Edited Version!

When Peter blinked open his eyes, the first thing he noticed was pitch blackness. He blinked slowly hoping to be able to make something out in the darkness. Nothing seemed forthcoming. Then sound slowly started to surround him. Peter strained his ears for a second hoping to make sense of the newfound mumbling. Within moments the sounds began to increase in volume. When Peter finally was able to make the sound out, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was laughing. Terrible, hysterical laughing. Hoping to find the source, he looked around in vain.

When Peter finally looked down, he was able to make something out in the blackness. He was standing in blood deep enough to reach his ankles. Then the light started to illuminate the surroundings. His clothing was caked with blood all the way up to his knees. He gasped as he stepped back trying desperately trying to get away. In his surprise, he slipped and landed with a splash. He pulled his hands to his chest in horror as they were stained red. The laughing had continued to grow louder. Peter desperately wanted to cover his ears, but the blood kept his hands near his chest. When he felt like he just couldn't handle it anymore, the laughing stopped. He blinked as he stood up slowly, hands still held close. The blood around him was splashing, soft like the ocean waves on the beach.

"PETER!" A broken voice pierced the deafening silence. Suddenly the room exploded into light. Peter slammed his eyes shut. When he gained the courage, he opened his eyes to a stained and vandalized concrete wall. A jail cell. Peter knew this place. "Peter?" The voice repeated, and he quickly turned around. Harry Osborn stood before him wearing a straightjacket, "There you are! You fucker! You did this to me!" Peter stood frozen as their eyes locked. Harry's eyes were wide and unfocused. They stood like that for what felt like hours. When the tension was just about too much, Harry started laughing again. Peter felt captivated as he watched Harry's head roll forward with his laughter. Peter felt he had to reach for him, hoping desperately to help him. As soon as his hand made contact with the canvas of the restraints, blood began to pour from Harry's ears, nose, and mouth. The laughing became wet in sound and Harry choked but kept on laughing. Peter pulled his hand back, covering his mouth with sheer terror. Copper burned his nose from both the blood now on his face and Harry's. Peter felt a gag catch in his throat.

"All your fault… All your fault." Harry chanted as the blood poured from his face. His voice wet and hollow. Peter continued to feel as if he needed to puke, but he decided to turn tail and run. The chanting was soon drowned out by the splashing beneath Peter's feet and the rushing in his ears.

Peter ran for what felt like forever. His lungs were burning, and he was cold from the sweat and blood that caked his body. When he finally stopped running, he stood there heaving looking down at the still bloody floor. His heart was beating out of rhythm and going way too fast.

"Peter? Is that you? Are you okay?" said a soft sing-song voice. Peter looked up to see Gwen looking down at him, her eyes wide with concern. The blood stopped squishing beneath his shoes as he walked towards her. Captivated. He was mesmerized. She was just as beautiful as the last time he had seen her.

"Gwen, It's me. I'm okay and am I glad to see you," Peter reached out to grab Gwen's tiny wrists. She looked at him lovingly. He felt his heart sing, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt the urge to touch her. He needed to assure himself she was there with him. So he reached out to stroke her cheek, but when he did, he heard a deafening snap. Her eyes widened in horror, and she let out a wet gasp. Then she started to go limp falling forward. Then blood began to drip down her plush lips, staining her perfection. It all seemed to happen in slow motion as the color left her face and her eyes glazed over.

"Gwen! Gwen! No!" Peter fumbled around trying to save her, but she just kept crumbling like the broken carcass she was. The blood covered the floor again. "Gwen, please no..." Peter had tears rolling down his face as he babbled to her, wiping the blood from her mouth. Though the more he wiped, the more blood seemed to come. He heard someone snort and his whole body jerked. Peter looked over his shoulder to see Uncle Ben glaring at him with his arms crossed.

"You never were responsible. You were always getting yourself into trouble needlessly and now look what you did. Dragging so many people down with you," Peter couldn't believe what his Uncle Ben had just said. He stayed still for several seconds horrified. Then he gently laid Gwen's body down and walked towards his enraged uncle. Everything Peter did was to honor his uncle, and these harsh words hurt.

