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Ned absentmindedly tapped his pencil against the desk, sighing deeply. He turned his gaze to the clock above the door, trying not to let out an audible groan when he saw that algebra was far from over.
He was good at math- he wouldn’t have gotten into Midtown if he wasn’t- but he loathed math class.
He doodled a bit on the side of his notes, tuning out the teacher’s drawling voice. He blinked harshly and stifled a heavy yawn behind his hand.
He perked up at the sound of harsh muttering from right beside him, trying his best to look over without arousing suspicion. Surprisingly, it was Peter of all people who was mumbling to himself. Ned couldn’t quite make out what he was saying (although if Peter were the one in Ned’s position, he definitely would be able to pick out the words, something Ned was extremely fascinated by and perhaps a little bit jealous of), but he caught a word here and there- something about a “key again,” whatever that meant.
“Psst! Peter,” he hissed, keeping his voice down.
Peter jumped, eyes blown wide open as he whipped around to face Ned. Ned couldn’t help the concern he felt for his best friend- it wasn’t like Peter to mumble to himself in public, especially during such a boring class.
“Y-yeah, what’s up?” Peter cringed awkwardly, smoothing down his clothes in what Ned knew to be a nervous tic.
“Um, you good? You’re muttering to yourself,” Ned pointed out, pressing his lips together.
“Ned? Peter? Have something you’d like to share with the class?”
“Um- no! Sorry,” Peter cried, frantically waving his hands around- something that Ned took concern in. The teacher raised an eyebrow but seemed satisfied with his answer, continuing her lecture. “I’m- I’m good, Ned, honestly,” Peter said, making sure to keep his voice quiet.
Ned wanted to point out how suspicious Peter was acting, but he didn’t want to risk spilling Peter’s super-secret-but-also-super-cool identity to the entire class, so he kept his mouth shut. “If you say so,” he said, turning back to slightly-crumpled notes.
Ned didn’t say another word for the rest of class.
.
.
.
Ned knew something had gone down between Peter and MJ, but both of them pretended that nothing had happened. It frustrated him to no end- what was so sensitive that neither of them could tell him about it? Although, if he were being completely honest, he wouldn’t trust himself to keep another big secret, Spiderman was a big enough challenge to keep quiet already. Still, it was frustrating when your only two friends kept you out of the loop on something big.
At first he thought they had kissed or something. It made sense at the time- their relationship definitely changed, although looking back on it, it all started after Peter had a panic attack in English class and ran out of the room crying (he knew that because Flash teased Peter mercilessly for days after), so he didn’t think it was romantic.
Then he thought that maybe Peter was embarrassed about whatever went down in the bathroom, but that didn’t make sense either. If he was, he would have avoided MJ at all costs (Ned knew Peter inside and out- they’d been friends since preschool, after all), but if anything, they seemed closer than ever.
He wasn’t sure what to make of it or what else it possibly could have been until lunchtime rolled around.
He was so relieved to be out of math that he barely noticed when Peter stayed behind, only stopping at his locker on his way to the lunchroom. He did, however, notice when Peter rolled up ten minutes late to lunch, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week.
“Dude, you okay?” Ned asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice. He was still irked about Peter pretending he was okay and hoped his friend would have enough sense to come clean about what was bothering him.
“Yeah, Sanders wanted to make sure I had all the material,” Peter said, collapsing down onto the crappy plastic bench. Ned eyed him suspiciously. Peter shrunk under his gaze and began to pick at his mac n cheese.
“By the way, how’s your injury?” Ned asked, sensing Peter’s discomfort with the situation.
“Better,” Peter answered quickly, clearly happy with the change of topic, “Mr. Stark gave me the all-clear. He’s gonna let me go back out on patrol this weekend.”
“Dude, that’s awesome!”
“Shh!”
“Right, sorry,” Ned grimaced. He took a bite of his peanut butter sandwich and asked, “Where’s MJ? Thought she was with you?”
“Nah, she’s ditching. Decided to go to McDonald’s.”
“She’s ditching for McDonald’s? How’s their food any better than the stuff here?”
Peter shrugged. “Dunno, man. Think she just wanted to get off campus for a little.”
“Understandable.”
The two boys sat in a comfortable silence for a minute or two. Ned kept glancing over at Peter, frowning at the way he seemed to stare out at nothing. Peter blinked a few times, rubbed his eyes, then looked around.
