Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darkness like a cloak, the bitter cold a sharpened knife plunging into his chest. All Peter could understand, could comprehend was his flesh freezing, blood starting to solidify in his veins. The cold of space had him within its clutches, an inescapable, vast grasp. His vision was a haze, spinning stars fading out of existence.

Like a flickering flame Peter’s life felt like it was about to go out, snuffed in one fell swoop, taken by the never-ending advance of space.

Conceding seemed the only option. Fighting futile.

Consciousness left him soon after, white gleaming spinning stars turned into black as the world vanished from existence.

***

Rocket was slung into the deadly expanse of space along with his friends. Mask forming round his muzzle as his fingers grasped for a device on his belt. Even with his fur, the freezing temperatures of space threatened his life, penetrating his flesh and bones.

He spun unwillingly in the hold of the universe, silence deafening.

Rocket clutched the small device, fingers finding the right button producing a flashing red light.

The small light blinked periodically, blinking out into space, a minuscule light compared to that of which the universe holds.

The lights of the Milano soon sauntered into view; the beacon having been successful in summoning the faithful ship. Just as his limbs began to stiffen, ice forming on his lashes and the tips of his fur, the ship hatch opened, the momentum of their tumble from their enemy’s ship propelling them forward.

Sacrosanct, travelling temple of the universal church, the ship they were forced from, watched their departure with bated breath.

Floating waistless in the cargo bay of the Milano the hatch doors slipped closed. Gravity was enforced, taking hold of the surroundings claiming the space back from the lawless universe.  Rocket met the ground face first, chest crashing down hard forcing a grunt as he caught his breath.

The mask retracted, the beacon he had used to summon the Milano skittering across the floor having been dropped on such a forceful landing.

“Urh…” Rocket got his arms under him, head hanging down before he shoved it up upon his shoulders. “Anyone dead?” Rocket casually asked, a joke made to comfort his own insecurities.

“I still draw breath.” Drax was getting to his feet beside him, the sound of rustling branches on the other.

“I am Groot?”

“I’m fine buddy.” Rocket looked over to his companion, the floral giant getting his long limbs under himself, big brown eyes watching him with concern.

“Quill?” He heard Drax ask, bringing his attention back to the other side of the cargo bay.

Drax was kneel beside Peter, the Terran was laid on his side, helmet still formed around his face, red glow of the eyes staring back at him.

“Isn’t a time for laying around Quill!” Rocket got to his feet brushing off the remaining ice clinging to his form.

The human remained unresponsive, unmoving on his side, ice still on his skin and clothes. Moisture frozen on contact with the frigid atmosphere.

“Peter Quill, are you with us?” Drax laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder, dark red jacket meeting the Destroyers hand.

“I am Groot.”

There was a twang of fear in Rockets gut, Groot’s concerned words triggering an unwanted realisation.

“Flark.” Rocket dropped down beside Peter’s head, reaching round to his earpiece, triggering the helmet to retract unveiling the humans face. “Groot get us out of here!” He looked up, Groot looking back between him and the closed cargo door, the useless passport Cosmo had given them still swinging around the wooden giant’s neck.

“I am Groot?”

“What about Gamora?” Rocket questioned back. “She made a choice.”

Rocket recalled the daughter of Thanos rushing off after the madman Raker. She left them behind. That’s how Rocket was choosing to see it anyway, to save his conscience or perhaps try and convince himself that he didn’t care.

“Though I do not trust her. I believe if able, Peter Quill would disagree with this plan of action.” Drax still kneeled by their unmoving leader. The mask now retracted, his face still as ice, eyes closed, skin pale.

“If we go back there, we’re dead. D-E-A-D. Dead!”

The hatch to the cargo bay suddenly began to open, air getting sucked from the room, the force wanting to wrench them back into space. Groot grabbed a hold of Rocket, his feet immediately leaving the floor. Drax lay over Peter, one dagger plunged into the floor of the ship as leverage to stay grounded. As quickly as the bay door opened it snapped closed, the void of space no longer trying to draw them from safety.

Rocket was reintroduced with the floor, Groot’s hand retracting slowly, not meaning to let his little friend fall in such a way.

“What in the Flarkin’ hell!” Rocket got up for the second time, bushy tail swishing angrily behind him as he turned towards the back of the ship.

Their green friend dropped a severed golden arm, metal substance clanking against the ground as metal met metal. Gamora stood breathing heavy, mask having just retracted from her mouth and nose.

“Where have you been?!” Rocket accidently showed his concern, a sense of relief washing over him all the same.

The scraping of Drax drawing his dagger from the floor attracted everyone’s attention.

“Peter Quill you must wake.” Drax still lightly rocked Peter’s shoulder, gaining nothing from the man.

“Peter?” Gamora rushed over, finding his side, two fingers wrested on the human’s neck. “What happened?” She questioned the others, head swivelling in the direction of each of them, finding their eyeline in an instant.

“What do you think happened smart ass? We got shot out into space by the loony goons over there!” Rocket pointed in the direction of the Sacrosanct out of view behind the bay doors, the enormous vessel making the Milano nothing more than a spec by comparison.

“Peter, can you hear me?” One of Gamora’s hands held the man’s face, the other still feeling for a pulse on his neck. Her hands felt the rough stubble of his beard, but beneath that was ice, skin cold to the touch. “Help me get him up!”

Gamora grasped Peter’s arm, but Drax took the lead lifting the human effortlessly by himself. Rocket stared for a moment as Drax cradled the limp Terran in his arms, head hanging back without complaint.

“No…” Rocket mumbled to himself in disbelief. All the joking and misdirecting not saving him from the cold hard truth now.

Drax laid Peter down on the settee, hands careful with his head, a delicacy not one would come to expect from someone known as the Destroyer.

“I can barely get a pulse and he’s freezing.” Gamora informed the others urgently, she gathered up a blanket that had been discarded to the floor. The settee seating encompassed a U shape, a low table in the middle. She draped the grey blanket over him, Rocket staring from the cargo bay doorway into the living space.

The ship shook violently, something blasting them from behind.

“I am Groot!” The tree called from the helm of the ship.

“Groot’s right, we need to leave.” Rocket snapped out of his trance, meeting Groot at the controls.

Hoping into the driver’s seat was strangely foreboding, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as the ship was thrusted into lightspeed.

The silence of space and the lack of impending doom behind them gave Rocket at least just a moment to himself, to think. Though this moment was brief with Gamora’s concerned calls.

“How long were you out there?” She asked as Rocket jumped down from Peter’s chair. She stood from the man’s side, Groot and Rocket leaving the cockpit as Drax, hands resting on his belt, looked down at Quill from the other side of the settee.

“A few minutes…” Rocket shrugged unsure exactly himself.

“Quill does not seem to be faring well.” Drax stated the obvious.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed!” Rocket snapped at his brutish friend.

“Maybe you should practice being more preceptive then, it is a useful skill one should master.” As usual the sarcasm went straight over Drax’s head.

