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There was nothing more beautiful than a supermarket in very early morning, in Peter's honest opinion. The shelves upon shelves of food, right in his grasp, the too bright neon lights, the complete, eerie silence save his quiet footsteps, not a soul in sight. Truly the most beautiful of sights.
Actually, now that he reconsidered, that was probably the half asleep part of his brain talking.
His slippers made a flat clapping sound as he made his way across the store. A Walmart employee, looking as tired as he felt, mumbled a quick "good morning" his way, a greeting which Peter only managed to register and return in a timeframe that was nowhere near socially acceptable.
To be fair, it was 2am.
If insomnia was going to play tricks on him by not allowing him to fall asleep and his Parker luck meant that they were fresh out of the one food he was currently craving, well, Peter had decided to kick both their asses by going to the store -regardless of how early it was- and getting some of it himself.
It had seemed like a way better idea while lying in the comfort of his bed compared to now, but he'd come all this way here so he might as well make the most out of it, right?
Peter rounded the corner to the cereal aisle and came upon a man having a crisis.
Or at least, that's what it looked like from here. Though he figured that anyone who kept shaking and feverishly questioning a box of Shredded Wheat was not doing A-Okay.
As much as Peter was able to sympathize with this man, he was ready to give him a large girth. You never knew after all, and whoever kept talking to a unicorn keychain didn't exactly fit the definition of "stable" in Peter's books. He did not want to run into trouble at this ungodly hour.
Unfortunately for Peter, the sole thing he'd come here for, the Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal which he may or may not have an addiction for, was sitting on the shelf right next to the Shredded Wheat this man seemed to have a severe grudge against.
Peter stopped a few feet behind said man, who was either ignoring him or still hadn't noticed him, and figured that if he waited a few seconds and timed it right, he could skirt the wild arm waving the man had started and safely get his Cinnamon Toast Crunch whilst avoiding confrontation. A stellar plan, really.
The man, who Peter had deemed Crisis Man for the time being, seemed to have calmed down, or at least momentarily, so Peter quickly stepped forward and grabbed the first box standing on the shelf. As he made a move to walk away, an unexpected resistance yanked on his hand, and he looked back to see Crisis Man holding the other end of the same cereal box.
Rude, but Peter didn't have the time to argue with a stranger over a particular cereal box.
Peter released his end and turned to grab a second Cinnamon Toast Crunch box, only for his hands to paw empty air. He frowned, pulling his hand back, and scanned the shelf up and down. There were no Cinnamon Toast Crunch boxes left.
It turned out Peter absolutely had the time to argue with a stranger over a particular cereal box.
Peter cleared his throat to indicate that there was a problem here, but Crisis Man, having finished being angry at the Shredded Wheat, was already shuffling away towards the end of the aisle
"Excuse me" Peter called aloud.
This time, Crisis Man stopped, turning to Peter questioningly. The man's hood had been up before, covering his head, but now that Peter could see him clearly, Peter realised he could be having a completely different problem on his hands.
See, Peter was about 90% sure the person he was currently looking at was Deadpool.
Peter's mind spun as he tried to pull up a mental image of Deadpool and compare it to this man. Deadpool's identity was public, right? Peter had seen articles about him in the news, and, horrific crimes he committed aside, could vaguely remember him being described as horribly scarred. Crisis Man over here had that in common but surely that wasn't enough to pin him as Deadpool?
He wondered if he could pull out his phone for a quick Google search into Deadpool. Honestly, what were the odds of him meeting him at the supermarket? He'd never even met him once while Spidermanning.
He realized inwardly he'd been staring at Crisis Man without saying a word. Fuck, he probably looked rude as hell.
"That's my cereal" He said finally, in an attempt to break the awkwardness.
Thankfully, Crisis Man didn't seem perturbed by the staring, simply looked from the box in his hands to Peter.
"Okay this is quite clearly in my hands"
"I grabbed it first"
"But then you let go" Deadpool but maybe not Deadpool countered.
Peter's resolve hardened. Fuck it, Deadpool or not, this man was wearing unicorn slippers on top of the unicorn keychain and a bathrobe Peter would never be caught dead in and Peter would never be able to forgive himself if he lost his cereal to him.
