good as the wheatcakes his Aunt would
make him from time to time. Clint alternated bites of pancake with gulps of
coffee, looking like he hadn’t eaten in days.
“Hey, how come you aren’t in the Avengers tower, or the mansion, or whatever?
Doesn’t Stark give all Avengers free room an’ board? Or did you not pay your
dues or something?” Peter asked around a mouth full of pancake.
Clint stared hard his plate for a moment. “Living in the tower is...trying at
times.”
“Because Iron Man is having hot gay sex with Captain America?” Deadpool grinned
and licked a glob of syrup off his hand.
Clint shook his head. “No, because I’m pretty sure I saw Stark having hot gay
sex with a robot version of his butler.” He shuddered visibly. “It was a very
inappropriate use of a Life Model Decoy. After that I figured Brooklyn was a
nicer option.”
Wade snickered around a mouth full of food. “I gotta hand it to Stark, that’s
sort of brilliant. I mean, I already knew LMDs were cool. You can put a human
brain in one, they can copy almost any super human ability, you can repair any
damage. Putting JARVIS in one is a good idea. I wonder if it’s like having sex
with Data from Star Trek? Think he’s ‘fully functional’?” He waggled his
eyebrows lewdly, which was, for some reason, detectable even under the mask.
Peter put down his fork, put off his food for the moment. “First, that is
disgusting, even for Tony Stark. Second, Deadpool, why do you know so much
about Life Model Decoys? I didn’t think anyone outside of SHIELD contracts used
them?”
Deadpool smiled widely. “Well I should be at least sorta familiar, my kid is
being raised by one.” He popped a whole pancake into his mouth and followed it
by spraying some syrup into his mouth, straight from the bottle.
Clint grabbed the bottle away. “Really? Gross.”
Peter was about to ask a follow up question, about the LMDs, about the kid
Deadpool apparently had, but he was cut off by the sound of the door slamming
open and bouncing off the wall.
“Clint! I got you a cell phone for a reason, you need to keep the ringer on! Or
at least keep it on vibrate in your pocket if you’re not going to have your
hearing aids in! Ugh!! You probably can’t even hear me yelling right now…” A
pretty young woman in a purple dress stormed into the room, cellphone in hand.
“Hey Kate! I can hear you just fine.” Clint waved and popped another bite of
pancake into his mouth.
The woman, Kate, slumped and ran a hand through her her long dark hair. “Clint,
are you kidding me, really? I called you like three times this morning.”
Clint shrugged and gestured to Peter and Wade. “As you can see, I have company,
it’s been a busy morning.”
“Want some pancakes Hawkgirl?” Deadpool pushed a few onto an extra plate and
shoved them towards her.
She hesitated a moment, and then dropped her purse on the ground and grabbed a
seat. “Fine, but no calling me Hawkgirl.”
After breakfast Peter volunteered to do the dishes, and Kate moved into the
kitchen with him to help. They stood side by side at the sink for a while, him
washing, her drying and stacking the clean things in a dish rack. It was
pleasant, almost normal, the lemony smell of dish soap, the sun coming through
the windows.
“So, you’re the other Hawkeye huh?” Peter glanced sideways, getting a good look
at her. She’s tall, and pretty, and her sleeveless dress shows off the muscles
in her arms.
Kate laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m the other Hawkeye. It’s a pain in the neck
ya know, having the same code name like that. SHIELD hates it, our handlers are
constantly getting the wrong paperwork, but neither one of us wants to change.”
Peter held up a clean mug with an ‘H’ on the front. “Too much branded swag
huh?”
Kate nodded solemnly. “Clint and I are very attached to the gimmick.” She
gestured down at her dress. “And the color scheme of course.”
Peter laughed. “I may have noticed that.”
“So…” Kate turned and stared at him. “Why are you sleeping on my sort of
