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Ned fiddled with the phone in his hands, running his fingers over the screen several times over. MJ shot him a weird look but went back to picking her cuticles. “Nervous, dipshit?”
“Huh?” Ned’s head shot up, eyes wide, before he registered what she’d said. “Uh- yeah, a little bit,” he said breathlessly, “why aren’t you?”
“Because Tony Stark’s a loser,” she said pointedly- hats off to her for bluntness, he guessed.
“Only you would think Tony-freaking-Stark is a loser,” Ned shot back.
“Not true. There’s thousands of people who still aren’t happy about him selling deadly weapons to highly dangerous terrorist organizations.”
“MJ that was years ago.”
“Doesn’t make him any less of a loser,” she shrugged.
Ned shakily sighed, leaning back in the cheap plastic chair in the lobby. He turned his phone off and on several times, switching rapidly back and forth between apps, before he settled for simply checking the time. According to his phone, it was currently half past noon, meaning Peter was fifteen minutes late.
“The meetup time was twelve-fifteen, right?” he nervously asked, adjusting the collar of his button up.
“Mhm.” MJ glanced up at him. “Don’t worry, he’s probably eating lunch or something.”
Ned nodded quickly, smoothing out his clothes. MJ huffed and sat back in her chair. “One would think a billionaire would be able to afford better quality chairs than this,” she grumbled, standing up a bit. Ned grimaced as the fabric of her pants stuck to the seat. “Great,” she muttered, “I just love having my clothes plastered to chairs via my bodily fluids.”
“Don’t phrase it like that,” Ned grimaced, “that’s gross.”
“Y’know what’s also gross? The state of the economy in America. Eat the rich, y’feel?”
“Uh… huh,” Ned tentatively agreed, genuinely having no clue what she was on about. “Sure.”
MJ huffed, plopping back down. “This country’s on the brink of collapse, Leeds. By the time we’re fifty, Capitalism’ll have taken its toll.”
“No offense MJ, but I am genuinely confused by whatever the hell you’re saying.”
“I’m saying we’re fucked.”
“That’s great,” Ned stood up, “I think I’m just gonna ask the receptionist if we should just go up or not.”
“Or you could text him,” MJ pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world- which, it probably was.
“That-that works too.” Ned opened his phone again and tapped out a message for Peter.
Ned: dude, where are you?
Peter took just milliseconds to reply.
Peter: sHIT
Ned: we’ve been waiting down here for like 20 minutes!
Peter: DHIT
Peter: ILL BE DOWN IN LIKE TWO SECONDS DFNREJDFIBGVIDF-
Ned breathed a sigh of relief. “He lost track of time,” he informed MJ, who nodded.
“Figures.”
Not even a minute later, Peter burst through the elevator doors, covered head to toe in some powder that Ned didn’t think he wanted to know the contents of, and hurtled himself over faster than what was probably humanly possible (which, knowing Peter, it probably was faster than what was humanly possible).
“Peter! Dude, we’ve been sitting here for so long that my ass is basically glued to the chair,” Ned huffed in mock annoyance, standing up again to greet his friend.
“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” Peter gasped breathlessly, “lost track of time. Mr. Stark and I’ve been working on upgrading my web shooters, and, well- let’s just say the last attempt didn’t go so well.” Peter grimaced, finally having caught his breath. “I’ve been scrubbing the walls for almost an hour.”
“That’s a yikes from me,” MJ snorted, standing up. She fist-bumped Peter- since when did Peter give out fist bumps?- and placed her hands on her hips. “Sup, Spides?”
“Spides…?”
“That’s a new one,” Peter laughed, then turned to face the both of them. “C’mon, we gotta get back to the elevator before some R&D intern steals it and takes forty minutes to find the correct floor.”
“That’s happened before?” Ned squeaked, hurrying to trail after Peter like a baby duck.
“Oh, yeah,” Peter grinned, “Some new kid got lost on his first day. Took me like an hour to get up to the lab.”
