Chapter 29: Ned Leeds
Tonight was the best night Ned had in weeks! Maybe even months.
The dance was fun. It was decorated beautifully—like a winter wonderland! Great food. Good music. And he was dressed in the finest apparel he owned. He was finesse at the finest!
The best part of it all was his friends were with him. Peter, Michelle and Harry. All in one room, away from the adults (well, the supervisors of the dance don't count), goofing off and letting loose. It was a great way to end a stressful week.
Ned sat at their claimed table all by himself. He came off the dance floor, legs tired and his body sweating from grooving to the music. He reclined in his chair, relaxed now that he was no longer standing. The music played on and the chatter continued, but Ned sat peacefully in the shadows of the lights.
Until Harry came marching back to the table. His friend looked frazzled, doomed almost. Ned sat up in his seat as Harry came up. "Hey man," Ned greeted. "Did you find Michelle?"
Harry walked to his chair and swiped up his jacket. "No."
Ned blinked, surprised by the clipped response. "Oh… sorry," he said. "I thought I saw her go out those doors."
Harry shoved his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. He didn't say anything.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "I have to go."
Ned stood up. "Go? But… the dance isn't over yet!" He only got here an hour ago. Why was he leaving?
Harry button up his coat. "Family emergency," he said. "I have to go."
"Omigod! Is everything okay?" Ned asked, hurrying after Harry who started to walk off. "Do you need me to do anything? You need me to get you anything? Like a cab or food or—"
Harry whirled around. "Stop shoving food down my throat!" he snapped. "Okay?"
Ned recoiled, leaning away from Harry. "Yeah… yeah. Sure. Okay," he said, stepping back. "Sorry."
Harry breathed, regretful, but not guilty for his words. "I have to go."
It was all he offered before he stormed out of the dance. Ned stayed where he stood, unsure if he should go after him or let him be. Something bad happened. Ned knew that. Harry never yelled at him.
He went back to the table, shaken from his encounter with Harry. The lights and glitter no longer enticed him to the jubilance of the atmosphere. Even the music sounded deaf to him as he sat, staring at the empty cups and plates left on the table in front of him. Ned shoved it away, not wanting to look at it.
Phone out, Ned sent a text to Harry: Sorry for being annoying. Let me know if you need anything.
He put the phone down and waited, watching his dark screen in hopes it lit up. Time ticked passed and his phone never lit up with a new message. No new messages. Nothing. So, Ned pocketed his phone. It was clear Harry wasn't interested.
Bored and lonely, Ned looked around the gym, trying to spot Peter among the crowds. To his immense disappointment, he didn't see the familiar face of his best friend. He couldn't even find Michelle. He sat all alone at the table with no friends. He shouldn't let himself wallow over the slight snip and dismissal. Harry was angry, but not at him. There was no need to overact. He didn't do anything wrong. He wasn't at fault. No need to ruin a good night over something he didn't contribute to. Yet, Ned struggled to feel as happy as he did earlier in the evening.
"Hey!"
Ned lifted his head and saw Peter stroll up to him. The gel loosened in his hair, his soft curls unraveling, but he didn't seem to mind the upset. His smile was radiant as he took a seat beside Ned. He glowed in pure happiness, the bright lights reflecting in his brown eyes and the sparkles glittering his pale complexion.
When Peter went to speak again, he faltered, noticing Ned's hurt. "You all right?" he asked. "You look a bit... spooked."
"Oh, um, yeah," Ned said, clearing his throat and replacing the bummer frown with an attempted smile. "It's just that Harry… I don't know. He's upset."
"Really? Is everything okay?" Peter looked around the gym. "Where is he?"
"He left," Ned said. "He came back, grabbed his coat and left. Said something about 'family emergency'."
"What? I hope everything is okay," Peter said, concerned. "Did he not say what exactly?"
Ned shook his head. "Nope. Only that he had to leave and so… he did."
Peter bit his lower lip, looking back to the doors. "I bet it had something to do with his dad," he said. "Maybe his dad made him come back home?"
Ned hadn't thought of that. Maybe that was why Harry was upset. He didn't want to leave, but Norman Osborn was making him leave. Ned hung out very little around Harry's dad, but he got the impression Norman wasn't very kind to Harry. Not that he raised a hand to Harry, but his ignorance of him and the lack of interest in Harry's life would be enough to drive a complicated relationship between them.