mentor’s couch? Not to be nosy, but I know Clint and I know the kinda trouble
he gets into. I also know Wade and the kind of trouble he gets into, and if
anything that’s worse.”
Peter looked away. “Wade is...doing me a favor, I guess you could say Clint is
too.” He shot a glance over his shoulder, Wade and Clint had moved out to the
fire escape to drink their coffee and chat in privacy. “Actually, how well do
you know Wade anyways?”
Kate pulled a face. “I know enough,” she replied. “Or, I know as much as I
really want to I guess. Wade is...complicated. I know he has a crap reputation,
but he’s more chaotic neutral than bad, and he can be fun to work with if you
keep a close enough on eye him to keep him from blowing everything up, but not
too close to be put off by his tendency towards drag.”
“Huh.”
Kate laughed and finished drying the last mug before tossing the damp rag down.
“Hey, in this line of work, no one is simple.” She looked at him for a long
moment. “I have a feeling you know something about that.” She looked down at
her watch, a flashy gold thing with little diamonds around the face. “Listen, I
have to go, people to see, things to shoot, that sort of thing. Tell Clint I
said bye okay?”
Pete nodded. “Oh, yeah, sure. Bye Kate.”
She smiled over her shoulder as she swung the door open. “Bye bye Spiderman.”
The door closed behind her.
Peter glared at the door. Damn Hawkeye. Damn other Hawkeye. Damn secret
identity not being at all secret anymore. He turned when he heard a noise
behind him, and found Clint and Wade leaning against the bar top and laughing.
Wade had changed back into his normal suit at some point, but the bottom of his
mask was rolled up to show his grin.
“Aw, Hawkgirl’s totally got your number huh?” Wade snickered.
Peter blushed. “How did she even guess? My best friends don’t know, my family
doesn’t know!”
Clint rolled his eyes. “Kate is smart, and SHIELD trained. The whole super spy
thing kinda helps when it comes to figuring out stuff like this.”
Peter’s shoulder sumped. “I’m guessing she won’t out me to everyone right?”
Clint shook his head. “Nah, she’s a wise ass from time to time but she wouldn’t
do that.”
“Anyways, hate to eat and run boys but I have business to attend to. Most of
that business being tracking down Osborn goons and hounding Fury for overtime
pay.” Wade leaned over and planted a kiss on Clint’s cheek, drawing an
indignant noise from the blond, and then pulled his mask down. He ruffled
Peter’s hair as he passed by him. “Be good baby boy! Miss you!”
Peter waited for the door to close behind the other man before turning to look
at Clint, eyebrows raised.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Wade’s like that with everyone,” he snapped,
idly rubbing at the spot on his cheek where he had been kissed. “Anyways, we
have a whole day ahead of us, any idea what you wanna do?”
Peter shrugged. “Normally the whole Spiderman things keeps me pretty busy. As
Peter I have a part time job and friends and stuff, but I kind of want to avoid
them right now just in case any more of Osborn’s lackeys track me down.”
Clint nodded and glanced back towards the living room. “Well...do you like Dog
Cops?”
Peter hesitated for a moment. “You watch Dog Cops?”
Clint laughed and motioned for Peter to follow him into the living room, where
he sprawled out on the couch, leaving a space for Peter next to him. “Hey man,
finding television shows all the Avengers will agree on is not easy. Thor and
Hulk both like dogs, me and Tony like trashy reality shows, and Cap like cop
shows. It’s kind of the perfect form of entertainment. It’s certainly better
than Coulson and his thing with Supernanny.”
“Please tell me Coulson watches that show so he can get techniques to deal with
you guys,” Peter replied
Clint blushed and elbowed him. “Hey, being a super hero handler isn’t easy.”
***** Only Anarchists Are Pretty by The World Inferno Friendship Society *****
Chapter 5 Only Anarchists are pretty by The World Inferno Friendship Society
 
