~Love, Voices & Chocolate~

Y-You-Y-You're Amazing!

MJ walked back to find the others after her wild run, clutching her wounded arm as she struggled to remember how things had gone from calm to crazy since they got to Washington the day before. She remembered Ned coming to ask her to come to the pool the day before, then Gwen, then Flash, but her door remained locked as she waited for the pain to pass. They could hear her grunting through the thin walls, rolling about as her entire body shut down. Then a new voice drew her attention.

"MJ? Come out, please?" She kept silent, wondering why Peter would even bother asking her to come. She wished Will was there, getting lost in her rants about Harry Potter and making her feel less alone. But now, as she lay writhing in her room, she had never felt so lonely. "You need to talk to us and tell us what's wrong. We're your friends-"

"My friend? Oh please, Shitter Parker-" she winced at her own words and sighed softly, crawling over to the door. She rose a hand to open it but yanked her hand away, crumpling into a sobbing mess on the floor when a loud voice in her head told her she didn't deserve to be so close to a boy like Peter Parker. What was worse than the pain was the voice filling her head, voices that seemed to get worse with each passing month. She didn't understand why anyone even noticed. For all the years she had been in MidTech, no one had ever noticed it happening to her. What changed?

"Uh... Hey, MJ." Everyone surrounded Harry as he sat opposite the door. He tapped the wooden door lightly and cursed for a moment before whispering, "I know what it's like, you know? Can you hear them? Screaming in your mind, driving you insane..."

"The voices. You hear them, too? I-is anyone else out there?"

"No. I sent them away," he lied smoothly. Gwen gasped, getting out of the pool when she saw what Harry was doing. He hated talking to people with a passion, usually only talking to himself so it was new. She glanced at him with a small smile which he didn't see and pressed her ear against the door to hear, shamelessly eavesdropping on what was supposed to be a private conversation. His hawk-like eyes raked Gwen's body which was covered by a yellow bikini with white polka dots, seeming to turn yellow for a moment without anyone's notice before he turned back to the closed door. "You don't need to come out. Just know that we're here for you, all of us. Even me, the school basketcase."

"No one calls you that," she said, hoping he would fall for it but knowing he wouldn't. People usually called him worse in her presence, ignoring her because of her quiet nature. Ever since his father died, he was a changed soul and it was hard to see someone who used to be so happy and cheerful go dark.

"True. Crazy, weirdo, retarded, I've heard more but never quite basketcase. I guess the term died with The Breakfast Club. But you are right to some extent, some people don't call me that. And those are you guys, my friends... excluding Flash and Ned because I don't really know them yet. You classify as one, too. I still have the drawing you sent me while I was in the hospital. It was lovely and I'm very grateful." Ned shrugged and silently did a peace sign, showing that he felt the same way and it was all good. Flash wasn't listening to a word they were saying, staring at the water in the pool like he wanted it to swallow him up. "Try getting some sleep, alright? I know I won't."

"Harry?" He stopped in his tracks and turned to the door, waiting patiently. She had so many questions to ask him; how bad was it, when did it happen, for how long, to what degree? Instead, she shut her eyes as another sharp pang hit her, rocking her so hard she had to grip her mattress from her position on the floor for support. "G-good night, Harry."

"Night, captain." She didn't know what was going on in his head as he walked away. She didn't know about his plans for the day after as he lay down to sleep with a grin on his face. The next day, they all entered into the competition centre. No one noticed Harry slip away amidst all the nervousness mingled with excitement as teams sent looks that were anything but friendly towards other teams. Peter was nervous but it wasn't because of the competition; his spider senses had been tingling for an alarmingly long amount of time and he was worried. How was he supposed to focus on the competition with danger brewing, whatever the trouble was?