Ned watched through the bus' window as the countryside flew past. They were rolling into New York later than he would have liked and nightfall was already edging towards the horizon. Everyone on the bus was tired and yet no one seemed to be able to sleep. This was the second time in as many semesters that a class from Midtown was returning to their home lucky to be alive. The realization seemed to weigh heavily on both the students and adults alike and, for once, the bus home from a field trip was silent. A small noise interrupted Ned's thoughts and he looked back at where MJ was also staring out the window.
The girl's chin rested on one hand, nose almost pressed to the glass as she watched the passing road with unseeing eyes. Twin tear tracks on her face shone in the light of passing streetlamps. Almost at once, the girl realized she was being watched and ducked her head down, forearm coming up to surreptitiously wipe at her eyes. "What?" she asked Ned, gaze firmly fixed to his left ear.
Ned couldn't believe his eyes; Michelle fucking Jones was crying. He wasn't sure what to say, if he even could say anything in the situation. Without a word, the teen turned around in his seat, slipping downward to lay against the window. Why could the most stoic kid he knew in high school cry but that release was completely blocked for him? Why couldn't he convince his mind to feel anything?! There was pain, fear, and uncertainty trapped just below the surface and Ned wanted more than anything to let it all out. He was a kid who wore his emotions on his sleeve, it was one of the things that had always protected him in school. Everyone knew what he was feeling at any given moment and he didn't care. Happy, sad, excited, upset, embarrassed, they were his emotions and only he was entitled to feel them. For a geeky, pudgy kid in high school he was honestly surprised by his own ability to let just about anything roll off his back. But this wasn't just anything, this was Peter, his best friend. He could cry over burning the food he was cooking or the fricking dog dying in Old Yeller, but he couldn't make himself cry for Peter. No matter how hard he tried.
Despite his churning thoughts, Ned allowed himself to answer the pull of exhaustion and sink further into the window. The glass was cool beneath the arm that cushioned his head and the motion of the bus oddly soothing. He was asleep before they hit New Jersey.
The school bus turning off the interstate and winding back into the city woke Ned before he was ready. The teen rubbed at bleary eyes, sitting up in his seat to see the familiar surroundings of Queens roll past his window. It was night now, but the darkness was mostly chased away by the absurd light pollution that was New York. Ned smiled fondly at his city, more happy than ever to be home. His phone chirped in his lap and Ned unlocked the screen to see several texts from his mother asking how far out the bus was. Even though he knew she would be upset that he wasn't responding, Ned put the phone down. They would be at the school soon enough and he would have to face her then, for now, he wanted to stay wrapped up in his cocoon of shock with his own thoughts and fears to worry about and no one else's.
MJ sniffed softly behind him, but Ned didn't turn around this time. If she was crying again, he would give her space. His phone chirped once more and Ned glanced down to see a notification for their group chat pop up. The chat was mostly filled with Ned and MJ's demands for Peter to pick up his damn phone and answer them, but nothing new had been added in the past 24 hours. A new message from MJ showed at the bottom of the chat, 'you better be okay, bitch.'
Ned snorted once before tapping out a quick addendum, 'don't make me get the necronomicon, Peter.' He could hear the soft laugh from MJ behind him and, man, was the brief attempt at humor worth it for just that sound. Crying MJ was beginning to unnerve him.
The pick up zone of the school was full of parents as the bus pulled in. Adults that would have normally waited for their children in the relative comfort of their cars were huddled together in the muggy summer night, waiting anxiously for their kids. Ned was immediately reminded of the aftermath of their last Washington DC trip, with the anxious parents waiting desperately to see their children who almost hadn't come home. This time, Ned thought with sadness, there was no Spiderman to save the day. This time, not everyone was coming home.
The teen fled the bus as soon as he could, his backpack and duffle bag carelessly slung over one shoulder. His mom was waiting for him, arms opening wide when she saw him and tears stains on her cheeks. In this moment, Ned didn't care that he was a high-schooler with a reputation to protect or that his friends and classmates could see him, he ran into the hug. Desperately clinging to the small woman, Ned buried his face into her shoulder and shook with a cascade of emotion. Stress, fear, sadness, grief, and relief at making it home safe all warred for dominance within him, but he still couldn't cry. After several minutes, his mom started steering him towards the street, arms still clenched tightly about him.