It took Clint a moment to get the TV on, and a few more to get the cable box to
cooperate, but once the show started (Clint had about a dozen episodes stored
on his DVR), they fell into companionable silence. After the second episode
they were both laughing, shouting at the screen in tense moments, making cooing
sounds over the new trainee puppies.
 
It was, to Peter’s surprise, that same feeling of normal that he had when he
was washing dishes with Kate. There was no reason to worry about slipping up
and saying something about his life as Spiderman, no constant worry about some
villain coming to knock down a wall, for the first time in a long time he was
able to relax. Even the times Peter had been talked into hanging around the
tower after a mission he hadn’t been able to truly relax. He had been the only
one to keep his mask on, and he had to avoid saying anything to reveal his
secret identity. Now that Clint knew, he could say what he wanted.
 
And Clint was easy to talk to. He didn’t act like Peter was a little kid the
way some of the other Avengers did, didn’t talk down to him, and he had normal
interests, things like bad television, bad horror movies and good music. They
watched half a season before getting bored and ordering a pizza for lunch. They
brought it up to the roof to eat, a nice perk of clint owning the building was
that he had full use of the roof when he needed. From there they had a good
view of the neighborhood, streets busy and noisy, full of people going about
their day. Peter normally did his rooftop patrol at night, so it was nice to be
able to get the view in daylight for a change.
 
They’re halfway through the second pizza when Clint’s phone goes off.
 
“ ♫ ‘Cause Only Anarchists Are, Only Anarchists Are, Only Anarchists Are Pretty
♫  ”
 
Clint pulls a face, blushing slightly, and slides his thumb across the screen,
tapping the speaker button.
 
“Hey Wade, see you changed your ringtone on my phone again.”
 
“Aw, come on birdboy, they’re from Brooklyn!”
 
Clint sighed. “Not the point Deadpool. Anyways, what do you want?”
 
“Well, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
 
Clint looked at Peter.
 
“Good news please,” Peter answered.
 
“Well the good news is it doesn’t seem like anyone got your super secret info
to Osborn! Bad news is, I think he hired even more goons after the ones I found
went missing. I guess he took it as a sign they were on the right trail. So now
there’s a bunch of scary thug types crawling around Queens.”
 
Peter sighed and dropped the slice of pizza he was holding back into the box,
appetite gone. “So, I guess going home isn’t an option right now?”
 
Clint smiled ruefully. “At least I have a comfy couch?”
 
Wade made a loud whooping noise. “Aw yeah! Brotastic slumber party! I will
bring tacos and beer!”
 
The phone cut out before Clint could say anything. Peter turned and looked at
the older man. “Is he always like this?”
 
Clint shrugged and stood up, gathering the pizza boxes up. “Hey, if we’re
lucky, he’ll bring videogames too. I am really good at videogames”
 
Peter just laughed.
 
Clint gave him an exaggerated scowl. “What, it’s true. You can even ask Kate.
Hawkeyes are good at Mario Kart, we have excellent reflexes!”
 
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Hawkeyes, is that how you refer to you guys? Like,
collectively?”
 
“Hey! You have no room to talk, there’s HOW many spider heroes now?” Clint
laughed.
 
“Most of them don’t even have spider powers! I have no idea how this even
happened! I mean, some of them don’t have spider themed costumes either. I have
no way to control this! I feel like I’m losing my personal brand!” Peter titled
his head back and put the back of his hand to his forehead.
 
“Yeah there’s only a handful of bird heroes and we all get along, ya know?”
Clint replied, grabbing an errant pizza crust and stuffing it in his mouth.
 
Peter gaped at him. “That was my pizza crust you scavanger! You’re mor elike a
pigeon than a hawk.” He thought for a moment. “Actually, ntohing about the whol
hawk thing makes sense anyways. You don’t fly or have a hawk symbol on your
outfit or anything. Besides, Eagleeye would sound better.”
 
Clint stuck his tongue out. “Caw caw motherfucker.”
***** Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition by Kay Kyser *****
Deadpool did, in fact, bring Mariokart. He showed up an hour later with a
seemingly bottomless duffel bag, from which he pulled an old Nintendo 64 and a
pack of Mexican Coca Cola in glass bottles.
 
“It’s waaaaay better than the normal stuff,” He assured Peter, handing the soda
over and busying himself with setting up the game system.  
 
Peter picked up one of the glass bottles and inspected the label for a moment.
 
Clint snatched it out of his hand and twisted the cap off with a soft hiss and
took a long drink. “It really is better,” he said, turning his attention to the
pile of cartridges Deadpool had dumped on the coffee table. “Mario Kart, Super
Smash Bros., Mario Party, Pokemon Snap, Pokemon Stadium…”
 
Deadpool made a triumphant noise as he jabbed in a final cord into a slot,
punching his fists into the air as the TV glowed with the Goldeneye 007 logo
screen.
 
