Chapter Text
Peter Quill was in trouble.
The kind of trouble that makes him want to use the Time Stone, meet his momma and tell her that she should never agree to have babies with a guy named Jason. Because that would ultimately lead to this day.
The Guardians had received a distress signal from a planet named Achernon from the dark end of the quadrant. But the signal had been in a Gorgei dialect. What thin file they had on the Achernonians revealed them to be tall purple creatures, with a taste for discipline. Nothing promising there. For all they knew, Achernonians could have been giant octopuses with an appetite for celestial flesh. They landed on the yellow planet in a rush, like the heroes they were - with no plan or preparation.
Thankfully, the Achernonians were humanoid. But they turned out to be slave traders, which wasn’t much of a bargain.
Peter sighed and yanked his chain, again.
Rocket who was in the same cell as he yawned and settled himself comfortably on the floor. “Stop being so noisy, fucktard. I’m tryna’ sleep here.”
Peter kicked him in the shin.
“Ow!” said Rocket, his spit flying everywhere,”What was that for Mr. Pissypants?”
“Aren’t you going to think of ways to get out of here, you rodent?” said Peter pulling against his chains so that he could knock some sense into the raccoon.
“Well, let me think,” Rocket made a show of thinking but tapping on his chin, “We could blast the walls off and escape except they seized all our A-grade explosives, we could run Milano through these walls except our ship was shot down. We could try hand-to-hand except the entire crew is chained and the captain of the crew doesn’t even know how to land a kick!”
“I do know how to kick,” said Peter, kicking Rocket again. “There,” he said, triumphantly.
“I’m gonna bury a Skrull grenade up your ass when I get off these chains,” yawned Rocket again, shifting away from Peter’s reach and settling down for a nap.
“Aren’t you worried in the slightest about what’s going to happen?”
“You said it yourself,” said Rocket, looking at his nails casually, “I’m a rodent. What use could they possibly have for me? The moment they realize they can’t profit from me, I’ll be out of here. You on the other hand - get ready to get your ass fucked by some rich, old pervert.”
“Right,” said Peter, rolling his eyes. “The only one who has to worry about that is probably Gamora.”
“Trust me,” said Rocket rolling around and turning his back to Peter, “You would make a far easier butt-slave than Gamora. Now zip. I need to get my beauty sleep.”
Peter awoke with a start. For a confused second, he thought he was lying on his bunk and tried to step off it, only to realize he had fallen asleep on the floor. Things came rushing to him then, and he cast an irritated glare at Rocket. The raccoon who was snoring loud in his sleep jerked awake when the gates to their cell rattled unpleasantly.
“It wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything!” yelled Rocket, pointing at Peter. “It was him!”
Peter wanted to slap him for being such a douche, but the figure looming over the cell entrance caught his attention. They hadn’t been kidding when they had said the creatures were tall. The purple figure covered in a metal armor, dead black eyes, decaying sharp teeth, carrying a pike that was eight feet tall, spikes on its arm and a tail that was as tall it was, looked like a creature something would find on a painting of hell.
The ugly being stretched its spike and pointed at Rocket. “If you move, you will die.”
Rocket gulped visibly and his little legs trembled. Peter scoffed. So much for his bravado.
The guard opened the cell door. Peter flinched as the being neared him. He had gotten a taste of their strength when they had been captured, but it still didn’t stop him from trying to land a punch. The being easily bent his arm backward and pushed his face against the wall. This close to the creature, the smell of rot and sulfur was overwhelming and made him dizzy. Something was thrust against his face. Peter struggled at first but relaxed when he realized that it was an oxygen mask. His chain was detached from the wall and was pulled away.
“Hey, where are you taking him asswipe?” mouthed of Rocket, baring his teeth.
The ugly being turned its ominous eyes on the raccoon and simply said, “To the market, of course.”
Peter felt his color drain. He needed his blasters.
