Operation Palpatine.

That's the name Ned had assigned to his part of the mission.

Why?

Mainly because he really, really wanted to codename his mission something related to Star Wars. But also because Palpatine turned out to be Darth Sidious and could shoot lightning out of his fingers and the word "Palpatine" just sounded cool. What Ned was about to do to the tech behind tonight's ceremonies was both very Sith-like and shocking enough to be likened to finger-lightning (or so he liked to think). It wasn't his best work as far as codenames went, but he was operating on a strict timeline, so he was gonna give himself a little grace there.

In other news, Ned was about to make Midtown's 2024 graduation ceremonies lit.

He parted ways with MJ and Betty as soon as he could and made his way discreetly to the back of the lobby. He had to pause right before he opened the door to the hallway he needed, however, to glance back towards Betty.

He was a little relieved that she also looked nervous about this whole ordeal—it wasn't as if Ned had ever been a bad kid per se, but he certainly wasn't used to hacking into or messing with the technology of school functions either. He knew she had no reason (but the obvious one that maybe they would get in trouble?) to be nervous, though—not because she was a bad kid but because he knew she was going to crush it no matter what.

He flashed her an O.K. sign that he hoped would restore her faith in herself and their plan, and then he slipped out of the lobby. No one was out here, which he hoped was a good sign as he crept closer to his target hallway, the one that would put him on the left side of the football stadium, where he would be able to access the tech station that had, according to his intel, been commandeered to control the lights, music, and audio for the ceremonies tonight.

He grinned, excitement thrumming throughout his whole body when he saw that the hallway was deserted (seriously, though, what was it about empty, after-hours school hallways that gave him the creeps, even in a time like this?) Everything was going awesome.

A few minutes later, phone clutched in his hand, his heart pounding and palms sweating despite the fact that he had run into exactly zero people between his exodus from the lobby and his arrival at the tech station, Ned was in position.

He put away his phone just so he could crack his knuckles dramatically.

He had this.

Flash Thompson gave the man in the mirror a dazzling smile.

He looked good.

Yeah, the baggy robe was definitely not his best look, but the dark mortar board graduation cap he had on—complete with its little golden tassel—lent him a surprisingly intellectual and dashing air. Plus, he figured the three multicolored stoles he had draped across his shoulders—regardless of whether or not they were wholly "earned" in the strictest sense of the word—were just the icing on the cake.

Who could resist a smart (but not nerdy) and handsome guy?

He was just lifting his phone to snap a selfie for his Instagram when the toilet behind him gurgled.

Flash quickly lowered the phone, swapping his smirk for a look of flat indifference, and then began snapping his hands over the sink as if he were flicking water off his fingers.

Ned Leeds appeared behind his reflection and froze at the sight of his classmate standing in front of the mirror. Flash noticed with some satisfaction that the nerd hadn't even put his graduation cap on yet, though he did have his couple of stoles on already.

"Dude," Leeds said. "Principal Morita called us to line up, like, five minutes ago."

Flash gave his hands one last flick and raised his eyebrows at his classmate.

"Yeah, and what's it to you, Leeches? Why are you in here if we're supposed to be lining up already?"

The words came easily to Flash's lips, but even he couldn't fully resist internally cringing at the pathetically ineffective nickname he'd given Leeds a few years ago. Ned didn't react to the name in any way, though—figures—opting instead to remain weirdly still, eyes wide, one hand tucked suspiciously behind his back. He looked like he'd just gotten caught doing something he shouldn't have been, or maybe like he'd just seen a ghost. However that saying went.

Flash decided to resist the tiny, tiny part of him that wanted to figure out why his companion was acting…stranger than usual, however. Leeds was just weird. Just like Peter Parker and Michelle Jones and pretty much half this stupid school. Why would it matter to him if it didn't actually affect him (outside of temporarily keeping him from taking the selfie he needed to snap for all his loyal social media followers, of course)?

And he really did need to line up for the graduate walk like Principal Morita wanted them to—it wouldn't do to miss the chance to be recognized in front of his parents (and everyone else) for all his academic accomplishments throughout these past four (nine?) years of absolute crap. Surely he deserved that much.

So, he didn't say anything else to Ned as he walked out, and Ned didn't say anything else to him.

In hindsight, that was probably the moment he missed his chance to be the hero Midtown School of Science and Technology needed that night.

Ned lined up with the rest of the graduates in the hall just outside the football field like he hadn't just set up the most dramatic stunt of his life.