"Come on, sweetie, let's get you home," his mother murmured as she helped him into the back of a cab. Ned let his mom fawn over him, knowing that it was more for her comfort than his.
"I'm so glad you're safe," his mother continued as she pulled Ned into her side. "You are never allowed to go to DC without me again."
The cabby glanced into his rear-view mirror curiously at that before focusing back on driving. Ned didn't say anything, letting his mom chitter nervously as they meandered their way home. He should be grateful that he had escaped, but all he could think about was that Peter had not.
As the front door to their apartment swung open, the smell of fresh baked pani popo, all-purpose citrus cleaner, and the lingering smog of New York City hit Ned more sharply than usual. Home. He breathed deeply, taking in the familiar scents. His mom hurried past him, snagging his duffel bag on the way and shoving it in their laundry closet. The teen continued to stand in the open doorway, eyeing his mother with a vacant expression. After a moment, the woman gently directed the teen into the combined kitchen and living area that made up the largest part of their living space.
Ned simply stared at his familiar surroundings, wondering where to go from here. Everything he normally did suddenly seemed so silly. Was he really expected to go back to school after surviving a terrorist attack, or do his homework, or binge watch Netflix while he put together insanely expensive lego sets? After everything he had been through in the last 48 hours, his normal life seemed woefully out of place and carefree. "Can I go to bed?" he finally managed to ask after several minutes.
"Of course, sweetheart," his mother replied gently.
Ned retreated down the hallway before the woman could finish wishing him goodnight. His bed was a welcome comfort and the teen sank into it gratefully, blocking out the rest of the world. Despite the deep exhaustion and numbness that seemed to almost physically weigh him down into his bedspread, sleep eluded the teen. Ned tossed and turned for what felt like hours, before finally falling into an uneasy sleep.
The persistent sounds of Disney's Pocahontas invaded his sleep, turning his mundane dream of getting ready for school into a wash of color and overly eager ritualism. His toothbrush offered him spiritual guidance as he debated whether to use the acid green or the canary yellow potions that had replaced his toothpaste. The singing grew louder and louder in his head until Ned realized that it wasn't actually coming from his dream. Groggily, the teen rolled over, hand fumbling for his phone in the pre-dawn gloom. Ned barely paused to breathe when he saw the name on caller id. "Hello?" he answered in a sleep-clouded, but anxious voice.
"Ned?" May's voice broke halfway through his name and he could hear the woman sniffling on the other side.
"Oh my god, tell me he's not dead!" Ned gasped, springing out of his bed to rush for the door, as if he could run to wherever the woman was calling from.
"No, no," May sniffled again. "He's alive, Tony got him through alive."
The relief was so great that Ned physically couldn't contain it. His knees went weak and the boy stumbled back to his bed, sinking heavily onto it. "He's alive?"
"Yeah," May managed through her tears, "he's alive."
His eyes burned and Ned reached up to rub them, surprised when his hand came away wet. A drop of hot liquid splashed onto his fingers as he held the hand up to his eye. He was crying. Finally, he was crying. And just like that, the dam that had been holding back his tears and emotions for the past two days shattered. The teen keened into the phone, sobbing messily.
"Shh, Ned. It's okay, he's okay," May's soothing did little to stop the flood of tears Ned had been holding back and before either of them knew it, the woman joined him. They cried together until Ned's eyes were puffy and his voice sore.
May waited patiently as the teen composed himself before speaking again, "I'm sorry to wake you, but I wanted to tell you that Peter's being transferred back to one of Mr. Stark's facilities upstate. Once he gets settled, would you like to come see him?"
"Oh my god, yes," Ned immediately agreed.
"If everything is still going alright tomorrow, I'll have someone pick you up after school and bring you over," May promised.
