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When Flash had been taking the short cut home from school, he hadn't expected to get jumped. He hadn't been expecting to have a gun shoved to his head, and he surely didn't expect Spider-Man to come and save the day hardly even five minutes after the man had begun to interrogate him.

Well, he almost didn't expect Spider-Man to show up.

When the man had grabbed him, he had been instantly overcome with terror. He flailed desperately as he was dragged into the nearby alleyway, trying to scream out for help as the large and meaty hands clasped over his mouth. There was no one around, the place was deserted. Even if there were people around that could help them, would they? Would they really help him?

His first thought had been- why him?

What had he done to get jumped by some random stranger? What did this attacker have in store for him and why, out of all people, did it have to be him? Flash just had to be the one walking by himself in the deserted part of the city, didn't he? He should've gone his usual route.

The man was talking to him, or more so yelling, but he was unable to understand what he was saying. He was screaming in his ear, his hot breath fanning down Flash's neck as he writhed, trying desperately to break out of the man's strong hold. He tried to kick the man's crotch like he had been taught, but he was in such a position there was no way he could get any opportunity to hit the man where it would hurt the most. He tried to throw punches, but his arms were pinned, and this was when the fear really started to settle in and make itself home inside of his chest.

Flash was rarely scared of things, and when he was, it had to be bad.

And when he saw the gun in the man's hand, the panic was sudden and trying to claw it's way out of his chest as tears burned at his eyelids. The man made his mistake of lowering the hand that had been clasped around Flash's mouth, and without hesitating, he screamed as loud as he could.

"Help! Someone h-" The hand smacked onto his face so hard he saw stars, his body falling limp for a few seconds. But only a few seconds after that, he faded back into reality and resumed his struggling, bucking his body in all different directions in an attempt to break free. What the hell did this guy want from him? What had Flash done to piss this guy off, and why was he so strong?

These thoughts were continuous until he felt something prod against his temple. He froze, his muscles beginning to quiver as his brain realised what was touching him. It had to be the gun. He was at gunpoint. Someone was fucking holding a gun to his head! It was cold against his skin, sending chills through his body as he ceased his fighting. There was no way this was happening right now.

Before he could struggle even harder, something thumped onto the concrete in front of them. Flash's eyes instantly snapped to the sound, his chest clenching in some sort of relief when he saw that red and blue suit. Spider-Man.

Wow. Spider-Man had come to save him, of all people? Yeah, right. He blinked repeatedly, as if Spider-Man would disappear and it would be determined that he was just imagining things. But he never did, and Flash soon realised that the man was actually there, clad in red and blue, staring right at them with his creepy, moving white eyes.

He let his eyes focus on those eyes on the mask, which were twitching slightly as if they were confused, presumably switching between Flash and the attacker. Spider-Man's arms were raised, reading to attack, both Flash and the attacker frozen in place as the superhero began to speak.

"Hey, man, don't you think it's rude to put a gun to someone's head?"

He knew that voice. Where did he know that voice from?

He had no time to think about it when the attacker's hold on him tightened, the gun pressing harder into Flash's temple. Oh, god, he was going to die. He squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, waiting for his brain to go blank and for there to be a hole in his head. When it didn't happen, he opened his eyes, refusing to let the pesky tears in his eyes fall down his cheeks.

"You shoot, he gets a bullet in his head." The attacker spat, and Flash felt all the blood drain from his face. Spider-Man seemed to pause, before raising his arms in surrender. Flash could feel the terrified tears beginning to well up in his eyes even more as he looked over at Spider-Man, whose suited eyes were still twitching as if he were hesitating, and Flash immediately knew that maybe Spider-Man didn't want to save his life. "You do so much as flinch, and I will shoot him."

"Alright, we don't need any of that." Flash snapped back into reality upon the strangely familiar voice, his fear intensifying the more time that passed by. Where the hell did he know that voice from? "Just let the kid go and we will have no further trouble."


Spider-Man sounded like a kid.

Why did he sound so familiar?

He vaguely heard the Spider-Man whisper, his arms still raised. Flash came to notice that the person's hands were shaking, as if he didn't know what to do. Couldn't Spider-Man, like, use his webs to get the gun out of the attacker's hand? He'd seen it on YouTube compilations before. Why was Spider-Man hesitating?

What the man, or boy, behind the mask said next left Flash shocked.

