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Peter stood outside his quarters, watching as Mikaela and Natasha confronted him. Both of them looked equally determined, their eyes fixed on him with a mixture of surprise and frustration.
"You're leaving?!" they had said in unison, their voices carrying the weight of their emotions.
Peter blinked, trying to hide his amusement at the rare moment of unity between the two women. They had been rivals, constantly competing for his attention and affection, yet here they were, united by the same concern.
Mikaela was the first to step forward, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked, her voice tense. "You were just going to leave without saying anything?"
Natasha's eyes narrowed as she added, "We deserve to know, Peter. Why now? What could be so important that you're ready to leave Earth behind?"
Peter sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked between the two of them. He hadn't expected this to be easy, but he also hadn't anticipated this much resistance. "I'm not leaving without saying anything," he replied. "I just… haven't told everyone yet. There are things I need to do. I can't stay here forever."
Mikaela frowned, her frustration still simmering. "But you could stay. Why leave now?"
Peter met her gaze, then glanced at Natasha, seeing the same question reflected in her eyes. "I have places to go, people to meet. It's not just about what's here on Earth. There's more out there—things I need to take care of."
Natasha crossed her arms, her eyes filled with skepticism. "You're telling us you have 'things to do,' but that doesn't explain why you can't stay. We're here, Peter. We… care about you."
Peter could feel the weight of their words, their emotions simmering just beneath the surface. They both cared deeply about him, and despite their usual rivalry, they were working together to make him stay.
He sighed, his voice softening. "I know you both care about me. I care about you too, but this is something I have to do." He paused for a moment, then smiled a bit, though there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. "But… you could come with me, if you want."
That caught them both off guard. Mikaela and Natasha exchanged a brief, surprised glance before looking back at Peter.
"Come with you?" Natasha asked, her voice quieter now.
"Yeah," Peter confirmed, his tone lighter. "I mean, there's a lot out there to see. I won't lie—it won't be easy. And I'll have some explaining to do when we arrive on Naboo…" He chuckled at the thought of dealing with that particular reunion, but it was a worry for another time.
Both women fell silent at his offer, tactfully choosing to ignore the suspicious addition of a reunion on Naboo, at least for now. "…"
Peter could see the uncertainty in their eyes. They wanted to say yes—he could tell by the way their expressions softened, the way their postures shifted—but neither of them could commit to the idea so easily.
For Natasha, the hesitation was clear. She had her family here—her mother and sister—and she still hadn't freed her father from the prison that Drakov had unjustly placed him in. Leaving now, without taking care of that, would feel wrong. It weighed heavily on her mind.
Mikaela's situation was different, but no less complicated. She didn't have many friends or close family, but she still had her father. Despite everything, even with him in jail, she wasn't sure if she could just leave him behind. The thought of it gnawed at her, leaving her feeling torn.
Peter watched them both, his own heart sinking a little as the silence stretched between them. Their hesitation was answer enough, even if they weren't ready to admit it.
Seeing their struggle, Peter smiled sadly, a bit disappointed but understanding. "You don't have to decide right now," he said gently. "I'm not leaving this second. You have time to think about it. And if you decide not to come, that's okay too."
His smile softened as he added, "Earth is my home. I'll come back sooner or later."
Both Natasha and Mikaela looked at him, their emotions still swirling, but neither of them spoke. They simply nodded, their minds clearly occupied with what they had to figure out.
Natasha was the first to step forward, her gaze lingering on Peter's face. Without a word, she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a soft but meaningful kiss. Peter could feel the intensity behind it—a mix of unresolved feelings and unspoken promises. When she pulled away, she gave him a brief, determined look before turning to walk away.
Mikaela, not to be outdone, followed closely behind Natasha's actions. She stepped up to Peter, her hands lightly resting on his shoulders as she leaned in. Her kiss was equally passionate, filled with emotion and a silent declaration that she wouldn't give up either. She smirked against his lips as she pulled back, sending Natasha a glance before following her down the hallway.
Without another word, the two women disappeared, leaving Peter standing alone outside his quarters. As they vanished from view, Peter let out a quiet sigh. Whatever they chose, he would respect it, but a part of him couldn't help but feel the weight of the decisions they all had to make.
————
Meanwhile, Tony soared through the air in his Iron Man suit, the world beneath him blurring as he cut through the sky. His thoughts were racing as he processed everything. The opportunity to leave Earth behind, to travel the galaxy—it was tempting. But the responsibilities he had here weighed heavily on his mind.
"Shall I prepare for a long trip, sir?" Jarvis asked, his voice calm and professional, though there was a hint of curiosity behind the question. "I overheard your conversation with Mr. Quill. Will you be leaving the planet with him?"
Tony's expression tightened inside the helmet. "Don't worry about that now, Jarvis," he muttered, his tone conflicted. "We've got more important things to handle. Bring up the locations we've been tracking."
"Understood, sir. Displaying the targets now."
On his HUD, a series of red markers lit up, scattered across the globe. These were the places Tony had been investigating for weeks—places where Stane had secretly sold Stark Industries' weapons under the table. Dangerous people, gangs, terrorists, and criminals who had gotten their hands on advanced tech that could wreak havoc if left unchecked.
"It's time to clean up some loose ends," Tony said grimly, setting his sights on the first target.