He had accomplished the most crucial part of his mission, and—thanks to the wonders of digital age, his experience as Peter's tech man in several Spiderman-related excursions over the past few years, and the ironically vulnerable technology of Midtown School of Science and Technology—Ned could control pretty much the entire football stadium with a few taps on his phone. He was practically buzzingwith power, and no one suspected a thing (just like no one thought Senator Palpatine would be Darth Sidious…)

Peter's guy in the chair was back, and it felt good.

Although…

He had run into Flash in the bathroom not long before lining up, after he'd finished fine-tuning the nuances of the Bluetooth controller he'd set up on his phone. He'd been sitting on the closed lid of the toilet for fifteen minutes at that point, and he'd been so absorbed in his work he hadn't even heard Flash come in, so he'd honestly had a mini freak-out session when he realized he hadn't been truly alone for who knows how long. And…what was Flash even doing in here?

But Flash didn't seem to care why Ned had been hiding out in the school bathroom stall rather than lining up per Principal Morita's instructions, so he was just gonna leave it at that and pretend the whole encounter wasn't super awkward and unnecessary.

So far, so good.

The Force was with him tonight.

And hopefully it was with Peter too—wherever he was at.

Bored.

Flash was so bored.

The graduation ceremony was supposed to have started, like, twenty minutes ago, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that this school did not have its act together tonight. His parents were definitely going to have something to complain to the board about—after all, didn't Midtown know that every stupid second of every stupid day was precious in the corporate ratrace that was the heartbeat of New York City?

Flash rolled his eyes as Principal Morita—who had long ago given up on trying to keep all the graduates neatly lined up in alphabetical order while they waited—yelled out yet another apology and said something about the technical difficulties they were experiencing being resolved soon.

"Sounds to me like they've gotten a few screws loose," the boy behind Flash—Milton? Mike?— chuckled. Flash chose to the ignore him, though he definitely agreed.

He would be checking for comments on his YouTube channel or something right now, but his phone had died and wasn't very accessible in his robe anyway if he wanted to maintain his carefully cultivated look of sophistication, so that was out of the question. Instead, he was stuck watching a bunch of people he never wanted to see again goof off right in front of him.

All his buddies were too far away from him in line, and apparently they didn't think it was worth the effort to seek him out so he wouldn't be bored out of his mind.

Whatever.

Not like it mattered anyway—as soon as whatever these technical difficulties were fixed, he would walk across the stage, get his diploma, and then get out of here for good. Good riddance.

As luck would have it, however, he was spared further painful reflection on his boredom by a disturbance in the line.

Michelle Jones had just emerged from the head of the hall way up in front of him—not the line itself, where she was supposed to be—and was marching briskly down the line, pulling first Betty Brant from her place and then Ned Leeds.

He noticed that though Jones was obviously assembling her little nerd group, she neglected to find Peter Parker, who should have been pretty close to Leeds. That was interesting because…had Flash even seen Peter this entire evening? He didn't think so—though it wasn't like he was going out of his way to look for the guy either. He was another one of those annoyingly persistent parts of Flash's high school career he was looking forward to leaving in his past after tonight.

But as Flash watched MJ and her two friends walking briskly to the back of the line, away from their spots and toward the bathrooms near the end of the hall, he couldn't help but feel a little tug of curiosity in his head.

Flash could be quite observant when he wanted to be, if he didn't say so himself—and something about the weirder-than-usual way these three were acting made him suspicious. Of what, he didn't know, but did it really matter? Anything was better than just standing here, waiting for something to happen when he should be graduating in front of his parents and everyone else (and then partying like a boss after that).

When Jones passed him by, he noted immediately that she looked…off. Her hair was messier than usual, flying all around her face, she looked like she was sweating, and she was moving fast. Leeds and Brant trailed behind her, and he couldn't quite read what their expressions were, but all three of them gave off some seriously tense vibes.

Something was definitely up.

Flash smirked as Jones went by for no other reason than the fact he needed to justify staring at her face like a creep, but the girl didn't even react.

He waited until all three nerds were well past them and then turned and peered back down the hall. He was near the end of the line himself, but even so, there was a fair number of his similarly clad classmates forming a thick black rope that filled out the rest of this hallway and then took a sharp turn to the right, spilling over into a different hallway.

Flash frowned. Jones, Leeds, and Brant weren't even in sight anymore.