"Okay, that sounds like a plan," Ned nodded. "Should I bring anything. Maybe some books or lego to keep him from getting bored?"
May sighed on the other end, stress and anxiety clear in her tone, "he's not awake yet and I don't know if he will be tomorrow. You can bring something if you want, but you might have to wait to give it to him."
Ned's shoulders slumped at the news and he put down the lego catalog he had already been trying to stuff into his backpack. "Do they know when he's going to wake up?"
"Right now everything is kinda up in the air," May began. "I'll tell you more about it tomorrow. Oh, and Ned?"
"Yes?" Ned replied.
"Be sure to have your mom text me that it's alright for you to come upstate tomorrow. I don't want to steal you from school if she doesn't know," May's 'mom voice' was just as impressive through the phone as it was in real life.
"Yes ma'am," Ned groaned. With a few hasty goodbyes, he hung up the call.
The phone was unceremoniously discarded as Ned bounded for his bedroom door, ripping it open, and leaning out into the hallway. "Mom, Mom!"
There was some clattering in the kitchen before the small woman poked her head out into the hallway, "What do you need, Ned?"
"Peter's alive. He's going to be alright," Ned breathed out quickly, nearly slamming the words together in his haste. "Can I go see him tomorrow?"
Mrs. Leeds sighed in relief and strode down the hallway to stand in front of Ned. A dish-towel was thrown over her shoulder and soap suds clung to her fingers even though she was already dressed in her business heels and blouse. Her face was drawn and tired and it looked like she hadn't stopped moving since she brought her son home the night before. "I don't think so Ned, DC is a long way to go on such short notice. Why don't we wait to hear from May and then figure it out, okay?"
"But Mom," Ned groaned, drawing out 'mom' as if he was still five and begging for ice cream. "I just talked with May, they're transferring Peter upstate and she says I can go see him tomorrow after school. If you don't believe me just give her a call, she wanted you to contact her anyway."
His mother scowled at Ned's petulant tone but didn't comment. She crouched down a couple of inches to meet her son's eyes, "alright Ned, I'll talk to May and see what we can do. I'm glad that Peter's going to be alright. Now, please go get some more sleep. I've already called your school to let them know we're giving you the day off. But you have to go back tomorrow, so I don't want to hear any lip about it." Her firm, but kind tone halted any protests that Ned had.
He retreated back to his room, initially too excited to try and sleep again. Instead he curled up in his bed with his phone, intent on reading the heck out of some truly awful Star Wars fanfiction that he had found last week. Man, Peter was going to flip out when he told him about the latest awful pairing. Maybe the story would even be bad enough that he could add it to their specially curated 'Ned and Peter's awful awful fanfic list'. Before the boy knew it, he had drifted back to sleep.
Ned slept through lunch, dinner, and well into the evening. When he finally rolled out of bed, his LEGO Batman clock told him it was nearly eight o'clock. His normal bedtime was just two hours away. With a yawn and a stretch, Ned pushed himself off of his mattress and out the door. He felt sleep-drunk and listless, like his head was several degrees warmer than the rest of his body and stuffed with cotton balls. There was a gentle glow from the living area and Ned stumbled into the room to see the TV on at low volume. A balding head resting on the back of a recliner was the only indication that anyone else was present in their small apartment.
"Dad?" Ned croaked quietly, voice congested from sleep.
The man in the recliner sat up and turned around to stare at the teen over the top of the worn chair. "Ned, you're up! Your mom left dinner in the fridge for you before she went to bed."
The teen just shook his head, glancing at the fridge once before shuffling past his father to sit on the couch. The older man watched his son for a moment before turning back to the TV. He didn't move to hug him or baby him like his mother had done, ostensibly preferring to give the kid space and time. Appreciation rushed through Ned at his father's casual and open air. He knew it must be killing the man not to try and fix the situation, but his father also seemed to sense that this was something Ned needed to come to terms with in his own time.
"I can put on that alien show with MacGyver if you'd like?" the man offered after a moment of pregnant silence.
