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They were screwed. They were so screwed.
That was honestly all Peter could think, as he was dragged along by his elbow, his hands cuffed in front of him. The alien that dragged him; some silvery skeletal creature--that Steve and Clint recognized, at least, by the pinched expression on their faces--barely noticed when he staggered and kept hauling him along. He wasn't exactly certain where they were going, but he could take a wild guess. He assumed Thanos must've had multiple throne rooms, and they were being dragged into an indoor one.
So, now off to face one of the most feared beings in the galaxy--who just so happened to be one of his best friend's abusive father--with a team of eight other superheroes.
They were so, so screwed.
There was a wide hall leading to the throne room, and there were a myriad of servants who walked as far away as possible with their heads down. Peter sneaked as good a glance as he could get at Gamora, who was very pale, and if not shaking, then at least not steady on her feet.
Then they passed through an arch into the throne room, and Peter swore internally rather profusely. Of course, Nebula was here. Of course.
"I see that Nebula's information was correct," Thanos boomed, and Peter cringed at how sinister his tone was. He didn't envy Gamora her childhood. "A better job than I expected from her."
That made Nebula steam, Peter could see it. But Thanos, either oblivious or uncaring, pressed on. "I would welcome you all here, but I am afraid it would be for naught. There is only one of you whom I am truly interested in."
Peter swallowed hard.
"Gamora, child," and Peter blinked. Thanos' tone had switched to a lighter, almost gentle tone. Peter didn't buy it for a minute, and he could tell that the others didn't, either, but it was still rather slick of the old titan.
"You have been away from the family too long, and we are all too eager to welcome you back."
Ahh. Now there was the sinister they all knew and didn't love.
"Well, Father," Gamora said, and Peter was surprised by her tone, as well. He had never heard her so timid and small in almost their whole friendship. "It has been a most long time. If...if I were to come back to the," Peter saw a visible tremor, "enhancements without struggle...will you let them go?"
He jerked his head around to stare at her in dismay, and could see his teammates--and the Avengers--doing the same. She couldn't!
And she wouldn't. They wouldn't let her.
A chuckle from Thanos. Peter shrank back and suppressed a shudder. "I am afraid your chosen group of friends has become far too dangerous, child," he practically spat. "You are coming back." He nodded non-chalantly to the rest of them. "Kill the others."
Their alien escorts seized their arms and began to attempt to drag them out of the room. They weren't having much luck--Peter and the rest were fighting them every step. In the midst of struggling against the alien, Peter saw Thanos step down from his throne--and Peter shook just seeing him standing--and stepped in front of Gamora, who now stood alone before him. He stooped down, reaching a hand to her hair. "It is beyond time to welcome you back into our loving embrace..."
And Thanos gasped.
Peter could only stare as Gamora slashed up the length of his arm with a hidden dagger and dislodged him with a mighty kick to his calf. He staggered backwards, from surprise as much as anything, and fell to the floor, seemingly paralyzed as Gamora started screaming at him.
"You are not, and never will be my father," Peter could hear tears through her screams, raw and hurt. "Family doesn't hurt as you do, manipulate and use people they claim to favor or love. I will not let you hurt my family, and I will never be enslaved by you again!"
It took Peter a moment to realize that when she said 'family,' she was talking about them.
And then he heard a loud crack as Thanos backhanded her.
She slid across the floor and skidded before she rolled, scrambling backwards on the floor as he stalked towards her.
"Insolent whelp," he thundered. "Ungrateful bitch."
She was on her feet now, and backing away as fast as she could. It didn't matter. Thanos was in front of her, and just getting closer. "You think you know pain, harpy," he hissed. There was a crackle of energy, and Peter saw, from at least a hundred feet away, as he formed something with a twist of his wrist.
And all of them heard the ring of steel and the shudder of impact.
And saw it sticking out of Gamora's back.
Silence. Peter felt as if he'd just been run through. Gamora was standing, rigid, gazing up at Thanos. Thanos just looked satisfied.
Then a shriek registered in Peter's ears, and Thanos was blown back again. "You, you murderous, power-hungry bastard!" Nebula shrieked. She fired at him again.