"Harry did say he and his dad got into a fight earlier today," Ned said.
"Don't he and his dad get into a lot of fights though?"
"Yeah, but Harry seemed a bit angrier over this one."
Peter bobbed his head in understanding. "Must not be easy living with Norman Osborn," he commented. "The man is brilliant, but…"
"Intense?" Ned offered. "Insane? Intolerable?"
"One of those things."
Ned recalled the night they all met Harry's father—the great Norman Osborn himself! They all went over to Harry's apartment to hang-out. It was the most exquisite apartment Ned had ever seen. Two stories, on top of one of the most expensive real estate in Manhattan. Carpeted floors, central AC and a striking chandelier in the entrance wowed Ned to the point he didn't understand how this one family had all this money to waste on such luxuries. Harry said his father was on a business trip, so they would have the whole apartment to themselves. He gave them the grand tour, he, Peter and Michelle amazed by the vast room and exquisite items that laid about the apartment. Still, they had fun, doing normal things such as listening to music, checking out Harry's telescope and flipping through first-edition books Harry's mother collected when she was alive. It was fun and good until Harry's father burst down the bedroom door, surprising everyone. Ned nearly peed in his pants.
Norman's surprise appearance wasn't the most awkward moment of that night. That moment belonged at the dinner table. Ned didn't notice it at all until afterwards when Peter and Michelle talked about it when they left the apartment building. Norman's strong interest in Peter and disregard of everyone else put the table at unease. Ned hardly noticed, focusing on the food and letting the others converse with Norman as he was sure he would only embarrass himself in front of the man. In all honesty, he was glad to not be in Norman's line of vision. He felt sorry that Peter had to sit there with the glaring focus of Norman Osborn on him. Peter surprisingly did well and managed to excuse himself, to which he and Michelle followed.
Ned only say Norman one more time after that. It was for the basketball game to which he remembered Harry grumbling about how his father was angry that he wasted money on an unused ticket because Peter could no longer come to the game. Something about needing to stay and work on something with the Accords. Ned wasn't quite sure. Since then, Norman hadn't been around and Ned never returned to Harry's apartment.
The music changed. The crowd started to thin. A few adults went around to empty tables and seat, collecting the abandoned cups and plates and napkins. The dance was drawing to a close. A few girls drifted closer to the table, whispering to one another as they tried to take secretive glances in their direction.
Correction: in Peter's direction.
"Hey," Ned elbowed Peter. "Gwen Stacy is looking at you."
To Ned's surprise, Peter didn't even bother to look over. "A lot of people are looking at me," he said, but not in a bragging way. More as an observational statement.
"But this is Gwen Stacy!" Ned couldn't believe in his friend's casual indifference. After Liz Allan left for Portland, Gwen Stacy became the 'It Girl'. Beautiful, popular and a sweetheart. She was the girl everyone loved and wanted to be. Well, everyone except Michelle. She was happy being herself.
Then Ned remembered that Peter hadn't been attending Midtown the past two years. He knew little of Gwen Stacy. They attended a few classes together, but Gwen kept company with her few close friends and didn't roam in the same circles as Peter and Ned prior to the attack at Midtown.
Still, there was no doubt that Gwen wasn't the most beautiful girl on campus.
The corner of Peter's lips tugged upward. "Why don't you ask her for a dance?"
Ned shook his head. "Oh… no," he said. "She won't dance with me."
"Why not?"
"Cause I'm not cool."
Peter curled his nose. "What? Dude—you're cool!" he argued for his friend. "I mean… look at you! You look sway!"
Ned's cheeks burned at his friend's compliment. But still, people like Gwen Stacy didn't dance with losers like Ned. "I dunno, man," he said. "I'm kind of tired of dancing anyway. People are leaving…"
Peter pulled his chair up to his friend, blocking his attempt to get out of his seat. "Ned—let me tell you something that I have learned in the past year," he said, bracing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't let people put you in a box. You're a great guy! One of the best people I have ever known in my life. You can get any girl, Ned. Any! All you gotta do is step outside that box. Shove it aside."
