A/N: I'm starting to wonder if I should make this into an actual fanfiction, create a whole story from this. Let me know what you guys think!

~ Tyler
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LET'S HURT TONIGHT

It had been a few weeks since the remaining Avengers had returned from their unsuccessful battle against Thanos and spirits were at an all-time low as everyone slowly came to terms with the people they had come to care about and befriend. Per his return from Wakanda, Steve Rogers had reunited with the remainder of his team and had even offered Wade a chance to stay in the tower which he had immediately declined, not wanting to be around anyone as they all began to come to terms with what happened. Even Aunt May had given Wade the offer to stay with her, which he had also declined, although a lot more politely than he had the heroes of New York.

Now, he was sat in his apartment in the dark. He hadn't moved from his spot in the living room for a few days, he couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten or done the basics of self-hygiene and he knew had Peter still been there with him the younger hero would have gently prised him from his depressive state with love, care and kindness that rarely anyone else showed him and something that he wasn't used to.

[Are we really going to mope around here all day? We could be out working and doing our job. Or at least eating some taaasty tacos.] Yellow complained, making Wade realise just how hungry he really was as his stomach growled. "Shut up." Wade muttered to himself, rubbing a hand over his face. He cringed in disgust at feeling the dried blood on the side of his head from where he had shot himself after he tried to get some sleep only to be haunted by the idea of his boyfriend being out in space calling out for him in his last moments, knowing that Wade wouldn't turn up to protect him.

[I'm just saying Petey-pie wouldn't want us to be moping around like this.] Yellow continued to whinge.
{He does have a point.} White seconded, a little more reasonably than the other box. {You know he hated seeing you when you got in states like this.}
"Both of you be quiet!" Wade yelled, gripping tightly onto his head. "He isn't here!" He paused, the anger fading from his voice as he fought not to break down in tears again. "My baby boy is... he's gone."
[Ask Death if we can have him back!] Yellow chirped.
"She won't do that. You know she won't." Wade mumbled, his voice cracking with withheld emotion. "I've asked every time I put that bullet in my brain."

{No, you ask her if you can stay with him. Where ever his soul is.}
"Same thing." He said softly as he sat up on the sofa, staring at his guns that were spread out on the cluttered coffee table in front of him. One more time wouldn't hurt right? He only wanted to see his baby boy, just once more. He knew he couldn't stay with him but even just watching him from behind that invisible wall knowing that Peter's memories of life were filled with Wade and the love they shared was enough. He just wanted to see him, he wanted to hold him, to kiss him. He wanted to tell him that he loved him. He wished he had said it before Peter had gone off into space with Tony, wished he hadn't been so afraid of a potential rejection from the man he loved and the commitment that those three little, but important, words would bring. But Wade had withheld those words, he'd kept them to himself promising he'd say them when the time was right, but he'd missed his chance. He wouldn't get another now.

Wade reached over and picked up his favourite gun from the table, placing the barrel of the weapon against his skull in the same place where he had just fired the bullet from this morning. He looked around the messy apartment with a sigh, his tear-filled eyes landing on a photo of Peter in his arms. "See you soon, Webs." He smiled, pulling the trigger.

*****

His eyelids snapped open, seeing Peter sat in front of him with that same crooked smile that made Wade's heart skip, curled up on the sofa reading a book with the television playing quietly in the background like he often could be found when Wade came back home from a job. He reached out towards the young hero, wanting to take him into his arms and hold him, to apologise for not being there, to tell him that he loved him. His fingertips brushed against the same invisible barrier he was met with every time he visited, his heart breaking once again as he dropped to his knees with the palms of his hands pressed against his eyes. "Death, please," he begged, "please just let me hold him. Let me tell him how much I love him."

Once again, he was met with nothing, but silence and his anger rose. "Fuck you!" He screamed, pressing his back against the invisible barrier settling back to just watch his boyfriend until it was time for him to be dragged back to his present life. One where Peter didn't exist anymore, and his boxes would scream at him for pulling the same stunt once again. He could already feel the slight pain that was his regenerative powers, forcing the bullet from his head as the wound closed and his organs began to restart. He sighed, smiling a little even though he knew Peter couldn't see or hear him. "I love you baby boy. I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there, and I didn't tell you before."