“Sorry, what were we talking about?” Peter awkwardly laughed, shoveling a giant forkful of mac n cheese into his mouth.
Ned furrowed his brow. “Um, nothing? You kind of spaced out for a minute.
Peter seemed to have an internal panic attack for a solid five seconds before he choked out, “Uh- yeah, yeah, cool. That’s- that’s cool.”
An awkward silence fell over the two as Peter shoveled down his mac n cheese, Ned picking at his own food. Ned kept glancing up at his friend, trying not to let his worry bleed onto his face.
“So, uh, you and MJ seem really close now, huh,” Ned pointed out, trying to start up another conversation.
“Hm?” Peter looked up from his almost-finished lunch, then seemed to register what Ned had said, “Oh, yeah. I guess so."
Ned nodded, contemplating what to say next. “You guys dating or something?”
Peter nearly spat out his chocolate milk. “No, nonononono, oh my god no. I mean- MJ’s pretty and she’s really cool and- we’re just friends.”
Ned stifled a laugh at Peter’s reaction. “So what happened? You can’t leave me outta the loop here, dude.”
“Mm, I guess we just naturally got closer,” Peter shrugged. “I mean- me bawling my eyes out on the bathroom floor could be a possible explanation.”
Suddenly it all made sense.
They were bonding over shared trauma.
Why did MJ get to talk about that kind of stuff with his best friend? That was something only Peter and Ned did, and it was usually at 3 am while eating a bag of marshmallows with a random Star Wars movie on mute in the background, not while panicking over an English presentation in a grimy public bathroom with someone who wasn’t Ned and oh god he needed to stop spiraling down this train of thought this was so so toxic and Peter was his best friend how dare he think of him and MJ that way and-
>Peter cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go throw this out,” he said, awkwardly standing up.
“Oh- oh yeah,” Ned grimaced out an uncomfortable smile. “See you in chemistry?”
Peter’s smile softened, seeming less forced than before. “Yeah. See ya.”
So Ned knew why Peter and MJ were suddenly closer, but he still had no idea why Peter was acting so weirdly. God, he was going to have to confront Peter about it, wasn’t he?
Ned grimaced. He hated confrontations, but it had to be done. He needed to figure out what was wrong with his best friend.
.
.
.
Ned didn’t know why Peter seemed so spaced out the entire day- he’d texted May to see if Peter hadn’t slept well or something, but according to her, he passed out after finishing his homework and slept like the dead the entire night.
He seemed to zone out and snap back a total of five times just during woodshop- something that made Ned even more worried than he was at lunch.
“Hey, Peter? You feeling okay?” Ned asked, setting down his soldering iron.
Peter took a minute to register that Ned had said anything, then seemed to snap back into his senses. “Hm?” he muttered groggily, pace paling a bit.
“I asked if you’re feeling okay,” Ned repeated.
Peter dragged a hand down his face, muttering, “‘m fine, Alex.”
“Alex?”
Peter snapped his head up, “Shit- ignore that,” he said, shaking his head. His face screwed up in the way Ned knew meant he was feeling queasy.
“I’m gonna ask if I can take you to the nurse,” Ned furrowed his brow, reaching over to unplug the soldering iron. He unplugged the hot glue gun (which Peter was dangerously close to bumping his arm into) and tugged Peter to his feet.
He expected some kind of protest, but he was surprised when Peter only nodded. Ned’s concern grew stronger, but he pushed it down in lieu of helping Peter to the front of the class. “Um, Mr. Hapgood?”
“Yes?” The teacher didn't even bother to look up from his crossword puzzle.
“Can I take Peter to the nurse? He’s not feeling good.”
Mr. Hapgood looked up from his puzzle, raked his eyes over Peter’s form, then looked back down. “Take a hall pass.”
Ned tugged Peter out into the hall, making sure to keep his pace slow so Peter could follow. He was starting to zone out again, eyes glazing over. He rubbed his face, squeezing his eyes shut, then snapped back into himself. He looked around, confused, but followed Ned nonetheless.
Ned burst into the nurse’s office, letting go of Peter but making sure he was following him inside. “Hey, um, excuse me?” he called.
The nurse (Ned couldn’t remember her name) peeked her head out from one of the rooms where a student lay fast asleep on a cot. “What’s goin’ on, honey?” she asked, reaching into her pocket for a mini container of hand sanitizer. “Ted, right?” She squirted some onto her hands and rubbed it in, dropping the container back into her pocket.
“Um, Ned,” he corrected, “uh- my friend Peter isn’t feeling good?”
