The Revealing of a Stark

Peter Actually Tells the Truth. Sorta.

Peter stomped down the busy streets of New York, Ned and MJ silently following in his wake. His expression must have been pretty fierce because people walking toward him would get one look at his face and immediately jump out of the way.

The rumbling of engines and honking cars filled the air. Vehicles swerved dangerously close to the sidewalks. FRIDAY's voice flowed through Peter's head, blocking the outside noise of the city. "Incoming call from Happy Hogan."

Peter glanced down at the clenched hand holding his phone. Happy's face filled the screen. "Accept," he mumbled.

Peter heard a small beep and Happy's voice replaced FRIDAY's. "Where am I picking you up, kid?" he questioned. "The school?"

Peter's eyes widened, and he nearly dropped his phone. "No!" he shrieked. "Pick me up, where you normally do."

"Aren't you—" Happy paused. "Nevermind. I'll be there in five minutes." The call ended with a small click, and the noises of the city filled Peter's head once more. He glanced back to check on his friends. Ned slowly followed, a dazed look in his eyes, and MJ had her nose deep in a book. Peter shook his head and stifled a laugh. I will never understand how she does that, he thought.

Peter turned into a narrow alley; Ned and MJ followed without protest. He stationed himself against one of the brick walls and awkwardly leaned back. His two friends stood a few feet in front of him. Peter felt Ned's questioning gaze on him and quickly look at the ground.

The concrete had small cracks zigzagging across it; piles of trash lined the walls on both sides—some of it even sat in the middle of the alley. There were also a few oils stains here and there and a faded, brown spot that looks suspiciously like dried blood.

Ned's eyes didn't waver. Peter began fiddling with his watch. Twisting it right, then back to the left. Moving it up, his arm, and then back down. Sometimes, even tapping his fingers on the electronic screen.

Ned's heart rate spiked, and Peter peeked out of the curly brown hair covering the top of his face. Ned's eyes were focused on the cracked concrete, his mouth slightly ajar. Almost like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Peter looked to the right. MJ's book stuck out of her back pocket. Her hazel eyes were now focused on him.

Peter nervously shifted his feet. "You guy's obviously want to ask questions, so ask them," He blurted out.

MJ raised an eyebrow. She obviously was not expecting his small outburst, but Peter couldn't help it. He couldn't handle the tense air that swirled around them. It sucked the breath right out of his lungs.

Ned spoke first. "How?"

A simple question, a question that could be interpreted in many ways. But Peter knew exactly what he was asking. He began his story. "A few years ago, a story blew up on the news. A car crash involving Tony Stark—"

"And his wife," Ned gasped out.

Peter nodded and fiddled with his silver watch. "My mom."

Peter's eyes moved up to the sky. The white clouds and blue sky weaved themselves together, creating intricate patterns. Some of the shapes looked almost like animals. A pig, an owl, a crow. Peter's mouth twisted up into a sad smile.

"My parents were best friends," Peter started, "ever since they were kids. They did everything together. You never saw one without the other.

"My dad found out he needed a date to a charity event. He didn't want to go and find some random girl on the streets, so he asked my mom. It wasn't a real date, only two friends going to a party, but it continued. Whenever either one of them needed a date for some event, they would ask each other. Just two friends hanging out. After a few years of this, they both realized that at some point these fake dates had turned into real ones. They fell in love."