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The week leading up to Peter's departure from Earth had been a whirlwind of activity, as he balanced his responsibilities to the Jedi, time with his family, dates with Natasha and Mikaela, and the looming weight of a reunion he'd been avoiding—something Peter wasn't even ready to think about yet.
But right now, Peter stood on the construction site in New York, his boots sinking slightly into the dirt as he surveyed the prime location the Jedi were given. 'Perfect…'
Thanks to his connections with Peggy and SHIELD—and, of course, a little influence from the President—he had been able to pull a few strings and expedite the process of acquiring this piece of land in the heart of Manhattan.
"I still can't believe we're actually doing this," Peter murmured, glancing over at Master Windu, who stood next to him with his usual stoic expression.
"Neither can I," Windu replied, his deep voice cutting through the sounds of the city around them. "But this temple will be crucial to the future of the Jedi on Earth. This location is ideal—close enough to Xavier's school for us to assist one another, and in the heart of a bustling city where we can discover Force-sensitive individuals."
Peter nodded, feeling a surge of pride. Establishing a Jedi Temple on Earth was just a dream until now, one he hadn't thought would come to fruition this soon. But now, as he walked through the site, he could already picture how it would look—the towering structure, the open training courtyards, the serene meditation rooms, all serving as a beacon of peace and knowledge.
"You're sure you'll be able to manage without me?" Peter asked with a hint of reluctance in his voice. "Once I leave, you and the others will be on your own."
Windu gave him a reassuring glance. "We'll manage. You've laid the groundwork for us. We'll carry it forward from here."
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Later that evening, Peter found himself sitting in his grandparents' room in the Atlas, his heart heavy with the conversation he knew he had to have.
Luckily, his uncle wasn't there, as their last encounter had ended with Peter cutting ties completely. 'If I see him again, I might strangle him to death…' he thought.
"Grandma… Grandpa," Peter began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I need to tell you something."
His grandmother immediately sensed the gravity in his tone, her eyes widening. "Peter, what is it? You're not—"
"I'm leaving Earth," he said, cutting through her worry before it could spiral. "Soon."
The silence that followed felt like a lead weight in the room. His grandparents stared at him, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief.
"You're… leaving?" his grandmother repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
Peter nodded, trying to remain calm even though he knew how hard this would be for them to hear. "There's a lot out there for me. I have responsibilities beyond Earth… things I need to take care of. I wish I could stay, but I can't. Not forever." He explained, adding. "But I'll be back soon enough. You won't have to wait long, I promise."
His grandfather, usually quiet during these types of conversations, spoke up with a firmness Peter hadn't expected. "You don't need to leave, Peter. There's plenty for you here. You have family, friends… why do you need to go?"
Peter felt the sting of their words but stayed patient. "I know. And believe me, I wish I could stay longer. But this… this is part of who I am. There's more out there—more friends, more experiences, more things I have to face, more adventures to explore..."
His grandmother's eyes were shining with unshed tears. "But Peter… Can't you stay with us a little longer? We only just got you back…"
Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and moved closer, taking his grandmother's hand in his. "I'll come back. Earth is still my home, and I'll always return. But for now, I need to go. And when I do… I need to know that you're okay with it. That you're okay with me doing what I need to do."
The silence stretched out again, but this time it wasn't as heavy. His grandparents shared a glance, and then, with a sigh, his grandfather nodded slowly. "We understand, Peter. We don't like it… but we understand."
His grandmother sniffed, wiping her eyes. "You take care of yourself out there, okay? And don't you dare forget to come back."
Peter smiled softly, pulling them both into a warm hug. "I won't. I promise."
The embrace lingered for a moment, bittersweet but filled with love and understanding. When they finally pulled apart, his grandmother patted his cheek and said, "Go make us proud, Peter. But don't stay away too long."
Peter nodded, standing up with a sense of finality. "Thank you… for everything."
As he walked out of their home, the weight of what he was leaving behind settled on his shoulders, but there was also a lightness—a sense of freedom.
————
Peter leaned back in his chair, the cool night breeze brushing his skin as he and Mikaela sat atop the rooftop restaurant, the skyline of New York City glowing in the distance. They had chosen this spot because it was relaxed, casual, and far away from the chaos they were usually surrounded by.
Mikaela laughed, tossing her hair back as she teasingly threw a piece of bread at Peter. "How is it that I'm the one paying?" she joked asked, the check sitting in front of her.
Peter grinned, catching the bread in his mouth. "Equality, baby. It's a wonderful thing, isn't it?"
She shook her head, smiling as she leaned back in her chair, her eyes twinkling in the soft lights that hung above them. "Is it really equality when it's your money I'm spending?"
After all, he gave her the money she was spending…
Peter laughed, shrugging uncaringly. "Does it really matter?"
He's been feeling the tension of everything else in his life ease away for just a moment. Being with Mikaela like this, with no planetary threats or looming responsibilities, was refreshing.
As the night went on, they wound up in a park together, sitting side by side on the swing set.
Silence ensued as Peter's thoughts drifted. There was so much left unsaid between them. They both knew there was a decision hanging in the air—one Mikaela hadn't made yet.
