HERO - Spideypool [fanfic]

Epilogue

sorry i haven't updated in ages, but yes; This story has a end after all. Please read the (looong) A/N at the end ^^"
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**WADE**

Peter was undoubtedly one of a kind. 

I'd never experienced having someone look out for me the way he did. Even after I was sure I'd lost him, he came back and told me he was the one who was sorry. Every time I glanced at my gun, he'd turn my head back to the TV where we'd be watching some stupid science show, and he'd hold my hand to make sure I didn't do anything stupid. 

<I never knew you could get so sappy.> 

"I blame Peter." 

He looked up at me once I spoke up, and raised his eyebrows, but I nodded towards the TV and told him to focus on the show instead. 

"Wade," he said, eventually, turning off the TV. I blinked, and he scratched his neck awkwardly. 

"How long are you usually like..." he started, but his words faded away. I blinked again. Peter turned his body more towards me, one leg under him, so he could look at me directly. 

"You told me once that you have manic depression," he tried carefully, and I nodded. 

"Mhm." 

"Manic, as in when you're up you're really up. You're everywhere." 

"Do you have a point?" I slid my hand out of his grip and started mindlessly picking at the loose strands on his shirt instead. 

"And depressed, as in when you're down you're really down. Like you've been for the past week." 

I didn't say anything. I just kept picking at his shirt, ignoring the feeling that was growing inside of me - the need to either put myself out of this ridicilous depression, or go full destruction-mode. 

"I don't like seeing you down," Peter whispered. 

[Blame it on the author]

"Up, down, sideways, backwards. We can do them all," I joked, but instead of flushing red like he'd usually do, Peter just grabbed my face and forced me to look at him. 

"I love you." 

I stopped picking at his shirt. 

Through everything I'd put him through - killing a man, worrying him to death with my unstable mental health, made him look upon a seemingly dead Deadpool with a gunshot wound in his head lying in the middle of an apartment, making him go through probably a shit ton of more trouble than he was letting on to by just simply hanging out with me. I knew no one liked me, but everyone loved Spider-Man. I wonder what they were saying about us behind our backs. 

Through all of the shit I'd forced him to go through, he was still here. 

"You really are one of a kind, aren't you?" I mumbled, leaning in to rest my forehead against his. 
"Good to know I'm not the only crazy person here, though." 

"What do you mean?" he whispered, his breath sending tingles throughout my every limb. 

"No sane person has ever stuck with me for so long." 

Peter smirked. "Guess I'm just crazy about you, then." 

I pulled away, my eyebrows raised. 

"Are you beating me? Is this you beating me with your flirting?" I gasped, putting a hand to my chest. "I'm shook." 

Peter groaned. "If you're going to start using internet slang I don't understand then this game of flirting ends with me actually leaving." I laughed, pulling him back down as he tried to get up from the couch. 

"Of course you don't understand it, the author doesn't even understand it." 

"What author?" Peter asked, but I didn't answer. He rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in the couch. Never before had he looked more like a 7-year old who had just been denied late night snacks. 

"Hey Spidey?" I said, but he didn't turn around. I leaned my head closer to his, and bit his ear. 

"Peter," I whispered, and he pushed me off the couch. 

"I am pure," he stated, and I grinned up at him. I took in his every feauture, and rested my head upon my hand. 

His hair was a mess, and he desperately tried to get it away from his eyes. Those beautiful, warm, brown eyes. I'm pretty sure that if Hitler had gazed into those eyes, he too would've admitted that brown eyes can be worth getting lost in. Peter's were an ocean of endless shades. When he was sad they'd be a rusty shade of brown. When he was mad, they almost looked darker. And when he was happy, they looked like the sweetest chocolate you could find on this earth. 

His eyes looked like chocolate right now. 

"I love you, too," I said, after a long silence. Then I grabbed his shirt again and pulled him down with me, finally feeling his lips against mine again for the first time since I thought I'd lost him. 

And somehow, I knew; if Peter could stick through so much with me, he wouldn't leave any time soon, either. 

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HEY KIDS. Deadpool here. Vic is too emotional to write the last A/N apparantly, so I'll just write it down for him. 

First of all, thanks to everyone who supported this story, yada-yada-yada. Vic claims to not be much of a fanfic writer, but I know that little gay ass had a fun time writing this. He also claims you're all insane, but clearly you're not alone in that. 

Secondly, he knows some of you didn't want this story to end, but thankfully the majority of you understood that it was a good place to end it, and that no story can go on forever, blah blah blah...EXCEPT MINE CAN cause I'm Deadpool and nothing can stop me. Therefore; look out for some one shots now and then, to stay updated on Spidey and Mr. Pool's adventures. 

Lastly, special shoutout to a friend of ours, Vanya. This story was started for you, and even though it evolved into being a story for way more people than just you, you're still the reason it started. (V: now get back online and talk to me bitch, I need my captain Kirk)

Looks like Vic is ready to take it from here, so I'll leave you to it, boss: 
Thanks DP.
 I love all of you psychos. If you wanna talk, feel free to DM me. We're family now okay I shall be your big bro if you ever need me. Anyways, here ends my/DP's speech, so take care guys, and keep your eyes peeled for some fluffy one shots :3 

-Vic&your friendly neighborhood Deadpool.