Far From Home - PP

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Word count: 983
Description: in honour of Tom releasing the title for Spider-Man Two, or I guess I should say Spider-Man Far From Home I thought I'd make my really incorrect take on it. I mean, I honestly don't really know the plot of the movie, other than the Mysterio rumours, and it taking place in Europe which now makes sense given the title. This is just my take on the sequel.

You had disappeared. You were gone. Turned to ash. And... you returned. Peter tried to explain it to you, best he could. How Thanos had gathered the stones, and snapped his large purple fingers. But you still didn't understand. How were you back? What had happened? Adjusting to life after that was hard on everyone. Either you had died, or you were left behind, to watch your loved ones as well as half of humanity disintegrate. The majority of your classmates didn't bother returning to school afterwards. Peter was still grieving the death of Tony Stark, the last father figure he had.

The two of you were lying on your bed together one day, just thinking, when Peter turned to you.

"I... I think I'm gonna leave. Queens."

"What?" You whispered, horror filling your soul.

"I'm gonna go to Europe. I can't... I can't stay here. In New York. Too many memories."

"What about me Peter? What about us?"

"Come with me."

"I can't just leave my family! I have to be there for them!"

"And what about being there for me?" Peter's voice wasn't angry. It was hurt, sad at the thought of being separated from you.

"Peter, we all went through shit. You aren't the only one who's grieving. It's not just you who's traumatised."

"Really? Because you were there on the Titan? And your family was thrown to the ground by Thanos? And all these other people you're talking about who's 'went through shit' first lost their mother and father, then their uncle, then their mentor? Do you feel that pang of guilt in your chest because you know that maybe if you had done one thing differently then none of this would've happened?" Peter sat up, the tears starting to well. There were some days after everyone was rescued from the Soul Stone when Peter just broke down. Sobbing into your shoulder about Tony, about how terrified he was that he was going to relive those events.

"I'm sorry Peter... you're right. You went through much worse than us. But our lives are here."

"My life is wherever you are."

"Pete what about May?"

"She'll come with."

"And school?"

"We're two out of about twenty kids who show up."

"And-"

"I just need to be far from home right now Y/n. I can't stay in New York." Peter sighed, rubbing his temples deeply.

"Well what do you suggest Peter? Where would we go? Would we sneak off like thieves in the night? How would we earn a living?"

"London. We would tell people of course. We could get a group of us. Ned and Michelle could come. It would work I promise." He pleaded to you, looking into your eyes with his large chocolate ones, bottom lip slightly in front of the top, forming a small pout.

"Peter..." you mumbled, holding his hand. "No. I can't leave. And you can't either."

"You don't understand what it's like," he growled, breath vibrating. "Nobody understands." He got off the bed, walking out of the room. You rolled over, telling yourself you'd make up tomorrow at school.

The next morning, you stopped by his apartment, and a frantic May opened the door.

"Is Peter with you?" She asked, tugging on her hair.

"...No. Why? Is he not here?"

"No I don't know where he is! I just found this when I woke up. I tried calling he didn't answer." She went into the kitchen, finding a scrap of paper, reading 'I'm sorry, I had to be far from home'.

"Oh my gosh..." you whispered, "I didn't think he'd actually do it."

"Do what?"

"He kept talking about going to Europe... he said he couldn't bear to be in New York... how the hell did he just leave overnight?" You screamed, whipping out your phone.

"Europe!" May exclaimed, sitting down, "What was he thinking?"

Calling Peter, you were actually surprised when he picked up.

"Peter babe where are you?"

"London. I told you I couldn't stay."

"Why didn't you tell us where you were going? May's worried sick, and I... what am I supposed to do..." you lost your voice, as the tears started flowing down your cheeks. May grabbed the phone from you, yelling at Peter. You sat down on a chair, slowly, rocking back and forth, hands gripping your thighs.

"He wants to talk to you," May said, her voice low from the tears in her eyes.

"Y/n baby please I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that. But I just... you have to understand. I can't stay home. Not after what happened."

"Peter come back to us. What if I never see you again... what am I supposed to do? That's a pretty dick move you know." You laughed dryly, wiping your eyes with the back of your head.

"Y/n... I can't. I told you. The city has too many memories."

"Yeah Peter, it has memories. Our first date. Our first kiss. Homecoming. Skating in Time Square. Study sessions. Watching Star Wars."

"The field trip. Tony fucking Stark."

"So? Peter, that was a sliver of your life. Forget about it-"

"It's not that easy! I'm sorry... but I have to be far from home right now."

A/n okay, I wasn't planning on making it sad... but I went with it. I also wrote this in a few minutes, so it's pretty crummy. But I'm honestly too excited to think straight right now.

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