“Oh god this game is the best!” Clint hopped over the back of the couch and
grabbed a controller, making sure he got the clear purple plastic one. “I am
really good at shooting games.”
“OMG! Me too!” Deadpool squealed and grabbed his own controller, taking a seat
next to Clint and putting his boots up on the table. “I used to pay this game
all the time. It helped inspire my love of guns.”
 
Peter watched, bemused, as they started the game. They seemed totally
 engrossed in the game, eyes glued to the screen as they navigated the dark
grey halls in the game. The game looked ancient, all the character models were
crudely colored polygons, but the two men were taking it as seriously as any
SHIELD mission, crowing in victory at every shot they made.
 
“So, this game is...fun?” Peter asked, sitting down on the arm of the sofa and
taking a small sip of one of the bottles of Coke. It was good, sweet, and
somehow just slightly better than a normal one.
 
Clint turned to Peter, mouth open in astonishment. “You’ve never played
Goldeneye?” He elbowed Deadpool in the side. “He’s never played Goldeneye!”
 
Deadpool shook his head sadly. “Oh baby boy, you have no idea what you’re
missing. This game is amazing. It is a game that defines a generation!”
 
Peter shrugged. “Well, not my generation I guess. I mainly play computer games
anyways.”
 
Clint and Wade shared a look and then nodded in unison.
 
“Well then we must teach you young one,” Clint said sagely, pulling Peter off
the the arm of the chair and in between himself and Deadpool.
 
“Here, take this,” Wade said, shoving a controller into his hands. “The aim is
to shoot your enemies, while also not getting yourself shot.”
 
“Seems pretty simple,” Peter commented, testing a few of the buttons.
 
“I mean, you say that…” Deadpool muttered under his breath, refocusing on the
game.
 
The game was fun, even if it was old. After a few rounds of gunfighting they
switched over to Mario Kart, which Peter was much more familiar for. Clint,
true to his word, was good at every game they played, holding his own against
the clearly more experienced Deadpool who favored a near perfect memory of
every shortcut on every course over plain skill. They played for a few hours,
until the sun was gone and they had run out of soda and chips.
 
Peter sat back, smiling widely after his first win of the evening and looked at
the two men. Clint and Wade had come in a close second and third, and were busy
arguing over the fairness of the game’s AI. It was nice, having some time off.
But he couldn’t help but stare out the window with a strange sense of longing.
Going on patrol as Spiderman was an important part of his life, skipping it
made him feel strange and antsy.  
 
“Hey, Petey, you alright?” Clint poked him on the shoulder gently. “You looked
about a million miles away.”
 
“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry.” Peter answered quickly. “It’s nothing. I was just
thinking how weird it feels not going on patrol is all.”
 
“Oh man, I haven’t done the whole beat cop thing in ages,” Clint said, tapping
his chin thoughtfully. “Avengers protocol doesn’t really include doing sweeps
of the neighborhood.”
 
Clint and Wade shared a look, a smile slowly spreading across Clint’s face.
 
“You thinking what I’m thinkin’ bird boy?” Deadpool asked, bouncing slightly in
his seat.
 
“We go out and have some fun?” Clint responded, already up and out of his seat.
“Oh yeah, lemme get a costume on!” He dashed down the hall towards his bedroom,
already pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it behind him.
 
“This is gonna be fun baby boy!” Deadpool squealed, jumping up. “I get to go on
patrol with the Avengers! Kind of!”
 
Pete hesitated a moment and then smiled, nodding his affirmation. “Let me get
my suit on.” He disappeared into the bathroom with his bag and when he emerged
Hawkeye was sitting on the couch, fiddling with his bow.
 
“I thought you were going to put on a costume?” Peter asked, pulling on his own
mask.
 
Clint stuck his tongue out. “I  am  in a costume! This is it!” He gestured down
to his body. He was wearing a black tee shirt with a purple arrow symbol on it
and black cargo pants and heavy boots. “See?”
 