*
The market was more of a dungeon than a market. It was dark, damp and if not for the mask on Peter it would have reeked of sulfur. There was a huge assortment of humanoid creatures in varying states of nakedness being hauled around the maze-like rooms. Peter was extremely thankful for his clothes that had been left untouched, but he wished he had held on to at least one of his grenades. A distraction and he could be out of here. But of course, his peevish mind kindly reminded him, they had taken away his boots, too.
Peter looked out for any sign of a green-skinned, red-haired woman, but he found no luck there. Instead, he found Drax sitting in a high chair in one of the bigger dungeons, drinking off of a crystal cup and being attended by small, pink being with fluttery wings and no tail. Peter let out of a half-relieved, half-strangled laugh. The galaxy favored him. Drax had somehow won the favor of the Achernonians. Peter strongly suspected it had something to do with the color of his skin. What a bunch of racist fuckers, thought Peter.
“Drax,” yelled Peter, pulling away from the purple monster and waved as best as he could with his chained arm, “It’s me, Quill! Here! Right here, Drax!”
His captor stopped and turned its massive body, and held its sharp spike to his heart, “Quiet, monkey! Or you will find yourself accidentally dead,” it said. Peter would have spat on its face but he was too busy looking at his friend. Drax didn’t give him so much as a glance. Maybe, he couldn’t hear him through the air mask. But before he could try anything more the creature pulled him ahead. He was led through a sea of indistinguishable Achernonian faces, through a series of caves, steps, and badly lit paths. They came to stop at a clearing. A particularly dark purple colored creature sat on a huge chair made out of yellow crystals. A few of the pink creatures Peter had seen earlier were swarming around this one, too. A plan started forming in his mind. Peter would climb up the crystal chair, get a piece of that crystal, stab the leader - and then, his plan flew right off his mind and committed suicide. For there stood, the last person Peter thought he would find here.
Thor Odinson, in all his glory, the unnecessary mass of muscles and billowing red cape stood facing the purple leader. What was worse, he didn’t seem like he had been taken captive. His faithful Stormbreaker was by his side, slung loosely from his hip. He put two and two together, and his conclusions didn’t please him.
“You!” said Peter, accusingly, “You are the one who’s buying me?” He felt humiliated.
Thor turned, and Peter remembered why he hated the God so much. He looked as perfect as ever. Tall, sinful biceps, flowing golden locks, flat stomach, a shoulder that looked like it could carry a mountain, and those thighs - yes, Peter hated him. Even more so when Thor gave him a hearty smile that reached his stupidly electric blue eyes.
“Quill!” roared Thor and was before him in an instant. If Peter’s hand hadn’t been tied he would have definitely pushed Thor when he tried to engulf him in a hug. As it were, face burning, he let himself be embraced in the most awkward hug in the history of the Galaxy. He felt small and breakable in those arms that felt like steel.
“Let go of me!”, he said with as much dignity as he could muster. But he needn’t have worried. Peter’s captor put his spike in between them. Thor frowned and cast the Achernonian guard a challenging look. Then seemingly changed his mind, shrugged, patted Peter on the shoulder and walked away.
“Oh Rolharl the noblest!” said Thor, addressing the creature on the throne. The pink creatures flying around the monster became still and cast Thor a curious look. “The protector of the Unakalhai and peace-keeper of the Achernonians, I find myself surprised that you would heed to trivial matters such as this.”
Rolharl, the purple leader, the ugliest of the lot, titled his head and gave Thor a curious look. “What surprises me,” said he, “is why would a God such as yourself, get involved in such trivial matters. Don’t you have worlds to save and apocalypses to stop? Why get involved in a small business decision in some corner of a civilization you haven’t even deigned fit to visit in the last three hundred years?”
Thor raised his hands as if to appease the creature. “I’m not here to interfere. I’m here to make a business deal just like anybody else.”
“Deal, what deal?”, interrupted Peter, “You are dangerously delusional if you think you can buy me off some deal, asshole.” He did not need Thor saving his ass.