Peter faintly heard a roar of rage from Drax, the snap of an alien's neck, an explosive that Rocket no doubt pulled from somewhere, and more sounds of battle as he broke the chain link between the cuffs while moving.
And then he heard nothing as he dropped gracelessly beside her, sliding a bit in the pool of blood that was forming beneath her.
Really, it almost looked like something out of a novel; one of her arms tossed out to the side, her hair fanned out beneath her head, the blade still stuck between her ribs. He wasn't sure how he wound up cradling her head in his hands. Her eyes were wide and young in her shock. Her gaze snapped to him in a panic. She gurgled something--blood came up. "Shhhh, shhh," he heard himself, trying to stem his nerves and be gentle as he felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his ribs. "Don't talk, okay, don't. Please."
He scanned her body desperately, trying to figure out something he could do. Her entire body was tensed and she was spasming slightly. The blade had been pushed back when she hit the floor, and now several inches of the knife, covered in black blood, stuck out from between her ribs.
He felt her soaked fingertips brushing the hand he had placed very lightly on her chest, and grasped her hand, forcing himself to be gentle, even if he wanted to grip it tightly, to make her hold on.
"Daddy?" Her voice was a high, pained whimper, and Peter cringed, noting that her eyes were glazed. He shook his head, even though he doubted she could see him. He would have called her breaths hissing, but that sounded too sinister. As it was, her chest jerked as it tried to rise and fall, even though there was probably little air to be had. He didn't know if she had some sort of system to drain fluid in her lungs. He doubted Thanos would have stabbed her there if he'd known she would survive it.
Her hand moved up slightly to wrap around his wrist. He saw water glistening on her skin, and realized he was crying. "Peter," she whispered, and, silly as it was, he felt minimally relieved.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me."
There was a skidding noise similar to his own, and then Natasha was beside them, pressing gentle fingers to Gamora's wrist. She flinched. "Not good," Natasha murmured.
"Yeah." Peter said flatly.
"I'll get Bruce," she said, and ran off. Peter realized that the mild doctor had turned into the Hulk earlier. He knew Natasha had a rough history with the Hulk. It was good of her to try.
He realized that Gamora hadn't spoken in a while. She was suffering wordlessly, but certainly not silently. She was making a terrible, breathless little noise, and coughing with an awful whimper as more blood welled in her throat. He cradled her head again to hold it up slightly. It seemed to help a bit.
Bruce and Nat wound up beside them again, and Bruce leaned over her, doing a quick exam with his eyes and gentle fingers. "Is there anything...?" Peter started.
Bruce sighed. "I honestly don't know. For humans, this sort of thing would be almost exclusively fatal. But...a human would have been dead already."
Peter found that he was stroking through Gamora's hair as he held her head, and glanced up to see that the room looked as though a black hole had hit it...and maybe it had. The rest of both teams stood over them. "Thanos?" He asked unnecessarily.
"Gone." Steve said.
Gamora's breathing hitched, and Peter glanced down in concern. She had gone mostly still, and her breath was barely a sigh.
"I can help."
Steve and the others did a double take at the subdued voice. Nebula stood, battered and bruised. "If I can get one of the machines they did tune-ups with. It's an assist to our systems to heal."
"And why the hell should we trust you," Rocket snarled, and Peter saw that he was crying, too.
"Rocket," Peter said, and his teammate turned his watery glare on him. Somehow, it still managed to be effective. "How exactly could she make it worse?"
"That's a bad question to ask me." Rocket said. Still, as he gazed at Gamora's shuddering chest and fading breaths, he said nothing more.
"You have no reason to trust me, rodent," and she doesn't know why Rocket is crying harder. "But healing through the machine is actually pleasant." She turned away. "One of the few things that was peaceful."
Steve glanced at Bucky, and they headed off with her.
"We'd best get back to the ship. It'll be easier to do this there," Bruce said, standing.
"What about the knife?" Peter asked.
"Leave it. It's holding blood back. Plus, if there's something else messed up with it, we'll be able to deal with it better back there."