The three friends piled into the elevator, racing to see who could press the button for the 70th floor the fastest. MJ won- of course she did- leaving Ned and Peter to sulk.
Around the halfway point, Peter seemed to space out. He squinted his eyes shut, staring off at nothing in the way that told Ned that he was about to switch. MJ didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. Ned tried to keep the concern out of his voice when he squeaked, “you okay dude?”
Peter didn’t answer. He sucked in a breath, rubbed his eyes, and then seemed to snap awake.
“Gah, that’s gonna leave me with a migraine,” they grumbled, rubbing their forehead. The new alter looked around, seemingly recognizing their current location.
“Sup, IM?” MJ tossed her head up in greeting.
“Wait wait wait, you can tell them apart?” Ned grabbed her shoulders and shook her.
MJ pushed his hands off of her and adjusted her ponytail. “Uhhh yeah. You can’t?”
“No?!”
“As entertaining as this conversation is, can you two please shut up?” the alter groaned. “FRIDAY, dim the lights.”
“Sure thing.”
“So, uh, who’re you?” Ned asked, trying his best to keep his voice quiet.
“Not really sure,” the alter said, squinting, “I think I’m Iron Man, but Spidey’s definitely somewhere in here.”
“Iron Man?!” Ned squeaked shrilly.
“Shh!” the alter hissed.
“Sorry!”
“Wait, did you just say Spider-Man’s here?” Ned blurted out as the realization behind Iron Man’s words sunk in.
“Spider-Man’s the one who’s been out until now, dumbass,” MJ snorted. She tugged her drawstring bag off her shoulders and pried it open, reaching all the way down to the bottom until she hit something that… rattled? Seconds later, her hand emerged from the bag, carrying her triumphant prize- a bottle of Advil. “Need some?” she asked while Ned’s head spun from the attempts at processing that holy shit one of Peter’s alters was freaking Iron Man!!
“God yes,” Iron Man eagerly took the bottle, shaking out three pills and swallowing them dry.
“Is that healthy?!” Ned squeaked, his voice shooting up by an octave and a half.
“Pro'lly not.”
“Touché,” MJ smirked.
The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival. The doors slid open to reveal the magnificence of the private lab floor- a floor solely built for Peter [er- the system, rather], Tony, and occasionally Doctor-Freaking-Banner.
God, no matter how many times he came up here, he’d still never get used to this.
“Hey Ted, hey MJ,” Tony- Tony Stark!!- greeted pleasantly. His face turned sour. “Iron Man.”
“FRIDAY, you traitorous scumbag,” Iron Man grumbled, rubbing his forehead.
“It’s a part of my programming now to inform Boss whenever a switch occurs,” FRIDAY’s cheery voice flooded through the room, “it’s known as the Goddammit Which One Of You Is Out Now Protocol."
“How the fuck do you-”
“There’s a lot of signs, Boss Two: Electric Boogaloo,” FRIDAY answered, almost teasingly, “including changes in blood pressure, heart rate, demeanor, personality-”
“Wait wait wait- what the hell did you say?”
“I said that there’s a lot of signs-”
“No, what the hell did you say my name was?”
“Boss Two: Electric Boogaloo?”
MJ and Tony burst into a fit of uproarious laughter, both doubling over. “Oh my god, who set it to that?!” MJ cackled.
“Pr-pretty sure that was Spiderman,” Tony laughed, wiping a tear away from his eye with the tip of his finger. “Whoo! Good one, FRI.”
Iron Man looked irritated. “You two are both assholes,” he grumbled, “I’m gonna go collapse on the couch. If any one of you wakes me up, I’m going to shove you out the window.”
Iron Man slapped Ned firmly on the back and sauntered off to one of the living room, where he then proceeded to face plant onto a particularly comfortably-looking sofa.