“I am Groot.” The colossus tilted his head at Quill, looking to the others after.

“Well obviously, he’s a flarkin’ squishy Humie. Why’d you think you don’t see these Terran’s running all over space.” Rocket tossed his hands in the air, his frustration spewing from the concern he refused to acknowledge he was feeling.

“Groot the passport?” Gamora looked to the gentle giant.

Groot shook his head taking hold of the small device around his neck, he pressed the button over and over, the blue screen flashing red each time.

“I am Groot.”  He looked sadly down at his twiggy fingers.

“So much for that idea. Groot says the things toast.” Rocket huffed, shaking his head as he weighed up their limited options.

“Drax, watch Quill.” Gamora ordered, heading for the cockpit.

“Do not worry, my eyes are already on him.” Drax didn’t look to her in his reply, stare trained on the unconscious man.

“Where are you going?” Rocket followed the deadliest woman, she worked at multiple consoles before seating herself at Peter’s.

“Contacting the mut.” Gamora put simply, eyes flicking over the displays in front of her.

The main screen in front came to life, a broken image of Cosmo flickering in and out as static consumed the corners distorting the picture.

“Guardians – Galaxies.” Cosmo’s thick Russian accent was spliced, a few words only getting through.

“Cosmo? Gamora called out.

“I’ll try strengthen the signal.” Rocket jumped up at his station, small, clawed fingers tapping away.

“Cosmo, the passport isn’t working, Peter is injured we need extraction now!” Gamora attempted to get through to the dog.

“Con-tinuum cortex… shut dow-” The broken message got through, tuning sounds on the other end high pitch and irritating. “Unive - church of tru- arrive at Knowhere.”

 “We’re on our way, get ready for extraction.” Gamora tried to think as Peter would, he appeared to care for the space pooch the last time they encountered him, she could only think he would do the same if he were able.

“Nyet!” The Russian word got through completely. “This pro-blem bigger tha - Cosmo.” At this point neither Rocket nor Gamora could make out anything on the screen, the visual just a blur of golden fur and static. “Guardians of – must go – Xandar and ask W-W-Worldmind for hel-“ The communication was suddenly cut, the screen vanishing, sound of static gone.

“Cosmo?” Rocket called after the dog, working at his console trying to return the connection. The effort produced no results, leaving Rocket sitting back in his chair. He swivelled to face Gamora. “What now?” He asked, without a leader their decisions now fell on all of them.

“If we go to the Worldmind, we can accomplish two tasks at once. We can warn the Worldmind about the Church of Truth and get Peter help.” Gamora seemed confident, though Rocket wasn’t sure if it was a facade.

“I am Groot.” Groot called from within the ship.

“He said, not to mention we can pay that fine.” Rocket eyed the device attached to Peter’s console, the countdown ticking.  “We can’t do much if our engines go out and were floating aimlessly in space.”

There was a moment of thought. Gamora looking down at the console.

“Plotting a course for New Xandar.” Gamora did as she said, setting up the co-ordinates before pulling back on a lever initiating the selection.

Chapter Text

The coldness had become just a staple of existence. At this point Peter, when able to gather anything that could pass as a thought, questioned if this was even existence. Nothing made sense but at the same time he queried what would make sense, what was normality in a world he knew nothing about.

He was floating through what felt like the very essence of time and space, neither existing, nor nothing. For if he was nothing, though few and far between, thoughts and recognition wouldn’t come to him. So, he just floated in the unknown, fleeting thoughts, brain trying to uncover locked away memories.

A very faint light began to glimmer in the dark. Only the faintest glow seemingly galaxies away.  A voice reached his ears somehow, one familiar to him, one that generated a warm feeling while simultaneously making his heart colder.

“Peter.” He couldn’t see Ko-Rel but her voice managed to find him.

He went to speak, to call her name back to her. Peter never heard his voice, he could feel himself trying, desperately trying to speak, eyes focused on the glimmer of light so very far away.

***

Rocket had his goggles down, tinkering with a small explosive he had been working on for a while. Tools were strewn all over the workbench, cut wires and exposed power cells not the safest work environment.

“I am Groot.” Came the low soft voice of his friend, a branched hand finding his shoulder.

Rocket uncovered his eyes, perching his goggles on top of his head.

“Yeah, yeah. My turn for Quill duty, got it.” The tree tried to smile, offering comfort as if Groot knew how Rocket was really feeling.  “Go get some rest.” Rocket assured his tall friend.

With his tall green friend’s departure Rocket looked over to Peter. He laid where they had left him, on the settee unmoving with a couple blankets over him, beloved jacket folded over the back of the seat. There was time till they reached New Xandar, gifting the team time to pass. The rest of the crew appeared to be resting after their hard-fought battle. Rocket was tired too and regretting not getting some shut eye when he wasn’t on babysitting duty.

“Scut.” Rocket swore to himself, a hand running over his muzzle. He let out a deep sigh, eyes resting on Quill.

Peter’s guns lay on the small table beside the settee. The purple energy pulsed within the weapons, cassette player beside them, headphones wrapped neatly, clearly Gamora’s doing. An idea formed in Rocket’s mind, one that brought a smirk to his face.

He jumped from his perch, box of tools being his stepping stool.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Rocket swiped the guns from the table. Immediately in his hands the purple energy faded, as if the guns went dead. Getting them back to the workbench, he pulled his goggles down to give the weapons a once over. He could make out the different components, not that they made much sense, the tech was unusual even for him, not like most of the stuff they come across.

He focused on the readings coming from what Rocket believed to be the power supply, but in fact there were no readings. No power, no sign of power ever having ran through the weapons.

“Just great.” Rocket growled, his examination not going as predicted.

The blasters where surprisingly light, the size more than anything forcing Rocket to use two of his small paws to raise just one. Taking the chance he pointed the blaster towards the floor, two small fingers on the trigger, pulling back nothing happened. “Flarkin’ Spartio tech.” The blaster was thrown back down on the table.

Rocket’s ear twitched.

“Ko-Rel…”

He looked to Peter; the human’s lips barely moved as he weakly mumbled the name.

“Quill?” Rocket jumped back from his workbench, coming up to Peter’s side he watched, waiting for anything to happen.

Nothing happened. Peter didn’t say or move anymore.

“You shouldn’t be messing with these.”

Rocket turned back. Gamora stood looking down at the guns on the table, somehow having moved in complete silence, even foiling Rocket’s sensitive hearing.

“Well, you tell Scut-Lord he can have them back when he decides to wake his ass up.” Rocket moved away from the settee’s switching places with Gamora in unknown unison.

She kneeled at Peter’s side, hand taking one of his wrists from under the blanket.

“Learn anything?” Gamora asked, her apparent curiosity not expected.