Thor and Rolharl both glared at him. Even the pink pests glared at him. Peter shut up when the spike he was so very familiar with now, was shoved under his throat.
“I find myself in a need of a few slaves. To restore the Asgardian palace. As you might be aware, it has met with tremendous damage in the past year and requires a few skilled hands.”
“I don’t care to what purpose you dispose your slaves. But this creature speaks too much,” said Rolharl, contemplatively, “Are you sure this is the one you want?”
Thor turned to give Peter a look that looked a little guilty. Peter glared at him with all his might.
“Yes,” said Thor, turning back, “But it would please me to buy all of the Morons and the rabbit.”
“What do you offer in return?”
Thor stopped to consider for a moment. It occurred to Peter, that the God might have nothing to offer except his wrath. This thought cheered up Peter, considerably. If Thor’s plan was to break them out, he didn’t mind. Not even if it meant that Thor would goad him for saving his ass. It was only the thought of being bought for a price that infuriated him.
“I have five Asgardian gold rings,” said Thor, producing the said coins and offering it to Rolharl. “It’s worth a lot ,” he explained.
“You can only buy one for that.”
Peter wanted to punch Thor so bad. He told himself he would get his chance.
*
He got his chance the moment his chains were unlocked and he escorted into the Asgardian vessel that awaited him outside the yellow city. Thor stood with a grin on his face and his hands spread in a welcome gesture.
Peter punched him in the gut or at least tried to. His hand met metal over metal and stung like a motherfucker. Peter yowled.
Thor caught his hand. “Why are you hurting yourself, my friend?” said Thor, genuinely curious. “Come in, let’s see if I can find you something cold to soothe the pain.”
“What the hell just happened?” demanded Peter trudging behind Thor. He took off his air mask as soon as the vessel’s door closed behind him. He fleetingly wondered why Thor hadn’t required a mask. Or Drax, for that matter. “Is this some kind of ploy to humiliate me and my crew?”
Thor looked from where he was rummaging through a freezer and gave him a confused look. “Humiliate you?”
“Yeah, you could have just used your stupid hammer or whatever you call it and blasted this whole city into oblivion. But instead, you decided to buy me. I’ll have you know I’m a lot more worth than five coins, you .”
“Here,” said Thor thrusting a packet of ice cubes. He sported a deep frown, but his voice was gentle when he said, “I cannot blast off a city into oblivion.”
“Of course, you can’t,” said Peter, crossing his hands, “Who sent you? S.H.I.E.L.D? They should have sent Banner instead. The only thing you accomplished by coming here is to piss me off.”
Thor turned and got into Peter’s space faster than a blink. Deep blue eyes, as old as a civilization looked down at him, and there was a warning in those eyes. “I sent myself,” said Thor slowly. “And I misspoke. It is not that I cannot, but I shall not. There are hundreds of creatures that live on this planet - some innocent and some not so very. Acharenonians maintain their peace with the rest of the world, so long as we do not interfere with their economic decisions.”
Thor’s warm breath fell on Peter, and he could smell him now - damp pine trees and honey mead. There was a current in the air, that Peter suspected had something to do with the fact that this man could create electricity at will. But he chose to ignore all those for the moment.
“By economic decision, you mean taking into their hands the will of thousands of sentient creatures,” said Peter, snidely, lifting his face up in a challenge. Too close, thought Peter, but he didn’t want to back down.
Thor gazed at him with a peculiar expression on his face that Peter could not read. Peter found it extremely disturbing. Then as abruptly as that had come, Thor smirked and patted his arm and moved away.
“You are right, Lord of Stars,” said Thor, loftily, punching in something in the helm console by the front. “But you will find that I have learned my lessons when it comes to starting a war. Now, do you want to save your friends or not?”
Peter glared at the God’s back as he removed his hammer and deposited it unceremoniously between the two chairs to the front. He then settled himself and warmed up the thrusters. “Well?” said Thor, expectantly.