Mikaela smiled again, this time more teasingly. "So, what do you think? Do I come with you, or would you rather ditch me to be with your other girlfriend?"
Peter raised a brow, "Are you both my girlfriends now?"
Mikaela averted her gaze, muttering, "What else would we be?"
Peter chuckled. "Well, then you both better come along, huh? What kind of girlfriend would you be if you let your boyfriend run off without you?"
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The following evening, Peter found himself sitting across from Natasha in a dimly lit, upscale restaurant, the atmosphere between them charged with an intensity he had grown accustomed to.
"I heard about your little rooftop dinner with Mikaela," Natasha said coolly, her eyes never leaving Peter's.
Peter shrugged, not denying it. "Yeah, it was fun."
Natasha smirked, but her eyes were sharp. "Fun. Right." She took a sip of her drink before setting it down with a quiet clink. "So, what's your plan, Peter? You're leaving soon, and you still haven't told me what happens next."
Peter could feel the tension rising between them. Natasha had always been the more direct, fiery one, and she wasn't the type to let things slide. He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he considered how to answer her.
"I'm still figuring that out," he admitted, trying to lighten the mood with a small smile. "I mean, I may be a space wizard, but it's not like I have a crystal ball telling me what's going to happen."
Natasha didn't smile. "This isn't a joke, Peter."
Peter's smirk ebbed as he turned a bit more serious. "I know," he said softly. "But the truth is, I don't have all the answers yet. There are things I need to do out there, things I can't avoid."
Natasha's gaze bore into his, her competitive spirit mixing with the affection she held for him. "And what about us? Where do we fit into your plans, Peter? Am I supposed to just wait around while you run off across the galaxy?"
Peter tried to find the right words, but Natasha wasn't the type to wait. Before he could answer, she stood up, moving to his side of the table, and kissed him. The kiss was charged with the same fiery intensity Natasha always brought, her passion and frustration spilling over in that moment.
When she pulled away, she met his gaze with a determined look. "If you think you can just leave me behind, you've got another thing coming..."
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The next day, the Atlas was bustling with activity as Peter's crew made their final checks before departure. Transformers stomped back and forth, loading supplies as Rocket double-checked Atlas's systems.
But Peter's mind wasn't on the preparations. There was something he had to do before he could leave Earth. Without telling anyone, he slipped away from the ship and made his way to a small Jedi Starfighter waiting in the hangar.
Moments later, Peter found himself soaring over the clouds, heading toward a place he hadn't been able to face until now: his hometown, St. Charles, Missouri.
He landed the ship in a secluded area near a cemetery, where the trees stood tall enough to hide his ride.
As he walked through the woods, his heart pounded in his chest. He hadn't been back here since he was taken by the Ravagers, and the weight of that time weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Finally, he reached a grave.
His mother's name was etched into the stone, and as Peter stood before it, all the emotions he had bottled up for so long came rushing to the surface. His legs felt weak as he knelt before her grave, his hands trembling.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I should've come sooner... I'm a coward for waiting this long."
Tears stung his eyes as he placed his hand on the cold stone. "I've been back for a while now… but I… I just couldn't… I was too scared to see you like this."
Peter's voice wavered as he started telling her everything. "Mom, I—there's so much I need to tell you," he began, his throat tightening. He stared at the gravestone, running his fingers over the cool stone. "After… after you were gone, everything just fell apart. I got kidnapped. The Ravagers—these space pirates—real a*sholes."
Of course, he left out the darkest parts—he didn't want to worry her, even in death.
Peter told her about being rescued by the Jedi, about how they had taken him in and trained him, about his journey across the galaxy. He spoke about becoming a Jedi Knight and all the adventures he'd had.
But the more he spoke, the harder it became to hold himself together. The Force around him pulsed with his emotions, and before long, it began to manifest physically. A storm of energy whipped through the cemetery, sending leaves and debris flying, yet leaving Peter and his mother's grave untouched.
His fingers tightened on the gravestone. "I just… I wish you could've seen it. I wish you could've seen who I became. I'm doing all right, but—" Peter's voice cracked as he whispered, "I miss you so much, Mom. I miss you every day."
The storm raged around him, as wild and uncontrollable as the emotions inside him. His grief, his guilt, his love—all of it poured out, and the Force reacted accordingly.
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his voice growing hoarse as he continued. "I'm sorry I didn't visit you sooner. I was too scared… Scared of admitting that you're really gone..."
Peter's breath hitched as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the stone. "But I've been trying to make you proud, Mom. I've been trying to do the right thing, to be the kind of man you wanted me to be."
When the storm finally calmed, Peter sat there, his body trembling from the emotional toll. The cemetery was still again, quiet except for the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.
As Peter wiped his eyes, a voice spoke from behind him: "What an adventure you've had."
Peter's heart skipped a beat. For a brief moment, he hoped—desperately—that it was his mother's spirit speaking to him. But when he turned around, he saw someone else. A bald woman in a yellow monk's robe.
[Insert picture of The Ancient One here]
It was The Ancient One, standing there with a warm smile on her face, her eyes filled with understanding.
Peter stared at her, realization dawning on him. This meeting was no coincidence.
"I'm sure your mother would be very proud of you, Peter…"
A/N: 2202 words :)
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