a/n: I really wasn't a fan of how most of the character treatment and how many scenes went down in Endgame. Also, I have always loved the connection between Deadpool and Spidey. So, here's a one-shot that's mostly between Infinity War and Endgame (spoilers for IW but none for Endgame, except the very beginning). Deadpool's POV, reflecting on his interactions with Spiderman prior to Thanos events, and is then immediately post-Thanos. Ultimately, MCU crossed with Avengers movie-verse. I appreciate your time and really love when you leave nice reviews (also, PM me if you wanna discuss Endgame and what to expect from the MCU move-verse from here on out!).
Love, Doc.

*!POW!*!POW!*!POW!*!POW!*!POW!*

The Avengers unwillingly accepted me. I had to force myself on them most of the time and every time, they were less than thrilled to see me. I was kept at arms' length and always the red-headed step-child. Save for the spider-dude. Stark kept me from him as long as he could, but once I met the little guy at the Avengers compound, I had no choice but to take him under my wing.

I always let him take the lead when we'd go out after bad guys. I'd do most of the heavy lifting, but he was always in charge. That's probably the main—and maybe only—reason why Stark and the others allowed our odd pairing to stay intact.

Peter found me hilarious. Then again, he was a boy-genius, after all. We did most everything together – mostly crimefighting stuff, but also general hanging out.

Whenever Stark addressed the friendship, which was always, he had many things to say. Usually, he warned me not to corrupt the boy. Once he learned that I let him take charge of things, Iron-Man told me that Peter was to always be the leader, since he was far more trustworthy and had better judgement than me. I couldn't argue.

There were many other rules that all Avengers insisted I follow – kill people as little possible; don't go looking for trouble; stop pissing them off; shut my damn mouth; clean up my filthy language (ha, fuck that); try not to blow myself up (again); blah blah blah. Most of these things ended up being suggestions or preferences, which I was rarely capable of upholding.

And Peter tried to help me, tried to keep me on the straight and narrow. When I was with him, I did tend to do better. But he wasn't around 24/7 and without him to guide me back on track, my reserve faltered.

So, I fucked up. A lot. Everyone usually got over it and forgave me. . . eventually.

But there was one hard and fast rule that was considered utterly unbreakable and unforgivable. Stark made sure to remind me of it all the damn time. It was simple, and yet required all of my attention and energy: Don't lose the kid.

"Whatever happens, whatever you do – whatever mistake you undoubtedly will make," Tony Stark had warned at least a million-and-one times, "protecting Peter is your top priority."

Even America himself agreed. "Keeping Peter safe has to be your goal. That's your mission, Wade."

"If you fail at everything else, do not fail at that," Stark would growl.

And so I would focus every fiber of my being, exert every ounce of energy and motivation, to keeping that kid out of harm's way. He had to be safe. He had to live. Through everything and anything, failing him – and the others, by proxy – was not an option.

So when Stark called for help and Peter wanted to go, I was hesitant.

"Mr. Stark needs me, Wade!" Peter had insisted.

"All the Avengers are up each other's asses," I had told him, trying to dismiss the idea of him leaving. "They can handle whatever happens. You should stay here, with me, and we can get into all kinds of shenanigans!"

But once Peter made up his mind about something, there was no changing it. "I have to do this. I have to go," he said. And the passion in his eyes, in that little face, it was too much for my heart.

"Ughhhhhhh," I groaned, putting my face in my hands. "How can I say no to that wittle face?!" I said, pinching his Spidey cheek.

"So, we'll go?" Peter asked, a spark lighting up his eyes.

"Mm, you're half-right." I had told him. "I have other shit to manage. But you can go. As long as you promise to stay with Stark."

"Of course!" Spiderman promised, nodding fervently.

With a sigh, I had grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. "You are too precious for this world, little man. Come back to me, or else."

Laughing into my chest, where his face was smothered, Peter mumbled, "Okay okay okay!" Then he squirmed away from me and said, "I'll be fine. And I'll come back and tell you all about it!"

Then, he left to meet Iron-Man and the other mainstream heroes. They were intent on saving us from yet another threat from outer space. I tried to keep busy with other things, but my mind kept drifting to Peter and the others.

Then it happened. It was slow, and made no sense. People started disintegrating. Actually fucking disintegrating, leaving nothing but dust

I got to the Avengers compound in record time. America was there, with some of the others. I walked in, without knocking, and found a group of worn-looking heroes standing in the middle of a room. "You all look like absolute shit," I told them, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not now, Deadpool!" Steve said, pounding his fist on the table.

The outburst made me flinch, mostly out of surprise. But I held my ground. "Where's Stark?" I asked.

"Space," was Steve's short reply.

"No shit," I stated. "I know that's where he was. I wanna know where he is now," I clarified.

"Not back yet," Steve answered through gritted teeth.

And so I left. But I stayed close.

When the ship came crashing to the ground almost a month later, on the shoulders of the Lady Captain, I was front and center.

Stark walked out, pale and emaciated. He was followed by a blue person (a woman, I think). I watched as Steve approached, talking to Stark in hushed tones. I was ever-aware of the spaceship in front of me, waiting for another passenger to de-board.

There was no one.

Then I caught the words on Stark's lips: "I lost the kid."

I charged forward, fists clenched at my sides. By the time I reached Stark, the ittiest-bittiest ounce of restraint I had mustered was already shitting out.

Stark saw me coming and immediately put his hands up in front of his chest, defensively.

"How?" I demanded.

Before I asked it, I knew. And when nobody answered, it was further confirmed. My blood boiled with rage.

"Are you fucking kidding me? This has to be some sick ego-trip joke of yours. You're just shitting me. I mean, you're proving a point, trying to put me in my damned place, right?"

"I'm sorry, Wade," Stark said, barely a whisper.

I held my middle finger directly in front of Stark's face. "One rule," I said, deciding to make the bird serve two purposes. "You gave me one motherfucking rule. One thing that you told me I could not, should not, dare not ever fuck up."

Stark shook his head slowly. Tears welled in his eyes. "I know."

"And I never failed you. I did everything right when it came to him."

"I know," Stark nodded slowly, staring at the ground.

"But you." I let out a rueful laugh. "You fucked up. You failed – me, him, yourself, everybody."

"I know!" Stark yelled – at least, as much as his voice would allow in his weakened state.

Finally, I couldn't control myself anymore. I wheeled my arm back, fist at the ready, and slammed it forward. Metal crunched as my fist crashed into the side of the ship. Tony didn't move out of the way, didn't even flinch.

"The only reason I didn't hit you is because of that kid." I told him through gritted teeth, prying my fist from the metal that had crunched around it. I backed up, pointing at Tony. "You broke your own rule. Now you're gonna fix it."

"How?" Tony asked with genuine helplessness in his eyes.

I threw my arms up in an exaggerated shrug. "Figure it the fuck out, Iron-Man." I spat his title like venom in my mouth. "I don't care what it takes. You get him back."

A hand appeared on my shoulder. I barely twitched my head toward Steve Rogers. "Whatever it takes," he promised, solemnly.