Peter glared some more and then huffed. “What’s your plan?”
*
It was a simple plan really: call Thor's half-mad brother Loki. So, forgive him if he wasn't exactly pleased with the plan.
“I can't believe after all that he put you through, you still trust that little shit.”
Thor got a fond smile on his face that made Peter extremely irritated. “Well, he is my brother. I know him like I know myself.”
“Uh-uh,” said Peter, dramatically rolling his eyes. Who cared if the brothers were close? Not him. “Why can't you just open up that rainbow of yours and swish your megalomaniac brother here, so we can get my crew and get on with our lives?”
“Rainbow?” said Thor, quizzically, “Oh! Bifrost! Bifrost only connects the nine realms. Achernon is a very remote colony that the Allfathers before me did not think fit to conquer. Which makes me wonder, what brought you so far from home?”
Peter frowned. He had forgotten all about the reason they had arrived at Achernon in the first place. “We received a distress call, “ he said,
“From a Gorgei vessel. Now that I think about it, it could have been any of those thousands that got trapped in the planet before us. Not much of a Guardian are we? Went to rescue and needed rescuing ourselves?”
Thor gave him a long look, but Peter was surprised to note that there was a hint of admiration in them. Thor then turned away looking pensive. “It is rather strange,” he murmured.
“What is?”
“You cannot receive signals through the Acheronian skies,” said Thor, “It is what protects the wretched system they have.”
“But you found us,” said Peter, turning to look at Thor, confused. “You must have picked up our signal.”
“That is different,” said Thor, stiffening, as if the question physically pained him.
“How is it different?”, asked Peter, suspicious.
Before Thor could answer him though, the vessel which was mid-jump rattled terribly. Peter held on to his chair, but it helped very little. He was going to fall off his chair when all of a sudden the shaking stopped with a thud.
“Well, well, well,” came a familiar voice from him, “Look who we have here. My brother’s little pet.”
Peter scowled and flipped him the bird, without turning.
“Loki!” said Thor, beaming and getting of his chair to greet his brother. “I was worried we had to travel all the way to Asgard to get you.”
“I got your message. Didn’t feel like waiting,” said Loki. He sauntered to were Peter sat looking at the whizzing stars. “So how does it feel to be owned by Thor?” said he, smirking down at him.
Peter felt his temperature rise, but Thor got between them hastily, fumbled and tried to push Loki away from Peter. “Enough with your jests, Loki.” Peter noticed Thor’s neck turning an interesting shade of red. “The Guardians need your help.”
“Pray tell me, brother, how do I benefit from this cause?”
“How does not beating up your evil ass and throwing you in eternal prison sound?” said Peter.
“He speaks ,” exclaimed Loki, leering. “And he speaks for you, dear brother!”
“He doesn’t,” said Thor giving Peter a nervous look. Peter couldn’t blame him. He probably looked like a ticking bomb. “You shall have access to treasure chamber for a night, as you had requested.”
“That is hardly a good bargain,” said Loki snidely, folding his hands.
“Loki,” sighed Thor, “You know very well that after the last stunt you pulled- ”
“Oh, enough with your whining,” said Loki, cutting off Thor, “I will do it. I cannot expect your tiny little brains to come up with a plan that does not get everybody killed or severely dismembered.”
“I need my blasters, Thor,” said Peter, turning around and giving Loki a nasty look, “My fingers are itching to drive holes into this douchebag.”
Loki raised an eyebrow but otherwise chose to ignore him. He flourished his hands and drew up a map of the dungeons with what looked like green lights. Thor gave Peter an apologetic smile and turned his chair around and settled into it. Peter, although, not entirely happy with the way things were turning out, didn’t have much of a choice.
Curiosity got the best of him as he watched Loki zoom into the lights like one would do with an aerial scanner. Peter realized with a little awe that Loki was getting a live feed of the Achernonian dungeons. The projection showed the tiny form of Rocket, who was sound asleep, then zipped past darkness to pause at a picture of Drax draped in a flowy shawl, and finally, Peter got a glimpse of Gamora. He stood up without realizing to get a closer look.
