Sadly, guys, I've got about 6 comments that said "No Spideypool" 

Sorry, it's just I want them to stay and I dunt want to let anyone down. 

;-;

Team Red? Perhaps? 

Question: 

Who's your favorite DC Ship? (If you have one) Mine - HELLA NO I DUNT GOT NONE

i dunt know if I can add Matt, probably not- 

*Ideas wack me in the face* 

SCREW IT IMA ADD HIM

=-=-=-=-=

"I would still be alive." 

Peter jerked up from the familiar voice with a scream. He was shivering, yet he was sweating at the same time. He tried to blink away the tears, but to no avail. He tried to breath in deeply, now only realizing the mercenary beside him. Staring wide-eyed at him, Peter slowly lowered himself down again, breathing slowly. 

"You okay, Baby Boy?" Wade asked softly next to him. 

"How long were you here?" Peter avoided the question. He did not want to tell the merc that he felt like he just got dumped in a dumpster and then pickled alive. Wade shrugged, 

"About four hours.... What? .... No. It was four.... Fine five. I was here five hours," Wade confirmed, rolling his eyes at what Peter suspected was the boxes. Peter shooed him away, 

"Go. I'm not the only who needs sleep," Peter said, noting on how the mercenary was snoozing. 

"'m fine, Petey," Wade assured, words slurring. Peter chuckled a small bit, 

"Yeah, not buying it, pal." Peter got out of his bed, (how he got there, he didn't want to know) and lifting the man easily to lay him on Peter's bed. Before he even hit the pillow, Wade was snoring. Peter chuckled lightly, covering the man lazily with the blankets. 

Feeling that he should probably eat, Peter walked to the kitchen. 

When he entered the room, now noticing that everyone was there, Peter had a sudden move swing. 

"How are you feeling, Peter?" Steve asked, noticing the boy walking in. Peter tsked. 

"I'm fine," he snapped, surprising everyone in the room, especially himself. Feeling heat rush to his head, Peter excused himself:

"I-I'll be on the roof," Peter shouted, mostly because everything was echoing, and the room was slowly starting to engulf him. 

Basically crashing into the wall of the elevator, Peter practically broke the "Roof" button. 

When he got to the roof, he basically gasped for air like he was restricted from it and this was his last chance for air for the next 20 years. 

"It's... in me... I can feel it," Peter whispered, now just realizing he was still in his Spider-Man suit.

He lay on to whatever was on the roof, possibly the air conditioner. Peter suddenly felt very worn down, Peter felt sleep gnawing at his body. Closing his eyes, Peter quickly found his way towards sleep. 

=-=-=

The next time Peter awoke, his face was on cement. He felt the pain immediately, and noted that he was wearing his mask. Looking at his hands, he realized that it was gray and black, with a tint of red. 

He smelt the iron. 

Blood..?

"Spider-Man," hissed a man's voice from his left. "What are you doing in Hell's Kitchen?" 

Shaking his head, Peter immediately recognized Matt's voice. Stumbling to his feet, Peter noted the extreme pain in his ankle. 

"Matt," Peter started, surprising himself with the weakness clear in his voice, "I don't...I don't know..." That wasn't a lie, because Peter didn't know how or why he went to Hell's Kitchen. 

"I heard that Spider-Man was causing a ruckus in Hell's kitchen. I went to investigate. Are you aware of what you've done?" Matt asked, the venom in his voice replaced with concern. Peter shook his head, his mind racing. 

Did he hurt someone? 

What did he do?

Why is he doing? 

Did he kill someone? 

"Come on, Peter. We should discuss this somewhere private." Peter nodded, following Matt to his apartment most likely. 

=-=

"Sit on the couch. Listen to the news," Matt said, clicking the remote to "play". 

Peter's eyes darted to the TV, watching the images flicker. 

"Breaking News: Spider-Man, the once friendly and gentle superhero, has changed character! Earlier today, 13 low-life criminals are in critical condition. Spider-Man apparently did not hold back at all, therefore the criminals are in the ER currently, and there is no way to tell if they are going to make it." 

Peter stared, horrified, at the TV. 

"I-I- I didn't do that. I swear, Matt, I didn't-," Before he could finish, there was a huge bang on the door, and the sound of multiple feet entering the apartment. 

"Peter!" he heard Tony's voice call from the door, there was worry, yes, but there was something else that Peter couldn't place. Matt didn't move, and Peter guessed that he just assumed that they would barge in. 

Soon enough, Peter saw Tony, Steve, Clint and Wade. 

Peter lifted his head, completely aware of the situation. They probably think that he went on a fighting rage. 

"Peter," Steve said, "We just want to know why you went so hard on those criminals." His voice was hard, and pure of anger. 

"Petey," Wade said, shifting uncomfortably, "I know this may seem weird coming from me, but I know you. You don't kill, I kill, but you don't. What's wrong, Peter?" 

Peter felt like screaming. No. 

They didn't understand! 

They won't understand. 

They never understood. 

Why is he fighting it? 

Why not let it go? 

Sighing, Peter let it go.

He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. 

Smirking, Peter just said, 

"Nah, this is me now. I don't care if it's not 'me'. Ya don't like it? Too bad, too sad." 

Peter laughed at the shocked expressions on everyone's face. Opening a window, Peter just fake-yawned. 

"Ima flee, now. If ya need me, I'll be on the news," he blew a 'kiss' at them, and then jumped out of the window with a 'whoop'. 

=-=-=-=

A\N 

2IN1

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I dunt kno

Does thy ship 

SpideyDevil? 

Jus' wondering

This work currently exactly has 1000 words!

XOXO NIGHTMARE