“I can only theories. Some form of nano tech alloy that allows the particles to shift and transform into different variations of themselves.”  Gamora nodded along, perhaps pretending to be interested, or simply multitasking. Her hand was around Peter’s wrist, counting the thumping of his pulse. “How is he?” Rocket tried to play off his concern.

Gamora’s eyes flicked to him briefly, his attempted deceit not going unnoticed.

“No change.” She tucked his arm back under the warm covers.

“Is that a good thing?” Rocket leapt onto the back of the settee opposite Peter.

“We were all exposed for the same amount of time, while unpleasant, the rest of us are still standing. We can only assume Quill is the way he is because of what he is.” Gamora explained her thoughts before taking a seat on the floor, back resting on the arm of the settee.

“Squishy Terran.” Rocket added, though not necessary.

The awkward silence rolled in.

Rocket looked round the room nonchalantly looking for something to spark a conversation. His eyes found the severed arm of Raker, tossed on the kitchen counter.

“Some crazy scut happening with these believers, got a few screws loose if you ask me.” Rocket nervously laughed. His mind going back to the visions he saw, a promise that was made, the one he refused. Gamora’s eyes locked on Rocket, eye contact constant even with his efforts to thwart her latch.  “What?” He decided to challenge her.

“What did you see?” Gamora quired bluntly.

“A ton of cult murder bots?” Rocket knew exactly what Gamora was asking but chose to play ignorant.

“Rocket.” Her eyes narrowed, seeing through his efforts to dodge the true question.

“I saw the lie they wanted me to see, what more can I say!” Rocket barked back, Gamora not visually reacting to his defensive stance.

“Yeah...” She looked down at her lap, the hands that rested there, Rocket just able to make out a sigh. Her response signifying to Rocket she experienced something similar.

He went to pry, to delve deeper into her admission but was interrupted.

“Rodent. The space Llama is consuming the ship again.” Drax’s calm voice came from somewhere further in.

“What! Stop the Flarkin’ thing!” Rocket jumped up, now aware of the distant space llama noises. “I swear I will fry this fur ball.” Rocket leapt forward, rushing to prevent the team’s new furry member from bringing down the Milano.

***

The light was brighter now, a warmth coming from the yellow gleam. Every time he blinked, Peter was a little closer, the light a little brighter. He just wanted to be free of the cold seclusion he had been fated too. The light in his eyes a glimpse of hope, of freedom from this foul place, being free was all that mattered in this state. No hunger, No environment, no one else other than himself. There was nothing but the light.

“Peter, you need to stop.” Ko-Rel’s voice returned, tone as sad as before. 

From the yellow light he could see a silhouette waiting for him, outline of a familiar figure looming closer. As he continued to blink, she drew closer, detail coming into view, the light brighter forcing him to raise a hand in defence of his vision.

***

Rocket stretched out his small limbs, back hurting from leaning over the workbench. He had given up on Peter’s guns a while ago, he wasn’t even sure how long he attempted to get into the inner workings of the blasters. In the end there was nothing he could do, try, or even attempt to dismantle or even power the weapons. His attention quickly switched back to his explosives, giving Raker’s metal arm a good look over when his curiosity got the better of him.

With his workspace within the central living space, Rocket had remained of Quill watch, allowing Drax out of his timeslot, though he was tempted not to after him continuing to call him a rodent.

Groot would saunter in from time to time to check on him only to be waved away.

Rocket didn’t want to talk, ignoring the problems was just easier than dealing with them.

After all Rocket was doing what he did best, building and creating deadly devices that could detonate by design. He hadn’t come across a problem he couldn’t explode his way out of. Not Half world, not the seven prisons that had failed to contain him.

“Aren’t you a beauty.” Rocket playfully tossed the small bomb around in his hand, testing its weight distribution.

The unusual gargle sounds of the space Llama caught Rocket by surprise, almost making him miss the spinning explosive he had tossed to himself. He caught it with both hands having to dive to the floor for it. Getting up he gently placed the device on the table.

“That’s it!” Rocket jumped up onto the edge of the settee baring his small, pointed teeth. The creature had its purple nose inches away from Peter’s face, nose twitching as it sniffed him. “Shoo Shoo!” Rocket waved his arms, hopping onto the small central table to discourage the beast. Snuffing and bleating it trotted off somewhere out of sight. “Groot! Get that thing in a cage before I eject it off my ship!” He angrily threatened to whoever was in earshot.

Rocket went to return to his place, his position at his beloved workbench, the final adjustments just waiting to be made to his new love in life.

His ear twitched towards Peter.

Something not sitting right with Rocket, he looked back down at the man, getting a closer look.

Peter lay where he had been the entire time, completely still.

Too still.

“Gamora!” Rocket cried out, a fear in his words he had only previously expressed for Groot. The assassin came charging in, Drax and Groot not far behind.

“What?!” She asked alarmed, manoeuvring around the space swiftly to get over to them. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s not b-breathing.” Rocket couldn’t recall the last time he stumbled over his words in such a way.

“I am Groot?!”

“I don’t know, I just turned round and… and well he was like this.” Rocket motioned towards Quill; a blue tinge now noticeable on his lips.

Gamora jumped over the settee, pushing Rocket to one side, she went to pull back the blankets when Drax’s hand clamped around her wrist.

“What are you doing?!” She tried to pull away from his grasp.

“Now would be the most likely time for your inevitable betrayal.” Drax narrowed his eyes at her, dead serious about his accusation.

“Are you serious!?” Gamora’s eyes widened in utter surprise.

“Statistically, taking out the leader first poses the best chance for successful acquisition of the ship.”

“Drax, he isn’t breathing, he is going to die!” Gamora put simply, a very real panic laced through her words.

“I am Groot.” The flora colossus boomed in distress, a branch stretching out and wrapping around Drax’s arm forcing him to release the daughter of Thanos.

Instead of disputing the attack, she resumed pulling back the blankets.  She placed an ear to Peter’s grey shirt, listening over his heart.

Without a word, she tilted Peter’s head back and pressed her lips to his, one hand pinching his nose. Rocket watched for possibly the first time in his life speechless.

Peter’s chest rose when Gamora breathed for him, lungs expanding by her hand.

“I am Groot!”

Rocket snapped out of it. Doing as Groot suggested he ran for the limited medical supplies they carried. He set them down on the table, rummaging through the mess of vials, tech and empty packaging someone hadn’t properly disposed of.

Rocket flicked through the digital menu, looking for the correct dosage for a Terran.

“Flarkin’ thing doesn’t do Terran.” Rocket spat; frustration enhanced by the situation.  

Gamora snatched the device from Rocket, socketing one of the vials into the chamber before pressing it to Peter’s neck.

Everyone waited, for some reason holding their own breath as they waited for Peter to breathe on his own.

Seconds passed.

Gamora’s hand rested on Peter’s arm.

Rocket couldn’t blink.

Peter suddenly wheezed. Though weak, his lungs returned to work, strike over for now.

Rocket slumped down on the table, sitting back he pulled his goggles from his head, setting them down.

