#skip wescott

It was a normal Wednesday afternoon; Peter had his one day off of class, so when he’d finally rolled out of bed around 1 PM, Wade had already made breakfast and was waiting for him to join him on the couch. One of the two had pointed out their pantry was completely depleted of its resources- if the instant pancakes and soup meal they were sharing was any indication- and they should head to the grocery store to pick up at least another few days worth of food. Eventually they dragged themselves to get dressed in their civvies, and were out the door a few minutes later.

Peter hadn’t been suspecting a simple face to completely turn around his day for the worst. Actually, he’d just been scanning the store-brand generic cereal boxes for the cheapest kind when a voice he’d only heard in his childhood night terrors stole his attention.

“Peter? Peter Parker?”

He didn’t completely recognize the owner, at first. His spidey senses had started to fire as soon as the words sounded from behind him, though before he could tell himself not to look back, he had. Turning, he found himself staring at a man that had been severely aged in the 10 years or so since Peter had last seen it, though he could still clearly tell who it was at first glance. A look of disbelief crossed the man’s eyes upon realizing he was correct. Steven Westcott had been nothing more than a demon to Peter since he was barely in 5th grade. Now he had taken form on the unsuspecting 20 year old, and he felt himself reverting back to the horrible memories of when he was a child.

Peter could feel terror welling inside of his stomach that made him feel so terribly small and panicked. A cold sweat broke out against his skin, and he couldn’t quite fathom a reply at first. Automatically, he searched for an escape, and while the aisle was clear and he could easily leave if the need presented himself, he still felt trapped. When had the grocery store started to feel this crowded?

“It’s… It’s Steven. Or uh.. Skip. Sorry. I didn’t mean to just abruptly jump on you or anything.” Steven spoke calmly, as if he couldn’t see the phantom hands dancing over Peter’s chest his voice was conjuring. “I haven’t seen you in a really… really long time. You grew up.”

Peter tried to speak, realized his vocal cords had begun to sound gravelly, then cleared his throat before he attempted another word. “Yeah.” He replied hoarsely, shoving his hand in his pocket to hide the shakiness. He looked around again, mostly to get his eyes off of the creased expression that was bearing into him.

“Look, I… I feel like we have some stuff to talk about. I’m not the same kid I once was.” Skip raised a friendly hand as he stepped towards Peter, the action leaving a searing knife of anxiety stabbing into his chest. Peter recoiled back against the shelves, and he inwardly nagged at himself not to feel and act so pathetically. This was one man, one normal human man. Peter hated that he felt so…

Young.

“Don’t.” Peter said abruptly as he found his voice, making Skip stop in his steps. His hand dropped back against the work vest laying on his torso. He finally seemed to pick up on the signs that Peter was uncomfortable- extremely uncomfortable, and currently fighting a wave of nausea- as he backed off of his advances.

“Okay. You don’t have to. I understand if talking to you is doing more bad for you than good.” Skip’s face crinkled into confusion, making Peter wonder if this was ever a planned confrontation, or simple spur of the moment ignorance. “I have a lot to make right by you. I know that. You don’t owe me talking. I did so much wrong to you, Einstein.”

The nickname was enough to make Peter suddenly feel like he’d lose his stomach. He turned hotly on his heels, giving Skip some jumbled goodbye between “I’ll talk to you later” and “No thank you” before he ran squarely into the body of someone. Though not any someone. His someone.

“W-Whoa, baby boy, got somewhere to be?” Wade teased through the scarf pulled up over his nose.. He laced a strong arm across Peter’s shoulders, glancing down at his face. The second he saw the paled, frantic look, his nose crinkled in immediate concern. Only then did he notice Skip on high alert just a few feet away. He quickly put two and two together, mostly focused on Peter’s lack of a response, before protectively pulling the smaller man into his chest.

“Something wrong?” Wade asked, his voice sounding much more stoic than normal. His tone seemed to greatly put Skip on edge, who looked for his own way out.

“We need to go.” Peter said as he tugged on Wade’s sleeve, his voice small and barely able to be heard. Wade glanced back down at the shivering brunette trying to coax him out of the area, before deciding he’d get the story later. Peter was clearly uneasy.

“I’m sorry, Peter. Please, if you find the heart, I wanna talk at some point, even if you wanna bring your friend along.” Skip said with a motion towards Wade. “You know where I work. I’ll be here waiting.”