*****

Wade was jerked back into the living world as if on a bungee cord, his heart was racing and his breathing erratic as he sucked huge gulps of air into his lungs. His head pounded with an oncoming migraine and he groaned as he stood up to grab himself some painkillers from the kitchen cupboard along with a bottle of beer. He shuffled into the kitchen, dragging his feet along the floor as he held his head in his hands, grabbing the painkillers and beer he downed the both in one large swig. Making his way slowly back into the living room, he grimaced as he noticed the blood splatters that spread up the walls from the amount of times he'd shot himself in the head to silence his thoughts and the boxes. Not to mention his own guilt.

He sat down on the sofa once again, his head still in his hands as he tried not to start crying again. He missed his baby boy so, so much. He just wanted to hold the younger hero in his arms and never let him go. "Wade?" A voice whispered, so familiar that Wade's head shot up, his neck cracking from the sharp abrupt motion. The mercenary's eyes were red from withheld tears as he stared up at the direction of the voice. His heart plummeted into his stomach as he saw the one person he thought he'd never see again. "Petey?" He breathed, his voice broken and crackly from his withheld emotions. The younger hero beamed at him, wearing one of Wade's hoodies that came down to reach the middle of his pale slender thighs and Wade knew from memory that there would be nothing but a pair of boxers on underneath. "Hi Wade." Peter smiled.

The mercenary leapt to his feet, his gun clattering against the floor as he ran to wrap his hands around his boyfriend. However, he was met with nothing, his arms wrapping around thin air. He frowned, and he bit his lower lip as he looked around him to see that the whole entire apartment was once again empty. Wade forced back the urge to scream and run around the apartment for Peter as he numbly walked back over to the sofa, sitting down with his head in his hands again. "Wade." Peter's voice whispered from beside him this time, a gentle hand resting on his right shoulder. "It's me. I'm home, baby."

Wade shook his head vigorously, refusing to look up as he bit back another pained sob. "You're not here. You're not real, baby boy."
[Look up.] Yellow argued. [He's right beside you, idiot.]
{He has a point you saw him with your own two eyes.} White seconded. Peter pried Wade's hands away from his eyes, lowering them into his lap. The younger hero grabbed hold of Wade's scarred chin, turning his head to face him so that he could smile at him. "See Wade? It's me." Peter said, smiling sadly as he noticed the tears in Wade's eyes. "I'm right here and I'm never leaving you again."
"Stop." Wade whispered hoarsely, shaking his head as the tears dropped down his cheeks irritating his already sore skin. "You're not here. You're gone and I... I can't..."

He shook his head again, looking down at their hands. "I never told you."
"Told me what?" Peter asked, a frown creasing his brow.
"T-That I love you." Wade said, "I never told you because I was scared you'd say you didn't feel the same and now I don't even know if you're really here and I'm telling you or this is my own fucked up head messing with me. All I know is I can't do this without you, I don't want to."
"Wade..." Peter whispered, his voice soft and gentle as he moved to sit in Wade's lap. "I love you too." He breathed as he leant in to kiss the older male.

Their lips moved in sync with other, soft flesh against scarred as Wade clung to Peter like he'd disappear again if he let go of him. His fingernails dig into Peter's hips as he pulled the smaller male closer, their chests pressed together as they kissed slowly, remembering everything about how the other felt and tasted as Wade bit lightly on Peter's lower lip and was instantly granted entrance. Wade slipped his tongue into Peter's mouth, humming in pleasure from the warmth and love that the other male offered as he entwined their tongues, each tasting the other. Pulling back to catch his breath, Wade buried his face in the crook of Peter's neck, nipping the soft smooth skin gently as he inhaled his elegant oud wood and dark vanilla scent. "I love you baby boy." Wade whispered, his eyes still scrunched tightly shut as he cradled his baby boy tightly in his arms.

The two of them stayed like that for a few moments before Wade pulled back, intending to look back at Peter, wanting to commit his face, his taste, his scent to memory, never wanting to forget the man he loved. However, Peter wasn't there when Wade opened his eyes to look at the hero. "Peter?" He called hoarsely, looking around him before he realised the younger male wasn't there anymore and maybe never had been in the first place. He sunk back on the sofa, his heart plummeting in broken shards inside his chest. "He was never here." He whispered to himself, staring back at the coffee table and his row of guns. Wade sat forward on the sofa once more, picking up another of his guns from the table, checking the ammo inside the weapon. Once more wouldn't hurt.