"Don't shoot him, shoot me." Spider-Man almost snapped, a sudden confidence seeming to seep into the superhero's voice. "Shoot me."

There was a few moments of silence, Flash keeping his eyes locked on Spider-Man as his attacker tensed. Then before Flash could process it, the gun was being yanked from the side of his head and pointed in the Spider-Man's direction. At the same time, Spider-Man raised his hands, webs immediately shooting in their direction. Flash had almost jumped out of his skin when the gunshot rang out around him, and he took that as his chance to launch himself away from the attacker.

He had looked away for just a few seconds as the sound's of Spider-Man's webs erupted around him, and when he had looked back, the man was wrapped up in countless webs on the ground, writhing desperately to break out of them.

When he looked to Spider-Man, ready to thank him for saving his life, all he saw was the gunshot wound in his stomach.

Spider-Man had gotten shot, for him. No one would do that for Flash.

Spider-Man stood there for a few seconds before beginning to wobble, his legs seemingly buckling beneath him as he fell onto his hands and knees. Flash stood there in shock, unsure what to do as the person underneath the suit seemed to be talking to somebody. Their voice still sounded so familiar, but Flash couldn't remember a face or name to match that voice.

"Yes, K-Karen, I know!" Spider-Man snapped, voice shaking as he began to cough. "C-Call him!"

Call who? Who was he even talking to?

He had no more time to think about it before Spider-Man was slumping on his side, Flash immediately launching himself over to his saviour. He knelt by the Spider-Man's side, hesitating for only a few seconds before slowly rolling him onto his side. "Oh my god."

What the hell was he supposed to do?

He could hear another voice, but it sounded distant. Like a phone call. "Kid? Karen said you've been shot, I swear, if you've been fucking sh-"

"T-Tony." The Spider-Man whined, and Flash immediately felt himself pale even more. Tony? Like, Tony Stark? "Help."

"Oh my god, you've actually been shot, haven't you?" The voice snapped through the suit, and now Flash was vaguely able to recognise that voice as Tony Stark's. How could he figure out Tony Stark's voice and not Spider-Man's? He knew that voice. He knew it. Why couldn't he pinpoint who it was? "I'm coming, don't worry. Where have you been shot, Peter?"

Flash paused, mouth falling open. No way.

"S-stomach. I s-should have been a-able to dodge it.. but.. but I g-got distracted. My s-senses warned me but I d-didn't m-move-"

"I'm coming, kid." The voice cut off, and all that could be heard was Spider-Man's heavy and rushed breathing.

"Peter." Flash whispered, staring down at Spider-Man with wide eyes. "Parker? Is that you?"

Spider-Man began to cough even harder than before, Flash unsure what was happening. This couldn't be Peter Parker. Peter Parker would never save his life, let alone get shot for him. Flash treated him like shit and he knew it, so why in any right mind would Peter Parker save Flash Thompson's life? "Peter, I recommend that you take off your mask. If you don't, you are at very high risk of suffocating. The suit has been damaged."

This was another voice. A woman's voice.

"You're choking." Flash almost snapped without thinking, beside himself that there was the possibility that Peter Parker was underneath that mask. That Peter Parker was Spider-Man, and he was apparently suffocating. "You're fucking choking- we need to get this off!"

Flash had immediately felt bad for all his years of torment. Peter had saved his life. Well, if it was Peter underneath that mask.

Spider-Man didn't move when Flash reached up to where his mask met the rest of his suit, his fingers curling under the material before pulling it over his head. Flash felt his breath hitch as he lifted the mask from Spider-Man's chin to his forehead, gawking at the fact that Peter Parker's pale, sweaty and tear stained face was now on show. He couldn't believe it.

Flash watched in slight horror as Peter heaved large gulps of air. "Holy shit." Flash didn't remove his hand from where he had braced it on Peter's shoulder, eyes wide. "It really is you- oh my god, you got shot for me!"

Peter didn't answer, his bleary eyes looking up at Flash with nothing more than pain.

"C'mon, Parker, talk to me." Flash muttered, becoming frantic. "Tell me what to do!"

He had no idea what to do.