Tony turned back to Ned and MJ, his laughter having completely died down by now. “Well, uh-” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “Spidey wanted to watch a movie with you guys, so if you wanna go do that…”
Ned almost laughed at how awkward Tony- Mr. Stark? Which one was more polite? Ned was just gonna say Tony- was being, but he was currently preoccupied with trying not to freak out because holy shit that was Iron Man in Peter’s body and oh god he needed to stop freaking out over everything nothing should even be surprising anymore and-
“Ned? Yoohoo? Don’t freak out on us just yet,” Tony flicked his forehead. Ned jumped.
“U-uh, yeah. Um, can we watch Star Wars?”
“You two can decide on that,” Tony pointed at Ned, then at MJ, “I’ll be in the lab if you need anything. Oh, if you’re watching the fifth movie, make sure to mute it around the, y’know, big plot twist.”
Ned nodded, confused out of his mind, but MJ seemed to understand. “Sure,” she shrugged, grabbing Ned’s arm and dragging him over to the living room.
Ned awkwardly took a seat on the couch cushion next to where Iron Man (IRON MAN!!!! Ned still wasn’t over that) was sleeping with a pillow over his face.
“Jus’ keep it down,” he mumbled, turning to face the back of the couch.
“Of course, sir!” Ned squeaked.
“Yo FRIDAY, play The Empire Strikes Back,” MJ said, flopping down on the couch and propping her feet up on the coffee table.
“Sure thing, Michelle.”
Surprisingly, MJ didn’t correct the AI.
That was new.
Ned tried to tune out his endless stream of fanboy thoughts over Iron Man (who had since fallen asleep and was snoring quietly) by focusing one hundred percent on the movie. MJ got up about ten minutes in to grab a bowl of Cheetos (how did she even know where Tony kept them?!), holding out the bowl so he could grab a handful.
About halfway through, MJ’s phone buzzed. She picked it up, her eyes widening, then jumped off the couch, shoving the almost-empty bowl of Cheetos in Ned’s general direction. “Shit, I forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“My mom’s visiting today,” she said, slinging her drawstring bag over her shoulder. "See you on Monday, loser.”
“Wait, don’t leave me alone with Peter, I’m still new to this whole alter-DID thingy, you’re supposed to help me!” Ned cried frantically.
MJ rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine, if he wakes up just ask who’s fronting. You can always call Tony for help.”
“Right, right,” he muttered to himself, dropping the plastic bowl onto the carpet, “ask Tony-mother-freaking-Stark about my friend’s mental illness. Got it.”
“Bye, loser.”
“U-um, bye MJ.”
Ned watched as MJ disappeared into the elevator, then turned to look down at the sleeping form of his best friend. He let out a shaky sigh and ran a sweaty hand through his hair, leaning back onto the couch.
Everything was going fine for about fifteen minutes- Ned remembered to mute the “I am your father” scene, Peter- Iron Man?- slept soundly on the couch, and Ned was feeling significantly (well, significant was a bold word to use) less panicky about the whole situation. Well, it was, until Iron Man stirred, rubbed his face, and woke up.
He looked around, face twisting in confusion, and blinked. His eyes filled up with tears, and that was the moment Ned realized Iron Man had switched out.
“Um, hey?” he greeted, cringing at his hesitant tone.
The alter jolted, eyes full of tears, and stared at Ned. “H-hi,” they stuttered. They blinked again and wiped their eyes, sniffling and trying to pull themself together.
“I’m Ned, do you… do you know if we’ve met before?"
The alter nodded, sitting up. “You’re Peter’s friend,” they said bluntly.
Ned nodded, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Yeah. Um… what’s your name?"
“I’m Kaylee.”
"How old are you, Kaylee?”
“Twelve.”
“That’s pretty neat. I’m fifteen."
“I know,” Kaylee said. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”
“In his lab,” Ned explained, trying to keep the panic out of his voice, “he probably knows you’re out by now. Um… do you want me to go get him?"
“Okay,” Kaylee mumbled, rubbing her arm.
“Alright. Uh, I guess stay right here until I get back?”
