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Peter had always been Ned’s best friend. He’d moved into Ned’s school after his parents died, and they’d bonded quickly over their love of Star Wars and lack of other friends. They did everything together, except Spiderman. But it wasn’t long before Ned found out about Peter’s secret identity, and then they did that together, too. And when half the universe crumbled, they even did that together. Although it sucked that it had happened, Ned was just grateful that neither of them had had to endure 5 years without each other.
Unfortunately, there were other repercussions from their brief hiatus on life.
***
Ned’s eyes searched the hallway. Students chatting excitedly, milling about. Everyone was excitedly talking about the blip. What happened, where everyone was when it happened, how they were feeling being back.
But Ned wasn’t really paying attention. He was looking for a very particular person, dread filling him when he didn’t see the familiar curls and science pun t shirt. Had Peter not blipped and gone on to college? They hadn’t talked much; there hadn’t been time. Ned had heard about Tony, and knew Peter would be busy helping the man recover, and wanted to give him space. So aside from a quick check in to let each other know they were safe, the two hadn’t talked. He didn't know what he would do if Peter wasn’t in his class anymore.
He gasped in relief when he saw the mop of curls, matching relief filling the eyes on the face beneath those curls.
Ned didn’t know why he was crying, but suddenly sobs shook his body as the pair collapsed into a hug. He continued to sob as the enormity of the situation hit him. He’d lost Peter. They had died , then came back to life, then Peter could have died again fighting in yet another battle. Ned was suddenly very scared for his friend, but took a steadying breath, forcing his fears back so Peter wouldn’t see.
“Hey man, you good?” Peter asked, concern written very clearly across his face.
“Yeah, yeah. Just glad to see you. Glad you’re safe.”
Peter smiled, softly, slinging an arm around Ned’s shoulders. The contact helped ease the fears even more, grounding Ned and reassuring him that his friend was okay. “I think we have History together first period. It’ll be strange to see who is in our class now!”
“Yeah, man. I heard that Brad is in our class now. Remember that skinny little freshman?”
“Davis? Yeah, I remember him. I heard he's a star on the basketball team now. How crazy is that?”
The pair continued to chat as they made their way down the hall to the classroom, and quickly took their seats next to each other, quieting as the teacher stood at the front of the room.
“Hello, and welcome back class. I know that it’s been a very strange time, and even stranger from recent events, but there is no better comfort than learning history!”
The teacher dove into the syllabus, going over the class and the assignments. Ned zoned out; he’d heard it all a million times before, and began playing tic tac toe, hangman, and other games with Peter. His attention was pulled back in when he heard the name “Rochambeau” and he immediately wanted to finish the phrase with “go man go.” He had listened to Hamilton, then insisted Peter listen to it as well. Before long, both boys were singing the lyrics together, performing duets featuring Peter as Hamilton and Ned as Jefferson (or Burr or Washington).
Ned let out a chuckle at the memory, earning him a grin from Peter, and knew they both were singing along in their heads.
Ned’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Peter. What if we had a codeword for when you were in trouble. You know, red and blue kind of trouble. Then if anything happened, you’d just say the word and I’d be able to help or get help.”
“Yeah, man, that’s a great idea! It would definitely have to be Rochambeau, though.” Peter grinned.
“Of course. What else!”
Ned smiled. He just wanted Peter safe.
***
Ned called Peter. And called him. And called him. Even texting him once (or twice, or a hundred times). Peter just wasn’t answering.
Even though Ned had tried to hide his fears from Peter, he knew that his friend could tell. At least a little bit. And every day, Peter had called Ned on his way home from patrol. Or texted. Just something to let his friend know he was safe and okay. But now it was past midnight, approaching 1 AM, and there hadn’t been any word from Peter.
Ned tried every trick in the book. Breathing exercises, looking at the anxiety help posts he’d saved, distracting himself with his favourite game. Nothing had worked.
All he could think about were gorey images of Peter bleeding, maimed, injured, dead, alone . He wouldn’t know what to do if he lost his best friend for real. Suddenly, breathing was very hard, and Ned had to sit down from pacing his room.
His phone rang, Peter’s face lighting up his phone.
“Peter,” he said breathlessly, barely able to speak. “Where were you?”
“Sorry, Ned. Streets were a bit busier than normal today, and my phone died on my way home so I had to wait for it to charge. I’m okay, dude, I promise.”
Ned took a breath, but it was laboured and noisy.
“Ned?” Ned just sucked in another breath, but no air was coming in. Fortunately (or unfortunately) Peter knew what was happening. He’d had a panic attack just last week, after all. “I’m coming over right now, man. Stay with me, okay? Listen to me breathing.” He took an exaggerated breath in, then out, then repeated. “I’ll be there in just a couple minutes, just listen to my voice, to my breathing.” Another breath in and out, repeat.
Peter kept talking and breathing with Ned, and by the time he swung up to his friend’s bedroom window, the panic attack had lessened significantly.
Peter let himself in, Ned’s window was always unlocked for such times when Peter needed to sneak his way in for help, and walked gently over to his friend, who was sitting on his bed.
“Hey, man. I’m here, just like I promised. Can I touch you?” Sometimes Peter’s attacks made him not want any contact, and he wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything to make Ned feel worse. Ned nodded, and Peter wrapped his arms around the boy, going back to exaggerated breathing until the last vestiges of the anxiety were gone.
“Sorry, man,” Ned said, softly. “I don’t know what that was about.”
“Dude, you did nothing to apologize for. How many times have you gotten me through this exact situation?” Ned gave a watery chuckle, and Peter tightened his hold. “Wanna watch something?”
Ned nodded again, too tired to talk or do anything else, and Peter flipped on the TV in Ned’s room, scrolling through Netflix to find something to watch, and they both ended up falling asleep. Safe and together.
***
“Hey, man,” Peter mumbled sleepily, blinking the sleep out of his eyes to bring Ned, who was sitting up at the edge of the bed, into focus. “How’re you doing?”
“I’m alright,” Ned whispered.
Peter sat up and took his friend’s hand.
“It’s just...being blipped and coming back made me realize I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend, Peter.”
“And you’re my guy in the chair! The best one in the whole world, by the way.”
Ned gave a weak smile. “Thanks. I just worry about you, man.”
Peter sighed and squeezed Ned’s hand. “I know. And I can’t promise to always be safe, but I do promise to always let you know when I need you, okay? And I texted Tony about upgrading your computer so you can track my suit as well, so you can look at it if you get worried. Just promise you won’t stalk me,” Peter joked. “And that you will still call me if you ever get worried like that.”
“I promise,” Ned said and hugged his friend tightly, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. Peter was the best superhero in the world (though Ned would never tell Tony Stark that), but he was an even better friend.