…
The first location was a heavily fortified compound in Eastern Europe, a haven for a group of warlords who had gotten their hands on Stark Industries weapons…
Tony descended from the sky, his suit gleaming in the sunlight as he landed with a heavy thud. The guards stationed outside barely had time to react before Tony's repulsor blasts tore through them, leaving nothing but scorched earth and twisted metal in their wake.
The compound's alarm blared to life, and soon, more armed men flooded out, firing everything they had at Tony. Bullets, missiles, energy weapons—it didn't matter. The Iron Man suit absorbed it all.
Tony unleashed a barrage of firepower, his repulsors lighting up the battlefield as he tore through the compound's defenses. Explosions rocked the area as his targeting system locked onto weapon caches, destroying them with pinpoint precision. One by one, the men fell, their weapons useless against the unstoppable force that was Iron Man.
Tony didn't hold back. He moved with ruthless efficiency, taking out anyone who stood in his way. He didn't flinch as he ended each threat with lethal precision. His HUD flashed with alerts of people fleeing in terror, but none of them would escape.
By the time the dust settled, the compound was reduced to rubble. Only the victims—men, women, and children who had been caught in the crossfire of the warlords—remained, their eyes wide with fear and awe as they watched Tony fly off into the sky.
…
The next stop was in the Middle East, where the Ten Rings had been using stolen Stark tech to wage war against neighboring factions. Tony wasted no time. He dropped into the heart of their camp, his armor gleaming in the harsh desert sun.
The terrorists scrambled to defend themselves, firing off everything they had. Missiles streaked through the air, and energy blasts tore through the sand, but Tony weaved through each of them, unscathed.
His repulsors flared to life, sending waves of energy into the camp, obliterating vehicles and weapons in a matter of seconds. He moved with the precision of a machine, tearing through bunkers and armories, leaving no room for retaliation.
One of the terrorists charged at him with a rocket launcher, screaming in rage. Tony calmly raised his hand, firing a concentrated blast that vaporized the man on the spot.
No mercy. No hesitation.
By the time he was done, the camp was a smoking ruin. The survivors—those who had been held captive or enslaved by the Ten Rings—looked on in awe as Tony flew away, their hearts filled with gratitude for the metal savior who had freed them.
…
The final target was a crime syndicate in South America, operating out of a sprawling city, using Stark weapons to control the streets, ruling the city like corrupt kings. Tony flew in under the cover of night, his suit shimmering in the moonlight as he approached their stronghold.
The syndicate had rigged the place with traps, automated turrets, and drones, all armed with Stark tech. But none of it could stop Iron Man.
He tore through the defenses like a force of nature. The turrets exploded in showers of sparks, the drones were swatted out of the sky, and the criminals inside the stronghold fell one by one.
Tony didn't go easy on them. He wasn't in the mood for mercy. He systematically eliminated every member of the syndicate, leaving no one alive. His final target, the syndicate leader, tried to flee in a helicopter, but Tony caught up to him easily, ripping the helicopter apart with his bare hands before leaving the man to plummet to the ground below.
With the syndicate destroyed, Tony took a moment to look down at the city below. The streets were empty, but he knew that people were watching. Some of them would call him a hero for what he had done tonight. Others would call him something else.
…
As Tony flew back home, Jarvis's voice echoed in his helmet. "The news networks have been buzzing with reports of your actions, sir. Would you like to hear them?"
"Yeah, why not?" Tony replied, his tone tired but determined.
On his HUD, the news reports flashed up. Video footage showed Iron Man flying across the globe, attacking various compounds and strongholds, taking down dangerous organizations with brutal efficiency. Some of the news anchors hailed him as a hero, praising his efforts to rid the world of dangerous weapons and criminals.
Others, however, weren't so kind. "A vigilante," one anchor called him. "Tony Stark is taking the law into his own hands, acting as judge, jury, and executioner."
The footage of him killing the criminals flashed on the screen. But then, other footage showed the people he saved—men, women, and children, looking up at Iron Man with expressions of awe and gratitude.
"Divisive as ever, huh?" Tony muttered.
Just as he finished speaking, a sudden notification popped up on his HUD: Incoming call from Colonel James Rhodes.
"Sir, Colonel Rhodes is calling," JARVIS's voice chimed in, before seamlessly patching the call through Tony's helmet.
"Tony," Rhodey's voice came through loud and clear, laced with frustration. "What the hell do you think you're doing right now?! The whole world is watching you tear people apart on live TV!"
Tony blinked, playing dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about, Rhodey. I'm home right now, kicked back on my couch with a very expensive bottle of whiskey to keep me company." He pretended to take a sip from an imaginary glass, his tone casual.
Rhodey scoffed audibly on the other end. "Really? Well, I'm here at your place too—and I don't see you anywhere."
Tony winced, quickly thinking on his feet. "Oh, uh… you're breaking up, Rhodey. Must be a bad signal or something. You know how these satellites are." He started tapping the side of his helmet, making exaggerated static noises with his mouth. "Kssh… can't… hear… you…"
Rhodey wasn't having it. "Tony, stop this nonsense. I know what you're doing, and this is not going to—"
"Kssh… still… breaking up. Gotta go! Talk later, bud." With that, Tony quickly disconnected the call before Rhodey could get another word in.
————
Back aboard the Atlas, Peter sat in his quarters, watching the news reports about Tony's actions. He saw the footage of Iron Man cutting through the world's most dangerous organizations, leaving a trail of destruction and freedom in his wake.
"Interesting," Peter muttered to himself, wondering if Tony truly intended to join him…
A/N: 2202 words :)
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