Ned shook his head, "Can we just," he gestured at the paused TV show, "keep watching whatever? I think you watching one of my nerd shows might actually convince me that this is all a dream."
His father looked uncertain and sad for a moment before turning away. The glow of the TV illuminated the man's profile and Ned watched him swallow convulsively before trying to school his features. "Of course Ned," he responded after a moment, voice quavering suspiciously.
Ned sat back and watched the man's favorite show - something about the backwoods that the teen didn't understand - basking in the sheer normalcy of the moment. As the episode got underway, the teen found himself relaxing in the familiarity of home, finally feeling like he could come down from whatever state of numb skittishness he had been trapped in for the last two days. The unfinished lego set on the coffee table called his name and the teen slid to the floor in front of it, idly assembling what would turn out to be a functioning Batcave. Ned had hoped to put the finishing touches on it with Peter as they binged the 1960s live action series with Adam West. That would have made them laugh for hours as they set up the display and tried to make everything look like it did in the instructions. Ned set down the car he was working on, looking over his shoulder at his father. The man was half paying attention to him and the other half to the show but he looked up immediately when the boy cleared his throat.
"I'm going to bed," Ned announced after a minute. He tried to keep the hollowness out of his voice and tacked on a yawn at the end for show.
His father leaned forward to place a strong, calloused hand on Ned's shoulder, "go ahead, bud. Just let me know if you need anything, yeah? I'm on second shift tomorrow so I'll be here all night if you need me."
"Yeah," Ned shrugged off his hand and rose to his feet, fleeing for the comfort of his bed. Ned hugged the Porg plushie that Peter had given him for his last birthday and rocked himself into an uneasy sleep.
The next morning dawned dull and humid, an almost suffocating mugginess falling on Queens. Ned woke to the blare of his alarm, rolling over onto his phone to muffle it rather than bother turning it off. He stared at the wall on the far side of the bed and tried to come up with the will to go to school. It was only his mother's insistent coaxing that got him up, dressed, and out the door on time. Ned would have protested having return to school so soon if it wasn't for the overfull bag of goodies his mom packed him and the prospect of returning to some semblance of normalcy. And so with the well-wishes of his parents still ringing in his ears, the teenager scrambled out the door and headed for the subway.
For once in his life, Ned didn't encounter any delays on his commute to school and actually managed to stumble through the doors a full 15 minutes earlier than normal. A few other students milled around, talking at their lockers or sipping on coffee as they wandered around the halls in an almost zombie-like state. Ned bypassed them all, stopping at his locker only long enough to collect the books he needed for his first period before marching off for his homeroom with downcast eyes.
"Mr. Leeds, there you are!" a voice called.
Ned's head shot up to see Stephanie Scott, the school's secretary, striding towards him through the halls. "I was just on my way to your homeroom," she explained as she drew nearer to him.
"What's going on?" Ned asked, dread settling in his stomach. Please don't be about Peter, please don't be about Peter, the teen mumbled silently to himself.
"Principal Morita would like to speak with you," Stephanie began.
"Is it about Peter?" he asked nervously, following along just behind the secretary as she lead the way back to the administrative offices.
"Nothing's wrong, Mr. Leeds." The secretary glanced over her shoulder to see the color noticeably draining from the student's face and quickly tacked on, "the principal would simply like to check in on you after what occurred in Washington."
The woman ushered Ned into the administrative office and gestured for him to take a seat on one of the hard chairs that lined the far wall. No sooner had the teen sat down and finally managed to wiggle into a comfortable position, than the principal's office door opened. "Mr. Leeds," Principal Morita called, holding the door wide for Ned to shuffle through.
"Please have a seat," the principal gestured to one of the chairs facing his desk before resuming his own seat. "You're not in any trouble, Ned. I just want to see how you are doing after everything that happened over the weekend."
From his place perched on the edge of the principal's nice leather chair, Ned just shrugged, unsure how to respond. The teen picked nervously at the cuffs of the button up he had thrown on over one of his favorite graphic t-shirts. He knew that the nervous habit was probably very apparent to the other man, but right now Ned was tired and unsure and this helped.
