Mars, Venus, Jupiter...
The intricate knowledge that was pedantic to children was rippling in the tranquil cosmos.
Before losing consciousness, the last image in Peter's mind was when Stark handed him the first generation Spider-Man Suit. Mr. Stark's face guard was raised - those hazel eyes that were radiant in the glistening sunlight, brimful as honey ready to melt.
Peter was certain, he had seen two stark emotions contrasting in those eyes – the weariness that belonged to a father, and the innocence that belonged to a child.
The numbness of the night was intensifying, with Stark lying in the hospital bed. Stark was indeed exhausted, but he was accustomed to staying awake all night, making it impossible for him to fall asleep.
As he felt a bit uneasy and wanted to roll over, he heard a soft noise from the door handle. He turned his head with the utmost effort and saw the door slightly opening. A beam of light from outside infiltrated the room. Peter squeezed in through the small opening, then gently closed the door.
As Peter turned around, he noticed Stark's faintly glowing eyes gazing at him. He seemed to be startled and then awkwardly said, "Uhm... Mr. Stark, are you still awake? I thought..."
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you sleeping?"
"I...I have insomnia. I mean... I can't sleep. Actually, I did sleep, but then I suddenly woke up..."
"Has anyone ever told you that when you lie, you tend to speak incoherently?"
Peter, looking despondent, said, "I knew it, I've been awful at lying since I was little."
"So what are you here for? If it's about an experiment, we can talk about it in the morning."
"I was almost asleep." Stark rolled over, turning his back on Peter, indicating he wanted to sleep now.
Peter, with his head down, went and sat on the chair next to the bed without turning on the lights. He remained silent for a while, long enough for Stark to think he had actually fallen asleep.
Then, as if possessed, he broke the silence and asked, "Mr. Stark, can you tell me about your father?"
Stark said nothing in response. Peter felt he was being intrusive, but he continued, "I mean nothing by it, it's just... you know, I never met my father. When people know about my background, they stopped talking about their parents, even Gwen does..."
Stark, curled up on the hospital bed, shifted slightly. He heard Peter say, "Actually, I just had a dream which is why I can't sleep now. I dreamt of my father, but he might not have been my real father, since I've never seen him, right?"
In the end, amidst the extended silence, Stark gave a sigh. He turned again, his eyes set firmly on the ceiling, and said, "Howard was a drunkard, always getting terribly drunk."
"When he was drunk, he would curse everything. He was a crude jerk. The most common thing he would say to me when he was sober was that I didn't understand anything."
"Of course, I didn't understand anything, I was only a few years old then."
"I had a natural attraction to cars and liked to put metal pieces together, but whenever I did something, he never applauded me. Instead, he would call it all junk."
"Alcohol had burned his proud mind." Stark sneered and said, "That's why he didn't come up with any decent inventions at the end of his life."
"Look at me now! The Stark Group is better than ever, and I've invented so many things that can change the world!"
"He was wrong, completely wrong. Little Stark wasn't ignorant of everything, in reality, the one who was ignorant was him, Howard Stark...."
Looking at the silent Peter, Stark turned his face and said, "You didn't hear the story you wanted, did you? What did you expect to hear? That we had a close father-son relationship, or that he taught me knowledge, guiding me from childhood on how to invent and create?"
Stark lowered his eyelids, and when he slightly squinted, his long lashes would cast dense shadows in those hazel eyes.
Peter lowered his head; he clasped his hands together, covering his chin, then said, "Previously, I'd never dreamt of my father, nor did I remember him, because I had never seen him. There isn't anything about him in my memory, it was even almost impossible to dream."
Stark glanced at him and said, "Well, maybe there were some good times, perhaps... back in the day, so long ago that I hardly remember. I remember we worked together in the lab... I don't remember what we were doing, but there were such times... "
Stark turned his head to look at Peter, but he didn't see sadness on Peter's face. In Peter's young eyes, there wasn't the solitude and sadness he had imagined.
Stark thought that perhaps this was normal. Peter had lived this way for more than a decade. In his life, his Uncle filled the role as his father, perhaps in part.
Ben Parker was an ordinary man who had given Peter all the best attributes he possessed: strength and goodness.
But Peter is a genius, Stark understood this more than anyone. A genius needs resonance, needs formidable rivals for communication, for a collision of thoughts.
When Peter and Stark looked at each other, they both thought of the saying, geniuses are always lonely.