"Uncle Ben, please. I didn't mean to. I try so hard," Peter sobbed. He tried to wipe the tears away, but he just smeared blood onto his face. The combination of copper and salt was disgusting.

"Not hard enough apparently," Uncle Ben retorted weakly as a blood stain formed on the front of his white shirt. The horror of his death being relived.

"NO!" Peter screamed as the black world started falling in around him. Harry's gurgling voice once again entering his ears with, 'your fault, all your fault' over and over again.

"Peter. Peter! Goddamnit! Wake up!" Peter jerked straight up panting and covered in sweat. He was back in his dorm room. His roommate, Oliver, was standing next to Peter's bed. Peter still felt the panic crawling in his stomach. Oh God, was he going to puke? He flinched when Oliver reached for him. "Fuck, you need to chill. You're okay. You're not wherever you went to this time." Peter took several deep breaths, and he was finally able to calm down.

"Damn," Peter sighed as he dragged his hand down his face, "Sorry, Oliver. I didn't mean to wake you up." Oliver shrugged.

"Hey, it's fine," Oliver walked away heading towards his dresser, "Today you woke me up only slightly before my alarm. Like by twenty minutes. It's just extra time to get ready." Peter's shoulders slumped, these night terrors needed to stop.

"It's still nice of you to wake me up. God, they're getting worse," Peter mumbled as he started to get up. School, he needed to focus on school.

"You're welcome," Oliver shrugged throwing his clothes over his shoulder, "I can tell about them getting worse, You were legit screaming this time." Peter flinched as he headed towards his dresser. Oliver just smirked at him. Peter rolled his eyes, and he thought about how lucky he was to have Ollie as a roommate. Peter just hoped he didn't end up in his nightmares too. Just like Harry had.

"You ready?" Peter asked.

"Sure am, Pete." They headed off the dorm bathrooms to get ready for another day at ESU.

Peter Parker was a sophomore majoring in Biophysics at Empire State University. He was barely 19 years old, and he should be having the time of his life, but he was Peter Parker. He had the infamous Parker family luck. Putting that already inherent suckiness onto the fact that he had superpowers. Things never seemed to work out well. Like this morning for intense, he was sprinting to his first class. He had been walking through the back part of campus, happily ahead of schedule. Then he was jumped. The guys weren't students. They looked like thugs. Peter didn't have any money on him so when they ran off with his wallet it wasn't much of a loss. Well, except for his student ID and meal card, but he could get another after his 9 am class. He walked through the door to that very class at 8:58 am.

"Damn, Parker. Cutting it kinda close again, are we?" said the girl who sits behind him, Wanda was her name.

"Had a rough morning," Peter muttered as he readied his books.

"Do you ever have a good morning?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Sometimes." He shrugged as the professor started class.

After that class, he went to the student services and reported the mugging. After giving all the details, he got a new student ID and meal card. Thankfully with minimal fuss.

Things were looking up as his lunchtime rolled around. Peter had agreed through text message to meet Oliver at the dining hall. It was going to be nice to sit down and eat. He walked up to the outdoor tables and seen Oliver typing away on his computer.

"Hey, Ollie," Peter said as walked up to the table putting his stuff down.

"Hey, Pete. Ready to go get some food?" Oliver said as he closed his laptop.

"Definitely." They walked into the hall and swiped their cards, Peter proudly scanning his brand new one. Peter was feeling breakfast for lunch today, which was nice since there was a full-service breakfast bar and pancakes are fantastic. Oliver got a thing of soup and a salad.

"You and your damn pancakes. You eat those like ten times a week," Oliver said as he noted Peter's plate as they headed back out to their table.

"What? They remind me of home. Plus, they are delicious. And you're eating soup. You're always irresponsible when you eat soup," Peter stated as he raised a sarcastic eyebrow. He felt like all Oliver did was complain, but hey he adored his best friend.