The nurse turned her gaze to meet Peter’s half slumped-over form, a hand on her hip. “Symptoms? I wanna make sure it’s not Hand, Foot and Mouth. We’ve had sixteen students go home this week.”
“He’s been really spacey all day,” Ned explained, helping Peter sit down in a chair, “and he’s kinda queasy.”.
“Peter, have you slept enough?”
Peter nodded.
“Did you eat lunch?"
Another nod. “Mm.”
“Hm. Maybe it’s stress. Here, I’ll just take your temperature real quick, then you can take a Tum and I’ll call someone to take you home. That sound good?” The nurse reached up into a cabinet and pulled down a thermometer and a packet of what Ned assumed were Tums.
Peter nodded, staring off into nothing again. He blinked, slow and hard, then dragged a hand down his face, looking around the office. “Um, where am I?” he asked in a small voice, sounding almost scared.
“You’re in the nurse’s office, Peter,” the nurse said, pressing a small pink chewable tablet into Peter’s hand. She swiped the thermometer across his forehead and waited for the beep. “Alright, your temperature’s okay. Want me to call home?”
“Um, Auntie May isn’t home right now,” he said almost childishly. Ned only stared- since when had Peter referred to May as “Auntie?” “You can call Mis-Misser Stark.”
“Last name?” the nurse asked, slipping behind the desk. She stared expectantly at him.
Parker.”
“Peter Parker,” she murmured, leaning closer to the screen. “Ah, here you are. Tony Stark, emergency contact?” She raised an eyebrow. Ned nodded furiously.
“Yes, that’s right.”
She looked skeptical but dialed the number on the screen anyway. She pressed the speakerphone button and Ned anxiously waited for the man to pick up, not knowing whether he would or not. Tony Stark was a busy guy, right? He owned a company, he was probably in meetings all the time-
“Hello?”
Ned breathed a sigh of relief.
“Hi, Mr. Stark?”
“How’d you get this number?”
“I’m Leslie Stewart, I’m calling from the nurse’s office at Midtown Tech.”
“Is Peter okay?”
“Yes, yes, he’s fine, just feeling a little under the weather. A classmate brought him in, said he’s been zoned out all day and is feeling queasy. He’s not running a temperature, and I gave him a Tum to help with the nausea, but he’s clearly not able to go back to class. Are you available to swing by and pick him up?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Ned sucked in an anxious breath, drumming his fingers against his leg.
“Yeah, I’ll have someone drive down. Mind if I talk to him privately for a sec?”
“Sure. Peter?” Ms. Stewart turned off speakerphone and handed the landline over to Peter.
Ned waited impatiently while Peter and Mr. Stark talked, trying not to listen in. He was curious, sure, but he knew Peter’s and Tony Stark’s relationship had a lot of private things involved and he didn’t want to get in the way of that by eavesdropping in on their conversation. He picked at the lint on his sweater, only catching bits and pieces every so often- things like “yes,” “no,” and, most frighteningly, “I don’t know what’s going on, Mr. Stark.”
Eventually Peter gave the phone back to the nurse and scooted back in the chair, pulling his legs up to his chest. He buried his head in his knees and wrapped his arms around his legs, seemingly uncaring of what anyone thought of him.
“Alright, see you in a few. Bye.” Ms. Stewart hung up the phone and turned back to Peter. “Mr. Stark will be here in fifteen minutes to pick you up. Why don’t you go get your things and head down to the lobby, okay?”
Peter nodded miserably and scooted off the chair. He swayed in place for a second or two, rubbed his face, and looked around.
“C’mon Peter,” Ned said, reaching over to tug on Peter’s arm, “I’ll get your stuff. You can go wait by the office.”
Peter nodded, still appearing confused, but followed nonetheless. Ned tried to avoid swiveling his head around to look at Peter as he disappeared in the general direction of the office, but he couldn’t help it. His face pinched in concern. Something was wrong with his best friend, and it killed him that Peter wasn’t letting him in on what it was.
Ned hurried to Peter’s locker, dialing in the combination and yanking it open. Luckily all of Peter’s stuff was in there- they weren’t allowed to bring their backpacks into Woodshop for safety reasons (aka the school didn’t trust a bunch of sophomores to not shred and/or destroy their school supplies in some way during a class where they had access to multiple sharp and dangerous tools). Ned really didn’t feel like going all the way back to the other side of the school just for Peter’s backpack. He shoved Peter’s books and papers into his bag and zipped it up, slinging it over his shoulder and slamming the locker shut with enough force to make him wince.
