Mentions of drug abuse, domestic violence, suicidal thoughts self-harm, alcoholism, parent loss (If you're going through any of these things, just know that there will always be people to talk to and you're not alone!)
Peter's POV
It was late afternoon, early evening, and the sun was casting a golden glow over the city as I stood high above it, watching everything below. I had already thwarted a guy who tried to steal an old lady’s handbag and stopped someone from shoplifting at a corner store. They weren’t major crimes, but still, I felt a certain pride knowing that I had made a difference, even in those small ways.
After a while, I dropped down onto the roof of a nearby skyscraper and sat on the edge, letting my legs dangle over the side. The city hummed beneath me, and I found myself lost in thought. It had been a few days since I’d last seen Wade. His absence had been gnawing at me more than I expected, and it felt strange—like a puzzle piece was missing. Knowing his real name felt weird, too. Wasn’t he supposed to keep his identity secret? But even with that, I couldn’t stop thinking about him—not in a weird, obsessive way, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to him than I understood. I barely knew him, yet he lingered in my mind, and he still hadn’t told me what his job was.
‘So what, Peter? You don’t need to know,’ I tried convincing myself. But a nagging curiosity persisted. ‘But I do, don’t I? I know he’s not with Havoc, but where did he even come from? And why now?’
Suddenly, a voice broke my train of thought. “Hi, Arachne,” Wade called from behind me, his voice unexpected in the quiet, making me jump slightly.
“Hey, Wade,” I replied, turning to face him as he approached.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then closed it, hesitating before finally speaking. “I forgot I told you my name,” he admitted with a small, almost sheepish smile.
I gave him a nod, awkwardly kicking my feet against the building’s edge, unsure how to respond.
“Whatever,” Wade shrugged, taking off his mask before sitting down beside me, far closer than I had expected. Our thighs nearly touched, and our hands were so close that the barest movement would have had our fingers brushing against one another. I noticed the closeness, and my mind went into overdrive. Too close, I thought. But at the same time, I didn’t move away.
“What are you up to?” Wade asked casually, as if sitting on the edge of a skyscraper at sunset was something people did every day.
“Nothing much. You?” I replied, trying to keep the conversation normal despite the tension I felt brewing.
“Y’know, the usual. Just doing my job,” he said with a vague grin.
There he went again, talking about his mysterious job. It bugged me, and I couldn’t help but wonder—what was it?
“Actually, I don’t know. What is your job?” I asked, more directly this time, hoping to get a straight answer.
Wade chuckled, but I could tell it was forced. “What are we playing, 21 questions?” he deflected with a laugh.
I rolled my eyes. This was going nowhere. There was no point in asking if he was just going to dance around the subject every time.
“Fine,” I sighed. “Tell me more about yourself, then. All I know is your name’s Wade. That’s it.”
“Anything in particular?” Wade asked, a little guarded but not entirely unwilling.
“No, just whatever you’re comfortable with,” I said, trying to be open, hoping he’d share more.
Wade bit his lip, taking a deep breath before he began. “Okay, but this is going to be a bit traumatic, so just remember—you asked.”
I felt a flicker of confusion at his words. What could he possibly mean by that? I shrugged it off, figuring whatever it was couldn’t be *that* bad. I urged him to continue, my curiosity stronger than any concerns I had.
“Okay, so I guess my home life wasn’t exactly ideal,” Wade began, his voice laden with a weight that immediately put me on edge. There was a tension in his words, like he was treading through memories he'd buried deep. “My dad... well, he wasn’t the greatest guy,” he said with a forced laugh, but it was hollow, making something twist in my chest. “He had this really unhealthy addiction to alcohol, and you know how that usually plays out. Every bottle brought out something dark in him.”
He laughed again, but this time, it was more like a sharp exhale, a bitter release.
“I’m pretty sure he hated me and my mom,” Wade continued, his voice taking on a distant, almost detached quality. “It wasn’t like he ever came out and said it directly. It was more in the way he treated us. He didn’t have to say it. He’d lash out at her daily, over the smallest things—a dish not cleaned to his satisfaction, the dinner not being hot enough, a word spoken in the wrong tone. The bruises became normal after a while, and even as a kid, I knew what was coming the second something went wrong.” Wade’s voice tightened, the bitterness cutting through each word. “As for me... every time he looked at me, it was like I was some reminder of a mistake, like I was the reason his life was ruined. He never really saw me. Just the failure he thought I represented.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Wade paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as if trying to expel the darkness clinging to those memories. His hands trembled slightly, though he was doing his best to hide it. “I never understood why he didn’t just leave,” he said, his voice growing sharper, tinged with the kind of anger that builds over years of hurt. “If he hated us so much, why stay? Why drag us through 14 years of hell? Why not just walk away? Why make us suffer every damn day, just because he couldn’t deal with his own demons? I guess I’ll never really know.”
I could see the storm of emotions in his eyes, a conflict that ran deeper than anything I had imagined. When he shifted to talk about his mom, there was a softness in his voice, something more vulnerable but equally painful. “My mom… she tried,” Wade said quietly, as if afraid to speak too loud would break whatever fragile image he held of her. “She really did. She was the only one who ever showed me any real love. But…” He trailed off, looking down at his hands. “She leaned on her anti-depressants like they were her lifeline. Every pill she took was like another shield against the pain, another barrier between her and what we were living through.”
His voice grew strained as he continued. “I tried to take them away once, thinking maybe she could get better without them—maybe we could escape together if she didn’t need them. But that backfired in the worst way. She lost it. She grabbed me, and I swear, in that moment, I thought she was going to kill me. Her hands were around my neck, shaking, and I saw it in her eyes—the desperation. She was just… gone. I realized then that she was as much a prisoner as I was. Maybe even more.”