"How am I irresponsible?" Oliver said with a smile just as sarcastic. His soup started to simmer, which answered his question. Oliver and any liquid was an irresponsible combination. He always felt obligated to make all liquids the perfect temperature. Peter rolled his eyes and started shoveling his pancakes into his mouth. The soup suddenly stopped steaming as Oliver began to eat. Peter's point was proven.

Oliver was a mutant. It didn't take long for Peter to find that out. They have only been roommates for a couple of months, but it took only three weeks for the truth to come out. Peter figured out by accident. He was supposed to be in class, but he had been out as Spiderman instead. He had decided instead of rudely walking into a class that was half over he just went to his dorm to have a snack instead. Peter walked in to see Oliver frozen in place with a dark purple liquid floating around him.

"What the heck?" Peter said as he hung his jacket up. He almost had to force himself to sound surprised because he'd already met so many mutants. Oliver stared at Peter and swallowed nervously. He looked at the now quivering liquid and back to Peter.

"It was going to stain," was all Oliver said.

"Grape juice tends to do that to carpet," Peter shrugged.

"You don't seem very upset?" Oliver asked timidly, as he pulled the liquid slowly back into the glass.

"No? Accidents happen. Plus, it's not like it's my carpet either," Peter said as he went to go sit at his desk. Oliver just stared for a second before he got up and dumped the juice down the sink.

"I actually meant about my... abilities," Oliver slowly said as if he was testing out his words.

"I mean I would never have pegged you as a mutant, but I mean it's not the end of the world or anything," Peter stated, and it was valid mutants and superhumans were everywhere, and unlike him, most of them didn't want to be heroes or even villains.

"Never would have guessed I'd be telling you about it," Oliver raised an eyebrow, and his tone changed, "Why are you so calm about it?" Peter sighed internally and decided he was going to out himself eventually anyway.

"Well, maybe I understand," Peter got up from his chair and walked up to Oliver, "Brace yourself." Oliver's eyes widened as Peter reached for him and picked him up with one hand and lifted him above his head. "I'm a human mutate." Oliver protested, and Peter put him down.

"Holy shit!" Oliver gasped, and Peter couldn't help but chuckle, "That's a bomb ass power!"

Peter was pulled out of his daydream suddenly as he was poked in the forehead. He jumped straight up and let out an undignified squeak, and his face started burning. "Damn, Peter. Where do you go to?"

"I was just thinking about that day with the grape juice."

"That caused you to go complete space face?" Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed, "What I was saying was that shitty paper you work for was running a story about Spiderman, but the pictures didn't look like him. The costume didn't have any blue, and there was too much black." That caught Peter's attention as he stopped his fork halfway. He lowered it and frowned. That sounded like Deadpool. It really pissed Peter off that everyone confused the two spandex costumes. The outfits were pretty different, not to mention that Deadpool was at least twice Spiderman's size.

"Everyone there is some sort of idiot anyway. Do you have the paper on you?" Peter drew out rubbing his left temple.

"Yeah," Oliver started to dig in his saddle bag. At that very second, Peter's spider-sense went crazy. He and Oliver were in real danger. Without thinking, he jumped across the table taking Oliver with him. They both ended up on the ground as a red and black katana sliced Peter's vacated chair in half. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"What the fuck?!" Oliver shrieked, and several students joined in, and everything erupted into chaos. Peter was terrified. Deadpool showing up only meant a couple of things and none of them were pleasant. Peter looked up just in time to see Deadpool land on the table crushing nearly everything in his path, including Peter's pancakes. Deadpool looked displeased, even though his mask as he glared in Peter and Oliver's direction. There were several seconds of thick tension as Peter and Deadpool locked eyes. The chaotic noise in the background fading until all Peter could hear was his heartbeat and shallow breaths. Then that intense moment was broken by Deadpool squealing. Peter flinched.