As he paced in the direction of the front office, Ned felt a frown tug across his face. Peter was acting so weird today and he desperately needed to know why. It was almost frustrating- why wouldn’t Peter just tell him what was going on? Was he a bad friend? Did something happen at home? Did Peter suddenly decide that MJ was a better best friend than he was? Did Flash’s taunt finally get to him? Was Ned doing something wrong? Was-
Oh. He was in the lobby.
Ned swiveled his head around and quickly located his best friend, jogging over to him and flinging his backpack onto the floor in front of him. Peter turned to look at him, eyes refusing to leave Ned’s figure as he collapsed down beside him on the bench. Ned stared at the floor for a moment, then turned to look up at Peter, who was spaced out for the millionth time.
Peter took longer to snap out of it this time. He kept closing his eyes, gripping the fabric of his pants tightly as he controlled his breathing for what must have been at least two minutes. Finally, after what felt like three years, he blinked, sitting up to look around.
That was the moment Ned decided enough was enough.
“Peter.”
His friend turned to look at him. “Yeah?”
“What the hell is going on with you?”
Time froze. Everything faded away around them until it was only Peter and Ned in the empty lobby, no receptionists or students lingering before the bell or parents coming in to pick their kids up- only Peter and Ned.
“I’m tired of this. You’ve been acting really weird all day- actually, you’ve been acting weird for weeks now, and I can’t take this anymore! You’ve been spacing out and you look terrible and I just want to know what the hell is up with you! I’m your best friend, Peter, I can’t stand seeing you like this!”
Peter only stared. He bit his lip, several emotions that Ned couldn’t quite pick out flashing in his eyes, before he sighed.
“There’s a reason,” he admitted quietly, fiddling with his hands in his lap, “but I can’t tell you right now. You can stop by the apartment tonight- bring MJ, if you want. I’ll tell you everything, I promise.”
Peter looked up at Ned with such sadness and remorse in his eyes that Ned’s angry face softened into something understanding yet still cold.
“Okay. But you better tell me what the hell is going on, Peter. All of it. Or you can’t work on the Death Star set with me.”
Peter nodded, face pinched up. “You’ve got a deal.”
Ned stared back down at the floor. Both boys sat in silence, the sound of the clock above the front doors of the school and the receptionists clacking away at their keyboards the only noises that permeated through the air.
Ned sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. Peter spaced out again.
“Pete?
Ned and Peter looked up at the same time. The receptionists gaped as Tony Stark himself walked in, decked out in an oil-stained AC/DC t-shirt, sweatpants, sunglasses, and sneakers. Ned waved him over, too worried about his friend to fanboy over his idol.
“Hey Pete,” Tony said in a soft voice Ned knew was meant for Peter and Peter only, “heard you weren’t feeling good.” Tony knelt down in front of Peter, placing a hand on his knee in sympathy. Ned watched in fascination as Peter seemed to truly relax for the first time that day.
“Mm.”
“Why don’t we head back to the tower, and I’ll bring you home later? That cool with you?”
Peter nodded, sliding off the bench. Tony helped him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to keep him steady and upright. “Alright, Underoos. Happy’s waiting out in the parking lot, and your weighted blanket’s in the car.”
Peter nodded again, his once miserable expression morphing into something more genuinely exhausted, yet still grateful.
“Bye, Ned,” he waved, his voice tinged with an upward, almost child-like lilt.
Tony turned to face Ned, seemingly realizing for the first time that he was there. “Good job, Ted,” he said, flashing a thumbs-up with his free hand, before helping Peter out into the parking lot.
Ned stared after them for a moment, twiddling with his fingers, then sighed and went back to class.
.
.
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Ned knocked hesitantly on Peter’s front door later on that night, MJ behind him. She leaned all of her weight onto one foot, a hand on her hip, scrolling through Instagram. Ned stepped back a bit, lips pressed in a firm yet nervous sort of determination.
May answered the door, a warm smile on her face. “Hi Ned, hi MJ. Come on in! I’ve got some chips if you guys want anything to eat.”
“Um, no thank you, I just had dinner,” Ned politely declined, stepping into the dingy old apartment.
MJ made a beeline for the kitchen, snagging the aforementioned bag of chips. “Suit yourself, loser,” she shrugged, tossing one into her open mouth. She glanced at May, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation. Ned stared in confusion. “How’s he doing?” MJ eventually asked, uncharacteristically serious.