Loki saw him approaching “Well if it isn’t the princess who has stolen your heart.” Peter ignored him. Thor behind him cleared his throat loudly. Peter ignored him, too. Gamora was awake and attentive. That was good. She also looked pissed - which was understandable. Thankfully, she showed no visible sign of distress other than that, and Peter sighed in relief. Across from Gamora, sat Mantis cross-legged and seemingly in a trance.
“What about Groot?” said Peter, “Can you find him?”
“Hmm,” said Loki, frowning in concentration, scrolling and zooming with quick snaps of his lithe fingers. “Strange. I can’t seem to find him. This is not possible. Give me a minute.”
“Achernon was once under the Jotunheim’s reign,” said Thor, helpfully, while Loki searched “Though the Achernonians do not acknowledge Jotunheim’s claim over them anymore, they are still under their thrall in ways that their simple minds cannot understand.”
“Of course they are,” said Peter, “and of course, your brother would be the lord of every scumbag civilization in this world.”
“Can’t deny the truth of it,” said Loki, smiling tightly, “which is why Earth would have been an apt conquest to my collection. In any case, your tree is not on that planet.”
Peter scoffed, “You mean your magic is not good enough to find him.”
“No,” said Loki, frowning, “I mean precisely what I said. He is not on that planet.”
*
“So let me get this right,” said Peter, hands on hips, “Our wizard here is going to dress us up like Achernonian guards, we sneak in, use magic to unlock the cells and sneak out. This is your plan?”
“You have a better plan?” said Loki, one eyebrow cocked.
“How about this, why don’t you just pay them off with more coins?” said Peter, sardonically. “Thunderboy here didn’t have too much trouble buying me off their hands.”
Thor looked sheepish but didn’t answer. His brother helped him out by saying, “The act of buying or owning slaves is a punishable offense under the Asgardian laws. Not to mention, dishonorable. “
Peter whistled looking between an embarrassed Thor and a snickering Loki. “So you just couldn’t help yourself from buying me, huh?”, he said sarcastically, directing his ire at Thor.
Again, Thor gave no reply. His ears turned red and he looked everywhere but at Peter. It got a little awkward. “Well, I hope your punishment stings well then,” said Peter, hiding his own sudden embarrassment. There was something about the God which bothered him a lot, but he couldn’t put a finger on what it was.
“Oh, it will,” said Loki, grinning from ear to ear.
*
Because they couldn’t land their ship on Achernon soil without being recognized, Loki used his magic to get himself to the city, while Peter was forced to hitch a ride with the other God. Loki had already zipped away when Thor approached him hesitantly. Peter hated this part of the plan, but he didn’t have a choice.
Thor looked pretty unsure when he tried to put a hand around his shoulder. He stopped midway, floundered, gave Peter an awkward apologetic smile, then slowly, almost as if he was afraid to do so, encircled his waist. Peter felt the skin were Thor’s hand rested on the small of his back burn like hot coals were pressed against it. Blood rushed to his face, as Peter looked up at Thor. Under his palm, he felt Thor’s heartbeat escalate to a mad rush.
“Put your - put your hand around my neck,” said Thor, his voice thicker than usual. Peter glared at him because doing anything else would be inappropriate at that point. He tried to ignore his own loud heart and the scent of acorns and pinewood and rain that overwhelmed his senses. “Like so,” said Thor, grabbing Peter’s hand, and carefully guiding it over his shoulder. Up close then, Peter could see a storm brewing in those deep blue eyes that were looking down at him.
There was definitely electricity coursing through Peter. He could see little sparks from the corner of his eyes. But before he could dwell on it too much, Thor spun his hammer and whisked them away.
*
Sneaking inside to find Rocket and breaking away into the cell was the easy part. Getting him to wake up without clueing in on the guards was proving to be difficult.