Peter titled his head and squinted. “Not really.” he pointed at Clint’s face.
“I mean, you aren’t even wearing a mask!”
 
Clint patted a few of his pockets and then made a triumphant noise, pulling out
a pair of black wrap around sunglasses and sliding them on. “There we go,
perfect!”
 
Peter just shook his head and made a bee line for the window over the fire
escape.
Outside, the air had begun to cool, the sun gone. The city was still alive and
awake through, the streets filled with cars and cabs and trucks. They crawled
out the fire escape and up onto the roof, picking their way along the edge of
the building and then jumping to the escape of the next building over. Peter
hopped across easily, sticking to the brick wall to make room for Deadpool, who
managed the jump with a quick flip. Clint had to give himself a running start,
but caught ahold of the railing easily enough, mutter about meta humans under
his breath as he hauled himself over and up.
 
It was quiet for the first hour or so. They climbed buildings and at one point
carefully made their way across a subway overpass. Deadpool managed to fall off
a roof at one point, but he cracked his leg back into shape after a minute and
they carried on.
 
It was nice, moving across the city wit company. Sure Peter had to slow down
now and then or change his route to accommodate two people who wouldn’t climb
up a wall with no hand holds, but it was nice. He was used to patrols being a
rather lonely business, something he did by himself.  
 
He was yanked from his thoughts by a sudden sound coming from the street below
them. A woman crying and a man yelling loudly. He stiffened and listened for a
moment, and then he heard it, the almost silent little *click* of a gun safety
being turned off. His whole body shivered, his spidey sense kicking into high
gear. He tapped Clint and Deadpool, both seemingly unaware of the crime
happening thirty odd stories down, and then jerked his chin down at the
alleyway, waving for them to follow.
 
He took off crawling straight down the wall, keeping in the shadow of the fire
escape until he saw them. It was a man, tall, with a red baseball cap pulled
low over his eyes. His shoulders were hunched and he was wobbling on his feet,
holding his gun with both hands. It was a large handgun, and he had a finger on
the trigger, aimed at a woman in front of him. She was young, not much older
than Peter himself, and she was crying. Laying at her feet was a little
canister of pepper spray, the cap still on, and she was clutching her purse and
breathing hard.
 
Petter aimed his web shooter carefully at the gun, and just as he was about to
shoot it out of the man’s hands, he moved.
 
An arrow struck the ground, the alley filling with smoke as soon as it made
contact. Peter could just see through the artificial fog, and he saw Deadpool
drop down form above, a sickening crunch alerting him that he had likely broken
something in the jump.
 
“Hey now hey now, this isn’t a toy you know!” Deadpool reached out and put a
hand over the barrel of the gun. The man jerked back in surprise, eyes wide,
and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped right through Deadpool’s hand and
flew into the wall a few feet above the woman’s head.
 
She collapsed on the ground with a whimper, her hands covering her ears. Peter
cursed and swung down, crouching next to her.
 
“It's okay, we have you don't wor-” he was cut off by the sound of a scared
shout.
 
Deadpool had grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it until it made a sickening
snap, catching the falling gun as he dropped it.
 
“Mister, that was a bad idea.” Deadpool laughed and tossed the gun in the air.
“ ♫ praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition ♫”   he said in a sing song voice.
 
Clint dropped down and reached into his pockets, pulling out a number of zip
ties. “These make pretty good cuffs, here you go.” He tossed them to Deadpool,
who fumbled for a moment, dropping the gun in the process.
The man dove for the gun, grabbing it and managing to pull off a single shot.
It went wide, and Peter hissed in pain as it just grazed his arm, tearing a
hole in his suit and tearing into the skin underneath.
 
Clint cursed and went to notch an arrow, but before he could finish Deadpool
made his move. With a single graceful move he unsheathed his katana and buried
in the man's chest. He made a gasping, hollow, gurgle and raised his hands to
pull at the blade. Deadpool placed his foot on the man's chest and kicked,
pulling his sword free. He flicked the blood off and resheathed it on his back,
oddly silent as the man crumpled to the ground.

The woman let out a choked sob and then pulled away from Peter, running down
the alley. In the distance a siren began to wail.
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