Spiderman decided it was high time he made an appearance. Wade was staying home, just in case. As he was swinging around, he spotted the batsignal.

Once he arrived on top of the police station's roof, he startled a man with graying red hair, a mustache, and a trench-coat. "Who are you?" The man looked him up and down, a glare forming.

"He's a friend," The oh-so familiar voice of Batman spoke from above. He leapt down next to him, Robin right behind.

"Spiderman, at your service." Peter bowed extravagantly. Now it was Batman's turn to glare.

"Aw..." Deadpool popped out from behind him. Peter yelped, webbing Deadpool to the wall.

"Oh, it's you." Peter frowned, crossing his arms. "I thought we agreed it'd be for the best if you didn't show your face."

"I'm not showing my face, that's the point of the mask!" Wade pointed out.

"You know what I meant! I swear if you kill anyone, you'll be plucking bullets out of your skull." Peter threatened, crossing his arms.

"Oh come on! Not even a little bit?" Wade complained.

"Who's this?" Batman gave Peter an even harder glare, his eyes narrowed into practical slits.

"This is Deadpool," Peter growled.

"Well, he isn't being very polite." Deadpool turned to face the readers. "Do you think I should jump off the building? I'm thinking yes, but I'm not sure."

"Who are you speaking with?" Robin crossed his arms, his face imitating Batman's.

"I'm doing it, I am so doing it. I wanna see their faces!" Wade smirked as he looked down. He extended his arms, and fell backwards. Batman didn't seem too worried, as he'd seen Spiderman pull the same stunt a few times. But then after there was a sickening crack, Batman, Robin, and the mustache-man ran over to the edge. Spiderman more casually walked over.

"He's...he's actually dead!" Mustache-man exclaimed.

"Really!" Peter widened his eyes, a wide smile underneath his mask. He swung down next to Deadpool, Batman and Robin grappling down after him. "Eh, he'll be fine in a few hours."

"What do you mean he'll be fine in a few hours?" Batman glared harshly at Spiderman.

"He heals fast." Spiderman shrugged.

"Not if it's an injury too bad to heal from." Batman's gravely voice seemed to be trying to reach Peter.

"Actually, I think he's banned from dying." Spiderman sighed.

"Right you are, Spidey! It's too bad, though, because Lady Death is really hot. Stupid Thanos and your stupid infinity gauntlet." Deadpool grumbled, his body slowly piecing itself back together on the ground.

"Amen to that last part," Peter shuddered, remembering being stuck in the soul stone. Batman and Robin mostly just stared. "And you're going to go home, and you can slay some imaginary ninja's in your mind."

"Fine, but only because the author lady is making me," Deadpool peeled himself off the ground, some of his bones hanging out in awkward angles.

"Does that...hurt?" Robin raised an eyebrow.

"It used to," Deadpool shrugged. "Now I really don't feel it as much."

"Come on, let's go figure out what the cop dude wanted." Spiderman webbed his way to the top of the building to where the commissioner was waiting.

"Is he..." The commissioner asked, worry laced in his eyes.

"Nah, he's fine." Spiderman didn't even flinch when Batman and Robin landed on the roof next to him. "Now, what's up?"

"There's been sightings of a man said to be made from electricity and another guy said to be made from sand hitting up a few stores, making away with a few million in cash." The commissioner showed Batman some pictures, which he showed to Peter.

"Look familiar?" Batman asked.

"Mhmm." Peter nodded slowly. "I need a vacuum cleaner and a firetruck." He deduced.

"A...A vacuum cleaner?" Commissioner Gordon blinked.

"Well, do you have one? I mean, I make due with just the firetruck, but-" Peter frowned, but was cut off by the commissioner.

"No, no, I have one, it's just... Why a vacuum cleaner?" Gordon stared at Spidey, his expression completely confused.

"To suck Sandman into it, duh." Peter rolled his eyes, though none of them could see it, and Gordon nodded as if it was suddenly making sense.

"I can get you one, but it'll take minute." Gordon began walking inside the police station, and Peter turned back to Batman and Robin.

"Do you two think you can hold them off until I get there?" Peter asked, looking between the two, who both nodded at the same time. "Good, I'll be there ASAP."

Peter turned his head as he thought he heard something, his Spidey-sense telling him of something, but when he looked, there wasn't anything there. He shrugged it off, and as he turned back to where Batman and Robin were, they were gone. "How does he do that?" Peter asked aloud, astonished.

"I often ask the same question." Gordon came back up, a small vacuum in hand. "I've sent a few firetrucks up there already, they should be there by the time you arrive." He added, handing him the vacuum.

"Thank you, Commissioner. I don't get a whole lot of help from the police back home." Peter admitted truthfully. A second later and he took off towards the sound of the firetrucks, landing on one of them and hitching a ride. What? It wasn't like he could afford to waste his webbing.

The fight had been pretty low. Batman and Robin had them pretty exhausted, so Sandman didn't even notice Spiderman with the vacuum until it was too late, and Electro simply didn't have the energy to fight against the turret of water that came his way. Two down, four to go. Easy, right?

Peter went home, changed out of his costume, and walked in to see Wade with a sewing machine on the table. He was fully healed by now, and he was stitching up his costume where it had been torn on his fall. There was one thing bothering Peter though. "Where'd you get the sewing machine?"

"I asked the neighbors if they had one, and lucky for me..." Wade gestured down at the very old, yet functioning, machine that he was using.

"Just make sure to give it back. And give them five bucks or something for letting you borrow it." Peter sighed, deciding he'd rather not talk to Wade longer than necessary. He plopped down onto his mattress, grabbing his phone from the charger.

He sighed as he had three new messages from Dick.

D: Hey

Thanks for the pancakes again, Alfred really appreciated not having to cook.

Anyways, Bruce is having a gala thing next weekend, and you and Wade are welcome to come. Just make sure to wear a suit and tie. If you need one, I can lend you one.

P: Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds fun. I'm not sure if Wade'll come, but I'll ask.

That was a lie. Peter wasn't going to ask Wade.

Oh come on! What'd I do wrong! How come I'm not getting invited!

Think of it as petty revenge, Wade. Petty revenge.

I'll show you petty revenge, Sparky. You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into.

Let's just get back to the story, it's two in the morning and I'm tired.

Fine, fine, but I will exact my revenge at some point!

D: Great, I'll let Bruce know you're coming. :)

P.S., they really aren't that fun, just a forewarning, I just want someone to be there that's closer to my age and that isn't my brother.

P: It's fine, don't worry about it.

D: You're sure? ;)

P: Positive

D: Alright, I'll take your word for it

P: Anyways, how's your ankle?

D: Oh, it's almost completely healed. Al says I can take it off tomorrow, actually.

P: Cool.

D: Meh, I can walk on my hands just as good as I can on my feet, so it really doesn't bother me much

P: Interesting

D: Yeah, I guess

P: Hey, I'm going to head to sleep, but I guess I'll see you next weekend?

D: Oh, right! It's on Saturday at 7:00, Wayne Manor. I should probably head to bed to. But yeah, see you next weekend.