"You really think so?" Ned said, hopeful.
"Of course! Now, go and ask her for a dance before it's over!"
The confidence boost struck a match within him. Ned nodded, determined. He got up from his seat and walked over to where Gwen and Betty Bryant stood. He took a deep breath as he made his approach.
He looked back one more time at Peter. His friend gave him a thumbs up as Michelle suddenly appeared, taking his old seat.
This was it. Time to shove the box aside.
Gwen noticed him first and smiled. "Hey Ned!" she said. "I like your tie."
Ned looked at his tie. It was a striped blue and yellow tie, to honor their school colors. "Oh, um, thank you," he blubbered. "School spirit."
"Yeah, I figured."
Ned went silent. He was supposed to say something. Why wasn't he saying anything? Damn it! He needed to say something. Gwen and Betty were staring at him, waiting. Betty and Gwen exchanged odd looks and Ned felt himself blush even more. Why wasn't he saying anything?
It was a bad idea. He shouldn't have gone up to her. He's a complete fool! He wasn't cool. He didn't deserve to dance with someone as pretty as Gwen.
Suddenly, Flash skated on over to the group. He looked posh and rich, far different from Ned's cheap suit and colored tie. Hair styled like those wannabe California-boys he admired greatly. "Hey, yo, Gwen?" he gestured in his signature flashy manner. "You wanna dance with me?
Gwen blinked in surprise by Flash's invitation. She quickly threw a glance to Ned, but again, he didn't say anything. He stood there like an idiot. Quiet and unblinking.
With his lack of response, Gwen turned back to Flash and nodded. "Sure," she answered and went with him to the dance floor. Before she left though, she gave Ned an apologetic grimace. There was no need for her to do so. After all, Ned was an idiot for saying nothing.
Resigned, Ned shoved his hands in his pockets, turning back to retreat to the table when he was stopped by a tapped finger.
"Hey, Ned?" came Betty's voice. She looked like a ballerina in her pink dress. "The DJ is about to play the last song of the night. Do you want to dance?"
Ned's lower lip dropped. His words tumbled out into nonsense. His mind churned too fast, unable to comprehend what he heard or if he heard anything at all. Did Betty Bryant ask him to dance with her? "Um… I, err… I-I… sort of… um…"
Unable to get words out, Ned enthusiastically nodded instead as words failed him.
Betty smiled big that her teeth showed. "Great!" she said, taking Ned's hand in her own. "I hate dancing on my own."
And Ned never imagined that he would ever be dragged onto a dance floor (or anywhere) by a beautiful girl. He swore he was dreaming, but his racing heart-rate, perspiration in his armpits, and the constant feel of Betty's hand in his own, ensured him that it was reality. Not a dream at all.
The DJ announced the last song, a classic—Don't Stop Believin'. The crowd cheered and the music started, everyone singing along. Ned watched, amazed to see Betty singing along to the tune and words. She had a pretty voice. Probably why she was the school's news anchor.
Betty nudged Ned. "Don't tell me you don't know the words?"
Ned knew them and with Betty's egging him to join in, he sang along. Not well, but too many people were repeating the words and jumping up and down. The nervousness he carried unraveled, slipping off him as he sang louder and dance more freely than the stiff bobs he did earlier.
The lights went Technicolor, flashing so fast that Ned thought he would throw up if it continued on. When it came to the last line, they all sang or shouted as loud as they could that it echoed even after the music died. Rounds of applause followed as the adults ushered kids off the floor and the DJ started to pack his records.
Ned turned to Betty. "Thanks," he said, breathless. "I had a lot of fun."
"Me too," Betty said. "Thanks for saving the last dance for me."
Ned's face went velvet and he nervously giggled as Betty walked away to grab her coat and belongings. Ned sighed, deeply, butterflies in his stomach as he relived the feeling of dancing with the most beautiful girl in the school.
He backed off the dance floor, heading to the table where he left his coat. Peter still sat at the table, but not alone. Michelle returned, taking his old seat next to Peter. From the looks of it, they didn't join in for the last song. Their chairs scooted together, knees bumping into each other, heads lowered and speaking quickly to one another. Both were smiling. Happy. Happiest Ned has ever seen his two friends. Ever.
