Wade to Peter

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"Why am I terrible?!"

"Wade, oh my God, you are such a child."

"Tell me! Why am I-"

"Are you driving?"

"Yes! Obviously!"

"Oh my- This! This is why!"

"How is this terrible?! You told me to come get you! Make up your mind!"

"You can't talk on the phone and drive you fucking idiot that's how people fucking die and I am not picking up your severed head from the scene of some goddamned car crash just because you were too petty to wait five minutes to have this fucking conversation."

"Uh..."

"I- That was mean. But seriously how many times have I told you not to call me in the damn car?"

"Uh..."

"How many times, Wade?"

"Many. But- Okay real quick when you talk fast like that you sound just like Tony. And also you must be pretty upset because you're cursing and you like, never do that, so, what did I actually do, besides call you in the car, which, I'm literally a mercenary, I can handle being on the phone and driving a car, I can shoot people and drive a car and talk on the phone with my eyes closed."

"You actually cannot do that. For many reasons, the first of which being you can't actually drive very well in the first place so your eyes would need to be open. And where are you that it's taking you this long to get here?"

"I'm like- I don't know. This city confuses the shit out of me. I'm on my way. Start listing your complaints."

"Okay, you know what, you can go fuck yourself with that tone."

"Well you said I was terrible, so-"

"Fine, you wanna do this? Fine. How about, answer your phone, like, ever? And don't ignore me for three days and then start a conversation without explaining where you were?"

"I told you I was-"

"In Jersey, but you said you would be back in 12 hours and I don't hear from you for three days which basically means you're dead, Wade, and I can't find my suit so I have to swing around at night in a ski mask looking for you, and the guy at that shitty dive you drown yourself at every fucking week says last time he saw you you were covered in blood and some chick dragged you out into the street and put you in a car, and you can't just not talk to me because I will assume you are fucking dead and that isn't something you can do because you have people who will miss you and you have to answer your goddamned phone, Wade! I always answer the phone, and you know why, because I live in this delusional fantasy land where we give a shit about each other and you care if I'm fucking dead, so I answer! The God! Damned! Phone!"

"Oh my God."

"Just get here already."

"You love me!"

"That is all you- That's what you got from that whole thing?"

"Okay, I am so sorry, I briefly lost my phone and forgot to call you, and I maybe need to remember to do that more, but you love meeeee!"

"Wade, you already know that, of course-"

"No, but I mean like really! You thought I was dead! You were freaking out!"

"This close to breaking up with you."

"You can't because you loooooove me."

"Jesus Christ, are you always like this?"

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