R.I.P Pete | Chapter 3| 5 Taken 1 Fallen

🌙 Chapter: The Driveway

The night was quiet, heavy with stillness. The stars blinked above like distant watchers, and the gravel shimmered faintly under the porch light.

Inside the house, Alaina’s father leaned against the counter, keys in hand.

“Guys wanna go get ice cream from Walmart?” he asked casually.

“Yeah!” Audie shouted, already heading toward the door.

Faith grinned, grabbing her purse. “Plus, I wanna drive!”

Their voices echoed through the house, spilling out into the yard.

Outside, Pete crouched near the porch, ears perked. He didn’t know what ice cream was, but he knew excitement. He padded toward the driveway, chasing a moth that fluttered the gravel with its delicate wings, stirring tiny clouds of dust in the moonlight.

Faith climbed into the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirrors with a proud smile. Audie slid into the passenger side.

The engine roared to life.

As the car rolled backward, Faith glanced in the mirror—and saw movement.

A small shape squirming.

A tail twitching.

Her heart dropped.

“Dad...” she said, voice trembling. “I think I ran over a cat.”

Her father didn’t even look. “Okay, look towards the road where you’re supposed to be looking.”

Faith’s chest tightened. She stared ahead, silent, believing it was Cat Blanc. The car rolled forward. Pete stopped moving. The gravel settled.

They drove off toward Walmart, headlights fading into the night

🏡 Back at Home

Alaina sat beside her mom, both of them watching a movie trailer on her mom’s phone. The screen glowed softly in the dim room, casting flickers of light across their faces.

Dave was nearby, focused on his game, the quiet clicks of the controller filling the background.

Then her mom’s phone rang.

She answered it.

It was Faith.

Her voice came through, shaky. “Where’s Alaina?”

Alaina looked up. “Right here,” she said, leaning closer to the phone.

Faith’s voice cracked. “Alaina… I ran over your cat…”

Alaina’s breath caught. “W…which one??”

There was silence. Then Faith stuttered, her voice trembling. “Cat Blanc…”

Alaina stood up fast. Her mom looked over, concerned. Dave paused his game.

Alaina didn’t explain. She just ran.

Out the door.
Down the steps.
Into the yard.

The porch light spilled across the gravel.

And there he was.

Pete.

Not Cat Blanc.

He lay still, his body quiet, fur ruffled by the wind. The gravel around him was disturbed—that flutter the gravel—but now everything was silent.

Alaina’s breath caught. “No…”

She dropped to her knees beside him, the world spinning.

Her scream tore through the night. “It’s not Cat Blanc—it’s Pete!”

🐾 Sassy and Stary Arrive

Sassy heard her first. She bolted from the garden, paws skimming the earth.

Stary followed, her eyes wide and confused.

They hadn’t seen it happen. They hadn’t known.

Now they did.

Sassy froze when she saw Pete’s body, her breath catching in her throat.

Stary didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just sat beside Pete, pawing at him gently.

“Pete?” she whispered. “We were supposed to train tonight…”

Sassy pressed her muzzle to Pete’s fur, tears streaking her face. “He’s gone, Stary. He’s gone.”

But Stary didn’t listen. She curled beside Pete, whispering stories to the lifeless form as if nothing had changed.

✨ StarClan’s Welcome

Above, in the quiet sky of StarClan, Tabitha felt the shift.

A new soul had arrived.

Pete blinked, confused. “It’s dark. Where am I?”

Tabitha stepped forward, her eyes soft. “You’re with us now. You’re in StarClan.”

Nightflare stood beside her, golden eyes glowing. “You’re safe, Pete. But your friends still need you.”

Pete looked down, sorrow blooming in his chest. “Stary... she’s still playing with me.”

Tabitha nodded. “She’s grieving. But we’ll guide her. We’ll guide them all.”

Pete sat beside her, watching the stars flicker below. “I didn’t mean to leave.”

“None of us did,” Nightflare said. “But now we protect the ones who still can.”

Tabitha looked out over the field of glowing grass. “We’ll send dreams. We’ll send warnings. We’ll help them survive.”

Pete nodded slowly. “I want to help.”

Nightflare placed his tail gently over Pete’s shoulders. “Then you will.”

The night air was still.

Alaina sat in the gravel, knees tucked to her chest, her hand resting gently on Pete’s fur. The porch light flickered softly above her, casting long shadows across the yard.

Sassy stood nearby, Pete’s mother, her tail wrapped tightly around her paws. She let out a low, steady meow—long and mournful, like a song only the stars could understand.

Stary lay curled beside Pete, her small body pressed against his. She meowed softly, again and again, each sound fragile and trembling. Alaina didn’t know what the words meant, but she felt them. Deeply.

No one moved.

No one rushed.

The world had paused.

Above them, the stars blinked gently—like distant eyes watching, waiting.

And somewhere in that sky, Pete stood beside Tabitha and Nightflare, looking down.

“I want them to be okay,” Pete said quietly.

“They will be,” Tabitha replied. “Because you loved them. And because now, you’ll help guide them.”

Nightflare nodded. “This is where the Clan begins. Not with warriors—but with love.”

Pete looked out over the glowing field, then back down toward the yard where his family still sat.

“My mom,” he whispered. “My sister. Alaina. I don’t want them to hurt.”

Tabitha placed a paw on his shoulder. “Then send them peace.”

Pete closed his eyes. “I’ll send them a dream. Something soft. Something warm. Just so they know I’m still here.”

Back in the yard, a breeze stirred the grass.

Stary’s meows grew quieter, more rhythmic—like a lullaby.

Sassy lifted her head and let out one final sound: a short, sharp cry that echoed into the night.

Alaina blinked, her eyes stinging. She didn’t understand their language, but she understood their grief.

She looked up at the stars.

And for the first time since Pete had gone still, she whispered, “I think he’s watching.”

The night held them gently, like a blanket of quiet.

And above, the stars shimmered—one brighter than the rest.

Pete.

Watching.

Protecting.

Waiting for what came next.