“Why don’t you ask FRIDAY?”
Ned blinked. “Hadn’t thought of that. Um- FRIDAY?”
“Already on it, Ned.”
Ned smiled. “Th-thanks, FRI.”
“No problem.”
Moments later, Tony burst through the door, wiping his dirty hands off on his equally dirty t-shirt. “Kaylee?” he asked, jogging over to the couch. “Hey, kiddo. How’s it goin’?”
“I’m not a kid,” she muttered.
“Of course you’re not,” Tony went around the couch so he could sit on Kaylee’s other side. “How ya feelin’?”
“Spacey,” she said quietly.
“Alright. I’ll get you some water. Need anything else?”
“I’ll get it myself,” she said, cheeks burning. “Be right back.”
“Sure.”
Ned watched as she disappeared into the kitchen area before he breathed out a shaky sigh.
“I take it you haven’t met everyone yet,” Tony said, causing Ned to flinch.
“Um- no sir. Only Peter and a couple others.”
Tony let out a soft laugh. “There’s a lot of ‘em.”
“H-how many?” Ned asked quietly, trying to keep Kaylee from hearing their conversation.
“I’m not sure,” Tony answered, “I think there’s fifteen or something- I can’t keep track. Even Keagan doesn’t know for sure if he’s met all of them.”
“Why would Keagan know? Whoever he is?”
“He’s their gatekeeper,” Tony explained, “keeps track of a lot of things. He controls who gets in and out of the inner world, the others go to him with complaints, he holds a lot of memories- he’s the Pepper of the system.”
Ned let out a laugh at the metaphor. “Right, um-”
“You’ll get to know ‘em soon enough,” Tony interrupted his next thought, “I’ve barely met half of them.”
“I mean- for two months, sir, that isn’t that bad,” Ned stammered.
Tony snorted. “Maybe. God, only two months? Feels like a lot longer than that.”
Ned opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Kaylee walked back into the room, carrying a half-full glass of water in one hand and toting a heavy-looking blanket behind her with the other.
“You found it,” Tony mused, sounding impressed.
“Uh-huh,” Kaylee nodded, plopping down on the couch, “Peter told me where it was. He’s co-con right now.”
“What does that mean?”
“Um, well, Peter says it’s kind of like being in shotgun,” Kaylee explained. She paused, then continued. “Like… I’m in the driver’s seat and I can control the car. And he’s in shotgun. He knows what’s happening, but I’m the one driving.”
That was… surprisingly articulate for a twelve year old.
“That makes sense,” Ned said. “That’s kinda cool.”
Kaylee shrugged, taking a sip of her water. “When did the movie pause?” she asked, turning to look up at Ned.
“I think FRIDAY paused it a few minutes ago,” Tony explained, picking the forgotten Cheetos bowl up off of the floor. “FRIDAY, do the honors.”
“Of course, Boss."
The movie unpaused, Luke’s rescue scene playing softly. Tony turned up the volume. “Is your headache gone?” he asked, nudging Kaylee’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “It went away right after Iron Man went back.”
“He’s got my migraines then,” Tony sighed, “figures.”
Kaylee hummed. “Ned, get under the blanket with me,” she demanded, throwing the blanket over his shoulders. Ned almost folded in half from the sheer weight of the thing.
“Is this thing packed with bricks?” he gaped, adjusting it around his shoulders.
“It’s not called a ‘weighted blanket’ for nothing, kid,” Tony snorted.
That was a weighted blanket?! And Peter slept with this?! Every night?!
He shifted his shoulders even more, then looked over at Tony, who caught his gaze and offered a smirk. Kaylee rested her head against Ned’s shoulder, eyes glued to the movie. Ned tensed up for a moment, then relaxed.
Maybe his life was super weird, but as he looked around at the stupidly domestic scene- watching a movie with a kid in a teenager’s body and one of the richest men in the world- Ned realized that he didn’t mind that.
He didn’t mind it at all.