Peter shook the last line from his mind, giving Wade a rougher shove than he meant to. Wade stumbled for a second before he found his footing and lead Peter directly opposite of where they’d left the clerk.

“Do you wanna finish shopping…?” Wade murmured, though he could already see the beginnings of an anxiety attack in Peter’s crumbled body. Receiving a shake of his head, he abandoned the cart where it was parked and headed straight for the front doors. Though he knew Peter hated to be treated delicately, he was also unwilling to release him and leave him feeling alone. Whatever that man had done to leave Peter in this state… he was lucky he was walking away on his own legs.

----

They didn’t speak the rest of the way home. Peter had gone straight to their bathroom when they got to the apartment, and whether it was to calm down or actually use the restroom, Wade didn’t ask. He instead spent his time decluttering the space, not wanting anything else aggravating his anxious state, then sat with a blanket in wait. He was worried for Peter, of course, though more than anything wanted to know what had brought along the sudden anxiety and fear. He was good at talking, but Peter? Not so much. Wade knew if he didn't pry somewhat Peter would shut down, forcing himself to deal with it alone dumbly instead of at least trying to get help from Wade. Last time something of the sort had happened, Wade had found Peter's eyes lingering too long on a gun they kept on a desk in the bedroom… And that hadn't been a nice conversation for either of them.

The bathroom door slipped open quietly as Peter meandered out a half hour later,  just as Wade was considering seeking him out. He wore new clothes and his hair was damp, which of course meant he'd showered.  He pointedly headed for the kitchen instead of Wade, making the mercenary roll his eyes.

“Come sit.” Wade coaxed, holding the blanket open like he was ready for a hug.

“I'm hungry.” Peter stopped in the doorway to face him. Wade could see redness on his shoulders, as if the water had burned his skin, or he'd scrubbed too hard.

“No, you're cleverly avoiding me.” Wade pointed out. “I left the seat warm for you.”

Peter rolled his eyes at the not-cute attempt at being cute, and slowly let his guard down enough to join Wade. He felt the blanket wrap securely around his arms to trap him in a hug, before Wade pulled him into his chest. Comforting fingers rubbed circles over his shoulder, making him melt into his hold.

“So? Who was that douche nozzle?” Wade prompted. Peter felt himself wince visibly, his breath catching at the reference. “A bully from high school?”

Peter shook his head, his face contorting at the question. “I wasn't bullied that badly.” He muttered in response, folding his arms over his chest. He was hoping he’d somehow be able to divert attention away from his weird reaction, yet Wade was clearly set on finding the root of his problems.

“Then who?” Rough fingers grazed Peter’s cheek, slinking up to rub at the skin in a comforting act. Peter wanted to sink his face into the warmth, to lay there for hours in silence and just appreciate his company, but he knew he wasn’t escaping the conversation. Wade found emotions foreign, talk cheap, and both elected to totally shut down when they had issues rather than discuss them. The fact he was pressing so hard meant he wasn’t going to give up.

Peter’s trembling lips parted to say ‘my childhood friend’ but the words wouldn’t come. He was a victim to his own mind in that moment, a thousand descriptors passing over his tongue. He could answer his name, but that felt too personal. Calling him a mentor didn’t even begin to describe the horror he was to Peter, and calling him by his crime was completely out of the question. In truth, he was a haunting; he had loomed in Peter’s life since he had been young enough to fathom reality; he was a chill that would pass over Peter’s skin when the day was warm, or a figure he saw in the corner of his eye when he was alone. Skip was the image Peter saw when he woke up in a cold sweat, and the voice that would have him checking over his shoulder. It had been worse when he was younger, but as he aged, he’d begun to notice the signs dissipating. By now the memory had become nothing more than a story he hadn’t told.

At least until today.

“Someone I helped put in jail.” Peter finally settled on the right descriptor, or at least what felt right to him. “Someone from my childhood.”

“How so?’ Wade pressed, though he wasn’t forceful in his tone, and he pulled Peter just a bit closer. “What did he do?”

Peter still didn’t look up, his eyes tracing the ever changing patterns on Wade’s chest. “It was when I was a kid.”

Wade shifted beneath Peter’s eyes, and his body grew more tense around him. “What did he do?” He repeated.