Flash just continued to watch Peter's face contort with pain, his face grimy and sweaty as the tears streaked down his cheeks. Flash had no idea how to react or how to help Parker, and he was still trying to comprehend the fact that Peter Parker had taken a bullet for him, when he could have easily let Flash die. Peter must hate him for everything he did, and was still doing. Flash would have thought the boy would have jumped at the chance to get rid of him.

He had no more time to think about all the possibilities before something thumped down to the right of them, Flash flinching from the sound. He heard Peter whimper, his eyes squeezing shut as he gripped onto Flash's sleeve. Flash looked in the direction of the sound, his jaw slacking when he saw it. The Iron Man suit, and non-other than Tony Stark himself getting out of it.

Peter hadn't been lying.

Flash watched with his mouth hanging open, Tony hurrying over to Peter's side. He glanced at Flash momentarily, his eyes hardening for a few seconds before turning back to Peter. Flash noticed his eyes soften and fill with concern, moving from the wound and Peter's pale face.

"Kid, why do you do this to yourself?" Tony had snapped, but Flash found no malice there.

Peter hadn't answered, and instead with the hand that wasn't gripping Flash's sleeve, he reached out for Tony Stark.

Flash didn't really know what he was expecting next, but he wasn't expecting Tony to hold Peter's quivering hand like he had done so many times before. Flash could tell Peter was actually starting to panic now, and he still had no idea what to do.

He wasn't left in a state of confusion for much longer, because Tony Stark was staring at him. Flash had merely blinked before his hands were being yanked forwards, the warm sensation of blood seeping onto his skin as Tony Stark made him press his hands into Peter's abdomen. "Hold your hands there. He's loosing to much blood, I have my team on the way. The police will be here soon to pick up that bastard after we're long gone."

Flash had completely forgotten about the existence of his attacker.

Instead of looking back, he nodded, forcing the tears to disappear from his eyes.

He did as he was told, glancing at Peter's face. Flash forced his mouth to stay shut when he noticed that Tony Stark, of all people, was running a hand through Peter's hair, and Peter was leaning into it like he had done that exact action so many times before. Flash recalled the times his own father had done that to him as a kid when he had woken up from a bad dream, and he realised just then how fatherly the action was. Flash would never believe it if Tony turned out to be Peter's actual father. Flash had never seen Peter's father, and he had been so sure he didn't have one because he never seemed to turn up to any parent days when they were younger.

His thoughts were interrupted by a pained whine from Peter, who moved underneath his hands at the same time. Flash could feel the blood draining from his face at the warm, sticky feeling of Parker's blood moving through his fingers, his stomach turning sickeningly as Tony shushed Peter.

"Don't worry, Petey, they're almost here." He was whispering, though Flash could hear him clearly.

"Tired." Was Peter's reply, and Flash once again moved his eyes to watch his face.

"No, Underoos, you can't sleep just yet. You gotta stay awake."

"B-but my s-senses-"


Peter didn't reply after that, but he was awake, staring up at Tony Stark with terrified eyes. Flash could feel the nausea swirling around in his stomach, the tears pushing at his eyelids as he tried to keep his own composure. The blood on his hands was making matters even worse, and all he wanted was to turn back time so he could have gone a different root, so Spider-Man didn't have to swoop in and get shot for him.

He still couldn't believe that Peter was the Spider-Man.

He hadn't been lying about knowing Spider-Man, either, then.

God, Flash felt horrible. And it was pretty rare for him to feel anything other than anger towards Peter Parker. Now, all he felt was regret.

A few minutes later, the sounds of an ambulance finally filled his ears. He sagged in relief, though Peter's panicked crying snapped him out of that momentary relief. He had no idea what was happening, fearing he had been the one to set him off into panicking by releasing pressure or something. But he could see Tony's eyes widening, muttering something into his watch before covering Peter's ears with his hands, thumbs rubbing both sides of his classmate's head.

Flash had never seen Peter so distraught before. He hated it.

He was a terrible person.

Not even seconds later, the sirens cut off, and Peter was relaxing.

Now Flash was even more confused.

Not even a few seconds later, an ambulance was pulled up on the street and people were rushing out of it. He almost choked when he saw Bruce Banner, the Hulk, running in their direction with his medical kit. Did Peter know Bruce Banner, too? Did Peter know all of the Avengers?

Well, he couldn't possibly know them all when Captain America and the others had fled. The Avengers weren't together anymore.

