Chapter Text
A hand squeezed his with a stern firmness.
"Peter, you're not falling asleep on me, are you?" The question was half joking, half on the edge of panic.
Peter blinked twice and made an affirmative noise at the back of his throat. "Yeah yeah yeah, m'up. M'awake."
Mr. Harrington squeezed his hand again. "I mean it, Peter, I really--"
"No, I understand, really. But I wasn't falling asleep, I promise. I was just resting my eyes."
That earned Peter a weak huff. "Resting your--yeah, well I'd prefer it if you'd rest your eyes at home. Can't be too careful."
Peter's mouth formed a line, but he nodded. Really, he was feeling a lot better now, but he knew he had to play the part. He already raised a few eyebrows when he came in with a half-healed scar on his head. When asked about it, he quickly offered up the idea that maybe the injury wasn't as bad as everyone thought it was, under all the blood.
Admittedly, It wasn't his best excuse, but the adults seemed to buy it. Mr. Harrington sheepishly chalked it up to blowing things out of proportion in the heat of the moment, so…that helped? Eh, well.
Now he was lying on a cot, propped up by a few pillows. Mr. Harrington had pulled up a chair beside him and grabbed hold of Peter's hand, not once letting go. It was one of the most bizarre situations he'd ever been in--which was really saying something.
"Are you okay, Mr. Harrington?" Peter asked after a long pause. It was kind of a dumb question, seeing as Mr. Harrington was growing paler by the minute. The Nurse had given him a bottle of water to soothe his nerves, but it didn't seem to have much effect.
Mr. Harrington paused and stared down at him for a long minute. "What--you mean, am I--" He dropped his head, uttering a long wheeze that worried Peter. "Peter, I am not the one with a head injury, so yes. Yes, I am fine…" He bit his lip, his foot tapping on the floor. "at least until your guardian gets here."
"Oh. O-okay then, cool." Peter glanced at Mr. Harrington's once crisp white button down shirt. A crease formed between his eyebrows. "I'm really sorry about your shirt." he nodded toward the ugly red stain he left behind. Mr. Harrington looked down. "Oh, it's…it's only a shirt, Peter. It's alright, don't worry about it. Now please, just…rest." He hovered his free hand over Peter, as if it would keep him from leaving the cot. "But not too much! Obviously."
The final bell rung, signifying the end of the day. Buzzing conversations soon floated its way into the infirmary as students filled the halls outside.
"What you did was very brave, Peter," Mr. Harrington said with quiet earnest. He smiled despite his nerves. "Very brave, and very kind. Extraordinary, even. I couldn't be more proud."
Peter smiled a little. "Thanks, Mr. H."
At that moment, there was a sudden commotion out front. Mr. Harrington twisted his head around. "What’s going on out there?"
Thanks to his enhanced hearing, Peter knew exactly what it was, but to Mr. Harrington, he offered up a clueless shrug.
"Hey, you can't go in there!" said a sharp voice. The door that lead from the Nurse's desk office to the infirmary swung open, revealing a winded and red-faced Ned.
"Peter!" he cried joyfully. Peter's backpack was clutched in his hand. What a good bro.
Nurse Powell quickly rounded on him, grabbing his arm. "Young man, unless you have a--"
"No, no, Judy, it's alright," Mr. Harrington said, waving a hand. "Mr. Leeds can stay. He's a close friend." As soon as he said those words, more footsteps sounded against the floor. In seconds, the doorway was packed. Nurse Powell's lips pursed as the whole Decathlon team crowded around her, creating a tight space. She looked back at Mr. Harrington, eyebrow raised. "So I guess these people are all close friends too, huh?"
Peter stared, a little bit stunned. "Uh…hey guys!" He made to sit up more, but Mr. Harrington pounced on him. "Ah ah ah. Don’t even think about it." He gently pushed Peter back onto his pillow before he could get any further.