Wade let out a shaky breath, and for a second, I thought I saw tears in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. “She was scared of him too, you know? But despite all the bruises, despite everything he put her through, she always went back to him. Over and over again. It was like… no matter what he did, she couldn’t break free from him. I didn’t understand it. I still don’t.”
The pain in his voice was undeniable, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to say something, to comfort him, but the words caught in my throat. How could I possibly make this better?
Then Wade’s voice grew even quieter, barely above a whisper, and I could hear the raw emotion welling up beneath the surface. “My dad… he killed her,” Wade said, and my heart clenched in my chest. I hadn’t been prepared for that, not even close. His words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. “She was high, and he was drunk—both of them lost in their own worlds, but they were fighting again. I remember… it was because my mom had finally had enough. She wanted to leave. She wanted out of the hell we were living in. I don’t know what she said to him. Maybe she threatened him, maybe she didn’t. I wasn’t close enough to hear everything.”
Wade’s gaze became distant, his expression haunted as if he were reliving that moment all over again. “All I know is that one second they were yelling, and the next… there was blood. So much blood. It was everywhere, splattered across the walls, pooling on the floor. And she was lying there, just… lifeless.” He swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “I ran to her, but she was already gone. There was nothing I could do. And my dad? He just stood there, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just destroyed everything.”
I could barely breathe as I listened to him, my chest tight with a mix of sorrow and anger for what he’d gone through. I wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that he’d done nothing wrong, but I knew this was something he’d been carrying for years—something no words could ever truly fix.
“After that, he kicked me out,” Wade continued, his voice hollow. “Fifteen years old, nowhere to go, no money, no family. Just… nothing. I had to survive on the streets. And the things I did… the things I had to do to make it… they were things I’d never want anyone to know. Unspeakable things.”
Without thinking, I placed my hand on Wade’s leg, trying to offer him some kind of comfort, even though I knew it wouldn’t erase the pain. “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” I said gently. “You really don’t.”
He looked at me then, his hand reaching out to cover mine. His touch was warm, but there was a slight tremor in his grip. “No,” Wade said, shaking his head. “I’ve already started, so I’ll finish.”
There was a pause, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I guess I took after my mom in some ways,” he admitted, his tone almost defeated. “I’m depressed too. But I don’t take anti-depressants—I just… cut myself. It’s stupid, I know. I’ve got the scars to prove it, but I don’t think you’d want to see them. I’ve been having suicidal thoughts since I was fourteen, and every night, I cry myself to sleep. I know it sounds pathetic, but that’s just… my reality.”
Tears stung my eyes as I listened to him, my heart breaking for the boy he had been and the man he had become. “It’s not stupid, Wade,” I said softly. “You’re not stupid. What you’ve gone through… no one should have to carry that alone.”
He hummed softly in response, a sound that was almost comforting, even in its sadness. “You know what’s really crazy?” Wade asked, his voice a little steadier now. “My dad… he wasn’t even fully human. He was part reptilian. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but it’s the reason my eyes are red, and why I have fangs. It’s also why I have so many scars, but that’s… a story for another time.”
Wade exhaled deeply, as if letting go of something he’d been holding onto for far too long. “So, there you go,” he said with a faint, humourless smile. “Does that help you get to know me?”
“Thank you for telling me that,” I said sincerely, my voice thick with emotion. “Really. It means a lot that you trust me enough to share all of that.”
He nodded slightly, his expression softening. “Wanna tell me something about yourself now?”
I smiled, knowing that what I was about to say couldn’t compare to what he had just shared, but feeling like it was the least I could do to reciprocate his honesty. “My name’s Peter,” I murmured. I knew I wasn’t supposed to reveal my identity, but in that moment, it felt right.
A genuine grin spread across Wade’s face. “Peter, huh? That’s a cute name.”
I nudged him playfully, feeling my cheeks warm beneath my mask. “Shut up,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help but smile.
We continued talking for a while, letting the conversation drift to random, silly topics. It was like a way to lighten the mood after everything Wade had shared. But no matter how much we laughed or joked, what he had told me lingered in the back of my mind. I tried to push it aside, to just enjoy the moment, but the weight of his words was hard to ignore. Still, despite everything, I had never felt so content in my life. Sitting there with Wade, it felt like time had stopped, like I could stay in that moment forever and be perfectly happy. I wasn’t sure what this feeling was, but I knew I didn’t want it to end.
A few hours passed, and the sun had already dipped below the horizon when my stomach suddenly growled, breaking the comfortable silence between us.
Wade looked at me and grinned. “You hungry?” he asked. “What do you want to eat? It’s on me.”
“You don’t have to,” I answered, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Please, I insist,” Wade replied, his tone light but sincere. “It’s the least I could do after unloading all that depressing stuff on you—”
Before he could finish, I acted on impulse. I leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. It was a simple, almost innocent gesture, but it caught him off guard and silenced him immediately. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, we both just stared at each other.
“I’ve got to go, but thanks again for telling me about yourself,” I spluttered, my face burning with embarrassment. I turned quickly, getting ready to run off the building, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Wait, what? Peter, wait!” Wade called after me, his voice full of confusion, but I was already on my way, leaping off the edge of the building before he could say anything more.
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Author's Note!
Hey, my Luvs! It was kind of hard writing this chapter because Wade is sort of like me and I myself haven't really let go of my past, but I hope you guys like the chapter. I don't know what to say; stay tuned for the next one.