"Hey Ned, you good?"

Ned's heart exploded from his chest, brain going into overdrive and head practically hitting the roof at the sound of the voice just behind his left ear.

"Michelle!" He gasped, spinning around to face his friend. She was smirking, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I was working, MJ. God, why are we friends," Ned huffed, turning ever so slowly back to his homework.

He sat in the library, at a two-seater table, by himself. It was almost silent, apart from the occasionally flip of a page or clatter of a pencil. How Michelle had managed to sneak up on him, he wasn't sure. Maybe his mind was...elsewhere.

"Oh, sorry," she retorted, sounding very-much not sorry, "it's not my fault you're a...loser." Her voice pitched before she could say 'loser', completely out of control, and her eyes turned red.

"Wanna sit? Or do you have to go to some protest thingy, like you usually do?" Ned asked, laying his pencil on top of his unfinished homework. She didn't reply, but Ned watched as she walked to a different table to get a spare chair.

She brought it back and sat down in between Ned and the empty chair. Ned raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Uh, you do realise there was already a chair here, right?" He asked, gesturing to it from across the table.

"Yep." She said shortly, placing her bag on her lap.

"O-okay?" Ned said uncertainly, and when she didn't elaborate, he didn't press. He knew what she was capable of, and he sure as hell didn't want to face it.

She unzipped her bag noisily, causing Ned to duck his head in slight embarrassment, she pulled out her monstrous book. Ned squinted at it – it was practically as big as the bible, maybe bigger. About half the size of their math textbook, though.

"What you reading?" He asked casually.

"I Am Number Four, you wouldn't know it." She deadpanned in reply. He didn't, she was right.

"Oh, well I'm reading Star Wars." He exclaimed, showing her the ultra-skinny book adaption of the third movie. She pulled a face.

"Are you, like, sixteen or what?" She asked, smirking.

"Are you, like, gonna be nice or what?" He shot back, slumping in his seat in a fake pout that was all-too real.

He heard her hesitate, before saying; "Sorry."

"All good." He assured and couldn't help the grimace that grew on his face.

Despite her usual quips, retorts and witty comebacks, she was being way too considerate for Michelle Jones. Never once, until after...well, you know, that day...Ned was quite sure he'd never heard MJ say something as normal and emotional as 'sorry'. Now, she'd been saying it too often for her to be okay. But Ned didn't know how to talk to most girls, let alone an MJ – which seemed to be its own species in itself.

So, he found he was avoiding her. A part of him said that he had to ask her how she is and have some deep and meaningful conversation with her. Another part told him to run. The biggest part told him to ignore her very existence entirely. But, until Peter, Ned had been ignored – no one had wanted to be friends with him all through primary school, just because of his weight, his appearance, his individuality. Ned knew for a fact, that people didn't like MJ because she was different. If Ned left her, she'd be truly alone; not that Ned meant she had no other friends. Though...she didn't. She would've had P—

Pe-Pete—

But, well...you know. He was gone, now. No two ways about it. So, Ned had to be here for his friend – the one he had left.

Oh God, it hurt so much—

"So...what do you wanna talk about?" Ned asked, fidgeting with his collar. "A-anything?" He stuttered, looking up at MJ.

She had her book in her hands, eyes glued firmly to the pages. Ned sighed and was about to go back to finishing his social sciences homework, when—he noticed that her eyes weren't moving. Normally, she was able to read so fast, her eyes would twitch from side to side every few seconds. But right now?

Her eyes weren't moving. It was like she was stuck on a word she didn't quite understand, but Ned had always thought no word was too hard for Michelle.

He was about to ask, mouth open, words on his tongue, when she lunged for her bag again. She rummaged through it, in her own little world, oblivious to the watching Ned. She tugged out her pencil case, then proceeded to scour through that. Eventually, she held a Fluro-yellow highlighter in her hand.