"Well, first of all that was a dick move on your part to grab the box in my hands and besides, I only let go because I thought there were more"
Crisis Man scanned the aisle, eyes landing on the empty spot on the shelf. "Oh this is the last one? Better luck next time kid"
He made a move to turn away.
Not so fast.
Peter dashed in front of him.
The man stopped and gave him a look that clearly said. Really? You're really gonna do this?
The answer was, fuck yes.
Crisis Man attempted to skirt around him, but Peter quickly latched onto the man's arm with one hand. He hadn't wanted to come to this, but Crisis man was not cooperating.
The man just kept walking, paying Peter attached to his arm no heed, probably expecting his superior strength to win over a scrawny teenager and be able to drag himself to the cashier.
He hadn't counted on said teenager being Peter, though. Peter grinned as his feet stuck to the ground and they came to an abrupt stop. Spider powers sure came in handy.
The man turned, his face a mask of annoyance and confusion. He tugged his arm, but neither Peter's hand nor his shoes would budge.
"Kid, I'm going to ask you once to unhand me"
Peter raised an eyebrow.
"If I do, will you run or can we talk this out properly?"
The man waved a hand dismissively. "Yea, talk it out, whatever"
Cautiously, Peter let go.
The man held Peter's gaze for a few, tense seconds.
Then he bolted.
Peter chased after him, cursing. Supermarkets are one of the best possible places to go if you're trying to lose a tail, a lesson Peter learned the hard way as he attempted to follow Crisis Man dashing through the aisles. Thankfully, thanks to a combination of Peter's enhanced hearing and speed, he managed to surprise Crisis Man by the frozen goods aisle, once again grasping wildly for a hold and catching the man's sleeve, then willing his feet to stick.
The sudden jar into stillness from the previous high speed chase sent them both sprawling, the cereal box slipping from Crisis Man's grasp and skidding across the floor.
Seeing his chance, Peter darted forward. He yelped as Crisis Man pulled him back by one leg, but managed to shake him off and acquire the cereal box, huddling on the floor against a nearby freezer door.
So much for avoiding confrontation.
"What the fuck was that? What do you have on your shoes, glue?" Crisis Man gasped.
Yea oops, maybe he'd been a bit too obvious with that. Peter hugged the cereal box safely to his chest.
"Now are you ready to discuss this civilly?"
"What part of that was civil?
"I'm not the one who ran away like a madman!" Peter cried.
Crisis Man lay on the ground.
"Oh fuck you" he groaned.
Peter rolled his eyes.
"So, since I'm a nice person, I won't run away and will attempt to reason here. Now, why should you get the cereal?"
Crisis Man raised his head.
"If I stare at you unnervingly for long enough will you go away?"
"Not a chance, Crisis Man" Peter said.
He hadn't meant to say that last part aloud. But the nickname had stuck and he'd done it unthinkingly. Well, at least he hadn't called him Deadpool.
Deadpool looked insulted. Peter wasn't 100% sure this was actually Deadpool, but he needed a better name than Crisis Man.
"What did you just call me?" Deadpool asked indignantly.
"..nothing?"
"Crisis Man? Excuse me??"
"You were verbally and physically assaulting the Shredded Wheat! That's a crisis" Peter defended.
"It deserved it!"
Well, maybe so but that wasn't the point here.
"What should I have called you then?" Peter challenged.
"By my name?"
"Why the fuck would I know your name?"
"You could've asked??"
Peter's head hurt.
"Why the fuck would I ask a random person in a Walmart for their name? Who does that?"
"I don't know but it's better than horribly insulting someone by calling them in such a way"
Horribly insulted? Really?
"I'll let you know that even if I was having a crisis, it was a very contained crisis and also none of your business Bathrobe Boy" Deadpool added.
Peter sputtered. "I'm not the only one wearing a bathrobe here-"
"Well, you asked for it, Bathrobe Boy"
If Peter had had any doubts that this was Deadpool, they were long gone.
"Out of all things you could've called me, you went for the bathrobe?"
"Yes, bitch"
This conversation was going absolutely nowhere.
Peter tried to concentrate. "Okay whatever let's go back to the cereal."
"Yea, and you haven't given me a single reason for why you should get it either"
"Why should you?" Peter countered.
Stalemate.