Bruce hurried over, falling to his knees and beckoning for Flash to move out of the way. He did as he was told, shuffling up so his right knee was just by Peter's head. Tony was once again running his hand through the teen's hair, wiping away his tears with the other. Flash sat there, feeling useless, feeling like shit for thinking Peter was lying as the literal Iron Man consoled him.

But who would have thought that Tony Stark was his father?

Well, he didn't know that just yet, so he couldn't assume. Sure, now that he looked, they kind of did look alike. But Peter hadn't called Tony Dad...

Everything that happened after that was a blur. Before he knew it, Peter was being wheeled away, Tony running beside his bed as Flash was left alone in the alleyway. He looked behind him, to the attacker, who seemed to be watching the entire scene with suspicious-looking eyes. Flash felt even more uneasy from this, backing away from the webbed up attacker with tears threatening to spill, along with the blood on his hands as a constant reminder of what Peter had done for him. Where was he supposed to go now? He couldn't just walk around the street with blood on his hands and clothes.

"Kid, get in here!" Tony Stark's voice yelled from the ambulance, causing Flash to nearly jump out of his skin. He didn't need to be told twice, shuffling over to the ambulance and stepping inside far more timidly than he would have liked.

And to make matters worse, Tony Stark was looking at him again.

"What the hell happened?" He snapped as the doors closed and the vehicle took off, Flash jolting with the unexpected movement.

"I- I- u-um." Flash stammered, his mind running a million miles an hour. "I was just walking h-home from school and that guy- that guy jumped me!"

"And Spider-Man jumped in and saved the day by getting himself shot?" Tony finished, breaking eye contact with Flash to look down at Peter with concerned eyes. "God, of course he would do that..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark sir, I didn't know what to do." Flash continued, wringing his hands together as he glanced at Peter. The boy's eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed, his hand holding Tony's. "It all happened too fast-"

"Yeah, alright, kid, I understand." Tony waved him off, reaching forwards to run a thumb over Peter's cheek. "Not your fault."

Flash didn't answer, looking away from his victim and down at his hands. God, how would Tony Stark react when Peter told him that Flash had been bullying him for years? He was dead. He was so dead for getting Tony Stark's kid shot. Flash was dead meat.

There was a few minutes of silence before Tony was talking again. "What's your name, kid?"

"Flash." Flash whispered, his stomach churning when he saw the look on Tony's face. He was going to get thrown out of the ambulance, because it was clear that Peter had maybe already told Iron Man that Flash was bullying him. Oh, god, he was dead.

"Flash? As in the Flash he told me about?" Tony asked, gesturing to Peter's limp form. "The one whose been bullying him for years? The one he won't let me destroy-"

"Tony." Bruce Banner's voice. "Calm."

"How can I be fucking- okay. When this is all over, then we'll talk. Yes?" Tony snapped, eyes widening when Peter groaned. "Peter?"


Flash's still-teary eyes widened slightly as he looked down at the hardly conscious Peter Parker, who was blearily blinking up at Tony Stark. Flash looked at the billionaire, and by the horrified expression on his face, Peter might not have called him that before. What did that make them then? Uncle? Mentor? Acquaintances? No. You wouldn't call your acquaintance Dad.

"I'm right here." Tony replied after some time, his eyes still wide and horrified as he looked down at Peter, who seemed unbothered by the look on the man's face. Flash felt like he shouldn't be here, realising with shame that he had shrunk into the seat he had been sitting in, feeling wrong for being there. "We're almost there."

Where they were going, Flash had no idea. He had heard that the Avengers Tower had been sold, so where else could they be going?

That thought stayed with him throughout the entire ride in the ambulance, which was a long time. Too long, it seemed. He wasn't sure how long he had been in the ambulance with the barely conscious Peter Parker and billionaire and Iron Man, Tony Stark, but when the ambulance finally pulled to a stop and the back door opened, his jaw fell to the middle of the Earth.

The Avengers Compound. Upstate.

Flash was ushered out of the ambulance as soon as the doors were opened, merely watching as Peter was wheeled past, Tony right by his side. He was at loss of what to do as paramedics followed them into the building, and soon, he was alone. Inside of the Avengers Compound garage.