After their silence had stretched out into an awkward pause, the principal cleared his throat and steepled his hands beneath his chin, "I know that this has to a scary and uncertain time for you."
Ned shrugged again, looking down at this shoes instead of meeting the searching eyes of the man across from him. He felt jittery and wanted nothing more than to flee from this room.
Principal Morita sighed, leaning back and straightening his tie before speaking again, "Ned, I want you know that we are behind you 100%. Your teachers and our administration are here for you."
"Yes, sir," Ned mumbled in response, burying the last part in a nervous cough.
"Now, I've already spoken with your parents about this and we've agreed that it would be best for you to speak with the counselor, Mr. Biegeleisen." It felt like the man was trying to be gentle, but Ned had spent his entire high school career intimidated by the principal's authority and the softness of Morita's voice was putting him on edge more than it was comforting him.
"Yes, sir," mumbled Ned.
Likely realizing that his student was uncomfortable and anxious, Principal Morita folded his hands in his lap and leaned back in his chair. Ned got the distinct impression that he was trying to appear less threatening and more casual. It wasn't working. After another awkward pause, the man spoke again, "I know talking with a professional can be - intimidating. But I want you to promise that you will at least try one session. If you don't want to go back after that, I'm not going to force you."
"Yes, sir," Ned rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he stuttered his way through the reply. Gosh dang flipping Batman, he needed to come up with a new response - and a new curse, even in his head that was bad.
"Alright," the principal stood from his chair and indicated the door behind Ned. "I'll let you get back to class."
Ned nodded, shooting up from his chair quickly and trying not to trip over his own feet as he bolted for the door. "Thank you," the teen mumbled as he shuffled out.
"And Mr. Leeds?" Principal Morita called as Ned made a beeline for the exit. "We are here for you. Please don't hesitate to use the resources at your disposal."
The teen turned back long enough to attempt a smile and a slightly shaky thumbs-up before dashing away. Man that was awkward and scary. "Note to self," Ned murmured as he fast-walked through the silent halls, "never end up in his office again."
His phone chirped as Ned scampered in for the last few minutes of homeroom and he glanced down at the device to see a notification from his mom. 'May is sending someone to pick you up after your last period. Don't worry about decathlon, I spoke with Mr. Harrington. Have a good day xoxo.' Ned shook his head fondly at his mother's text; the woman had never fully adapted to texting and still signed off on all of her messages.
At a stern glance form his teacher, Ned slid the phone back into his pocket and concentrated on the handout in front of him. This was shaping up to be an odd day.
In hindsight, Ned was sure he never would have made it through that first day back if not for the promise of seeing Peter. Half of the AP government class was still absent and Ms. Andrews couldn't help but stutter every time she turned from the board to see her few students. Though her makeup was impeccable as always, Ned could tell from the teacher's red eyes that she had been crying. The rest of his teachers tried to go on like it was just a normal day of school, ignoring the empty chair in their class and never speaking of the boy who should have been there.
In stark contrast, the hallways were alight with rumours and speculation over what had happened to Peter and who the still unnamed terrorists were. Everywhere he turned, Ned seemed to overhear some group of teens whispering about the bombing. Many cast him furtive glances as he wandered between classes, some pitying and others curious. A few braver students called out as he passed, asking him what happened in DC and how he felt about being in a terror attack. Ned brushed these few off with a cold stare and some mumbled words. Flash, for his part, was oddly silent. He didn't knock Ned's books out of his hands as he passed. And the few times he heard the bully talking about Peter, Flash used his name and not the usual slur.
When the bell finally signaled the end of the day, Ned was uncharacteristically one of the first out of the school, ignoring the teacher's instructions on the readings due the next day as he practically leapt over his desk for the door. The teen scanned the crowd for May and her old, beat up station wagon, but instead found a harried man with a small whiteboard that read 'Leeds' in bold letters.
"Seriously?" Ned mumbled to himself, but tripped down the stairs nonetheless in the stranger's direction.
"Are you Ned?" the man asked when the teen came to an uncoordinated halt before him.