"What were you going to use it for, anyway?" Deadpool asked.
What kind of fucking question was that.
"Uhh, to eat it??"
"Fair enough, didn't think that one through. Point to Bathrobe Boy" Deadpool muttered.
"This RAISES MORE QUESTIONS" Peter yelled. "What were you going to use it for if not to eat?"
"I was going to eat it" Deadpool said defensively.
"Then why the fuck ask that?"
"I mean, if you really think about it, there are other uses for cereal-" Deadpool began.
"Yea I'd rather not" Peter cut him off.
Then curiosity got the better of him. "Like what?"
"Have you seen those people repairing sinks with instant noodles? Same concept."
Peter stared.
"Okay first of all, you know those videos are fake, right? Second of all what the fuck?"
"What DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE FAKE"
Peter was this close to losing it. "This is giving me even less incentive to let you have the cereal"
Deadpool pointed in a direction Peter very much suspected was random.
"Look kid, there's a Target across the street. Go get your cereal there. Shoo."
"You go." Peter challenged.
"No."
"Why not"
"I'm not losing my cereal to a child"
Aha.
It had become a matter of pride here.
Peter's spidey senses pricked. "A Walmart employee is coming this way"
"And?"
"And you're lying on the floor and I'm practically sitting in the freezer we should move"
"There is no we here."
Peter stood up. "Fine I'm going and I'm taking the cereal, you can come if you want."
Peter walked into the first aisle he came upon that he was sure the Walmart employee wouldn't enter, a condiments aisle, Deadpool following begrudgingly.
Distracted as he was by checking on the employee -he didn't need yet another person involved in this-, Peter's grip on the box relaxed, enabling Deadpool to pluck it right out of his hands.
"Hey!" He yelped.
Deadpool rolled his eyes. "Relax, I'm not going anywhere. But you've had it for enough time already, it's my turn now"
Peter supposed that was fair, but that didn't mean he had to like it. He kept a close eye on Deadpool. Considering his previous sprint, he didn't trust him one bit.
"I wonder if someone sent that retail worker specifically to check up on us or if they were just passing by" Deadpool mused, leaning nonchalantly against a shelf as if it weren't full of precarious glass jars.
Peter eyed the jars, wondering if he'd have to make a wild leap to save them eventually.
"Why would they come looking for us?"
Deadpool's voice oozed sarcasm. "Oh I don't know, it's not like we just ran around the entire store or anything"
"Which was your fault" Peter pointed out.
"Yea whatever. That was before, when I thought I could get away with escaping with the cereal"
He looked at Peter suspiciously. "But you're weirdly fast and have a really good grip"
Oh fuck he was onto him.
Luckily, Deadpool seemed to lose all his previous suspicions in favor of giggling uncontrollably.
Peter was getting very concerned about Deadpool's mental wellbeing.
"Oh my God-" Deadpool gasped. "Can you imagine-"
More, very unnerving laughter before Deadpool managed to complete the sentence.
"Can you imagine what that chase must've looked like from security cameras"
He broke into another fit of laughter.
He was laughing so hard he physically had to put the cereal box down to brace himself against the shelf with both hands.
Peter saw his chance to regain the upper hand.
He dashed at Deadpool, meaning to grab the cereal and run away to a safe enough distance.
He ended up having his legs swept out from under him and sliding helplessly across the floor until he slammed into the shelves, causing multiple tubes of ketchup to rain down on him. At least they were plastic tubes and not the glass jars. Silver lining or whatever the fuck.
And maybe he should have thought the "trying to jump Deadpool" part of it through.
Deadpool started laughing even harder.
"Oh my God- did you see that? Did anyone see that? Holy fuckballs did you really think you would have succeeded?" He looked around to see if there was anyone to share this Oh So Wonderful moment with, though thankfully for Peter, there wasn't.
Peter got up, brushing ketchup bottles off him and glared at Deadpool.
"It might've worked." he said, trying to summon an ounce of dignity.
"Do you knOW WHO I AM" Deadpool yelled, having lost what little patience he'd had to begin with.
Fuck yes, bitch.
Unfortunately, Peter couldn't say that.
"I. AM."
Deadpool stopped abruptly in the middle of his grand revelation to dig into the pocket of his bathrobe for something.
