A/N: Disclaimer: I know virtually nothing about technology, but I do know what Ned is going to do probably isn't possible in real life, so...please forgive me? And this chapter is kind of crackfic-ish and honestly it's the one I'm most insecure about in this entire story, so please be constructive if you have any criticisms you are well within your rights to voice. ALSO ENJOY A LITTLE MORE ANGST because Ned didn't get much any earlier (oops). Thanks so much for reading! :)
Also, these are the songs used in this chapter - in order. If you don't know them, I recommend listening to them before/during your read:
"The Imperial March" by John Williams & London Symphony Orchestra | "Baby Shark" by Pinkfong | "Who Let the Dogs Out" by Baha Men | "Cupid Shuffle" by Cupid
And just as I do not own any of the character used in this story - they belong to Marvel - I do not own any of the songs used in this fic. They belong to their respective artists/studios. I dunno if it's necessary, but I thought I should let the record reflect this fact.
Ned's mind raced as he returned to his place in line.
And he was shaking just a little bit because what if Peter was really hurt?
Or worse.
MJ had definitely looked more scared than he was used to seeing her when she told him about what she'd seen on the app. Ned had checked his own app as soon as he thought about it—which was surprisingly late in the conversation given his mental state at the time—and had been entirely disappointed to see that it was true.
Peter's suit wasn't giving them readings anymore.
And yeah, that could easily mean that there was just a glitch in the app or even in the suit itself, but what if that wasn't the reason?
Ned jerked as Betty squeezed his arm reassuringly when she passed by on her way to the front of the line. He gave her a shaky smile, which she returned with about as much grace, and then Ned forced himself to kind of lean back into the buzz of voices and in the now muted excitement over his part of their plan playing out.
MJ had been right towards the end of her conversation, when she'd ultimately said that all they could do was finish their plan and trust that May, Happy, and Peter had things covered.
But even then he couldn't shake the feeling that all of this wasn't fair. Peter should be able to be here with his friends, with his family, graduating like a normal teenager. He shouldn't have to worry about getting hurt because he was trying to save innocent people from getting mugged or beaten up or whatever else they needed saving from because bad guys were just stupid.
Why couldn't people just be nice to one another? Was it really that hard?
And maybe a little selfishly, Ned also wondered why the universe or God or whoever had chosen Peter of all people to be a superhero. Peter was selfless and goofy and his best friend and he would absolutely sacrifice everything in a heartbeat if it meant preventing people from getting injured or—Ned swallowed—or if it meant keeping them from dying.
His best friend being a superhero was cool and all, of course, but it could also be stressful. And he was sure he wasn't enduring half as much stress about the whole thing as Peter probably did—or his aunt, for that matter.
It wasn't that Ned wanted Peter to stop helping people, but it might be nice if he could get a break once in a while just to…not have to stop terrible things from happening. Especially at times like this and after everything Ned knew his friend had gone through recently. Ned took a deep breath and then pinched himself on the arm just to snap himself out of the daze he was falling into.
It didn't work.
Now that he thought about it, maybe it made sense that Peter was the one who'd been chosen to receive superpowers because he was so good.
And…also maybe because he had all the friends and family he did to help him through times like this.
Ned finally felt himself relax—just a little bit.
That was a much better thought to dwell on.
Seriously, though—Peter had an awesome network of support to lean on, and that awesome support network was going to make sure he got to experience graduation to its fullest extent, as he'd more than deserved.
Speaking of which—
Principal Morita was yelling something at the top of the hallway now, and though Ned couldn't quite hear him or see him over the way the shifting line of graduates was disrupting his view, a whispered, condensed version of his message was being relayed down their ranks so everyone in the back knew what was up.
"We're about to start walking out," one girl in front of Ned whispered to the people behind her. Ned nodded in acknowledgement, and someone else beside him passed the message on just as fast.
Not long after that, Ned was moving, walking forward slowly, the line beginning to trickle out of the hallway and across the pavement outside. The graduates were moving onto the football field, and now was the time for action. Now was time for the grand finale of this sabotage plan to begin.
Ned fumbled inside his robe, found his phone, and unlocked it. He didn't even falter when Peter's ArachnaApp filled the screen, still up from earlier, and then he entered the program he'd created for just this moment.
As soon as he passed over the threshold of the hallway, he tapped the button that would start it all.