MJ casually stepped further into the room, and Nurse Powell ultimately threw up her hands and left when the other students followed her. Michelle stood above Peter and stared down at him, her expression unreadable. Then, she held up an index finger and lightly dragged it along Peter's thick bandage, which was practically huge enough to cover his right eyebrow. "Well, good news, Peter. You don't look like total crap, so…" She dropped her hand, meeting his gaze. "I guess we'll see you at practice next Wednesday."
Peter stared at her a moment before shaking his head. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'll be there, don't worry."
Michelle reached out and placed both hands on either side of his head, holding it steady. "A simple yes will do."
Mr. Harrington seemed to perk up at the sight of all his students, blissfully unaware of how awkward the room just became. "How nice of you all, checking up on Peter. He's fine, by the way, not to worry. Just a concussion and a scratch, really." He blew out a bit of air. "Thank goodness for that."
Ned visibly relaxed, despite being the only one in the room to know about his healing powers. Peter smiled softly at his tender-hearted friend. He hated making him worry.
"So, he's…fine?" Charles questioned, looking really confused. "Are you sure? 'Cause that was seriously gnarly back there. I mean, we all saw it, right?" The rest of the team either nodded or made sounds of affirmation, except for Flash. He stood awkwardly off to the side with his hands in his pockets, his gaze constantly shifting from Peter to the floor.
Weird.
"Uh…Peter's always kind of been a fast healer!" Ned offered up. "E-Ever since we were kids, Peter rarely even got sick."
"Then why did he call in sick for two weeks after that field trip to OSCORP last year?" MJ said, eyebrow raised.
Peter and Ned froze.
"Well, all that matters is that the injury wasn't too serious," Cindy said, inadvertently saving the day. "You do feel better, don't you, Peter?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Peter said, still holding Mr. Harrington's hand. "Thanks. Thanks for coming, I really appreciate it."
Sally made a sound with her tongue. "So brave," she said, nudging Peter in the chin with her hand.
"Yeah, not everyone would voluntarily rescue Flash," Abraham said with unrestrained glee. Mr. Harrington sent him a reprimanding glare, and Flash suddenly grew very interested in the painting on the wall.
Charles nudged Peter. "When you come back, I'll show you a picture of me in a coma. Out of body experience, man."
"Oh! Speaking of pictures!" Cindy held up her phone. "Do you mind?" Before Peter could say anything, Cindy practically shoved her way past Mr. Harrington and crouched down by Peter's bedside. Grinning from ear to ear, she put her cheek next to Peter's and angled her phone. "Smile!"
The flash went off, and Peter blinked owlishly at the lingering spots that danced in the air. "Oops. Forgot to take off the flash. Looks good though!" Cindy said cheerfully.
Yep. This was definitely the weirdest day of his life. Just then, another figure appeared at the doorway.
Mr. Harrington raised his eyebrows. "Sir? Can I help you?"
Happy removed his dark sunglasses, his hand in his pocket. "I'm here to pick up Peter." Everyone but Ned turned their heads and stared at him incomprehensibly. Peter just grinned. "Hey, Happy!"
Happy dipped his head toward Peter, unsmiling. "You ready to go, kid?"
"Yep!" Peter grunted as he sat up, but Mr. Harrington pushed him back down, surprising him. "I'm sorry, who are you? Mr. Parker has exactly one guardian and you're not--"
"His Aunt sent me to pick him up," Happy said, sounding bored. "Chill out, relax. Chop chop, kid, I'm parked in a red zone."
Peter nodded, but Mr. Harrington pushed him back down again. "Mr. Harrington," he said, not knowing whether to laugh or groan. But Mr. Harrington wasn't alone this time.
In seconds, a good chunk of the Decathlon team either sat on the edge of his bed or stood in front of him, casting various looks of suspicion and doubt in Happy's direction.
And to his absolute shock, Flash sauntered up to Happy, his gaze almost accusatory. "Oh, yeah?" Flash challenged, looking Happy up and down with folded arms. "What's her name then?"
Happy raised his eyebrows slightly, his expression the same. "And just who are you?"