“How did you know that would work?” Rocket didn’t realise he needed to catch his breath, the sentence coming out in almost a pant.

Gamora had a delicate hand over Peter’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of him breathing.  Eyes only on him.

“One needs to know many variations in biology to be… an assassin.” She paused before the end, debating the conclusion of her sentence while she spoke it.

Chapter Text

Gamora sat on the settee, Peter’s head on her lap, hand still on his chest looking off into the distance lost in thought. He was shivering uncontrollably, lip trembling, breathing troubled. Her free hand would find his forehead occasionally, his brow cold but clammy her touch attempting to calm his tremors.

Rocket noted this while at his workbench while glancing over his shoulder at the two.

The situation with Drax had been more than awkward, atmosphere stale, no one speaking unless necessary. Rocket had at least convinced the Katathian to monitor their communications while attempting to deliver ‘Dog  Report’ to Cosmo.

The only sounds within the vessel were of Groot moving around, keeping himself busy watering the plants around the room and himself every now and then. He had also taken the time to contain the space llama once more in the cargo bay, keeping the thing out of trouble for now.

Rocket worked diligently at his workbench, in the final steps of completing a small device, one quickly cobbled together from the random medical tech he had unearthed. He carelessly tossed tools about, wrapping up what he was doing.

Rocket carefully approached Gamora, being aware that she wasn’t entirely present.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “It’s done.”

Gamora blinked before turning her head in his direction.

“Does it work?” She appeared calm, voice stable, nothing that said otherwise within those dangerous eyes.

“One way to find out.” Rocket flipped the corner of the blanket over to get to Peter’s arm. He turned the limp limb, so his palm was face up wrist exposed. Like a bracelet Rocket strapped the bootleg device around the Terran’s wrist, immediately there was a soft pulsing sound to the rhythm of Peter’s heart. “Should give us a head’s up if he takes another turn for the worst.” Rocket shrugged. Usually, he was confident in his tech, however he wasn’t sure on much at this moment.

Rocket tugged the blanket back into position, Peter still shivering, the first form of movement Peter had made since there return to the ship.

“Drax will come round.” Rocket assured Gamora, not caring to much if he was heard from the cockpit. Groot’s branches twisted, intrigue with the initiation of the conversation.

“I do not care for his opinions of me.” She quickly stated, again her voice not spoken in a way to keep unwanted ears from listening in.

“Why you doin’ all this?” Rocket finally came out with it, tail swishing behind him nervously. After all he was standing in front of the daughter of Thanos, a renowned assassin.

She collected her thoughts, eyes looking away from Rocket, fleeting glances around the room before looking back to him.

“Peter… He was one of the first people to trust me. Believe in the real me.” She explained, thoughts struggling to be this open. “He let me be part of a team, has trusted me to act on my own.” She paused, taking a long look at the man whose head lay on her lap. “I have a debt to pay.”

“You know…” Rocket chuckled lightly. “I think I’m starting to get you Greenie.” He offered a genuine smile. Gamora returned one. “We’ve all done some scut here and there, none of us have clean pasts. Yes, some may be dirtier than others and - “

“I am Groot.” The flora interrupted, probing Rocket to get on with it.

“What I’m trying to say is, you’ve got… friends… here.” Rocket tilted his head, not sure if he said the right thing.

“I am Groot.” Groot nodded along happily, seeming extremely pleased with his little friend.

Gamora gave a brief smirk. She went to say something but changed her mind, giving an appreciative nod instead.

“Well… Good chat. I just – just need to go grab something.” Rocket pointed over his shoulder towards his quarters. Backing up slowly Groot intercepted him on his way past him. The large hand came down on his head, patting him encouragingly. “Get off.” Rocket grumbled back though grateful for his friends support in his social developments.

***

The light was now blinding, Peter’s hand not doing much to protect his eyes from the light that beamed in his eyes. Squinting he tried to look ahead at the figure before him. But the figure was gone, just the light shining in his eyes.

Something suddenly grasped his wrist from behind, spinning him round putting his back to the light.

“Peter, you need to stop her.” Ko-Rel continued to hold onto his wrist, keeping him facing away from the blinding light.

Strangely he felt a need to turn back around, to keep proceeding forward, Ko-Rel’s efforts the only thing preventing him from continuing.

“Ko-Rel? W-w-what’s happening?” Peter finally heard his own voice.

“I don’t know how, or why but the three of us are connected somehow.” Ko-Rel kept a tight hold on his wrist, Peter unknowingly slightly tugging away. “You need to get through to her, she needs to accept that I’m not coming back.”

“I don’t understand?” Peter felt his heart flutter, as if it stopped momentarily.

“She needs to accept my death.” Her eyes were gentle, a sadness that glimpsed into his soul pulling his mind together, fractured pieces being strung back into one piece.

***

The Milano dropped out of lightspeed, the space station immediately in view sporting the vibrant blue and yellow colours of the Nova Corps, a collapsed planet beside it, sliced into pieces, a dead world.

“We have arrived.” Drax informed the others, though they’re all seated beside him, all looking at the same view.

Rocket flicked switches and pulled back a leaver on his right to bring the ship in at a soft glide. The area was busy, ships queuing up, no one seeming to be moving. From Peter’s chair Rocket had access to all the Milano’s controls, from diagnostics, communications and of course flight controls.

Still, it didn’t feel right, even with the numerous times he and Peter had disputed the ship, it didn’t sit right with him to be at the helm in such a situation.

Gamora leant against the doorway behind the captain’s chair, not wanting to leave Peter completely, head turning back to face the shivering Terran often.

As they moved through the stationary ships Rocket discovered the cause of the roadblock. Nova ships stood guard at the perimeter of the station, immobilizing any ship that tried to barge past with a disabler, leaving the stricken vessels floating in space helplessly.

“What the flark is going on here?”

“I haven’t seen this many ships around Xander since the start of the Galactic War.” Gamora looked around wide eyed, to surprise the daughter of Thanos was not a feat taken lightly.

“I am Groot.” Groot looked back from his seat at Rocket, head tilting in concern, tone representing this.

“This is what the pooch wanted us to do.” He attempted to comfort his friend, even though he was not sure himself on the choices that had led them to the point in which they stand at.

“We must deliver Dog Report.” Drax insisted.

Rocket attempted communication’s, a menu coming up on his console. He tapped through the options getting frustrated when he hit a dead end each time. It appeared the Worldmind was aware of the Universal Church of Truth and the ‘situation’ sweeping the galaxy. However, it seemed there was little they were doing about it.

“They’re refugees.” Gamora peered out into space, the realisation revealed to everyone. “I don’t see any rescue shuttles… They’re ignoring them.”

“That can’t be right?” Rocket looked round. “These Nova Corps might be a bunch of self-righteous bucket-heads but there whole flarking deal is to help folk… They’re supposed to be helping folk.” Rocket insisted. It was the last thing Rocket thought he could be sure of, to count on. A constant throughout the galaxy that never changed.