"You're not very good at this," Ned supplied in lieu of an answer, tongue tripping over his words as he babbled. "Most parents don't get out of their cars and the few butlers or whatever the heck the rich kids have tend to wait around the corner to avoid the line. Did May send you?"
The man held the door open for Ned, glowering silently as he waited for the teen to finish speaking. When Ned paused for breath, he seized his chance. "You're lucky I like my job, kid. Now, get in the car if you want to see Peter."
"Sir, yes sir." Ned responded and crawled into the backseat. The car was certainly more inconspicuous than a limo, but the smooth black lines of the sedan and the supple leather interior spoke of luxury. Idly, Ned wondered if maybe this was an Audi, that seemed like the type of car rich people drove. "Where are we going?"
"Upstate," the older man answered as he climbed into the driver's seat and closed the door. They joined the line of vehicles waiting to turn out of the school.
"What do I call you?" Ned asked after they had pulled onto the busy street.
"Happy," the man answered in a gruff tone.
Ned thought about this for a moment before bursting out, "I knew I recognized you! You're the one that hung up on me when we were trying to warn you about the plane! You know, Peter almost died trying to stop Liz's dad."
Happy didn't respond to the teen, focusing on the road before him and swearing under his breath at the other drivers. From his spot on the rear bench, Ned could see his brow clenched in a deep expression of annoyance as he maneuvered around rush hour traffic.
"Why do they call you Happy, anyway? You don't look very happy," the teen tried to raise a skeptical eyebrow, but the other one quickly followed it's twin and only succeeded in giving him a slightly surprised look. The teen cursed silently as he rubbed at his forehead. Dang, he was going to have to practice that eyebrow quirk in the mirror some more before he tried it in public again.
The man didn't reply to his question and the occupants of the car lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Ned stared out his window, trying to ignore the niggling part of his brain that kept supplying him with question after question to ask. Finally, he lost the battle, "Hey, Happy? Is this in Audi?"
"It's a Bentley," the man replied, glancing back in the rearview mirror with a stern look. "Do all teenagers talk so much, or is it just you nerds?"
Ned shrugged, "I dunno. All my friends are nerds so I don't really have anything to compare us to."
"Kid, that was a rhetorical question," Happy grouched. "And a hint to give me some peace and quiet."
Ned snapped his mouth closed, turning in his seat to gaze out the window as they sped along the interstate, heading out of the city. His jittery legs bounced with the nervous energy of all his pent up questions. In the end, he only managed five minutes of silence, "So where are you we going exactly and-"
"Nope," Happy cut him off. The partition between the two began to raise and the man scowled fiercely into the rearview mirror until he was finally cut off by the reflective glass panel.
With a dramatic sigh, Ned flopped back into his seat, digging around his backpack for his phone and earbuds. If Happy didn't want to talk to him, then he had several podcasts to keep him company instead. With the sweet sound of Cecil Baldwin's voice playing in his ear, Ned sank down on the seat and watched the sky pass by outside.
"Kid," Happy's voice called over his podcast and Ned struggled upright. He hadn't even noticed that the partition had come down until the other man spoke. "We're here."
Ned pressed his face to the glass, gawking as the shining building grew closer and closer. "No freaking way!" he squealed. "This is the Avengers Compound! You mean Peter is staying with the Avengers?!"
The car swung around on a broad loop and Ned greedily drank in every detail. The enormous windows covering one of the exterior walls gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun, nearly obscuring the prominent Avengers logo on the side of the building. Happy smirked slightly to himself, turning into the loading bays and casually rolling past the vehicles still parked on tarmac. He kept one eye on the familiar road and the other on his rearview mirror, watching as the teen practically gave himself whiplash from the amount of stuff he was trying to take in at the same time.
All too soon, the car pulled into a garage, cutting off Ned's view of the complex. "Ah," he mumbled, disappointment clear in his tone. He had half a mind to ask Happy if they could take a slow drive around the whole thing, but the man in question was already climbing out of the car.
