5 times Tony was at Peter's Sickbed, and the 1 time Peter was at his.

2. School Bus Spills

"So not funny." Ned stressed, pointing a rigid finger at him. "I am so wildly traumatised. Honestly." He heaved. "And now you are abandoning your so wildly traumatised friend to sit next to a girl. Rude. Just rude."

Peter felt his shoulders drop. Heart sinking. "It's not just a girl." He tried to reason, his voice fading as he fought for the right words. "It's-" and failed to find the right words. "It's MJ."

Ned sighed and flopped back onto the mattress. "Jeans," he said into Peter's blankets. "Chinos are too Flash."

Peter tossed the chinos back into the closest. "Thank-you!" he sang, lunging onto the bed, feet landing just next to Ned's head, earning him a squeak. "Thank-you, thank-you!"

Ned shoved him off of the bed. "You owe me."

Peter landed on his feet effortlessly - much to Ned's clear annoyance - and moved back into his wardrobe to find a shirt to go with his jeans. "I so do," he said. "Whatever you want, seriously."

"Yeah, yeah." Ned huffed, he pulled himself back up so he was sitting up, facing Peter who was half buried in the wardrobe again. "So what are you going to talk to her about?"

"What?"

Ned shot him an exasperated look. "Well, you're going to be sitting next to her for seven hours. You might want to think of some conversation starters."

The shirt in Peter's hand slid to the floor. "Oh, god." Horror washed over him. "I don't know what to talk about with her." He rounded on Ned. "I can barely talk to her for, like, two minutes-" Oh god. He was dying again. His chest was imploding. Tony was going to kill him. "Maybe this is a bad idea, maybe-"

Ned rolled his eyes and pushed off of the bed. "Stop," he said. "It's fine." He rolled his shoulders and then perched his hands on his hips. "We'll think of something. We've got, what," he spun to glance at the Thor clock leaning up against Peter's bedside. "Ten hours to think of something."

Peter's chest was loosening. "Right. Yeah. It'll be fine." He was twisting the shirt in his hands so tightly that he would probably need to iron it now. "We'll think of something."

Nine hours and fifty-eight minutes later

Peter felt like a dead man walking towards his noose. "We have nothing," he said, the words catching in his throat. "We have nothing."

It was the crack of dawn - the unholy hour as May had called it when they clambered onto the Subway at quarter to five - and despite the hours of brainstorming Peter had absolutely nothing to say to MJ. Nothing.

"Not nothing-" Ned started.

Peter cut him off with a sharp finger. "I am not talking to her about how ridiculous it is that popcorn at the movies is now more expensive than the movie!"

Ned stared at him with tight lips for several long seconds. "Okay. Then we have nothing," he relented.

They had left the subway and were already walking through the school gates. Peter could see the bus waiting for them by the science building. He could see the gaggle of other students milling around it. He could see MJ-

"Oh, god," he choked. He was sweaty. He hadn't sweat since the bite - not for anything - but now of all times he was sweaty. It was trickling down his forehead. Soaking the front of his shirt. "I can't sit with her. I can't. I'm going to say something stupid, and then-"

A figure stepped out from behind the bus to meet them at the edge of the science building. Peter stumbled to a halt. MJ stared. She had her backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, and a binder of note for the meet in her other hand.