The dance ended. Their small gang grabbed their coats and hustled out of the gym. Peter already informed Ned that he was staying the night with him, which got Ned ecstatic as it had been too long since they had a sleepover. They had a lot of catching up to do. Just him and Peter.
They stepped out into the ice-cold night where cars lined the sidewalks with parents and cabbies. Michelle's father was one of the parents waiting for their child to come out. He honked, waving to her in his big winter coat and black ear muffs. Michelle did a quick wave in return.
"That's my dad," she said to them, her parka covering up her dress. "I better get going."
She didn't leave. Not yet. Michelle stood on the steps beside them, staring before her lips turned up into a slight smile. Then, she turned on her feet and went down the stairs to where her father waited. Ned glanced from Michelle to Peter, whose eyes watched Michelle get into the car and drive off. It was only until the car turned around the corner, out of sight, that Peter looked to him.
"So... should we take the bus or subway?" Peter asked.
They decided on taking the bus, like they used to do when they were younger. When the bus screeched to the stop, Ned paid for both of their rides with his MetroCard and Peter reimbursed him. They slid into the blue, carpeted seats that smelled of body odor. No one noticed them. Heads down, eyes glowing blue as they clutched their phones with laughs or furrowed brows.
They had no clue that Spider-man sat in their presence.
Peter wasn't even bothered by the lack of recognition. Ned didn't even think he noticed it at all. He was happy to sit next to the window, drumming on his knee as the bus bumbled down the streets. He was being Peter Parker, before the hoopla and trauma.
Ned and Peter talked, catching up on all the things. Peter told him about his new motorcycle and Captain America (yeah—freakin' Captain America!) taught him how to ride one. Ned asked if he could come up during a weekend to ride it. Peter said he could come up when Tony wasn't around the compound.
"He hates it," Peter informed Ned.
Ned wasn't sure why as he thought Iron Man owned several motorcycles. Ned talked about school, explaining the whole drama of the hierarchy and the decathlon team's winning streak. Ned went over the championship meet. Unlike last year's competition, it didn't come down to a death match. They were ahead by ten points. They dominated the championship and celebrated all night. Michelle, Harry and him stayed up way past midnight.
The bus drove down his street. Ned and Peter got up, moving to the back to get off. As they got to the rear doors, the bus hit a pothole and the vehicle jerked. Ned grabbed the seats to stop himself from falling. Peter glued his fingertips to the ceiling, keeping a balance that drew a few arched eyebrows in his direction.
The bus slowed to the stop. Peter unglued himself and Ned hurried down the bus's steps with Peter following. A few curious gazes peered out the window in their direction. The bus rolled again, driving away from them before any of the commuters could freak out that Spider-man was with them the entire time.
Ned and Peter strolled the sidewalk, not minding the nip in the cold. Winter certainly arrived in New York. No snow yet, but it promised to come. Ned could see his house. It was in sight. He checked around him, scanning for anything out of the ordinary.
"What are you doing?"
Ned jumped, hand clutching his heart. "Stars! Don't do that."
"Do what?" Peter questioned.
"Scare me like that!"
"All I did was ask you a question," Peter said and he glanced around to all the spots Ned was looking at. "What are you looking for?"
"Bad guys."
The day Captain America, Falcon and police showed up outside his lawn was something Ned would never forget. He cried when told that Peter went missing and a body was found outside his home. Tremors kept him awake and his stomach was in turmoil to the point he vomited multiple times during the night. Peter's kidnapping brought back terrible memories of Midtown's attack. Captain America told him and his family that everything was under control, but Ned didn't believe him. His friend was gone again! Right outside his house.
Since then Ned had been extremely vigilant whenever he left his home. His parents were very protective as well. They wouldn't let him leave their house on his own, always had to be driven everywhere. It lasted for a month, but Ned still got nervous when he walked home at night. Or early in the morning. Or if a shadow moved.
Peter clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder again and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We're fine. Trust me," he said. "My spidey-sense says we're safe."
Ned relaxed. He forgot about Peter's sixth sense. Nonetheless, he kept up his fast pace, willing to make it to the front porch steps as soon as possible.