He appeared to be wrong. For a second, he wondered if he was locked within another fake dreamscape, a further promise having been offered to him and unknowingly accepted.

Looking past the perimeter of Nova ships there was no movement from the station itself, no ships departing to come to the aid of those at its doors. No help.

A pit began to well in Rocket’s stomach.

“I am Groot.”

“I’m trying. Where’s a helpline when you need one.” Rocket continued to navigate through the menu, each one leading nowhere helpful. Suddenly a branched finger reached over, tapping the screen over the selection ‘Pay A Fine’.

Immediately the visage of the Worldmind appeared before them. Golden light pushing back all darkness of space within its area, the star crowned disembodied head of the supercomputer something benevolent to witness.

“Gardeners of the Galaxy. Explain yourself.” The collective spoke as one, voices layered, speaking in complete unison.

“It’s Guardians of the Galaxy smart ass, check the addendum.” Rocket smirked, relishing in the opportunity to school a so called all-knowing being.

“We need you’re help.” Gamora spoke up, Rocket’s social skills still in development.

“To pay a fine?”

“What? No. You need to stop-“

“The Universal Church of Truth cannot be stopped; the galaxy cannot be saved.” The Worldmind interrupted, its booming voice and enormous size making anyone fall silence at an utter of its words.

Everyone stared up at the Worldmind, all struggling to take in the admission.

“You can’t be flarkin’ serious!” Rocket shouted back when no one else spoke up.

“A mass delusion known as The Promise is sweeping its systems converting all who encounter it.”

“Not us sweetheart.” Rocket snapped back, jumping up so he stood on the captain’s seat.

“The Universal Church of Truth cannot be stopped.” The Worldmind insisted emotionlessly, a calculated conclusion by a computer.

“Then how does your all-knowing circuits explain us then? We faced The Promise and here we are. Might want to check for a cross wire somewhere.” Rocket narrowed his eyes, somewhere deep down finding it humorous to be arguing with a computer, though a very intelligent one formed of a collective consciousness.

“We just escaped the Church’s mothership, we have intel-“

“There is nothing you can tell us that we don’t already know.” The Worldmind cut Gamora off.

“We don’t have time for this!” She shouted back. “We have someone in need of medical assistance.” She attempted to change the course of the conversation.

“Peter Jason Quill, aka ‘Star-Lord’ is in critical condition.” The Worldmind words reeled off like a script.

“Tell us something we don’t know!” Rocket was as frustrated as Gamora. “Whatever your calculations tell you, we survived The Promise, this is fact. The energy they use, are harnessing, is no different from the way you power your bucket-heads, just because things seem impossible doesn’t mean they are.” Rocket bared his teeth briefly, lip curling upwards in a snarl.

The Worldmind paused, looking down at them, computing.

“Our primary directive is to preserve Xandarian culture, all else is secondary.”

“To preserve culture, mustn’t there be those alive to be apart of it?” Drax spoke up, arms crossed over his bare chest, having been listening intently.

“Purhaps…”

The rest of the group looked over to Drax surprised. A man of few words having somehow planted a seed of doubt in a supercomputer by uttering one sentence.

“I am Groot.”

Rocket now looked to Groot, again surprised by the wisdom his two team mates where presenting.

“You have given us new data to consider, Guardians of the Galaxy.” The Worldmind beamed just a little brighter, making everyone eyes readjust. “However, right now, we need to focus on our departure.”

“Departure!” Rocket exclaimed, beating Gamora and Drax to it.

“The Universal Church of Truth forces draw closer to this region of space; it is critical we depart before their arrival.”

“What about Quill, the refugees?” Gamora stood her ground, questioning one that in theory should never be questioned.

“We did not make this decision without considering all available options. Goodbye, Guardians of the Galaxy.”

“No-No wait!” Rocket called but it was too late. The image of the Worldmind vanished, the space plunged back into the limited light, the shattered remains of the original planet of Xander an ominous reminder of the destructive forces the world held around a hidden corner.

The ships barring the entrance to the station quickly manoeuvred back within the safety of the station before New-Xander moved forward in an instant, burst of light taking the entire ship into lightspeed. The force knocked all stationary ships backward. Stranded, somewhere unable to stop themselves crashing into another.

On queue the very ship they had just escaped from appeared in view, the Sacrosanct, the Universal Church appeared where New-Xander had just been.

“Rocket get us out of here!” Gamora finally took her seat at her console.

“No scut!” Rocket growled back, already manoeuvring the ship into jump position.

Just as a darkness started to infest his mind, an influence trying to penetrate his brain he thrusted a leaver forward taking the ship into lightspeed.

Chapter Text

Peter shook his head in denial. The light behind him continued to call almost like a whisper in his ear but Ko-Rel still held onto him, not letting him turn away from her.

“You-You’re…” Peter couldn’t get the words out, a sentence never forming.

“Peter, she needs you.” Ko-Rel continued to tell him, trying to get through to the man veiled behind a fog of doubt.

He hung his head, everything she was telling him sinking in, his mind starting to become his own. He didn’t want to believe it, of course he didn’t. The truth hurt after all.

A hand lifted his chin.

“She can still be saved.” Ko-Rel smiled, trying to reassure him, trying to ease his pain. If it was true and she was gone, then Nikki needed someone. “Save my daughter.”

“I don’t understand, h-h-how am I...?” Peter’s words practically fell out of his mouth, too much wanting to be said at once, an explosion of thoughts and questions wanted to be brought forth simultaneously. “Am I dead?” He finally asked. Peter went to look around, head swivelling back towards the light.

Ko-Rel’s hand came up forcing his face back towards her before letting her hand find his shoulder.

“You’re dying.” She said simply. “The closer you come to death, the clearer I will become. But you need to fight Peter, you need to fight for her.”

“I don’t know how.” Peter wanted to scream, to shout out in frustration but his voice came out as nothing more than a sorrowful whisper.

“Yes, you do.” She continued to smile, eyes looking for his, his gaze having been evading hers. “Show her how to let me go.”

“I can’t.” Peter didn’t notice the tear roll down his cheek until Ko-Rel brushed it aside.

***

Their second narrow escape from the Sacrosanct had the team in silence, all waiting for someone to say something, to suggest a new plan. They had come so far, expecting the Nova Corps to help, for the Worldmind to have an answer. Some would argue they got an answer, just not one they wanted to hear.

Rocket ordered the events, pondered their next move but came up with nothing. Without a word he pulled back a leaver, the ship dropping out of lightspeed and coming to halt in an unknown corner of space.

“Why have we stopped?” Gamora turned in her chair towards him.

“If you have a destination in mind, I’m all ears.” Rocket checked over what scans he could run of the Milano, taking note on fuel and general condition.