And then he couldn't resist the grin that rose to his face.
Everything was gonna be juust fine.
Unfortunately, Ned wasn't actually on the field yet when "The Imperial March" from Star Wars replaced "Pomp and Circumstance."
He was still in the hallway, close to exiting the school. Graduate after graduate had been walking across the football field, getting their name and perhaps a few notes about their academic career called out from the stage before they assumed the uncomfortable seats they'd sit in for most of the remainder of the ceremony.
When about a quarter of the graduates had been seated—per Ned's painstaking and surprisingly technical calculations—the speakers blaring the cheesy-but-steeped-in-tradition-so-therefore-perfectly-valid-for-graduation song that was "Pomp and Circumstance" in both the hallways and the football field outside cut off without warning.
Ned resisted the urge to grin again as he counted off in his head.
Three, two, one…
"The Imperial March" began right on cue, just a tad louder than "Pomp and Circumstance" had been and so much cooler.
Ned felt the line of graduates stiffen with confusion as one body, and he had the sudden, irrational thought that if Darth Vader had offered him the chance to rule the galaxy together rather than Luke Skywalker, Ned probably would have had a hard time saying no right away because come on.
This kind of power was weirdly intoxicating.
But the moment passed, and as the new song continued playing over the speakers all across the school—probably to the marked bewilderment and horror of everyone in charge of the commencement ceremonies (sorry)—all of Ned's classmates began furiously whispering to one another.
In fact, everyone was whispering so furiously that the whispering soon became full-fledged conversation that no one could entirely understand or even reply to because even though the interruption was unexpected and weird, everyone in this hallway was still technically a high school student.
And when one of the most famous songs from Star Wars began playing in the middle of graduation, any high school student in his/her right mind would be excited.
Ned stood there, attempting to engage in chaotic conversation over this strange occurrence as much as people would expect him to, until the second phase of his plan was fulfilled: the school administrators and tech people "got the music under control."
"The Imperial March" cut out, replaced once more by "Pomp and Circumstance"—playing from the beginning, of course.
There was another moment of breathless confusion as all the graduates milled around, craning their necks in a vain attempt to see out the doors and onto the field, where all the real action was happening, and then the line started moving again. Everyone was a little quieter than they had been a few seconds ago, but if Ned didn't know any better, he'd almost say that his fellow graduates seemed disappointed at the restoration of normalcy.
The line picked up speed just a little bit, and he caught a few names being announced from onstage. Principal Morita's voice might have sounded a bit thin, but Ned couldn't know that for certain at this distance.
It seemed the school administrators were trying to pretend that had never happened at all so they could proceed with their already-slightly-derailed plan, which—that was fair, Ned thought. It had probably been a very stressful night for everyone in charge, and he couldn't deny that that fact made him just a tiiiny bit guilty.
But this was for Peter, so—
About one minute into "Pomp and Circumstance," the speakers cut out again.
This time, "Baby Shark" began playing, louder even than "The Imperial March."
A moment of disbelief so sharp and unexpected washed over the marching graduates, and Ned actually laughed out loud when he saw the bug-eyed expression of the boy in front of him as he turned to face his classmates. Ned was out on the pavement between the field and the school at this point, so he could see someone running across the football field up ahead, but he was still slightly disappointed that was all he could see.
The song stuttered for a bit, and Ned felt a pang of panic as he realized that maybe his program could be overridden after all, but the stuttering ended just as fast.
Ned tried to find MJ behind him, but by this point a good portion of the graduates had begun a kind of flash mob dance—clapping their arms together like sharks and mouthing the words to this obnoxiously popular kids song—and he couldn't find her.
That was just as well.
Things weren't over yet.
This time, the school administrators couldn't regain control of "Pomp and Circumstance," and—also according to plan—they couldn't turn the sound system off altogether either.
Ned grinned, and the last notes of "Baby Shark" faded away—though the guffaws and dancing of his classmates barely slowed down because lingering caffeine from finals week, excitement, and raw nerves were the perfect way to destroy teenage inhibitions, his own included.
The relative silence only lasted five seconds at most, however, because that was the point that "Who Let the Dogs Out" began blowing up the sound system of the entire school.
That was also the exact moment that all heck broke loose.