“He’s been switchy all day, according to Tony,” May sighed, pushing a lock of long brown hair behind her ear. Ned cocked his head to the side at the mention of the unfamiliar word- what the hell did switchy mean?
“He in his room?”
“Yeah. He took a nap earlier, I think I’m gonna keep him home tomorrow. You guys should probably go back and talk to him- he told me you guys were coming over to talk to him.”
Ned nodded and thanked May, walking through the hallway until he reached Peter’s bedroom. MJ trailed behind, stuffing the half-empty chip bag into the pocket of her sweatshirt. Ned knocked softly on the door, calling Peter’s name.
“Come in,” came Peter’s voice, tired and groggy.
Ned twisted the handle and went inside. Peter sat at his desk, fiddling with a LEGO figurine. His eyes flickered up to meet Ned’s gaze, then turned to acknowledge MJ. “Hey guys,” he said, nervousness obvious all over his face.
“Are you feeling any better?” Ned asked awkwardly, settling down on the bed. The bedframe creaked under his weight- when was the last time Peter had replaced it? MJ climbed up to the top bunk and settled there, legs swinging over the side.
“Yeah, a little,” Peter said softly, “I’m tired, though.”
“Look, Peter, I don’t wanna waste any time with this, so can we just get right into the conversation?”
Peter flinched a little, but nodded. “Yeah, um… I’m not really sure how to begin.”
“Take your time,” MJ encouraged, “I can explain it for you if you want.”
“Actually that’d probably be better,” Peter laughed nervously, letting out a shuddering breath that gave away his anxiety. Ned could feel his own heart begin to speed up in anxious anticipation of what information he was about to be given.
“So, uh, you know what trauma is, right?” MJ asked rhetorically. Ned nodded. “Basically, Peter's been through a lot of it. Thing is, he doesn’t remember any of it- well, actually that’s a lie- he remembers a little bit.”
Ned took a moment to process what she said. “Wait wait wait, Peter, why didn’t you tell me that you were dealing with something traumatic? Dude, I would have understood-”
“Did you hear what I just said, loser? I said he doesn’t remember any of it.”
Ned’s brow furrowed. “How can you just not remember trauma?”
“You know what dissociation is?” Peter asked. Ned nodded- he’d heard the term once or twice. His older sister had something like that. “Well, basically, I went through so much trauma that my mind just… dissociated to the point where I didn’t remember any of it.”
Ned blinked. “Oh."
“And- that’s not everything,” he continued, turning his gaze onto the LEGO figurine on his lap. He ran his fingers over the surface and fiddled with the figurine’s limbs. “MJ? You’re better at explaining things than I am.”
“Duh,” MJ snorted, “anyway. Peter has something called Dissociative Identity Disorder. It’s also known as DID. Basically, he went through so much trauma before his personality fully developed, and it broke into pieces- kind of like if you dropped a glass bowl and it shattered. With me so far?”
“Wait, you’re saying that Peter has different personalities? Like in Switch?”
“Um- that’s a really bad example, but the idea is the same,” Peter cut in. “My ‘personalities’ are known as alters. They’re not dangerous, they’re actually really nice most of the time. They’re like annoying siblings.”
Ned turned his wide eyes down to the floor, the information failing to process for a solid minute or two. The three friends sat in complete, dead silence until Ned spoke in a croaky, hesitant voice, “and you never told me about this?”
“I have a lot of amnesia,” Peter explained hurriedly, “and I only got diagnosed two months ago. I was planning on telling you, but… to be honest, I was nervous,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react. But today you made me realize that I was wrong in keeping it from you.”
Ned’s eyes pricked with tears. “H-how did you find out?”
“I’ve always had gaps in my memory,” Peter said quietly, “long periods where I couldn’t remember anything. I could hear voices in my head. I thought it was normal, I thought I was just blacking out. It was frustrating but I didn’t want to burden May and Ben with my problems, so I just… didn’t tell them.”
“What made you get diagnosed?”
“I woke up in Stark Tower,” Peter laughed, “I had no idea what happened. Mr. Stark said I was caught in an explosion. I blacked out, and woke up back in the apartment. Then I just kinda… told May. And it’s history from there.”
“And you’re just… okay with having this personality thing?”
“It’s… complicated,” Peter sighed, “and it’s still really hard to come to believe sometimes. But I’ve been working on communicating with the system, and it’s… we’re getting there, I think.”