“We can’t just sit here! “

“No, we can’t. So, you better start coming up with a plan, because we aren’t moving til’ we’ve got one.” The Milano wasn’t in the best condition, from their brief space scuffle with the Lethal Legion they appeared to be leaking fuel.

“The Sacroscant is back there, if they find us were screwed!” Gamora stood, her ferocity gleaming through.

“If we’re dead in the water were screwed!” Rocket barked back, holding his ground against the assassin.

“I am Groot?” Groot looked to him, posing a question.

“Don’t you start.” Rocket snapped, all eyes on him. “Milano’s leaking fuel. We can’t just go galivanting across the galaxy while we attempt to come up with a plan B.” Rocket let everyone in on the loop.

“It’s only a matter of time before the galaxy accepts The Promise.” Drax so helpfully added.

“So, we’re just giving up?” Gamora looked like she wanted to swing at someone, rage building as her fists clenched.

“Giving up! I’m trying my best here” Rocket shouted back, taking offence.

“Maybe if you hadn’t of pursued Raker previously we would not be in this situation now.” Drax stepped in.

Gamora’s eyes locked on him like a hunter fixates on its prey.

“I’ve done nothing but try and help. Help Nikki, help Peter!” There was no calming Gamora now, she approached Drax making him stand in defence.

“What do you think we’ve all been doing?!” Rocket joined in the shouting contest.

Words were shouted back and forth, each trying to bring the other down, plant blame somewhere.

Through the argument Groot had been trying to get their attention, but his words had gone in one ear and out the other until the Flora Colossus stood, voice topping everyone’s.

“I AM GROOT!”

“What beeping?” As soon as he said it, Rocket realised what he meant. He jumped from his chair, rushing into the living space. “Gamora get in here!”

Peter was on the settee, body convulsing slightly as he struggled to breath, beeping of his heart monitor barely audible.

Rocket stood before the Terran, a tiny hand on his shoulder. Peter’s back would arch slightly, head digging back into the settee.

“I am Groot?”

“I don’t know!” Rocket snapped back at his friend, Groot stood with Drax a few feet away from them, keeping out the way as Gamora readied the same medical device she had used before.

“Move.” Rocket was shoved aside, Gamora injecting something into Peter’s neck.

She stepped back, expecting what was happening to end. It didn’t.

Peter continued to shake, breathing continuing to hitch and sputter, face looking pained.

It took time for Peter to finally settle. It was touch and go for a while, with nothing they could do the Guardians sat around the living space just waiting, waiting for anything to happen. Gamora rested beside the settee, hand holding Peter’s while the seizure had a hold of his form. After a few minutes he had finally calmed. He wasn’t shaking or even shivering anymore, the heart monitor barely beeping but his heart did still beat.

The room was silent.

“He doesn’t have long.” Gamora still held his hand.

Rocket ran a paw over his muzzle, pacing he looked to Groot.

“I am Groot.”

Rocket stopped pacing. His outburst earlier, the anger that had been freed left him feeling nothing more than empty. Drax sat listening on the opposite settee, arms on his knees, head hung, as he seemed to ponder their predicament.

Rocket shook his head in response to his friend, itching his fury chin he looked up at him.

“We only have enough fuel for one jump… We need to be sure.” He replied.

“I am Groot.” There was wisdom in them big brown eyes.

“That fleabag is most likely already a believer.” Rocket disregarded Groot’s point.

“What’s he saying?” Gamora quired from her seated position beside Peter.

“I am Groot.” The tree stepped forward confidently.

Rocket looked to him then to Gamora.

“He wants to deliver the Dog Report.” He gestured to his tall tree companion.

“He wants to go to Knowhere?” Gamora wanted to clarify.

“I am Groot.” Groot nodded, happy to be acknowledged.

“We will all accept The Promise eventually.” Drax commented randomly, never lifting his head.

“Speak for yourself, ain’t no flarkin’ nutjobs getting one over on me again. I’m done being controlled.” He mumbled the last few words to himself, though he’s sure the others heard.

“Rocket, the place will be crawling with believers…”

“Why do I sense a but coming.” He folded his arms in front of him.

“But Knowhere is a space port, supplies, equipment being shipped there from all over.” She leaned forward, Rocket able to see the plan forming in her eyes.

“If there’s anything to help Quill it would be at Knowhere.” Rocket joined Gamora in her realisation.

Peter’s breath got caught in the back of his throat again briefly, making everyone look to him except Drax who remained distant.

“He just needs to make it there.” Gamora stood, tucking his arm back under the blanket, her hands diligently making sure he was covered properly.

“Oh, he’ll make it, I’ll make sure of it.” The serious tone that came from Rocket surprised even himself, power behind those words, almost spoken as a threat to his unconscious friend.

Chapter Text

Gamora leant against the side of the workbench, watching diligently as Rocket worked, eyes tracking the movement of his hands. His goggles where down, sparks fizzling as he soldered some frayed wires together. The device was small, even smaller than the last one he made. The size posed no issue for his small nimble hands, allowing him to not be hindered in the process.

Rocket felt more at ease for some reason. He wondered if was due to the fact that after all their destination had been set and had a plan in motion for once.

“This isn’t going to go any faster with you breathing down my neck.” Rocket didn’t look up at Gamora.

“You really think he’ll make it?” She asked bluntly, arms folding as she stood straight.

“I’ll bet my fur on it.” Rocket scoffed, he sounded more convincing than he felt.

Gamora nodded slowly, deciding whether to believe him or not. She turned starting to walk away until she pulled herself back having a second thought she needed to discuss.

“Drax… is acting strange.”

“Strange is his middle name.” Rocket chuckled, the notion that Drax was normal to begin with very funny to him.

“Strange for Drax.” She clarified, peeved that Rocket hadn’t taken her seriously the first time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rocket looked up, flipping his goggles on top of his head.

“After our near escape from The Promise he’s been…  I just think we need to keep an eye on him.”

“Well, you’ve got two eyes, your more than qualified for the job.” Rocket snapped his goggles back down over his eyes returning to his work.

“Rocket.” She growled behind sheathed teeth.

“Alright, alight… I’ll keep an eye out.” He said to appease her, just wanting to be left to his work.

Rocket didn’t hold anything against Drax for trying to stop Gamora from aiding Peter previously, to be honest he still wasn’t too sure if he trusted her whole heartedly. But to be honest, she hadn’t done anything to lead him to mistrust her, everything she has done or been doing has been seemingly honest. Her worry for Peter and Nikki appears at the surface a hundred percent genuine.

Rocket rid himself of these thoughts swiftly, them serving no purpose than to distract him from his project.

With Gamora leaving him to work, and with the hand of time ticking by, eventually the contraption was finished, constructed from cobbled together pieces of medical tech and whatever else he had laying around. It wasn’t a pretty bit of machinery, but if he was right should give Peter a fight chance.

Gamora looked down at the device of course sceptical with its appearance.

“This needs to go into his arm.” Rocket pointed to a thin cylinder piece of metal, haphazardly connected to a tiny device via several thin tangled wires.

