Peter left the the other apparent quite unsatisfied. Not only had he been stupid and ever far too soon probably engaged their plan, but he also carelessly threw away his secret identity. If he ever would be able to 'get back in the business' as Spider-Man he could be compromised.

But maybe if he never told that he had done it. He had long again made sure there were not street cameras pointed at his apartment. There would be no visual evidence outside of the women that he had done it, his adhesive fingers didn't leave notable fingerprints when sticking to a surface. They would immediately known it was Spider-Man but there would be no way to identify Peter Parker...

"Fuck." Peter swears, pulling stressfully on his hair. He didn't clean the man's wound. And he wasn't wearing his full body suit so his fingerprints might not be there but his DNA sure as hell could be.  Sloppy. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. He's normally so precise with his hunts. Making sure to erase any and all connections to himself and the scene.

The arachnid quickly runs to the bedroom, slipping into the spandex suit as quickly as possible, grabbing some disinfectant alcohol based wipes and jumping out the window again. The woman wasn't there when he stepped back in, making the silent process of  cleaning easier without an audience.

He quickly starts to clean the wound sight, cleaning away the dried blood and invisible remnants of saliva that could be traceable from when he had eagerly fed on the body.l

He does the same with everything he knows he did and could have touched just to give his alter ego a longer chance at holding out as not being a completely dark character that had a serious hobby of saving kittens from trees and talk some smack to the stupid criminals that are allowed to run freely about his city. But in the end Peter knew he'd be count out my the rest of the world soon enough too.

When Peter is ready to silently exit through the window he sense the woman behind him.

"Wait."

Peter stops checking to reassure himself his black mask is indeed on his face before turning his head to the side to be able to see his neighbor partially.

"I want to-" she glances at the dead body of her soulmate in sadness. "To thank you. It may not have been the best option to solve the problem...but I take it you know that and you've done what you needed to. I'm sorry." The small Latina says looking down at her feet. Before glancing at her blank stopwatch. "But I feel the need to ask you, I-I'm not sure if you'll answer or maybe you should leave... but can I ask why you're afraid of the sound?"

Peter considers the window for a moment before turning back with s sigh. He deserved her that much for the trouble of putting a dead body on her floor.

"I.... used to have my stopwatch repeatedly go off. My soulmate died many times.... psycholocly didn't take it well. They left, it got worse, and I removed the problem." Peter sums up quickly.

She nods and doesn't ask anything more of him, only holding out a piece of paper. He tentatively take it from her before she takes a step back, slowing him freedom to leave. He's quick to take it.

When he finally into his home, throwing Collected webbing and cloths of the such into the waste basket before sprinting to their room. Surely Wade would be home any second and-

Peter hears the window slide open and he's too far away from the bedroom to be able to change and clean himself up so he dodges into the bathroom and quickly locks the door before turning on the water. He quickly throws off his black spandex, hiding it quickly not wanting to be caught red handed before unlocking the door and hopping into the hot water. He hisses when it's too hot as he quickly rushes. The arachnid turns down the temperature and starts to wash dried blood down the drain.

Wade walks past the couch, frowning at seeing a mini stuffed Deadpool laying lonely on the couch. Peter never left them to be alone, have some OCD issue about either having it with him or in a special spot where it wouldn't get lonely because they might have feelings too. Haven't you ever seen toy story?

He picks it up, wondering what Peter had been up to to forget one of his own ticks. Worry edges towards the man as he walks towards the hall were he could hear the water running. He knocks lightly on the door before hesitantly walking in. "Peter?"

"Yeah?" The arachnid asks peeking his head out from behind the shower curtain with a cute expression of innocence and large, beautiful grey eyes.

"Just checking in on you. I'll be out here okay. Just holler if you need something." Wade says giving a smile that's visible through the mask. He exits the small room, placing the small toy on the counter to sit in wait for his owner.

Peter retreated onto the L water having not noticed his Deadpool set on the counter. Standing alone in the shower felt bad. It made him feel hollow once he realized what was going on, starting to reestablish his now normal does and don'ts.

"Um Wade?" Peter asks.

Wade hadn't moved far, having expected the call. He has hoped maybe Peter was moving on for the arachnids own sake but didn't put as much confidence in it as he wanted. The behavior was odd, leaving Wade with a suspicion that he didn't care, nor want to dwell on. "Yes baby boy?"

"Can you...." Peter falters.

Wade knows he feels guilty for calling out to him so often. But honestly, all the mercenary ever truly wanted was to feel needed, and not only did Peter give him that but he also gave him love. There would be no moment he could imagine Peter should be nervous to call to him.

"I'd love to Petey." Wade says warmly as he enters the room once again ready to fulfill any request Peter should have.