Ned nodded, head spinning with new information.
“I’m really sorry for not telling you sooner,” Peter apologized quickly, sensing the building tension in the room, “but I just-”
“It’s okay, Peter,” Ned smiled tightly, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes, “you were probably terrified. My sister has some dissociation disorder too, it took her years for her to muster enough courage to tell us.”
Peter stared. Ned sighed.
“I’m not mad at you,” he said, “just… trying to process everything, that’s all. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, but now…” he blinked. “It’s all adding up now. All those times your personality seemed to switch, when you punched Flash, at the homecoming dance, that English presentation- it all makes sense now.”
Peter nodded, a tiny smile etched onto his features. “Yeah. It clicked for me too, like- the exact same way,” he laughed softly.
Ned nodded, the room lapsing into another silence.
“So, um, which… alters? Yeah, which alters have I… met, I guess?”
Peter breathed a sigh of relief at the mention of a new topic. “Well, you’ve definitely met Spiderman. I was really shocked that you knew about it, to be completely honest.”
“Wait wait wait, hold on- you’re not Spiderman?!”
Peter chuckled. “No, I’m not. Spidey’s a really nice guy, when you get to know him better. He’s reckless and shit at talking to people, but he’s really kind of sweet sometimes.”
“Right, right,” Ned muttered, “so Peter is not Spiderman. Got it. That’s- whoooo boy that’s a lot to process.”
“Spiderman’s a loser, just like both of you,” MJ taunted from the top bunk.
“Careful,” Peter turned to look up at her, “I don’t think he’s completely over that time Mr. Stark and I insulted him until he came out.”
“Wasn’t that like, last month?” MJ asked, thoroughly amused.
“He holds grudges,” Peter shrugged.
“Wait, why would you make him come out?” Ned asked, puzzled.
“Spidey is shit at telling other people about things,” Peter explained, “I was tired of failing Spanish because he stayed out until three in the morning.”
Ned nodded. He was still struggling to comprehend everything that had just happened within the span of ten minutes.
Noticing his bewildered expression, Peter hurried to say, “don’t worry. You’ll understand it more as time goes on. You’ll get to meet everyone soon enough.”
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just… a lot to take in,” Ned croaked, “my best friend since preschool has a mental illness where he shares a body with other people because he went through serious trauma… that’s just-”
“Yeah,” Peter said grimly, “it’s not easy. But you’ll learn as you go. I mean- look at MJ. She’s pretty cool with it now.”
“For the record I’ve always been cool with it,” MJ cut in, her reputation at stake, “I figured it out weeks beforehand. It only took Finley bawling his eyes out under the sinks for me to be one hundred percent certain about it.”
Ned rolled his eyes. “Uh huh.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Michelle.”
“MJ.”
“Michelle.”
“You’re insufferable, Parker. Leeds, back me up here.”
“Sorry MJ, I’m with Peter on this,” Ned joked, “there’s no way you knew before he said anything.”
“Are you doubting my deductive abilities? I’ll have you know that I beat God and took his place with nothing but a paperclip and a pack of gum and I won’t hesitate to do the same to you."
Ned wheezed, doubling over to clutch his stomach. Peter giggled lightly beside him. Ned looked up, making brief eye contact with his best friend.
‘I’m glad you’re not angry,’ his eyes seemed to say.
Ned’s face softened as his laughter died down. He reached forward to wrap Peter in a hug.
“Thanks for trusting me with this, dude.”
Peter smiled softly. “Yeah, of course.”
Ned hesitated for a moment. “And- please let me know what I can do to help,” he said, “I don’t want to be left out of the loop ever again, you hear me?”
Peter nodded, hugging him back.
“Yeah, I hear ya.”
Ned smiled. “Good.”
The room fell silent. MJ swung her legs, crumpled up the empty bag of chips, tossed it lazily towards the door, and slid down from the top bunk and onto the bottom one. She sat next to them for a moment, awkward, then leaned her head against Peter’s shoulder.
“You’re both sappy losers,” she said, no hint of malice in her tone.
Ned laughed quietly. “You keep telling yourself that, Michelle.”
MJ lightly punched him. Peter snorted softly.
Ned was still confused, but he felt a weight that he never knew was there before lift off of his shoulders. Everything would be okay now. It wouldn’t be smooth sailing, but he knew what Peter was going through now and could try to help him, and that was all that mattered.