Gamora picked up an electronic tablet that had been laid aside, flicking through the screen, scans of Peter’s vitals and current condition appeared.

“His body is shutting down because he’s too cold how is this-“

Rocket cut Gamora off, anticipating the question.

“This will warm him from the inside. His blood specifically, which will then be distributed around the body.” Rocket picked up the device, turning dials on the box and prepping the settings. He hopped down from the workbench, approaching Peter.

“Rocket, his heart is barely beating.” Gamora followed him.

“That’s why this isn’t a fix, it’s just meant to give us time.”

There was a pause.

“Ok.” Gamora finished her questioning, laying aside the screen in her hands.

Rocket was surprised that she hadn’t questioned him more, like he had expected.  In the end he deduced she trusted him causing a sting of guilt for his earlier deliberation on her reliability previously.

“I’m going to need your help.” Rocket admitted.

He explained the procedure to Gamora, the incision that needed to be made and how to metal must be angled. The piece that needed to be inserted was much like a thick blunt needle.

Peter didn’t argue with there pocking and prodding, staying very much still as Gamora and Rocket worked to implant the device.

This concerned them both.

Peter’s arm was beside him exposed from the blanket, palm up like before, this time a device now strung halfway up his arm around his elbow. The piece of the device has been sunk a good inch into his arm, medical spray having been applied to slow the bleed. Device secured to his arm and not going anywhere Rocket tapped with one finger to adjust the settings, the simple display talking back to him in shorthand to fit on the screen.

“It’s working.” He couldn’t help but smirk, for some reason he had seen his invention failing. Maybe with everything that had happened, with every hit they had taken he just assumed failure was their only option.

***

The light was getting dimmer now, the urge to turn round fading. Peter watched Ko-Rel, from  the faint sympathetic smile, to the way her eyes glistened, he cherished every moment.

“You need to do this Peter, for me.” She squeezed his wrist that she still had a hold of.

“Ko-rel I… Why didn’t you tell me about Nikki?” Peter switched thought mid-sentence.

“Peter she-“

“I did the math, you and me twelve years ago.” Peter butted in, a little abrasive.

“Peter, she’s not you’re daughter. She’s not my daughter either.”

Peter’s posture straightened up in surprise.

“I-I-I don’t understand?” He stammered.

“She’s a war orphan.” Peter stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to say. In a way he was upset, disappointed even. “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need you.” There was that gentle warming smile, a beautiful smirk that one can’t help smiling back at.

“Ko-Rel…”

“I’m nothing more than a ghost of the person I was, you’re not leaving anything behind.” She read his features, knowing exactly what plagued his mind. Peter nodded, doing his best to hold back tears.

At this point Peter realised the light behind him was almost gone, that bitter chill he had felt subdued slightly, Ko-Rel’s hold on his wrist loosened until suddenly her hand phased through him.

“Goodbye Peter.”

***

Rocket had sat monitoring his device for a few hours now, concerned with its botched birth he needed to be sure the readings he was getting were authentic. With time he came to deduce the device was indeed working, slowly but surely warming Peter’s blood as it passed by the heated element within his vein, that blood then traveling back to the heart brining heat to his core.

Rocket knew it wasn’t a fix, he just needed to get Peter to Knowhere.

He was cleaning up the space, tossing equipment lazily into a box when he thought he heard Peter shift. At first, he brushed it off, assuming her had misheard. But there it was again. He looked up, eyes scanning Peter beside him.

Rocket watched Peter’s eyes slowly flutter open, a weakness to them that painted a picture of his condition.

“Quill!” Rocket didn’t mean to shout, the complete utter pure joy he felt from seeing his friend open his eyes not a feeling that can be described with simple words. Rocket rested a hand on the Terran’s arm with the device attached, discouraging him from moving the limb.

“Ko-Rel?” Was the first thing Peter mumbled.

Rocket could tell he was barely with it, not present entirely.

“Come on Scut-Lord, hang in there.” Rocket insisted as he watched Peter’s eyes flutter.

“Rocket?” Peter finally acknowledged him, eye’s just about finding Rocket as they struggled to stay open.

Rocket let out a relived deep breath.

He went to speak when something grabbed him from behind. He was lifted, feet brought from the ground as Drax had a hold of him by the scruff.

“What the-“ Rocket half shouted out when he was spun round, fist planted in his stomach winding him.

“It is time.” Drax ominously whispered before tossing Rocket to the side, making his back hit his workbench, one of Peter’s guns tumbling from the surface finding the floor near Rocket.

Heaving, lungs panicking as he tried to catch his breath, arms struggling to lift him from his chest.

“Drax…?” He managed to wheeze out, finding the Destroyer walking over to him.

“Hovat and Kamaria will be restored!” Unbridled excitement spewed from Drax. “With faith… With the Matriarch’s Promise they will be restored!”

Rocket watched a wide grin consume Drax’s face, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Gamora, Groot!” Rocket shouted as Drax approached, scrambling back as far as he could hand brushing against Peter’s fallen blaster.

“You will accept her Promise… or you will perish.” Rocket now only noticed the purple glow within Drax’s eyes, like a fog clouding his mind.

Rocket raised Peter’s gun with both hands.

Pulling back the trigger nothing happened. The trigger clicked and that was all. As quick as Rocket had claimed the blaster it was kicked from his hand, skittering across the floor.

Suddenly a battle cry entered the space, Gamora jumping the settee fist landing on Drax’s chin. He stood stone still taking the hit, his head only moving from the force.

His hand snapped round, finding her throat, making her bright eyes go wide.

“You will accept the Promise!” Drax roared, brows furrowed with his angered insistence.

A blast hit Drax’s in the back, a pulse of blaster energy having been fired. The surprise attack staggered Katathian allowing Gamora to break free. Her hand going to her neck as she stumbled about on unsteady feet momentarily as she caught her breath.

Drax recovered quickly, spinning round he in one smooth motion snatched the gun from Peter’s shaking hand, back handing him with his own weapon, knocking him down against the settee.

Gamora swept her leg under Drax from behind, Rocket firing an electric pulse at his bare bringing him to the ground before Gamora crashed an elbow down on the Katathian head dazing him.

He reached eyes a blur towards Gamora, dodging back she moved towards the bathroom door. Getting up, hand resting on one side of his face he charged blindly.

With the elegance and swiftness of a master assassin Gamora dived out the way, on her feet immediately as Drax passed the rooms threshold, door ordered closed.

Catching her breath she backed slowly from the door, angered cries, and the banging of his fists against metal filled the space suddenly.

“You will- you will accept The Promise!” Manic laughter erupted from the other side of the door.

Rocket looked to Peter immediately.

He was pulling himself back up, using the arm of the settee to aid him. In a final ditch effort to remain conscious Peter tried to stand, blood trickling from the wound on his temple. Instead, he fell in a heap on the floor.