Then, she brought it to the page, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Her eyes quickly searched for that one damn word, that seemed to be tugging on the inside of her brain. Like something was trying to tell her something, but that something was something she had to find out using something. Fill in the blank; or, in this case, the 'something's. It nagged at her.

Another definition to search up on Google? Yep.

She found it, scratching the ink of the highlighter messily over the words. She didn't really care that it ruined the few pages underneath it – all that mattered was that (for some reason) she remembered that one, cursed word.

Raft.

...

"Uh, who is this?" Tony asked, as a girl's voice echoed through the Bluetooth speakers in his car.

"Does that really matter? Can you just answer my question?" The emotionless reply came through, surprising Tony. This girl could only be seventeen, eighteen, and she was talking to Tony Stark like this?

(It reminded him of him—)

"No, how about you answer my question and tell me who you are before I hang up the phone," Tony replied sweetly, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

There was a long pause from down the line, where the girl seemed to be debating her answer. Finally;

"Michelle Jones."

"Oh shi—" Tony began, face whitening.

"Language," she interrupted, but with no hint of amusement in her tone, "now, answer my questions. The prison—?"

"Yes. It's called the Raft." Tony answered her previous question with a confused but polite. He'd been told many times not to cross one Michelle Jones, and that if he did, Peter didn't want to hurt his back digging Tony an early grave, so he would just have to dump his body in a river. Charming.

"Okay...and you were the one who shut it down?"

"Well, Captain Rogers was the one who freed the prisoners, and once we'd come to a pact, yes. I was the one who shut it down." Tony replied, taking a too-sharp turn into the side street that lead to the dodgy part of Queens.

"You could've just said yes, saved yourself a good five seconds of over-explaining it," MJ drawled, and Tony could practically see her roll her eyes through the speaker, "and lastly, if it's shut down and all, then why is Mr Thaddeus Ross still marked as the CEO of Raft Prisons?" Her voice was as cold as death itself.

"What?" Tony near-shouted, car screeching to a halt, most likely leaving skid marks on the dirty tarmac.

"It says here; 'General Thaddeus E. Ross, former Lieutenant General of the United States Army, Chairman of Board for the Sokovia Accords, CEO of Raft Prisons, issues statement...' blah, blah, blah, the rest is crap." Michelle elaborated.

Tony felt his gut clench in a weird anger, though reason tried to find its way in. Maybe the article was just out-dated.

"Dated the 15th of August, six days ago." MJ offered, as if reading his mind. Now, Tony wasn't sure how he was feeling – there was a weird, twisting sensation in his gut that made no sense. Like something was trying to tell him something...

"You know what? Tomorrow afternoon, come to my lab," Tony told Michelle, surprising himself with his offer, "we have a few things to sort out." He finished, switching off his car engine, while looking up at the rickety sign post with an ache in his heart.

"You got it." She replied, only surprising Tony further. Maybe she was as deep into this as he was.

"Oh, and bring your friend...Ted, isn't it? Yeah, bring him too." Tony added, pulling his leather jacket over his shoulders and unclipping his seat belt – not in that order.

"I have some business to attend to, in the meantime." Tony sighed, about to hang up on the girl.

"What sorta business?" She asked, her voice casual, like she hadn't just asked a basically-celebrity what he did in his spare time. He wasn't going to answer, or at least truthfully, but then he realised; this girl was one of Peter's best friends.

"May Parker, sorta business." He answered shortly, reaching for the red button on the dashboard that meant "hang up".

"Oh." Was her clipped reply.

Michelle hung up before he could even get close.

--

a super short chapter for you -- i'm going on a road trip soon, so I figured you'd want part of a chapter rather than wait a week or so for the whole chapter. besides, the next few scenes aren't very related to what happened in this chapter, and would've been too long to add.

anyway, i hope you enjoy what you got!

if you have any questions/comments, i would love to hear them! let me know in the comments, or dm me on instagram (spideychellehoco). lol my shameless self-promo ;)

ly all <3

LuvForStydia xx