C194 Uncle…

C194 Uncle...

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Peter stirred in his bed, feeling a sense of deep refreshment that he hadn't experienced in days. His body felt lighter, and the weight of exhaustion that had clung to him since the dam repairs had finally lifted.

He blinked his eyes open, groggy at first, but as the early morning light filtered into his quarters through the narrow windows of his ship, he realized it was dawn. He had slept through the entire day and night.

Stretching his arms over his head, Peter let out a deep sigh, feeling his muscles loosen. It was the best rest he'd had in what felt like forever.

Sitting up, he noticed a tray of food sitting on the small table beside his bed. The smell of breakfast hit his nose, and he smiled to himself.

Natasha and Mikaela must have brought it to him while he was asleep. The thought of them both worrying over him made him chuckle. He silently thanked them as he slid out of bed and walked over to the tray, his stomach growling as he took a seat.

Peter dug into the food, his hunger taking over. He hadn't realized how famished he was, having slept through multiple meals. As he ate, he felt his strength returning with each bite. The scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit were a welcome sight after the chaos of the last few days.

As he ate, the voice of Alfred, his AI assistant, chimed in, calm yet efficient. "Good morning, Master Peter. I trust you slept well?"

Peter smiled at the sound of Alfred's voice, grateful for the AI's presence in his life. "Morning, Alfred. Yeah, I slept great. What's the situation?"

Alfred's voice continued, offering a detailed report as Peter ate. "The Autobots' ship is currently docked with the Red Room base. I have expanded the artificial cloud cover to include their ship as well. Optimus Prime has been asking to speak with you as soon as you're awake. Additionally, I've received word that Tony Stark has re-established contact with Jarvis. It appears Stark Industries was breached yet again, but Mr. Stark has not disclosed what was stolen. He has also been waiting for you to wake up."

Peter nodded as he listened, feeling the weight of responsibility starting to settle back on his shoulders. But even so, he appreciated that he had a team around him to help manage the chaos. "Thanks, Alfred. I'll meet with Optimus and Tony once I've finished breakfast and taken a shower. Any other pressing issues?"

"None at the moment, though I do recommend you take care of your health," Alfred replied, his voice almost taking on a worried tone. It was subtle, but it was there—something Peter had intentionally programmed into the AI.

He had tried to give Alfred emotions, though he had made sure to keep them balanced and avoid the more volatile ones until Alfred was ready to handle them. Still, hearing a note of concern from an AI was always an odd experience, but Peter didn't mind it. It reminded him that Alfred was learning.

Peter chuckled softly. "Thanks for the concern, Alfred. But I'm fine—just needed a good night's sleep. I'll check in with everyone soon."

As Peter continued eating, his thoughts drifted toward the AllSpark, still hanging around his neck. He hadn't thought much about it since the chaos at the dam, but now that he had a moment to himself, he found himself wondering why the relic had chosen him. There was something strange about it. He had seen firsthand how the Autobots revered the AllSpark, yet it had chosen him, someone who wasn't even Cybertronian.

'Why me?' Peter thought as he finished off the last of his breakfast. The idea gnawed at him, making him wonder if it was somehow connected to the Force. Was his ability to wield the AllSpark tied to his sensitivity to the Force? Was that what made him different? He wasn't sure, but it was something worth exploring.

Perhaps later, he would ask Master Windu to try using it, see if the Force played a role in its selection.

But that would have to wait. First, he had meetings to get to.

As Peter finished his meal and cleaned up the tray, he stretched his arms again, feeling his body fully waking up. He had a lot to get done today, and the peace of the morning was a welcome calm before whatever storm was waiting for him next.

He headed to the small bathroom on his ship, ready to shower and go through his usual morning routine. The day was just beginning, and Peter had no doubt it was going to be a long one. But for now, he allowed himself to enjoy the quiet, grateful for the moments of normalcy before the chaos resumed.

————

With his morning rituals complete and his stomach full, Peter made his way to the hangar where the Autobot ship was docked.

Alfred's voice came through the comms, calm but efficient. "Understood, Master Peter. I'll begin preparations immediately."

Peter then turned to Optimus. "Get your men ready too. I don't know when Megatron will strike, but we need to be ready."

Optimus nodded solemnly. "Consider it done. The Autobots will stand with you."

Peter turned to Tony next, his expression serious. "You're in charge here for now. Make sure everything is running smoothly."

Tony blinked, clearly not expecting that. "Wait—where are you going?"

Peter didn't slow down as he walked away, his voice echoing back to Tony as he disappeared around the corner. "I need to see my family. And meet my uncle."

...

..

.

Peter's footsteps echoed down the hallway as he made his way to the rooms where his grandparents were staying. His mind was a swirl of thoughts, but the primary one was making sure they were okay, especially after being thrust into the chaos surrounding him.

As he approached their door, he heard voices coming from inside. At first, it was muffled, but as he drew closer, the tone became clear—and it wasn't good.

"You're both idiots! Absolute fools for believing any of this nonsense!" a man's voice shouted. It was harsh, filled with venom. Peter didn't need to see the speaker to know it was his uncle.

Peter's jaw clenched as he stopped just outside the door, listening. His uncle continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "My nephew is dead. He's been dead for years. This guy—whoever he is—is a liar, a scam artist, and you're too blind to see it! Do you even know how he's connected to Tony Stark? He's probably just some conman trying to get his hands on Stark's money."

Peter's fists tightened, his blood boiling as he heard his uncle spew more bile.

Inside the room, Peter's grandparents tried to reason with him, their voices soft and patient. "We don't believe that, Michael. We've seen him. He's—"

But his uncle, Michael, wouldn't let them get a word in. He laughed, a cruel sound, cutting them off. "Of course you don't believe it! You're as gullible as my idiot of a sister was! She actually believed that the guy who knocked her up and disappeared was some sort of angel. She was a moron, and so are you for believing this is Peter!"

That was it.

Peter's vision blurred with fury. No one talked about his mother like that.

Without thinking, he stormed into the room, his presence so sudden and unexpected that all conversation came to an abrupt halt. His grandparents turned toward him in surprise, their expressions filled with a mix of relief and shock. "Peter—"

Michael, however, just sneered, clearly ready to say something nasty.

But Peter didn't care.

Before his uncle could even open his mouth, Peter was on him. He swung his fist hard, connecting squarely with Michael's face. The punch sent him reeling, his body crashing to the floor with a heavy thud.

The room fell into a stunned silence as Michael lay there, groaning, his hand clutching his nose. Peter stood over him, "Nobody talks about my mother like that." He growled, his voice low and dangerous.

A/N: 2132 words :)????????