“I can’t believe this,” hissed Peter, “He is like the Sleeping Ugly!”
“That he might be,” Loki said amused, “But Achernon's air might have something to do with his odd behavior, too.”
“The rabbit goes with me,” proclaimed Thor. He picked up Rocket with seemingly no effort and threw him over his shoulders like he were a rucksack. Ouch, thought Peter, Rocket was going to hurt in several places when he woke up.
The party headed to find Gamora’s cell. They met with no incidence. Achernonian guards carrying a lifeless form of a raccoon was not an unusual sight in these parts, apparently. They would have wasted a lot of time searching for Gamora and Mantis, but fortunately, Loki remembered the path in the maze-like arrangement of the prison.
They found Gamora in the same attentive position as they had seen in Loki’s projection. Peter noted that she looked more dehydrated in person, but otherwise seemed to be okay. He sighed. Loki unlocked the door. Gamora jumped to her feet and crossed her arms in an offensive stance. Mantis mimicked her.
“It's me guys,” said Peter, urgently. “Peter.”
Gamora’s hands were still held up, when she barked, “What was the last song we listened together?”
Peter felt Thor move behind him. He could feel it only because Thor made a show of it by moving closer and breathing against his neck. It made Peter conscious for reasons he could not understand. He thanked the Gods they were in their purple suits.
“Don’t bring me down, by ELO, 1979,” said Peter, easily.
Gamora strode forward to pull him into a hug, which was a little awkward because she rested her head on his elongated pelvic bone. Thor cleared his throat loudly and Loki snickered. Mantis looked confused.
“Are they our friends?” said Mantis, pointing at Thor and Loki.
Peter nodded his head. “Thor and Loki,” he said.
“Hi Thor!” said Mantis, happily and then, a little unsurely, “Hi Loki?”
Loki ignored her and made quick work, transforming Gamora and Mantis into pink pixies. The Achernonian men were all purple, and the ladies - the pink, fluttery beings Peter had seen earlier. The creator of this world was a sexist clusterfuck.
They decided to split after that. Gamora and Mantis went to find Drax. Loki went to retrieve Milano. Although Peter was not very happy with the thought of that evil bastard getting his hands on his beloved ship, he had no choice. His main priority was to find Groot.
He had been pushing off any thoughts of Groot so far and concentrating on the parts of the plan he had control over. But now that that part was over, the thought of his little friend being in danger seeped through his mind unbidden and it made his stomach churn. He fought it hard to stop his imagination from running wild. He couldn't live with himself if he lost Groot.
Thor stopped Peter in his tracks, with one spiked hand on his shoulder. “Loki sees all here, Starlord,” he said. It was strange to reconcile in Peter’s mind that this ugly creature was actually Thor. The look of earnestness in the demonic face looked unnerving. “Groot can't be on this planet if Loki didn't see him. We are wasting our time.”
“So what do you suggest,” snapped Peter, poking a finger at the purple creature before him, “I leave my friend to die here?”
“No,” said Thor, squeezing his shoulder, “I’m saying we are on the wrong planet.”
“What do you mean?” said Peter, confused.
“When when was the last time you saw your friend?” asked Thor.
Peter froze. When had he seen him last? Groot had been busy playing in the back with the PS5 that Stark had given him for his last birthday. Milano had been shot down, and unable to control the fall, the crew had decided to abandon ship. Peter had put on his mask and had breached the atmosphere with his trusty boots on. His blasters and grenades were out, but they had been severely outnumbered by the purple-skinned monsters, so they had to eventually surrender. It only then dawned on Peter that he had assumed that Groot would have taken one of the two escape pods they had with the rest of the crew.
Thor was still waiting for an answer. “I don't know of if he got on the planet,” admitted Peter, panic rising. “I don't know if he crashed along with Milano or landed with the pod or jumped. I'm such a shitty captain. I was too busy racing down for a fight that I just assumed Groot got out with us. I can't believe I let him out of my sight and -”
“Peter Quill,” said Thor, breaking through Peter's thoughts, “You are not a shitty captain, and I know where Groot is.”