Peter nodded. He shifted his hand beneath Gamora's head, tucked an arm beneath her knees and lifted her. Natasha stabilized the blade, and they carefully made their way from the ruined throne room.
***
That night, their ship drifted silently through space. Everyone was subdued and quiet, and probably just plain tired.
On the whole, Peter supposed others would have called it a successful enterprise. It certainly didn't feel like a success, even though the machine Nebula had retrieved seemed to be working, and Gamora was in a coma but mending. But that whole mess, and Peter would admit it, had really scared him. And the others, too.
Plus, there was the small matter of Nebula.
Of course, she had come on board the ship; she was the only one who knew how to set the machine up and make it work. Given time, Tony or Bruce probably could've figured it out, but Gamora had stopped breathing only a little while before, and very nearly didn't start again. But since then, no one had kicked her off, or even asked her to leave. It was obvious that Rocket wanted to--after all, she'd been the one who'd disclosed their location to Thanos. But there was no denying that without her, Gamora would be dead.
And besides, the unmistakable 'I'm-an-abused-misled-broken-being' vibes she was giving off were all too familiar to some of the group.
Still, Peter was staying in the room. No more chances taken.
There was a hiss as the door opened. Peter glanced over to see Nebula gazing at him as he held Gamora's hand, her expression beaten.
"May I come in for a while?" Even her tone was subdued.
"You might as well." Peter said. He was surprised at how tired he sounded.
Nebula stepped into the room hesitantly. The door closed behind her. Eventually, she dropped into a chair beside him. She gazed at her sister's face for a long while. Peter would've looked elsewhere--this felt private--but since he was still watching he just waited.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Peter glanced up. "What?"
"I never meant for him to stab her." She glanced down at her folded hands.
"What did you think he was going to do, then?" Peter couldn't help asking.
She shrugged. "I expected punishment, of course. Maybe a beating or something. I don't know."
They were quiet for a bit. Eventually, Nebula spoke again. "I'm not staying. It wouldn't work."
Peter nodded. "Where will you go?"
"I don't know. Maybe I'll just wander for a bit like she did. I'm free of Thanos, finally, after all these years...but I don't know what I want."
Gamora tossed her head slightly. Her lashed fluttered. "Sis?" she whispered.
Nebula leaned a bit closer and took her hand. "Yeah. I'm here. But I'm going soon."
"...have to?" Gamora asked.
"Yeah, I have to. But I'll be back. I'll see you again sometime." She rubbed her sister's knuckles with her thumb.
"...careful."
"Of course I will be. If you do the same."
"Mmm." Gamora sighed, and seemed to drift off again. Nebula set her hand back in Peter's.
"My sister truly deserves your group, Peter Quill," she said as she stood.
"I can't tell whether I've just been insulted or complemented." Peter said.
"It was both." Nebula said, and somehow Peter didn't feel offended. "Take care of them."
"I will."
Nebula nodded. She turned and the door hissed closed behind her.
Peter turned and gazed out into the passing stars.
***
It was two more days before Gamora woke, not quite completely healed, but certainly much better than she had been. "Peter?" she whispered hoarsely, and he woke from a doze.
"Yeah, I'm here." He poured out some water into a cup and helped her sit up carefully to drink it.
"Thanks," she sighed, lying back down when she'd finished.
"And...thank you for earlier, as well. I...I was afraid."
"Can't imagine why," Peter said sarcastically, and Gamora smiled slightly. "Still. I appreciate it. Very much." She sighed. "At least I will not have to live in fear of him finding me anymore."
"Yeah. Next time, though, let's try a bit more subtlety."
The edges of her lips curled upwards. "Yes, perhaps that is a good idea."
Peter could hear the excited 'I am Groot' even from in the room, and he rolled his eyes as he moved to make room for the tree to give Gamora an enthusiastic, but gentle hug. The others were right behind him, and the room was full and noisy in no time. For the first time since this whole mess had started, Peter relaxed. They had all made it out okay. That was what mattered. And eventually, everything would be back to normal. So long as he had all his friends, they'd all be okay.