Peter bit his lip, his teeth pulling hard at the skin in an attempt to relieve the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. “Look, we’re home now, it’s over, he-”

“It’s not over, Petey Pie.” Wade spoke in a serious thick voice, and Peter’s chin was lifted firmly up to stare back into his eyes. “Things like this aren’t... They’re never over. They don’t leave you.”

Peter felt uncomfortably vulnerable, and he made a move to withdraw from Wade, though his boyfriend didn’t allow it. “It’s okay, Wade, we don’t have to talk about--”

“Did he hurt you?” Wade reached down, slipped his fingers between Peter’s, and tried not to notice when he flinched at the action. When Peter didn’t respond, his eyes darkened with the raging storm about to burst. “I’ll kill him.”

“No.” Peter refused to release Wade when he tried to make a move off the couch, anchoring him with strength invisible to the eye. “Seriously It... It was 10 years ago. He went to jail. He did his time. My uncle beat him half to death when he found out.” He winced at the memory, but continued. “I just didn’t expect to see him, so it caught me off guard.”

“You seemed a little more than caught off guard.” Wade wasn’t relenting, and each question had Peter suffocating more and more on his own bottled up emotions he didn’t possess the emotional capability to express. “What happened? Would it help to talk about it?”

“No!”

Peter went wide-eyed, following Wade’s, as they made eye contact. Both seemed equally shocked by his sudden angry outburst, and the brunette fought hard to keep his cool. “Sorry. I’m just…It’s not something I like talking about.”

“I won’t force you, Pete.” Wade finally sighed, and loosened his protective cage on the young adult in order to let him move freely. Silently, he hoped he’d stay. “But just because you don’t like talking about it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

Right. Wade was a stupid psychologist, and Peter was this lost and broken boy that he felt the need to repair.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“I hate when you look at me and talk to me that way.” Peter groaned in frustration, misdirected anger forcing itself to the surface. Peter knew he shouldn’t get angry at Wade, the man just trying to help, but it felt impossible not to when he was the one causing him distress in the moment. “You look at me like I’m… a child?”

“Whoa, hey, Pete-”

“But I’m not a child! I don’t need your smartass comments or your advice or you to treat me like I’m glass. I’m an adult man. I’ve been dealing with stuff like this my entire life! I know how to get by! And it’s not therapy sessions just because I got a little freaked out in a grocery store. I’ve been fine not talking about it for a decade. Why now? Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, Peter-Pie. See what I did there? Here, come here, don’t cry pumpkin, it’s okay. It’s okay. Tell me when you’re ready.”

Peter raised a shaky hand to his cheek, and sure enough his fingers were damp when he drew them back down. Wade scooped him back into his hold, though it was much softer this time,  sitting him across his lap. They sat there in silence, the only noises filling the room being Peter’s muffled sniffling as he did his best to keep his emotions better under control. Eventually the tears ebbed away, and the childish fear that had possessed him was washed over with Wade’s warm light. Wade didn’t dare move or speak until Peter seemed ready to.

“You feeling better?” Wade asked in a soft voice, placing gentle kisses to the nape of Peter’s neck and up behind his ears.

“Mhmm.”

“Do you wanna go back to the bedroom?”

A pause. Peter shook his head, resting closer. “Not yet.”

“That’s fine.” Wade snuggled in, totally okay with remaining as a pillow and blanket for the time being.

“I’ll tell you more eventually.” Peter murmured, dropping his head back against Wade’s shoulder. The ceiling looked further away than before, and he was acutely aware of all the empty corners in their home where someone could be lurking. Yet he felt safer than before, and that in itself meant more to Peter than he could explain. “I can’t right now. But eventually.”

“That’s fine.” Wade kissed his cheek, Peter letting his eyes slip shut. “But I can still kill him?”

“No killing.” Peter grunted. “I don’t like that he’s out now. I don’t like that he’s still around. But you can’t kill him.”

“But-”

“No.”

Wade gave a dramatic sigh but seemed to accept the rule. “Okay, okay, whatever will be best for you. I just want you to feel better.”

Peter did feel better, truthfully. Wade dropped the subject- for now- but didn’t drop his worry, and for Peter, that was enough. They sat there and talked a little longer, deciding eventually to just order takeout and go to a different store another day. And while the subject wasn’t dropped, just put off for the time being, it was comforting knowing it would be reapproached when Peter felt ready to do so. But for now, he could find comfort in knowing there was someone to ward off the ghosts and keep the shadows at bay.