Thor extended his arm outward to Peter, and his disguise fell away, and once again, he was the mighty God of Thunder. Peter felt his purple skin turn white and his vantage dropped along with his height. It was impossible for Peter to put his hand on Thor’s shoulder with Rocket slung over his back. So it fell on Thor to balance them, with Peters hands uselessly pressed against his steel like chest. Thor hauled them up like it was the easiest thing he had ever done.
*
Thor transported them to a green land. Green not because of vegetation, but because of rock formations that glowed an eerie green. Up in the sky, Peter noticed a giant yellow planet looming. They were had a landed on a neighboring planet, or perhaps a moon.
Thor deposited Rocket on one of the boulders and straightened up. “This is Mkweet,” he said, giving Peter a small smile “The smallest moon that orbits Achernon.”
“Do I need an air mask?” said Peter. He couldn’t find any hardship breathing, but one could never be sure. Some toxic gases snuck up on you so fast, you would die before you even realized something was wrong.
“No,” said Thor. They were standing at the tip of a steep ledge. Beneath them lay a vast plain full of rocks and shallow ponds of pale green liquid. “Mkweet skies have a strong resemblance to Asgardian and Midgardian skies. Now that we are out of Achernon the rabbit should be awake soon.”
“Oh, dandy,” said Peter, scowling, “The last thing I need right now is to be stuck here explaining things to him. Can we just knock him out again? It would be a lot easier to deal with that furry rucksack that way.”
“I really hope for your ball’s sake that you are not talking about me,” came the drawling voice of Rocket from behind.
“Rabbit, my friend!” said Thor, cheerfully. He slapped Rocket’s back as a greeting, making him lurch violently, “We were just about to go an adventure!”
“Stop that, blondie,” said Rocket, springing away from Thor’s reach, “Where did you come from? Wait, where are we? How did we get here?” Rocket spun around, taking in his surroundings, “Where is my blaster?”
“Hey you blabbering baboon,” said Peter, “We are here to find Groot, and that’s all that matters right now.”
Rocket’s ears perked up. “What do you men find Groot? You lost him? he screeched.
“Well if you hadn’t been cozying up on the prison floor, we wouldn’t have lost him.”
“That’s bullshit! You were supposed to-”
“Enough!” said Thor, his voice commanding. Peter felt a shiver run down his spine, which he promptly ignored, “We have to find Groot before the Achernons find their prison cells empty.”
“Fricking hell,” grumbled Rocket, “Stuck between the God of steroids and a man-child.”
As they trudged down a path to the plains below, Thor asked Peter in a low voice, “Who are ‘Steroids’?”
*
The pod was buried in a fifty feet wide crater. Peter felt his heart lighten considerably when Thor pointed it out to him. Thor glanced down at him and offered his hand to him, wordlessly. Peter shook his head, glaring at the God. He ran, instead. Thor picked up Rocket without so much as a glance at the little fellow and fell in sync with Peter. It must have been difficult, keeping his pace slow to match Peter’s. But if it took effort, Thor didn’t show it. They reached the spot with Rocket swearing promises of castration.
The pod had taken considerable damage. The door was broken from outside. Groot was nowhere to be seen. Peter swallowed hard, a sick feeling taking over him.
“Look here!” said Rocket sharply, pointing at the ground. There was a small dry leaf stuck to the damp green rock and there was a similar one five feet away.
And so they followed the trail and found themselves at the precipice of a dark pool, which hid its depth very well. From their earlier contact with the fluid, Peter knew that it was harmless to human skin. But looking at the surface of the pool, and seeing no ripples coming from it, Peter's heart sank again.
“Do you think he was dragged out?” offered Rocket, adding no comfort to Peter's thoughts. “What if some crazy predator thought he was a good meal and ate him? This is all your fault, you useless piece of -”
“Rabbit,” said Thor, warningly.
