Here We Go Again

16: Don't Be Sad, Darling

A day passed. Then it was two, and three. Nothing happened. Wade even turned his phone off. He stayed home, which was the exact opposite of what everyone expected from him. They expected Wade to sit at Peter's side until he woke up. Wade sat on his couch. He didn't leave the piece of furniture, actually, unless he needed to.

He slept on the couch, curled up under a blanket with a flat pillow under his head. He had ten water bottles of various sizes under the couch, meaning he didn't need to leave for water. There was one pizza boxes on the table from the first night. He woke up around noon and ate pizza for brunch and dinner, not bothering to heat it up. The only reason he got up at all was to use the bathroom and answer the door.

His phone wasn't broken, but the corner of the screen was shattered. He didn't use it to avoid further damage, except twice to call the pizza place. Many times he had stared down at the screen, finger hovering over the name Peter, face blank. Every time he decided against it, setting the device on the coffee table.

Despite being in the comfort of his own home, Wade was anything but comfortable. He didn't sleep, he barely ate, and he barely drank anything, despite the line of water bottles under the couch. There were dark circles under his eyes and worry lines etched into his forehead. He hadn't seen anybody for almost four days and was starting to feel worse and worse as the fourth day went on and on.

A gentle knock on the door drew his attention away from the spot on the wall where he was staring. Wade looked at the door for a moment, another knock making him realize he needed to see who it was.

"Hello?" he asked, pulling the door open. He hadn't spoken out loud in a while and his voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat eyes finally dragging up from the ground to look at his visitor. "Natasha?"

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked softly, pushing past him. She looked around his apartment, shaking her head. "What happened to you?"

"My boyfriend nearly died because of me, so sorry I'm feeling a bit down." She spun on her heel and pointed a finger at him.

"Shut your mouth, Wade Wilson. Do not say that. Don't do that to yourself."

"Sorry," he mumbled, eyes on the ground. She stepped toward him, putting her hands on his shoulders. She was shorter than him but he felt small in her presence.

"Wilson, go to the hospital. He needs to see you."

"I can't see him like that," Wade insisted, pulling his shoulders out of her grip and sitting back on the couch. "I can't see him like that."

"Like what, Wade?"

"In a hospital bed. I can't see him like that knowing I put him there and walked away perfectly fine." Natasha sighed.

"It's not your fault. This is the fault of those men. They did that to him. You saved him, Wade. Without you, we don't think he would have been found." Wade nodded in understanding. "Come see him."

"No, I can't do that."

"Wade Winston Wilson, I will drag you to the hospital."

"I can't."

"Peter is fine. He's out of surgery, and he's supposed to wake up today. I have a feeling your face is the first one he'll want to see."

"Nat, I don't think I can go."

"Well that sucks for you, because you're going, Wade. Rogers and Stark want to talk to you. Peter needs you, Wade. He wants you there."

"I just-"

"No, listen to me. On the ride to the hospital, do you know what he talked about? Hmm? You, Wade. He blabbed about you until the morphine kicked in. How much he loved you, and how amazing it was that you saved him, and how amazing you are, and how much he cares about you. He loves you and you know that."