ALIAS ? Peter Parker?

2.05 Ruling with an Iron Fist

***

A churro stand wasn't hard to find if you knew where to look, they're a favorite for Alex. We pulled back on our damp costumes begrudgingly, Peter had left his clothes on Liz's roof, and I didn't want to be see prowling with Spider-Man.

Kindly, I handed the man the few bucks I had tucked away in my bra. With mild disgust, he took them and handed me the churro, which I quickly passed on to Peter. I let him keep the change since scouring my chest for pennies was something I'll leave to my twenties.

Peter had his mask lifted slightly up to expose his thin lips as walked beside me silently eating the churro.

After a moment, tilted the sugary treat towards me in offering.

"Already had toast." I shrugged, the emptiness in my stomach having its own weight. A second later, I noticed he's a few paces behind and staring at me. "Checking me out, Parker?"

His cheeks turned light pink, and he almost choked on the churro. "No, you just— nothing never-mind."

I could tell that he was noticing what had made me the receiver of a few compliments from few older ladies. The "oh, you're really slimming up," and the "that shirt looks so nice on you, are you working out?" were common responses that always made me fight the urge to say, "thanks, I basically staving, thanks for noticing."

It's not like I planned or wanted to, it's just I didn't feel like it.

Emotions are weird. They'd slip in and out at the oddest of moments, randomly you'd be walking in a store, and the wrong perfume entered your air space, then bam. Everything hits you like a baseball bat, and you nearly cause a blackout.

Peter caught up with me again easily. "I can't believe he wants me not to stop the bad guys. Is it so bad that I want to stop the weapons from making it to the streets?"

"No."

"Then why won't he let me?"

"I don't know."

"Are you okay?" He paused, hand-placed in mine, but I shrugged it off.

The hurt struck across his face, and he retreated his hand to his pocket. "Look, I'm just not the best person to talk about this with, considering the Avengers that recruited me got my shot out by dated Nazis and abandoned me to be war criminals within a month."

It's a burst of information that comes off more annoyed than I intended, but the white eyes of his suit shifted with an unwarranted sympathy. "Do you keep in contact—"

"No."

"Do you miss them?"

Everyday.

But that's none of his business. I didn't even want it to be mine.

What was the conversation he wanted to have? To break down into a monologue about how crushed my soul to lose everyone near, then he'd be a lovely shoulder to cry, and everything becomes all healed up Hallmark-style?

What do you want from me? I bit my tongue to hold back the cruel tone, a defensive and humorous one slipped in. "Can we have this heart to heart when neither of us is risking hypothermia?"

Peter got quiet, his head swiveled to the floor as we stood at the alley in front of our windows. "Did things change? You know, when you found out I was Spider-Man."

It didn't, not then. Things were fine when I found out. Closest to perfect I've ever been. But the moment he found out the truth about me, it went sour. Reality curdled and rotted, piece by piece.

"What do you mean?" For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to lie as I hooked around his torso. He didn't reply, instead, he carried us up and up until we were at my fire escape. Business as usual, I let go of him. Rather than leave, he played with his thumbs.

"You used to answer my questions."

"Sorry to disappoint."

Peter sighed. "That's not what I meant."

"My mistake." The plastic smile on my face was practiced. I gave him a goodbye nod and went to my room.

***

The shower was pleasant, got all the sea grime off, and managed to keep the thoughts of tonight off my mind. I kicked the bathroom door close and stretched out my arms to get the shirt's sleeves off my fingers. Everything fit just a little too weirdly.

Zoey's back is facing me, her beige cardigan draped over their shoulders as she stood near the sink. It threw me off for a moment, sometimes I forgot she lived here. I don't bother nodding her direction since it wouldn't be reciprocated.

"Dr. Clair called," Zoey said, finishing rinsing out a cup of coffee, she shifted her shoulders towards my direction. Her pitch-black eyes slid over to me. "She says you've been ditching appointments."

"Just a couple."

"Just a couple? Wow, lazy and ungrateful." Her mouth thinned, and I continued on the way to my room. "We're not done talking."

Bitterness consumed me as I turned around. It's seemed as though every distant adult was just giving out lectures. "That'd be a first."

Eyes narrowed, she set down the coffee cup. "What's that supposed to mean- never mind, I didn't sign up for this teenage angst."

"And what did you sign up for then? Other than a cigarette runner. " It comes out before I could stop it, the frustration was too much. She wasn't my mother, nor was she even fit for the title of guardian at this point.

"This is because of that friend, isn't it?" A satisfied smile fit on her face. "It is."

Marbles were caught in my throat. "That friend?"

"The sparkly one."

I couldn't breathe. Her apathy beat across my chest. There's nothing I could say. With the droop of my shoulders, I let out a shaky laugh. "My best friend is dead, and you couldn't give two shits could you?"

"People die. We get over it." The simple truth hung in the air as she grabbed a cigarette from her cardigan. "If you wanted pity, you should have gone next door."

And where would I go if I wanted a mother? Blood roared in my ears, and I walked straight out the door without looking back to see the lights glitch to their deaths. Everything must die, after all.