They got to his house and hurried inside. Ned closed the door just as his mother popped into the foyer. She beamed at Peter, coming over and taking his face in her hands.
"Look at how much you have grown!" she gushed. "I swear you boys don't ever stop growing! What do you do to keep getting taller? Here! Let me take your jacket."
Ned and Peter passed their winter coats to her. She carried them off to the closet in the hallway. When she returned she had a duffel in her hand.
"Your driver stopped by and passed along this," she handed it off to Peter. "An overnight bag."
Peter thanked her and took it from her hands. Ned told his mom they were going upstairs to his room to get ready for bed, but his mother had other ideas.
"But first!" Ned's mother scurried away right as his father came down the stairs.
"Oh? Hey there, Pete," his father greeted, clasping Peter's hand like he normally did. "How you doing?"
They shared polite pleasantries until Ned's mother returned with a camera in her hand. She ushered the two boy together. "Come on," she urged. "Closer. Smile!"
"Mom..." Ned groaned as the flash went off. "The dance is already over."
"So? I didn't get a picture of my son and his friend before the dance," she complained. "I have to get it now. Peter, dear? Stop messing with the bowtie. It's coming undone."
Peter dropped his hand from his neck and two more flashes went off before Ned's father stopped his mother from doing any more photographs. "The kids are exhausted," he said. "Let them go up to their room and sleep."
His mother's face dipped. "Oh… but I wanted to hear all about it."
"In the morning, Mom," Ned called as he pushed Peter to go up the stairs. "Good night!"
They clambered up the stairs, happy to return to the bedroom where they spent their boyhood days building Legos, playing video games and geeking over Star Wars. Peter already undid his bowtie and shed off his suit-jacket. They changed into their sleepwear, brushed their teeth and Peter took a shower to rinse off the remaining gel in his hair.
Then, they sat around the room, talking and reminiscing their childhood days when things were less stressful and more carefree. Nothing beat the childhood games and fuss over innocent problems that seemed incredibly important at the time. Good, old days, they decided.
"So glad you're here," Ned said after a moment, spinning in his desk chair. "It's been a while since we had one of these. Just you and me, you know?"
"Yeah, I do," Peter replied, reclined on a bean bag opposite of Ned's desk chair. "When did our lives get so crazy?"
"When you ran off to join the Avengers."
"Still not an Avenger, Ned."
Ned shrugged. In his mind, Peter was an Avenger. "Kind of wish Harry could have joined us."
"Me too," Peter agreed. "Did he ever get back to you?"
"No," Ned said. He and Peter sent text messages to him again, asking if everything was all right, but Harry never responded. "I hope he's okay."
"Me too," Peter said again. He took a swig of water from his glass. "So… you and Betty, huh?"
Ned blushed and casted his eyes down. "Oh, you know," he muttered. "She wanted to dance with someone for the last song. I was there and so…"
"Gotta stop selling yourself short, Ned," Peter said. "She asked you!"
"We didn't slow dance or anything. Just… danced next to each other. Wouldn't make a big deal out of it."
"You still got to dance with a girl," Peter said, regardless of Ned's dismissal. "Plus, I saw you smiling out there. You looked really happy."
Ned nodded. "Yeah, I was happy. Today was a good day, wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah," Peter affirmed with his own nod of approval. "One of the best days I have had in a long while."
Ned noticed Peter's starry-eyed expression. A trace of a smile lingered on his face as he took furtive looks to his phone. He was humming too. A song that played earlier at the dance. Ned recognized it as Perfect.
"So…" Ned drew the word out to grab Peter's attention. "You and Michelle?"
Peter's face drew closed. "Huh?"
"You and Michelle looked like you were having a good time dancing with each other," Ned commented. "I didn't even know you could dance like that."
"Mr. Stark taught me," Peter answered. "But, MJ is a good dancer, so it wasn't too hard."
"Uh-huh."
Peter's mouth firmed into a straight line. "Don't start, Ned."
"I didn't say anything."
"I know what you're thinking."
"You can read minds now?" Ned gasped, peering up at Peter's forehead as if he would be able to see telepathy from there.
Peter brows scrunched into an incredulous look. "What? No!" he said. "Ned—MJ and I are only friends. There's nothing else between us."
"Uh-huh."