Though, he wasn't alone for long when none other than Pepper Potts stepped out of one of the lifts, her eyes searching the garage until they stopped on him. She walked straight over to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes were hard, as if she were calculating him, but there was definitely an undertone of worry there. Was Pepper Peter's mother? No. It couldn't be, because Peter's parents were dead. As he had assumed, and he only had his Aunt now. Maybe Peter had lied to them all, and he was the son of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. No, but that didn't make sense either, because Potts and Stark hadn't been together fifteen years ago. That the world knew of.

He was fucking confused.

"Are you Flash?" She asked, squeezing his shoulder when he nodded. There were tears still prodding at his eyes, threatening to fall as he became rather overwhelmed. Nothing was processing in his head, and he wished he had just taken his usual route. If he had, Peter wouldn't have gotten shot. Jesus, he was a horrible kid. "Come with me. We'll call your parents and explain to them what's going on. Do you think they would be able to pick you up?"

Flash shook his head. His parents weren't even home at the moment, they were on a business trip together. He was staying with his grandmother. "My parents aren't home."

"Who are you staying with?" She asked as she let him through the garage and to the lift she had come from, not letting her hand leave his shoulder. "Do you have their number?"

"Yes." Flash mumbled, keeping his head down and fists clenched. He hadn't cried for years, why was he about to now? "My grandmother."

"I'll have someone drive you home." Pepper replied as the doors closed.

"Will he be okay?" Flash asked, still not looking up.

"I don't know." Pepper replied, her voice sounding sad. "I don't know his condition just yet. All I know is that he was shot."

"Can I see him?"

"Not yet." Pepper denied. "Tony wants me to get you home. You are the Flash that teases Peter, yes?"

Flash frowned, shame making itself known. He nodded, chewing on his lip. "I'm sorry."

He heard Pepper sigh. She didn't say anything else.

Finally, they reached what seemed to be the common floor, which was filled with workers bustling around, talking on phones, filling in papers and such. He was still in shock from getting jumped, having Spider-Man be Peter Parker and get shot for him to be able to process that he was inside the actual Avengers Compound.

When he was faced with a phone, he didn't pick it up. He merely stared at the object, finally letting the tears that had been burning in his eyes for too long fall. It felt weird to cry, but once he started he couldn't stop. He was embarrassed, his cheeks flushing red as he aggressively wiped away the tears. Pepper's hand returned to his shoulder, gently turning him around and lifting his chin up with her other. Flash avoided her eyes.

"Are you injured?" She asked, her voice suddenly sounding soft. Flash shook his head. He was only aching a little. But even as he shook his head, his face crumbled as the emotions overtook him. What the fuck was wrong with him? "Oh, Jesus. Come here."

Flash let himself be hugged. He hadn't been hugged for a long time. "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

"Let's get you to medical." She whispered, rubbing his back. "Just for a check up. You can call your grandmother there."

Flash let himself be led back into the lift, furiously wiping at the tears that would not stop falling. It was a few minutes before the doors were opening and the smell of a hospital filled his nose, causing the tears to return at full force. He fucking hated hospitals and it's smells.

"Pep?" Flash jumped when he heard none-other than Tony Stark's voice, immediately curling into himself. "I thought he was going home?"

"He needs to be checked out." Pepper replied, her tone now rather worried. "How is Peter?"

"He's in surgery." Tony muttered, causing Flash to look up at him for a split second. His face was red, as if he had been crying himself. That was something he had never expected from the great Tony Stark. "I've called his Aunt. She's on her way."

"Come on." Pepper nudged him, and so he moved. He walked past Tony, not looking at the man, who was even more intimidating in person than he had thought. He was led into a hospital room, where a doctor was waiting, as if he already knew prior to their arrival.

He let himself get prodded and checked over for a solid hour as Pepper called his grandmother and explained what had happened, and before he knew it, he was back in her house in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He never got to see Peter, and he never got an update. He had no idea if the other boy was dead or not. Peter had risked his life for Flash, someone who had been bullying him for as long as he could remember.

Flash didn't feel so much like a piece of shit ever in his life until that very moment.

He returned to school that Monday, and as predicted, Peter wasn't there. Ned was hovering around his locker, as if he were waiting for his friend, a frown on his face. He caught the other boys eye, and quickly, Flash looked away, his guilt ready to overtake any other emotion in that very moment. He continued to walk down the hallway, a death grip on his backpack straps as he completely ignored his friend's existences. All that was on his mind, was if Peter was dead or not.