He craned his neck to the front again, trying to see if Principal Morita had appeared at the top of the hall to address the graduates again.

Nope.

Graduation was still delayed.

So, Flash turned and began walking in the same direction his three suspicious classmates had gone, ignoring a few of his buddies who whooped out his name in the hopes of starting a conversation.

He had better things to do now.

Not that he really cared what three outcast weirdos did, but he had an idea in the back of his head—pieces of a years-long puzzle that might have been beginning to come together—and he wasn't so sure that the blurry picture they were forming was that crazy after all.

This was New York, wasn't it—former home of the Avengers and numerous vigilantes as well as the sight of multiple extraterrestrial invasions?

Plus, he was bored as heck and didn't really want to think about the fact that his parents might actually just leave if graduation was delayed for too long.

When Flash got to the end of the hall, he scanned the line of graduates there—framed by shiny lockers—but didn't see his three suspects. When he turned to the left, however, towards a hall that had been darkened to signal to the graduates that it was off-limits, he caught a glimpse of three robed figures turning a corner into the bathroom area.

Flash smirked and then crept forward, walking in a way he hoped was quieter than before, though he could still hear the delicate click-clack of his dress shoes on the tiled floor.

He paused when he was about ten feet from the entrance to the bathrooms, which were positioned about halfway down the hall, right in front of Mr. Gardiner's English classroom (which was a fitting place for them if you were to ask him). He glanced backwards and was immediately thankful that this school was full of so many inobservant people—if someone from the graduate line had noticed him creeping after these three and called him out for it, he probably would have missed his chance to eavesdrop on whatever they were discussing.

As it were, however, no one noticed or said anything to him, and he listened carefully as the echoing walls of the shared sink area for the girls' and boys' bathroom funneled his classmates' conversation out to him:

"You sure it wasn't just a problem with the app or something? Maybe a connection problem?"

That was Leeds' voice.

"I don't know, Ned. I just know it said 'Error' and it hadn't said for long," Jones said, and Flash was pretty sure he'd never heard her sound so breathy and emotional before. Though he'd never admit it out loud, she had always kind of scared him in class with her flat expressions and sharp words (usually in defense of Peter these days), but hearing her speak like this—even if he couldn't see her face—seemed somehow even more intimidating.

"Do you think…do you think he's…?" Brant's voice said, shaking, trailing off into an obvious unasked question.

Flash held his breath, just in case his breathing became too loud in the silence.

He was totally confused, but this definitely felt important and it definitely felt suspicious.

"No. I…I don't," Jones said after the pause, and her voice didn't sound so breathy now. "I think Peter needs us to keep doing what we're doing. May and Happy will take care of him, and then we'll be here waiting when he gets back, ready to graduate together."

Flash almost physically flinched back at those words.

What?

What the actual heck was that even supposed to mean? And Peter wasn't here after all? What were these three dweebs doing, and why did they sound so dramatic, like they were in a movie or something? Was Peter sick?

And when Jones said they needed to keep doing what they were doing, did that mean…?

Heart pounding for reasons his brain hadn't entirely caught up with, Flash turned and began to move quickly back down the hallway, back toward the line. Surely it was almost time to walk the line by now, and he was pretty sure he'd heard all he needed to hear.

He didn't understand it, but he was beginning to think he didn't have to for it to matter sometime soon.

Especially if his growing hunch was correct.

Especially if Jones, Leeds, Brant, and maybe even Peter Parker—somewhere—were somehow responsible for the shenanigans going on with tonight's ceremony. After all, as much as he hated to admit it, Peter and Jones in particular were known to be some of the smartest students in his class, and Leeds knew his way around computers. Brant he wasn't so sure about, but…who knew.

Not him.

All he knew was he wanted to graduate—and fast.

Something told him the "fast" part of his wish wasn't going to come true tonight, though.

A/N: Oh my gosh, y'all. I would like to say that the next chapter is written and should be posted Friday (so your pain at the lack of common sense and self-discipline in this fic won't have to be stretched out much longer ;) And if anyone needs to rant about how inaccurate my portrayal of a large, public high school graduation is like, please do because I have no earthly clue.

Yes, I've been living under a rock, and no, I was not dissatisfied with my quality of life there until very recently. Thanks for asking.

Thank you for reading anyway. :,)

"All a person's ways seem pure to them, but motives are weighed by the Lord." ~Proverbs 16:2
"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall." ~Proverbs 16:18