"Alright, kid. This is it," Happy told him as he opened the car door on Ned's side. He steered the kid into the complex, past the lower work level, and into a private elevator. A biometric scanner mounted on the interior unlocked a separate panel to the private floors. Ned desperately wanted to be excited over all the technology that surrounded him; his fingers should have itched to figure out how the biometric scanner worked and what the security measures in this building were like, but the closer he got to Peter's physical location the more and more preoccupied he became. The teen hadn't really stopped to consider what this would be like. Hospitals were not a familiar environment for him and he couldn't help but insert Peter into situations that he had seen on TV. Would he be hooked up to a machine that breathed for him? Would there be a monitor beeping in time with his heart? Would his friend look small and deathly still surrounded by big and scary machines?
Ned's unease must have permeated from him enough that Happy noticed. As he escorted the teen off of the elevator, the older man clapped a not unkind hand to his shoulder and patted him sharply. With a watery smile, Ned cleared his throat and tugged his sleeves back into place.
"This is the floor for the infirmary, just head through the double doors ahead of you," Happy gestured down the hall to a wall of windows and a seamless glass door. "Oh, and keep this on you while you're up here."
Ned looked back at the man in surprise, belatedly realizing that Happy was holding something out to him. The man scowled at the teen's lack of response before shoving the object into his hands. "What is this?" Ned asked, holding a plastic badge up to his face.
Happy grumbled something about 'nerd school' and 'should know this' before restraining his expression and carefully explaining, "access to the infirmary and other features on this floor are normally granted through facial recognition or numeric locks, neither of which we are trusting to a child. That badge will let you come and go from the infirmary while you are here. Don't lose it."
With that, the man turned and stalked back into the elevator, leaving Ned by himself in the silent hall. The teen looped the lanyard around his neck and made a beeline for the infirmary, not even stopping to marvel as the doors unlocked and slid open silently for him without him having to even swipe his badge. May poked her head out of an open door farther down the hall at the sound of Ned's thundering feet.
Her face lit up in a bittersweet smile as she tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "He's in here," she held out a hand beckoning Ned onwards.
With his heart suddenly thudding uncomfortably in his stomach and a lump of fear in his throat, Ned took her offered hand and let himself be led into the room. Whatever he was expecting to see, this was so much worse. The teen felt like he had been physically slapped. It was only May's firm grip on his wrist that kept him from recoiling in shock and horror.
"I know this is scary but I promise you that it looks worse than it is. You know Peter, he heals fast. He was even awake a little while ago," May spoke to him the whole time she steered him towards the bed, voice gentle and caring.
Peter lay bonelessly on a small mound of pillows, eyes roving beneath their lids and small tremors running throughout his body. His head and a good portion of his left side were swathed in bandages, but scrapes and ugly yellow bruising blossomed out across the skin that wasn't covered. There was a bulky brace on his friend's back that Ned suspected was the only thing keeping Peter from slumping in on himself. A clear plastic mask clasped over the injured teen's nose and mouth forced Ned to step right up to the bedside in order to see his friend's face. Peter looked remarkably pale beneath the mask, expression vacant even as the muscles in his face twitched sporadically. Ned fumbled down the length of Peter's arm, reaching for his right hand. A plastic clip met his fingers and the teen looked down in confusion.
"It's okay," May told him gently. "You can hold his hand, you won't hurt anything."
Ned nodded jerkily and sniffed, trying his best to keep from crying. The teen carefully cradled his best friend's hand as if he was afraid too much pressure would cause the appendage to break. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the only thing that he could force out was a wheeze.
Seeming to sense exactly what the boy needed, May excused herself, "I'll be just outside if you need me. It's going to take some time, but he will be okay."
And then Ned was alone. He perched on the edge of the bed, staring down at the hand in his grasp to avoid looking at the rest of Peter. "I can't believe you're staying with the freaking Avengers, dude."
Ned sniffled again. He could power through this. "You were supposed to be the one to show me this. We were supposed to have that brotastic sleepover you keep talking about and get ourselves into all the places we're not allowed to see."