Peter gave him a quizzical look.
"I know it's here somewhere" Deadpool muttered, patting his pants and trying the other pocket of his bathrobe while Peter stood awkwardly.
Finally, a black and red cloth emerged, crumbled in his hand, which Deadpool pulled onto his face.
Now clad in the Deadpool mask, a bathrobe, slippers and clutching cereal, Peter was sure Deadpool thought he looked way more impressive than he actually did as he triumphantly proclaimed.
"I. AM. DEADPOOL."
Peter wasn't sure what the appropriate reaction to this should be, but he tried his best to look surprised and shocked.
Deadpool squinted at him through the mask. "You know, the more time passes the more I'm convinced you're just a figment of my imagination"
Maybe he'd done a worse job than he'd thought.
"Is there a problem here?" a voice asked.
Peter and Deadpool both whipped around to see a Walmart employee, probably the same one they'd evaded earlier standing a few feet behind them.
"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to ask both of you to, uh, keep your voice down?" She phrased what should've been a respectful order like a question, staring at them.
Peter could imagine the scene. One teenager, in a bathrobe, and a full grown man, also in a bathrobe and slippers, the latter at the very least wearing an authentic looking Deadpool mask, and at most actually being fucking Deadpool, arguing over a box of cereal while nowhere near the cereal aisle. There was also the matter of the ketchup bottles on the floor. Peter probably should've picked those up after he'd knocked them down.
"Hello" Peter said, attempting to seem civilized. One of them had to make an effort here, and it certainly wasn't going to be Deadpool.
"I'm- uh, I'm sorry, what's going on here?" The lady asked.
Peter pointed at Deadpool. "He stole my cereal"
"It's not your cereal" Deadpool shot back.
Peter mimicked him, mouthing "It's not your cereal" back at him and rolling his eyes at the employee.
"I'm assuming it's the last box?" She asked, side eyeing Deadpool.
Peter nodded. "Unless you happen to have more of them in stock?" He added hopefully.
She pursued her lips. "I doubt it, but I can check"
Peter and Deadpool waited in tense silence as the employee walked off.
"So, that proves you're not just a hallucination" Deadpool said finally.
Then he gasped. "Unless the lady is a figment of my imagination too!"
Peter picked up one of the ketchup bottles from the floor, setting it back onto the shelf.
"..How minor did you say your crisis was?"
"First of all, rude. Second of all, you're a weird fucking kid Cereal Boy. How did the Deadpool card not get to you?"
Peter stacked a second bottle onto the shelf. "How do I know it's not cosplay?"
Deadpool sputtered.
With his back turned to stack ketchup bottles, Peter grinned. "In fact" he continued, turning back to Deadpool, "I'm sure the real Deadpool could've gotten his way easily and just fucked right along and gotten out of here."
"What can I say, I didn't want to get blood on my favourite bathrobe. It's not red. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get bloodstains out of things that aren't red?"
Well, that was horrifying.
"Also, I'm not an asshole to kids." Deadpool added sourly. "Which, unfortunately, you are"
Peter tipped his head, unsure how to answer that. "Nice slippers"
"I know that's sarcasm but I choose to take it as a compliment, Possible Figment of my imagination."
"It's better than Bathrobe or Cereal Boy, I guess" Peter muttered.
The employee returned soon after, empty handed, which was an answer of it's own.
"Aw c'mon" Peter groaned.
"I'm sorry" she said helplessly.
"What are we going to do now??"
"Fight to the death" Deadpool proposed.
Peter shot him a glance. "You wouldn't be rude to me because I'm a kid but you have no problem fighting me to the death?"
"I have limits, kid. I may draw the line at being rude but fighting to the death is inside the limits. Also, you're a pain in my ass. I should've been home with my cereal by now."
Peter blinked. "You need to get your priorities straight"
Deadpool shrugged.
The employee's gaze kept flickering between the two of them, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else.
Finally, her gaze rested on Deadpool. "Sir I'm going to have to ask you to remove the mask."
"I can, but you're not going to like what's under it"
"I'm sure it's fine." she said firmly.
Deadpool shrugged, pulling it off and stuffing it back into his pocket.
The employee did an impressive job of not flinching at seeing his face.
