A Family of Flaws

Chapter Twenty-Four; Mask-Buddies

*Peter's POV*

  Peter swung through the city with strong, confident strokes. Every curve that he followed as he practically flew through the air calmed him down. He was overreacting, right?

  The thought of the little boy, Liam, who had been severely hurt by a lowlife thug wouldn't leave his mind. He just kept seeing the sight of his crumpled body on the grimy ground, shoulders heaving for a full breathe while a liquid continued to fill his small lungs. Peter shuddered, feeling nauseous as he landed on the rooftop of a small apartment complex.

  It still made him feel queasy to think about how easily that man had thrown Liam against the wall, not caring about how young and innocent he was. He didn't care that he was a child.

  Peter had been so upset that he had made sure to track down the hospital that Liam had been rushed to, he found out that Liam was fine now and recovering. He was to be discharged on Thursday, yesterday, but Peter hadn't gone to check up on him since he made sure he was alright.

  Peter hoped that he was out of the hospital and playing with his little sister, happy and healthy, because Peter couldn't even imagine the sight of that poor mother and the little girl if Liam hadn't made it. The image of a coffin, much smaller than one for an adult, crossed his mind and his stomach lurched dangerously.

  It was bad enough that a little kid had been hurt, but thinking about him dying? It was too much.

  And this whole situation continued to remind Peter of the night that Ben died. He had continued to push all thoughts of that event from his mind since it happened, and he didn't like having to remember it over and over again as he continued to think of Liam.

  Peter was a hero. He needed to be stronger than this. But still, his eyes stung as unshed tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He told himself it was because of Liam, but deep down he knew he was finally starting to let the grief of Ben's death hit him.

  He had suppressed all the tears and the sadness and the anger that he had felt about Ben's death, but now it was all erupting out of him as he thought of Ben.

  "What're you up to, kiddo?" A sing-song voice asked airily from somewhere behind Peter. The tears that had threatened to escape his eyes all but dissipated as Peter recognized who the voice belonged to.

  Peter had been on the ground, legs crisscrossed as he looked over the edge of the building, and he was truly debating just jumping off in that moment. But, unfortunately, it was Deadpool who had found him and he would no doubt easily find him if he made a run for it. He was strangely good at finding him.

  Peter slowly turned to see the mercenary, who was mirroring Peter's posture, about five feet behind him. Peter stood up and made sure to stand as close to the edge as possible, steeling his face despite the fact that it was hidden from the man sitting on the roof of the apartment complex.

  "I thought I made it perfectly clear that I didn't want anything to do with a creep like you last time we talked?" Peter sneered as coldly as he could, hoping to make the man leave without any kind of struggle.

  "And I thought I made it perfectly clear that I don't want to tell anyone about your age." The mercenary replied in a steady voice, almost sounding serious for a moment. "But you wouldn't even listen to me last time— you were pissed, kid!" He continued, rocking back and forth from his place on the ground.

  "I gave you some time to calm down your angry, teenage hormones and now I want to talk to you." Deadpool exclaimed, his mask practically smiling (it was still a mystery how it did that).