“Oh stop it already! What are you, his boyfriend? Why are jumping to his defense! I lost my best friend because of him, your high and mightiness, so cut me some slack, here!”
“He is not responsible for the Tree’s demise,” said Thor, plainly.
“What do you mean he’s not responsible, of course he is!”
“Look,” said Thor, and Rocket and Peter looked. A shrill sound filled the air when a huge flying beast broke the surface of the water and soared into the sky. It had a humanoid looking face, with a beak instead of a nose, but that is where its similarities to humans ended. Huge orange feathers, wings that spread seven feet on either side, a beak that looked like a polished weapon in itself and legs that were adorned with sharp talons. A single beat of its wings took it twenty feet high.
“What is it, what is it?” screamed Rocket, hiding behind Thor’s leg.
“That my dear friend,” said Thor grinning from ear to ear, “is a Gorgon. He is a male, see the curled horns on his head? Don’t worry. They are gentle people.”
“Gentle? People? That’s neither gentle nor a people! That’s the creature that ate Groot!”
The beast made a sharp dive and accelerated in their direction.
“No,” said Peter, noticing the small brown ridge settled on the reddish-orange neck of the Gorgun. The nearer it came, the surer Peter became. “GROOT! Thank God! You are in so much trouble, young man!”
Groot waved back in earnest, and it looked like he was laughing. “I AM GROOOOT!!!”.
The Gorgon landed with a resounding thud beside the lake. Water went flying high and drenched Peter and Rocket completely. The bird-like beast helped Groot down and stood on its legs to great the party.
You are the Guardians. Peter heard a voice in his ear, but it did not feel like it was coming from the Gorgon. Rather it felt like his own mind had produced the sound. Gorgons were telepathic. Thank you, brave creatures, with no wings. I was afraid I had had the last of my flights. This land bound creature, who calls himself Groot told me of your arrival to save me from certain peril. I thank your kind chests from the bottom of my feathers .
Yeah, that didn't sound right, thought Peter. He slammed his translator implant just to be sure. Groot came running to him and held him in a hug. He was almost as tall as he was. “I am Groot,” he said.
“No Groot, apology not accepted.”
“I am Groot!”
“Of course, it’s your fault we got separated. You should have stuck to my side. Or Rocket’s. You do not run off on your own. You hear me. You do not.”
Thor placed a hand on Peter’s arm. Peter gave him a nettled look but looked up to where Thor was pointing. They all looked up. The Milano was heading towards them. But it was heading a little faster than it should if it meant to land and pick them up. Soon enough, they understood why.
Milano was being chased by a dozen Achernonian ships.
Quick creatures, said the bird-beast, climb on to my back. We have to defend ourselves from these nasty being.
While Peter would have thought twice about climbing onto a giant bird with no helmet, no harness and no way of controlling it. But he was much relieved by its offer for a ride. Better the Gorgon, than Thor.
Thor cast the Gorgon a thinly hidden glare, which amused Peter for some reason. Grabbing on to the bird’s feathers, which were much firmer than they looked, Peter hauled himself. Groot sat right behind him. Rocket who chose life over dignity climbed Thor’s back.
*
Adrenaline pumped through Peter’s veins as he fired a round with his trusty rifle cannon. The speakers were blasting Come and Get Your Love, ironically. Gamora laughed merrily beside him, taking down a bunch of Achernonians ships at a time. It was good to be back on the captain seat with all his crew safe on board. Well most of the crew, anyway.
When the Goron beast dropped Peter off on Milano , they realized that they couldn’t fit the beast inside her. So Goron had to get on board the Asgardian vessel trailing behind them. Groot stubbornly refused to part with his new friend, clung to the bird and disappeared with him. Rocket was already stuck with Thor.
More Achernonians ships cropped up when they shot down one and full out annihilation was not the plan, what with the peace treaty and all, so they retracted.
Gamora set the course to Asgard, and Peter hit the thrusters to make the jump.