~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peter ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter and Wade were gone within three days of their discussion. They hadn't informed Tony, it was too dangerous to inform him now. Wade would send a message when the time came that their resources they had stashed for Peter were low.

Weasel, someone relatively close to Wade and was basically his last resort to his cold connections that would give them a way out. The bar Wade had dragged Peter to to  meet this fellow had sent stinging prickles of warning through Peter's skull and spine. The man behind the counter hadn't exactly look happy with Wade when he came in. It was quite obvious that Wade wasn't generally welcomed as a costumer at the man's place but when the other had discovered the Mercenary wasn't here for pleasures and was ready to talk business and execute pre planned escapes the other was more then willing to get to work, bringing some other lad up front to tend the bar while Wade and Peter were brought back.

The process was quick but all the same time consuming and torturously long. Two days time Peter Parker was pronounced dead after being identified by authorities after a gang fight, story stating Peter had been a passerby caught in the misfire.

Peter had distracted himself to ignore the idea of what Aunt May was thinking now. They haven't brought her into it yet and he could bear the idea of what she could possibly be going though thinking he was gone, his soulmate abandoning him after his death. Peter had hated the days they were spent in wait at Weasels place as Wade and the friend went out and did all the work, leaving Peter to sit along in an apartment with nothing but the guys tropical fish to keep him company and the sound of someone else in the building being intimate with their partner to ease his boredom. He once again was left confined in a small area, lucky this time not at the mercy of instincts and the Lust for blood. Now Peter would only have craving for the taste which he could easily take care of by sucking on a small iron Wade had dulled to the point of making a butter knife look dangerous. Peter was grateful.

Peter had at some point found a sharpie. He wasn't sure why but he decided that he wanted to trace over his scars. The blank ink would last days and that's what he wanted. He wanted to look at each one and see if he could remember what each was from.
He started with his hand, getting the ones covering his knuckles from hundreds of thrown punches. He filled the areas in so the scars appeared to be empty holes of darkness against his pale skin. He carried the marker tip up his left wrist and arm, dragging the marker along his skin. The ink was cold and felt oddly satisfying as it dried on his body. When he got to where he could no longer easily see or mark the light marks in his skin. He traded the marker between hands and filled the spaces where long streaks were left from his struggle with his stopwatch. Something between longing and resent for the object. It was a familiar thing and he'd endured it so long that he wished it was still with him or that he at least had its broken remains to look at but couldn't bring himself to miss it completely as he didn't miss the torturous screeching that would oftener come from the horrid thing. The cars were long dark rips in his skin when he was finished filling them in before he went to the bathroom, discarding his shirt to continue. He marked the few scars he had from the many times that he had been shot, the entrance and exit wounds nor matching up in count for pairs. Peter wondered how he had always failed to notice just how Riddled with marks he was. Many of them only from severe injuries his healing factor for what ever reason wasn't able to heal up quick enough before it scarred. Te marker traced over his well built chest, outlining the marks left behind from sharp, dangerously long claws of a lizard from his first years of his hero work when he wasn't as careful. That's where most of his marks came from, when he wasn't as smart or skilled to know how to avoid all dangers and listen to his senses that cried out to him. He spent hours perfectly outlining himself in ink, making his pale scars viable and far more noticed, remembering the story and tale behind each one of his early adventures while doing so. When Wade came back with news that they could settle soon he fell quiet when he had noticed the marks. They were alone in the guest room when his soulmate asked him to remove his shirt so he could see. Peter wasn't sure if Wade was disappointed or unresponsive to marks he had made with the markers, either way Wade had dropped his work to comfort his soulmate with what he had to offer to his love.