Peter frowned. "Come on, Ned," he said. "Don't act like that."
"I'm not doing anything," Ned said, hands up. "Just saw you and Michelle dancing together… during a slow song."
"So?"
"Just pointing it out."
Peter stared at him a little longer. "We're just friends."
"You said that."
"I mean it."
"Uh-huh."
"Ned!"
Ned went silent. He watched Peter fidget, trying to control his face from divulging anything. Ned saw right through it all. They were friends for far too long for him to not be able to read Peter. "You know… Michelle likes you. For some time actually."
Peter picked his head up instantly. "H-how do you know?"
Michelle Jones make keep a stoic expression at all times, but Ned could tell behind the blank facade. While others look at her and see a cold-stone punk or a shy snub, Ned saw something else entirely.
"It's the way she's around you. Always looking at you and noticing things about you. Oh—like the time she said you quit marching band and the robotics club," Ned said, remembering that awkward moment in decathlon practice. Michelle tried to brush it off as being observant, but Ned thought differently. "She always noticed you, Peter. Plus, she lets you call her MJ—"
"Everyone calls her MJ," Peter dismissed.
Ned shook his head. "Err… no. Only you," he said. "Harry once called her that nickname and she shot him down almost instantly. You're the only person allowed to call her MJ."
Peter started to squirm, unable to meet Ned's eye. His fingers twitched to the nape of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly to keep his hands busy. To simply be busy to avoid Ned's inquisition.
Ned pushed forward. "And there was a bit of time you and Michelle were missing," he said. "Didn't see either of you in the gym for a while."
Peter's lips rolled, his eyes enlarging for a moment. His shoulders hunched, head lowered and he got his fingers to drum again.
Ned recognized those signs and his face burst with excitement. "Omigod! You and Michelle!"
"No… Ned—"
"Are you guys a couple now? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" Ned rapidly questioned. "Did you guys kiss? Wait… how long have you two been dating? Are you dating? You and Michelle…"
"Ned!" Peter shouted a little louder. "You're overacting. Nothing is… there's nothing—"
Ned snorted, not believing in Peter's flubbing lies. "Uh-huh," he said, face split in a giddy smile. "You're not a very good liar, Peter. You're turning redder every time I say Michelle's name… there it goes again! Redder!"
Peter rolled his eyes and got up from the bean bag. "I'm going to bed," he decided, not wanting to spiral into such conversation. "I'm about to pass out."
Peter lunged over Ned to get to the bunkbed. Ned twirled in his chair. "You and Michelle," he said. "The new power couple in school!"
"Not a couple, Ned."
"Uh-huh."
Peter resigned in exasperation before he easily leapt up to the top bunk. Ned chuckled as he crawled to the lower bunk. He threw the covers back and got underneath them, his arms reaching out to the lamp to shut down the only light source in the room.
The room went dark and Ned nestled in his bed. "Hey, Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"I think it's cool you and Michelle are together," Ned said, serious and not teasingly as he did earlier. "I think you guys are perfect for one another."
There was a long pause, silence from Peter's end. Ned didn't know if Peter would answer, but his friend's voice carried back down to him. "Thanks, Ned," he said and Ned thought he heard a smile in that tone. "Good-night."
"Good-night."
Ned dropped his head on the pillow. All the adrenaline he earned from the dance and revelation about Peter and Michelle evaporated, leaving him sluggish and exhausted. His muscles responded accordingly, followed by his eyes and his mind. The room got darker and darker as his eyes slid to a close, his mind tuning down to sweet blissfulness.
Today was a good day. The best.
Ned woke to a hand slapping him on the arm and a harsh voice in his ear. "Ned! Wake up!"
Ned started, dazed by the sudden pull between sleep and waking. He blinked a few times to gain control and he saw Peter hanging upside-down from his top bunk.
"What are you doing?" Ned yawned, stretching his arms over his head.
"Something's happening downstairs."
That got Ned wide awake in an instant. His immediate thought was of his parents, being in danger by the same people who kidnapped Peter months ago. He listened, but he didn't hear any scuffling or objects breaking or even shouts. Everything was muffled. Voices exchanged and then footsteps. Heavy footsteps that drew closer at it climbed the stairs.