"Okay, can't one of you get a different cereal? It might not be the same exact brand, but I'm sure we have various cereals that look and taste similar, if not identical to the one you both want."
She glanced around, only now realizing they were nowhere near the actual cereal aisle. "Why are we in the ketchup section?"
"Don't check the security tapes." Deadpool said cheerfully.
"It's a long story" Peter quickly interjected, glaring at Deadpool.
"Okay so, is either of you willing to take another cereal?"
Peter felt bad for her, he really did. But there was no way in hell that he could say yes, and he said as much.
Deadpool nodded in agreement.
She clasped her hands, her face getting the look Peter knew all too well from personal experience as the "I want to smack someone but I don't want to get fired" look.
"It's okay, we can figure this out on our own" he said, taking pity on her. "We'll, uh, keep our voice down and everything"
The relief was visible on her face.
"Why'd you send her away?" Deadpool asked once she'd gone.
"Felt bad. Retail is hard enough without having to deal with your shit."
Deadpool pulled the mask back on.
"My shit? This is quite clearly your shit."
Peter squinted at him. "Why'd you put your mask back on? And seriously, can you take it off? It's weird not seeing your face while I talk to you."
Was this what talking to him in the suit was like? Not that it happened often, but damn, all facial cues were out of the window.
"Funny, I usually get more people asking me to put the mask back on as opposed to the other way around. Also, no."
"Why not?"
"Establishing dominance."
Peter sighed.
Peter refused to draw straws. Both because he knew Deadpool would rig it, and because frankly, he trusted his luck as far as he could throw a commercial airplane, and he wasn't about to risk it.
By now, an hour had passed.
"For all your establishing dominance, you're still here" Peter said, laying on the floor and staring at the lights.
"Fuck you. You're just lucky I'm having a crisis enough to bear with this."
"The Crisis Man returns" Peter muttered absently.
"Asshole"
Deadpool was also laying on the floor, clutching the cereal.
"I wonder why we haven't seen anyone else." Peter said aloud.
There were shuffling sounds from where Deadpool was. "It's 3 am what do you expect"
Peter raised his head slightly. "3 am? Hand it over."
Deadpool groaned, but nonetheless slid the cereal box over to him.
"Don't get too attached, I'm getting it back in ten minutes."
"We cannot go on like this forever" Peter said.
Silence.
"Flip a coin?" Peter suggested absently.
"I have a better idea."
Peter was fine with anything at this point
"What's that?"
"Sword"
"What?"
Checking out was a process Peter could only begin to describe as awkward.
Peter and Deadpool stood rigidly a few feet apart, the cashier glancing at them curiosity as she checked out their three items. The Cinnamon Toast Crunch box, a box of the first Cinnamon Toast Crunch knock off cereal brand they'd agreed on (the box was pink and that alone had sold Peter), and a single roll of duct tape.
At least Deadpool had finally taken off the stupid mask.
The second they walked into the parking lot Deadpool pulled a katana out of fucking nowhere.
Peter had to give him props for somehow having managed to conceal a fucking sword on him.
"Ready?" He asked Peter.
Peter nodded, holding the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch horizontally like a karate board.
In a flash, Deadpool swung the katana down the middle, separating it cleanly in half, and Peter immediately turned the two box halves so that the severed part faced upward, exposing the cereal and preventing it from falling out. Despite the fact he'd moved as quickly as possible, some cereal had still spilled out.
Peter placed the two cereal box halves on the hood of a nearby car and they repeated the process with the pink box. Now with four half boxes, Peter picked up one half of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch box and one half of the pink one and smashed their open ends together, unwrapping the duct tape with his teeth and wrapping it generously around the box halves, sealing them together.
He passed the tape to Deadpool, who repeated the process with his own two boxe halves.
The original plan had been to just buy the one box and split it in half. Then Peter had argued that he'd come all the way to the grocery store, he was going home with at least a whole box of cereal. Frankensteining the boxes had been the compromise. It was possibly the worst solution to the problem ever, but it was a solution nonetheless.
Peter and Deadpool eyed each other warily, each clutching their respective taped together cereal boxes.
"So."
Deadpool broke the awkwardness.
"Who's keeping the duct tape"
A tense silence followed.
Well fuck.