It took the rest of the three-minute-and-eighteen-seconds song that was "Who Let the Dogs Out" and then the entirety of the "Cupid Shuffle" before the school administrators managed to completely shut the music down. It was slightly disappointing, too, because "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen was up next, and Ned had been looking forward to hearing everyone try to belt that one out. Who didn't know that song?
Ned, sweaty and flushed from performing his own dance moves—much to the amusement of both MJ and Betty, who had joined him halfway through "Who Let the Dogs Out" and were laughing despite themselves at the antics of their classmates—felt his phone vibrate against his leg. That would be his phone, he thought, telling him that the school had found a way to bypass his program.
Dance-time was over, but Ned wasn't.
Choking back another hysterical round of laughter as Ned tore his eyes away from a group of square-dancing theater kids, he pulled his phone out and swiftly initiated part two of his plan.
And then he waited.
The graduates slowly calmed down. It seemed that quite a few of them had joined in the dancing party, but there was definitely a subgroup of students who had bunched miserably together at the beginning of the ceremony, arms crossed, an ill expression on their faces as everyone else threw their inhibitions to the wind. Ned kind of felt bad for them, but then again, it had been a stressful past two years—they could probably afford to loosen up just a little.
As soon as order on the actual field seemed to be tentatively restored, Principal Morita began dimly and desperately shouting something through his microphone in an attempt to reassure everyone that everything was fine, and then—
All the lights that had been illuminating the football field and the path the graduates were supposed to walk alonf winked off.
The evening—which had deepened significantly since the whole ceremony had begun but which had yet to fully engulf the city—collapsed on top of them. Everything went gray.
Lots of people screamed.
Nearly everyone panicked.
And Ned kind of felt guilty over that but—
The projector screen, which he could just see a portion of past the fence surrounding the football field, turned to static and then abruptly filled up with the best tribute video Ned had ever seen for Midtown School of Science and Technology.
He had been wracking his brain in the bathroom earlier trying to come up with exactly what video he needed to show here at the end of his saboteur activities, and he had almost settled on a meme compilation entitled, "memes so clean i thought they were bleach" before he'd remembered that there was a YouTube video out there that would be perfect. One of the graduating seniors from a few years before the Blip had created it as a kind of gag that had been taken seriously instead, and it actually made Ned borderline proud to be a Tiger at his school.
Which...didn't make a lot of sense but was something that Ned had no desire to question at the moment.
Like, he didn't get emotional over his school, despite some of the cool things he'd done and experienced there, because it was still high school. Seriously. But the tribute video had been so well-made and had been so appealing from a technological as well as aesthetic standpoint that Ned couldn't resist including it in his master plan.
Plus, he figured that showing all his classmates and all the adults gathered here tonight a video highlighting how awesome Midtown School of Science and Technology was might somehow soften the blow that the graduation ceremony tonight had totally crashed and burned around them for no easily discernible reason.
The video was only a few minutes long, and as soon as it was over—the peppy music, bright photos of campus, and the smiling faces of former students fading to black—the lights came back on, the screen began broadcasting the stunned crowd and graduates again, and Ned's mission was fully accomplished.
There were a few moments of almost complete silence as everyone processed what had just occurred, and then Ned slid over to MJ's side.
"How did I do?" he whispered, nudging her with an elbow.
MJ never tore her eyes off the screen, looking distinctly uncertain as to what had just happened, but there was the smallest hint of a smirk on her face.
Soundlessly, she extended her hand in a fist bump, and Ned returned it.
"That was…really weird," Betty whispered after another second had passed.
Ned turned to her and beamed proudly.
A few moments later, two very important things happened.
First, Principal Morita somehow managed to muster the strength and presence of mind to stand onstage, take the microphone in hand, and say in a robotic voice that barely restrained his horror at what had just taken place:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the commencement ceremonies are now indefinitely postponed due to—to extenuating circumstances. The school apologizes for any inconvenience and will reschedule as soon as possible. Graduates, please return to the hallway you exited from. Parents, staff, faculty, and guests, please return to the school lobby. Thank you."
A few seconds later—before Ned could even fully process the scope of what they'd just done and as the football field and graduates slowly emerged from their daze, beginning to show signs of life once more—MJ's phone must have rung because she unzipped her robe and jerked it out of her pocket as if it were burning her leg.
Ned held his breath, and as MJ plugged one ear and accepted the call, her wide eyes slid over to meet his. She mouthed two words:
"It's May."
"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable - if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy - dwell on these things." ~Philippians 4:8