Peter dropped down from the bunk and Ned pushed off his covers to join him. "What do we do?"
Peter looked pensive at the door, waiting, deliberating until a knock on the door forced them to react.
They both jumped back as Ned's father's voice replied after the knock. "Ned? Boys?"
The door cracked open and Ned's father stood in the soft glow of the hallway's lights. Behind him was a much larger man, standing almost a head taller than his father. Ned's father shuffled in upon seeing the boys awake, making room for the stranger to enter.
It was no stranger at all. It was Happy Hogan.
Peter looked surprised. "H-Happy?" he blundered a bit. "W-What are you doing here?"
"Came to get ya, kid," Happy said, scanning the room. "Where's the suit?"
Before Peter could ask more questions, Happy moved across the room to where Peter hung up the suit he wore to winter formal. Happy fixed the suit on the hanger and got the bowtie to hook properly in its position.
The bodyguard/chauffer glanced over his shoulder to them. "Kid, come on," he snapped his fingers to Peter. "Get some clothes on."
Ned was confused. He looked at the time. It only read two in the morning. Peter told him he was spending the night. So, what was Happy doing at this hour? He didn't need to be here until at least eight in the morning.
He noticed that Peter's frown deepened. Apparently, Happy's visit was a surprise for him too. "Tony promised!" Peter said, upset.
Happy quickly threw the cover over the suit and began to zip it up. "It's not Tony who called me to get you," he answered without even noticing Peter's frustration. "It was your aunt. Now, get some pants on. Do you have a sweater or something? What about a jacket?"
"His jacket is downstairs," Ned's father answered.
"Oh, okay, good."
Peter was not happy. His brows furrowed intensively, mouth squished into a pout as he strode over to where his phone was. "I'm calling my aunt."
"Go ahead, kid," Happy said, not at all concerned. "She's been trying to get a hold of you."
Ned went to Peter's side and saw a dozen or so text messages and missed called from May Parker. Peter checked his messages. They all read the same thing—stay indoors and wait for Happy to come. "What's going on?"
Happy zipped the cover over the suit. "Hell should I know," he said. "Get pants on kid! I'm not taking you outside in your boxers."
"Ned?"
Ned turned to his father, who gestured him to follow him outside to the hallway. Ned went with his dad, following his father to the stairs. "What's going on?" he asked, hoping his father would tell him. Were they in danger? Did they need to leave their house?
His father didn't say anything, only led him down the hallway.
"Dad?" Ned became nervous. He hated when adults didn't say anything. "Do we have to leave? Are bad people coming? Is the army coming?"
His father shook his head. "Everything is fine, kiddo," he said. "Just wanted to give them a bit of privacy."
When they got downstairs to the living room, his mother was awake and wearing her robe over her nightgown. She stood in the living room, rambling to a red-headed individual who stayed stoic and poised throughout his mom's utterances. His mother spotted him right away and ignored the guest.
"Ned dear!" she hurried to her son, but Ned didn't even look at his mom.
His eyes were glued to the visitor. The red-head turned and Ned's breath was completely knocked right out of his lungs. His mouth hung open, his legs jelly, as he gaped at the Black Widow. Who was standing inside his home. In his living room. Listening to his mom!
"Y-You're... you're Black Widow!" Ned gasped, pointing to her. Although, he realized a little too late he should not have pointed.
The famed assassin cocked an elegant eyebrow up. Her lips half-amused by his exclamation. "You must be the famous Ned Leeds."
Ned thought his heart died out. She knew his name! She knew him!
"Peter talks about you," Black Widow revealed her source as Ned continued to gape at her. "Cap even told me you tried to save him from Ross."
Ned tried to speak, but nothing came out of his voice. Only a croak, followed by a cough. Black Widow's slender brows arched higher, amused by his nervous stutter. Ned, however, was mortified. Blush crept up his neck, to his cheeks and all the way to the tip of his ears.
A louder commotion happened upstairs. Ned looked up to see Peter dragging his duffel and Happy following him with the suit all zipped up and protected from any type of damage. Happy was talking—more like scolding Peter.
"Why would you not bring a sweater?" he pestered Peter. "It's freezing outside!"