This continued for three weeks. Peter wasn't at school for three weeks, and no one other than himself and Ned seemed to know why. After the first few days, Ned had looked at him with a troubled and almost angry expression, and it was then that he knew Ned knew everything that had happened. Flash never approached his bullying victim.

It was on the Thursday of the third week when Peter returned to school. Flash first saw him at his locker, Ned right next to him, the two of them engaged in a conversation. Flash pretty much stopped in the hall, staring over at Peter, who had taken a few moments to notice him. Peter stared at him, his expression blank for a few seconds. Then, despite all their history, he sent a small smile before turning around, Ned following.

Flash didn't approach him for the next two weeks after that.

It was at the end of decathlon practice when Flash decided to approach Peter. He hardly thought about what he would say when he grabbed onto Peter's wrist, the boy looking at him with a straight face. Everyone streamed out around them, even Ned and MJ, and soon, it was just them and Mr. Harrington.

"Is there an issue, boys?" Mr. Harrington cut in before Flash could say anything, and immediately, he shook his head.

"Can we talk outside?" Flash asked, feeling relief when Peter nodded. Together, they walked out of the room, an awkward silence hanging in the air. "I'm sorry."

Peter paused, and Flash could see the boy look at him in the corner of his eye. "Why?"

"I got you shot." Flash muttered, holding onto his backpack straps. "You should've just left me there. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault." Peter replied, his voice sounding shaky. "I was just doing my job. I could have moved."

"Thanks for saving me, though." Flash murmured, almost certain Peter wouldn't have picked it up. But he did.

"It's okay." Peter replied, looking at him again. "But it's not your fault. And I wasn't going to leave you there. Besides, you got to meet Tony Stark and go to the Avengers Compound. Isn't that a bonus?"

"I didn't really pay attention." Flash sighed, staring at his shoes. "I'm pretty sure your Dad doesn't like me."

"He's not my Dad." Peter's voice wavered. "Anyways. I thought you would have told the whole school that Penis Parker is the great Spider-Man?"

Flash cringed, closing his eyes for a few seconds. "You got shot for me."

"I did." Peter replied, his voice no longer wavering. "But I'm fine. I've completely healed."

"I'm sorry for... you know, everything?" Flash winced when it sounded like a question. "I won't tell anyone that you're Spider-Man."

He felt Peter eyes on him for a few seconds before the boy replied. "Thanks."

It fell silent once again, and stayed like that until they reached the front of the school. Flash spotted his grandmother's car down the street, which had been happening ever since she learnt he had almost been killed from walking home. He wasn't going to lie that he was kind of scared to walk home by himself, now, after everything that had happened. He hadn't walked home since the whole incident occurred.

"Well, I have to go." Peter spoke up, and finally, Flash looked at him. He expected anger, or disappointment, but Peter was smiling. "Happy's taking me to the Compound today."

Flash couldn't find it in him to smile back. "Have fun."

"Thanks." Silence. "I don't blame you, if that's what you're thinking."

"You should." Flash sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I've tormented you for years."

"I know." A flicker of sadness passed through Peter's eyes. "But we can get over that now, can't we? I think we've been through enough shared trauma..."

"Yeah." Flash sighed again, ignoring the guilt eating away at his heart. "Well, see you later, Peter."

Flash didn't miss the look of shock that passed through Peter's expression. He suspected it may have been from the fact that Flash didn't call him Penis, or Parker. Flash didn't smile, and instead nodded once, before turning away. "Bye Flash."

When Flash reached his car, he turned back to see Peter hopping into a black Audi that looked suspiciously like one that Tony Stark owned.

Over the next few days, he and Peter didn't talk, though there was the occasional nod or smile in the hallway. His friends asked him why, and he said nothing. It wasn't long after that that his friends left him, and soon, he found himself sitting next to Ned Leeds in the cafeteria.

"Hey Flash." Peter said when he sat down. Flash nodded, aware of the fact that MJ was staring him down.

That continued for a few weeks, and soon, they became somewhat friends with each other. Flash felt civil around the three of them, and he was hoping they were beginning to feel the same. He wasn't sure if MJ and Ned did, but Peter seemed to, and it was obvious that the shared trauma had set something in stone for them.

So, maybe, Peter getting shot for him in a way was a good thing.

Hm, maybe not.

But it sure opened his eyes.