"Seriously, it's fine," Peter said quickly, finally wiggling out from Mr. Harrington's hold. He swung his legs over the side and made a mental note to stand up slowly. Granted, he was still a little dizzy, but he still managed to keep a firm balance.
The students stepped back to give him space to move, and Mr. Harrington offered his arm for Peter to grab. "Are you sure, Peter?" his teacher asked, his eyes screaming the words Do I need to call security?
"Yeah, Peter, seriously, who is this guy?" Sally said, and Happy rolled his eyes, hard.
"Oh, Happy? He's…he's um…" Peter paused, desperately thinking of a good excuse. "He's…my…Uncle!"
Everyone stared at Peter while Ned silently snorted behind his hand. "Your Uncle," MJ repeated flatly. "Really."
"Y-Yeah! On my Mother's side," Peter added quickly.
Happy made a sound that resembled a laugh, but thankfully played along. "Yeah. Can't you see he's got my chin?" His shoulders bounced as he let out a single genuine laugh this time. "C'mon, kid, seriously. Grab your backpack and let’s bounce."
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Peter said, inwardly wincing at how high his voice cracked. As Ned handed him his backpack, Mr. Harrington walked over to Happy. "Well, this is quite the development! Hello, I'm Roger Harrington, I'm Peter's teacher."
Happy sighed deeply but shook Mr. Harrington's hand as he continued to ramble on. Meanwhile, the team crowded around Peter as he said goodbye to each of them. "Seriously, if you're in trouble, squeeze my hand twice," Cindy said in a hushed voice as she shook Peter's hand.
"No, it's fine, it's all fine, trust me," Peter whispered, offering what he hoped to be an assuring smile. He looked at Flash, who only stared back at him. Intently.
Okay, this was starting to creep him out a little.
"Sure. Just remember Stranger Danger Peter," Abraham said, clapping him once on the back.
Peter felt a laugh bubble up inside him. "Really, though, thanks, everyone. You didn't have to come down here, but you all did and--"
"Okay, time to go," Happy interrupted, stepping past the students and wrapping his arm around Peter's shoulder.
"Oh, okay. Bye, everyone. Oh, and Ned--"
"Tell him later."
"And Mr. Harrington, I really--"
"Aaand we're gone!" Happy announced loudly as they quickly left the Nurse's office.
"Bye Peter!" Peter heard Ned call out.
As they marched down the hall, a girl with a microphone hustled up beside them. "Excuse me! Sir, excuse me! Hey, we’re with the Student News!" she said, gesturing toward a boy running beside her with a video camera in his hands. "We heard about an incident in the library, and we were wondering if we can get an interview--"
"Nope." Happy wasn't having it.
"But--"
"I swear, these bozos get younger every year," Happy muttered under his breath. Then, like he's done the action a thousand times before, Happy turned sideways and threw up an arm, giving both him and Peter a clear path to the exit. In no time at all, they descend down the school steps and make it over to the car.
"Now, what's this all about, hm?" Happy asked as Peter clicked his seat belt. "Why didn't you call your Aunt May to pick you up?"
Peter ducked his head. "May has an important shift tonight. I didn’t wanna be the one to pull her away, you know? I knew you were already close by, running errands for Mr. Stark, so…I just thought, you know?" Peter bit his lip. "Are you sure you don't mind?"
Happy shrugged as he started the engine. "Told you in the text, kid. The less time I spend in a designer shop choosing between fabrics, the better."
Peter let out a sigh of relief and sank back into his seat. "Thanks again, Happy, thank you."
Happy let out a grunt as he pulled out onto the road. Another thought entered Peter's mind, and he sat forward, placing his hands on either side of Happy's seat. "By the way--you're…not gonna tell Mr. Stark about any of this, right?"
Happy let out another chuckle. "Seems I don't have to. There's a certain photo circling around of a teacher carrying an injured student in his arms."
Peter fell back and groaned, his hands covering his face.