"I brought a coat," Peter argued as they came down the stairs. Peter's hair was in disarray. No time to fix it or even comb it properly. "Why? Are we planning to be outside for a while?"
Happy grumbled and when Peter landed in the foyer, he spotted the small group huddled in the hallway. He glanced at Ned, then to his parents, only to stop at the one person no one ever expected to find in the Leeds's residence.
"Nat?" Peter said, surprised by Black Widow's appearance. "What are you doing here?"
Black Widow brushed passed Ned and went to Peter. "I came to help Happy pick you up."
Peter's face paled, becoming highly aware that something was deathly wrong. "What's going on? Is it Dead—"
Happy cut him off when he threw his jacket in his face. "Coat. Now," the chauffeur ordered. "I'm not going to be blamed if you get frostbite."
Peter begrudgingly put on his coat, but Ned saw the nervous ticks as he buttoned up his coat. Happy handed him his shoes as well and Peter slipped his feet into those shoes. As he tied them, he looked up to Black Widow.
"Is Aunt May okay?" Peter asked and Ned heard the anxious worry in his friend's voice. If anything ever happened to Aunt May, Peter would disintegrate into nothingness. "She's not hurt is she?"
Black Widow shook her head. "She's fine."
"Then what's going—"
"Are you done tying your shoes?" Happy asked, annoyed that Peter was taking so long to get ready.
Peter huffed, but he finished up knotting his laces together. He stood to his full height and grabbed his duffel bag, ready to go back outside in the cold world. Happy reached for the door to shuffle Peter out, but his friend moved away from Happy's reach.
"Can't I at least say goodbye this time?" Peter asked, looking from Happy to Black Widow.
Happy and Black Widow shared a quick glance before Black Widow nodded to Peter. "Yeah, go ahead," she said, stepping aside to let Peter have room to make it to Ned and his parents.
Peter squeezed passed Black Widow, shuffling down the hallway to join Ned's campout. His friend looked tired and stressed. No amount of eye rubbing would wear away those heavy bags under his eyes.
But, Peter morphed his face into a casual expression. No longer holding his petulant upset at being dragged from his bed. Although, Ned knew Peter wasn't happy at being woken so early in the morning for something that may or may not be bad. His aunt's messages looked a bit troubling.
"I guess I have to go," Peter announced. There wasn't much else to say. Ned wished he didn't have to leave. He knew Peter wished the same.
"Is everything okay, though?" Ned tentatively asked. "Nothing… nobody is coming for you, right?"
Peter shrugged. He didn't appear to know what was going on. He knew as much as Ned. "I don't know, but I'll let you know once I do. I promise," he said, raking his nervous fingers through his hair. "Sorry I have to leave in the middle of the night like this. I can make it up to you. What about New Year's Eve at my place?
Ned squeaked in delight at the prospect. "New Year's Eve at the Avengers' Compound?!" he said. "I'm there!"
Peter laughed a little and they embraced. "Talk to you soon, man."
Ned knew Peter meant it. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Of course," Peter said. "You're my 'Guy in the Chair'. I'll always call you."
Ned smiled, but seeing the sad looks on Black Widow's and Happy's face made it hard for him to keep it in place. Peter said his goodbyes to Ned's parents before he joined up with his entourage. Happy led the charge, grumbling about the winter season while Black Widow walked in rhythm with Peter, speaking to him.
"How was your dance?" Black Widow asked as they exited the house in the dead of night.
Ned never heard Peter's response and his father closed the door and double-locked it. Ned's mother kept rubbing her hands up and down her arms, biting down her lower lip. Her eyes never left the front door.
Ned flickered a glance between his parents. "Everything is okay, right?" he asked them. "Nothing—"
"Of course," Ned's father recovered into a false sense of security for him. "They, um, his aunt wanted him home. Worried about him. That sort of thing."
Ned's mother nervously fidgeted, looking away from her son to the kitchen. "Let me make you a cup of hot chocolate," she said, already running off to the kitchen before Ned could decline. "It'll warm your cold nerves."
With his mother gone and his father reclusively mute, Ned got the feeling that something wasn't right. Something big was about to happen. Something that would shatter his world all over again.
Ned suddenly didn't feel so good anymore. He could use that hot chocolate now.