"Aww! You're so fricken cute! SO much cuter than your picture!" Deadpool gushed as he flung one of his legs up in an adolescent girl motion. He pulled the katana out of the ground as he hopped off the table. Peter broke out into a cold sweat, and all the liquid within a ten-foot radius started to boil. Oliver looked like was going to faint. "I mean, like, Damn. Who would want such a cute baby face like you un-alived? Well, I know that answer, BUT whatever!" Peter felt his anxiety rise to dangerous levels. Deadpool had a hit on him. Oh fuck. What did he know? Did someone find out the truth? What did Deadpool know?

Deadpool smiled as he pulled out Peter's old student ID. Peter felt like he was going to throw up or pass out or both. "I mean I knew you were a cutie, but fuck you look twenty times sexier in person!" Peter and Oliver both screamed as Deadpool pulled out a matching pair of pistols. Today was supposed to be an easy day! Now it was either die or out themselves. Because they definitely didn't check the optional question on their admission applications asking them if they were "Advanced Persons/Mutants." Which Peter thought was a cool idea at the time, though most likely ineffective.

It was Oliver who made up his mind first as he flung his right hand spraying his boiling soup all over Deadpool. Then he squeezed his hand causing copious amounts of hissing and steam to come off Deadpool. Deadpool hissed right back. His face focused back into a sharp glare. Thanks, Oliver.

"You got some nerve!" The sound of guns being cocked echoed in Peter's ears. The second Deadpool fired Peter grabbed Oliver, and they rolled out of the way of the incoming bullets. Peter was so unsure; this was a situation he had nightmares about. He was maskless in a public space and in physical danger. There was only so much Peter Parker could do. He couldn't fight like Spiderman, but he couldn't let anything bad happen either.

Then Deadpool zoned out for a second, so Peter slowly stood up and started walking backward, forcing Oliver back with him. "I don't know. He seems to know what's going to happen… Well, it would make the hit on him make more sense… Take him alive?… Yeah… I like that idea…" Deadpool said to what Peter had always hoped was a telephone, but he knew better than that. This wasn't his first encounter with Deadpool; they had worked together before several times. Then again that was with Spiderman, not Peter Parker. Deadpool smiled and put his guns up. Peter just kept walking backward. This was not going to end well.

"W-what do y-you want?" Oliver stuttered. Peter flinched. Goddamnit, Ollie!

"I want your love! I want your revenge!" Deadpool sang at the top of his lungs. Then the katanas replaced the pistols in his hands, "No. Actually, I want your friend here. Preferably without the revenge." Deadpool gestured towards Peter with a katana. He was starting to walk towards them casually swinging the swords. "You see. Mister Peter Parker has a hit on him to be filled by yours truly but look at the bright side it is a dead or alive hit. So, I'm taking him alive, probably, depending on how the next few minutes go." Oliver glanced at Peter and didn't say any more. Oliver often asked Peter about his frequent absences. Peter always chalked it up to work, but Oliver knew he was gone too much for how much he made. Peter just hoped Oliver didn't think he was a murderer or something. Honestly, it would be a fair conclusion since Deadpool was hired to kill him.

Deadpool smiled as he readied his swords. They were going to die if Peter didn't act now. Peter absolutely did not want that to happen. He wasn't taking anyone else down with him. Not again, never again. Deadpool took a step forward, and that was all Peter could risk. He didn't really care what happened to him he just didn't want to take Oliver down with him.

"WAIT!" Peter screamed throwing his hands upward. Deadpool halted his approach. "I'll go willingly just don't hurt anyone else here!" Deadpool smiled and sheathed his swords. Though that didn't calm down Peter in the slightest. He knew what Deadpool could do with his bare hands.

"Sounds great! Come on then! Woo! This means we can be friends!… Doubter… How bad do you think I am at my job?… Well, then," Peter had carefully walked towards Deadpool. Leaving Oliver frozen and wide-eyed. He was standing right in front of him when his spider-sense went crazy. It confused Peter he didn't know what was going to happen, but he had a feeling. He wasn't terribly surprised when Deadpool's fist connected with the side of his face. His vision blurred out and he heard muddled noises as his world faded into black.