Peter didn't respond beyond the slightly raw sound of his breathing. Ned's head jerked up to watch the other boy, taking in the fact that even though he was beat up and unconscious, Peter was alive and would reportedly recover. A small, watery laugh escaped the teen, "you better not stand me up on that sleepover. I am expecting all of the normal bells and whistles when you get out of here."
Silence sat heavily on the room for several minutes as Ned tried to think of something else to say. He had been looking forward to seeing his friend for the past two days, but now that he was here, it took everything Ned had not to turn around and run out again. The teen sighed in an attempt to release some tension before casting around the room for something to talk about.
"You should have seen everyone at school today," Ned finally mumbled after a moment. "Everyone knows your name now. At least ten people asked me for your number to 'check up on you.' But don't worry, I only gave it to the cute ones. You are going to be one of the most popular kids when you come back."
Mirth bubbled up inside Ned, surprising the teen with a small laugh as he thought of his weirdest day at school yet. "Flash didn't even call you Penis. All day. I thought he was going to have a seizure every time he used your name."
"Oh! Speaking of school," the teen rustled around in his bulging backpack, pulling out item after item. "Ms. Andrews gave you a new set of books since we assumed everything in your backpack was wrecked. And your other teachers are going to pass on the homework to me and MJ. We've got you all sorted."
A small stack of books and papers grew on Peter's bedside table. Ned placed a pack of Avenger's themed pencils and erasers on top of it.
"Just, wake up soon, okay? You still owe me that Lord of the Rings marathon. Extended editions," Ned patted Peter's hand once more before carefully setting it down on his friend's bandaged stomach. Pushing off from the bed, Ned made it to the door before he looked back at the unconscious teen. "I'm glad you're not dead. But if you do die, promise me you'll haunt Flash forever?"
Ned fished his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through to their group chat. MJ was finally active after ghosting him for the majority of the day. 'Let's spam him with memes', the teen tapped out. After a minute, MJ's reply chirped: 'Totally'. A wry smile pulled at Ned's lips as he pictured Peter's face when he finally got all of these. They were going to freaking bury him in nerdiness. He waved goodbye to Peter and stepped into the hallway
"Ned," May asked softly as the teen reappeared from Peter's room, one arm wrapping around his shoulders in a loose hug. "Are you going to be okay?"
Ned looked up at the woman, sniffling back a few stray tears as he thought about the question. "Yeah," he finally answered. "I think I will be."
Sorry this is a bit later than I meant. Between prepping for Florence and general crappy adulting things I had to take care of (so many hours stuck balancing my ledgers), the last few weeks have been busy. The good news is that the hurricane took a turn north just before us and all we got was some rain and wind. The other good news is that I tracked down an erroneous purchase on my account which, after investigation, did not prove to be identity theft and was instead my cat activating a one-click purchase on Amazon which I was thankfully able to get reversed. The bad news is that another storm system came in and flooded my area. My apartment got cut off for a little bit and I have water damage to my car after the runoff stream in our apartment complex decided to invade. Don't grow up, it's not worth it.
Normal disclaimer here: I was homeschooled k-12 and never attended any type of education institution until college. I have no clue what high school is like or how classes work. My only experience with this is the few public schooled friends I had in my teen years and stupid high school/coming of age movies. Seriously, at 15 I had more friends who were over 30 than I did kids my own age.
A note on Ned's character: I've been trying to balance his exuberant, overly curious, slightly hyperactive, and obsessive personality with the experience of trauma. This does inevitably tend to throw people out of character and put a damper on their usual self-expression. In this chapter I tried to focus more on the initial emotional shock and psychological re-orientation that follows a single incident trauma. Hopefully I've been able to convey how someone like Ned might respond in this type of situation. I would like to stress that though there are common reactions to single incident traumas (car crashes, assault, witnessing a violent act or crime, kidnapping, hostage situations, terrorist attacks, witnessing death, general accidents, etc.), every individual experiences trauma in unique ways and I am trying to give a portrayal of personal experience rather than a laundry list of symptoms. Any feedback you guys have for my portrayal would be appreciated!