Chapter Text

The shouting continued, audible throughout the entire ship. Drax refused to relent with his assault on the door, insisting his confines would not hold him. The situation had somehow spiralled even further out of control, a theorised impossibility until now.

“I am Groot…” The soft-spoken words attempted to soothe the angered Katathain, but the babble of a mad man continued, words at time not forming comprehensible sentences.

“Groot, he’s too far gone for that to work buddy.” Rocket called to his friend, his focus on Peter who with the help of Gamora had been propped up against the settee, back off the hard floor at least.

“This was the last thing he needed.” Gamora mumbled, one hand keeping Peter’s head supported while the other dapped a cloth against his bleeding temple. The strike Drax had unfortunately made a direct hit.

Though the device Rocket had constructed has appeared to help before, its effect minuscule, not able to warm the Half Terran’s blood quick enough.

It has been a brief relief to see Peter conscious, that moment of a small victory so quickly snatched from them, the feeling of dread returning.

“How did this even happen?!” Rocket shook his head, anger misdirected at Gamora. “Where were you?”

“Where was I?” Gamora turned to him, words defensive. “I was locked in the engine room with Groot!” She snapped back, still taking care with Peter’s head. His face was the same pale shade, shock still very much having hold of his system from his not so pleasant encounter with the freezing company of space.

Rocket went to fight back, questionable words about to be spoken but never managing to be much more than a thought thanks to Groot’s interruption.

“I am Groot!” The Floral Colossus had abandoned his post at the bathroom door to address the rest of his dysfunctional team.

Rocket hung his head. There was no counter he could make, accepting the fact that Groot was right his only option.

“He’s right, this isn’t helping Peter or Drax…”

Gamora nodded, pressing the blood-stained cloth back to Peter’s head, the blood flow mostly stabilised.

The awkwardness continued, everyone seemingly waiting for something to happen between the sound of Drax rambling from the bathroom.

“We can’t be far from Knowhere.” Rocket spoke aloud, but it was more of an internal question he happened to speak out loud. He moved up to the controls of the ship, hoping up into the captain’s chair he managed the screens in front of him, getting them to display the relevant information he was seeking.

He immediately found something he wished he hadn’t.

“No… No!” Rocket shouted in anger, fist slamming down on the nearest surface. “We had one jump, enough fuel for one jump!” Rocket slumped down in the chair head no longer held above his shoulders.

Gamora had rushed to his side, Groot remaining behind to watch there fallen team members. Over Rocket’s shoulder she didn’t need to ask to see what was wrong.

Their destination had been altered, there course for Knowhere having been changed.

“Krutackin’ fool…” Rocket almost sobbed, his true feelings starting to seep through the walls he puts up.

The screen showed nothing more than co-ordinates that had been implemented, there destination for now unknown. Having been haphazardly implemented mid jump it was hard to judge if they would even make it to their new destination before the ship gave out.

“Will we make it?” Gamora was thinking the same thing.

Rocket sighed slowly, eyes closed as he took in their situation, attempting to restore clam to his mind to give a space for problem solving. In the end he shrugged a reply.

“Maybe… it hard to judge” Rocket hit the side of once of the screens, the numbers glitching out, the ships systems struggling.

Gamora stood there for a time, waiting for Rocket to say more but he didn’t, and she knew better than to probe further. She was aware of the importance of their destination selection beforehand and the circumstances of the ships condition. She knew better than to question the situation and the answer he had given when she too knew it was a troublesome outcome.

She went to leave, unable to find words of comfort for her team member at the time.

“You were right.” Rocket then said, making her stop and look back. “I should have listened to you before, about Drax.” Gamora had never heard Rocket sound so defeated.

“You did listen.” Rocket turned his chair to face Gamora, confused with her reply. “Neither of us could have seen this coming. I thought he was troubled by what he saw in his Promise… I didn’t think he would have fallen for it.” She explained.

Rocket nodded seeing reason in her words, accepting the explanation. After all he thought the same after Gamora had brought it up.

“It’s not over, not yet.” Gamora offered a genuine smirk of confidence.

Rocket felt a surge of enthusiasm, of hope.

His memory was a haze, flashes of violence coming to the forefront of his mind as he sifted through the dark behind closed eyes. Peter’s head throbbed, he was cold, everything aching but he was alive. Not that he felt it, he felt closer to death than he would like to admit. He was tired, a warmth still trying to lure him back further into the dark back to where the light beckoned for him. Ko-rel’s words kept him from returning, her plea for him to save her daughter giving him something to fight for.

Peter could feel something being pressed against his temple, causing a sting of pain to edge to closer to consciousness. It wasn’t pleasant. After all the close he got the worse he felt.

“Peter?” A concerned voice finally persuaded him to flicker his eyes open.

“Gamora?” Peter recognised her worried expression immediately even through blurred vision.

“Peter!” Someone shook him a little too hard, snapping his eyes back open. He hadn’t even recalled closing them. He was so tired, fatigue like a sickness throughout his body.

He could now see Rocket’s face beside Gamora’s, a beeping noise now being noticed.

“His pulse is still too slow.” Rocket growled.

“Peter, look at me.” Gamora directed his chin, so he faced her, his head having been lolling to the side, eyes again wanting nothing more to be sheathed behind his eyelids.

“W-wha…” He tried to speak, throat dry and painful.

“Don’t try to talk, just keep your eyes on me.” She insisted as something prodded his arm, a sting of pain not going unnoticed.

A memory suddenly rushed up, catching him off guard.

“Drax!” He managed to cry out, attempting to move in some fashion. A hand kept him in place, not requiring much force to contain his minor outburst.

Peter came to realise he was sitting up on the settee, the familiar smell and sights of the Milano starting to register. A banging and muffled shouting coming from somewhere behind him, he found little concern for these unfamiliar sounds, which in itself was a concern.

“Quill, it’s ok.” Gamora’s words eased him, the beeping that had suddenly sped up settling again. “We’re ok, thanks to you.”

Memories returned quickly of his short awakening previously. Having witnessed Drax attack his other friends, Gamora held in the Destroyer’s grasp. His desperate attempt to aid her with his acquired blaster before it was snatched from his hand before being used to strike him, sending him spiralling into an inescapable and inevitable unconsciousness once more.

“What h-happened?” He finally manged to ask; his voice strained.

“Gamora!” Rocket hissed from the side, face no longer in view.

“Peter.” She appeared to be trying to get his attention, confusing Peter as he assumed she knew she had it. “You need to calm down.” The consistent beeping had sped up again.

“I am Groot!” Came the familiar call of his floral friend, but like Rocket he wasn’t in view.

“Land it then!” Rocket called back.

“Peter, Peter…” Gamora voice was trailing off as consciousness came and went. “Peter please…”

The beeping of the heart monitor had increased as Peter had started to come too. Gamora watched in his eyes as he recalled their entanglement with Drax, fear snatching his breath from his already troubled lungs.

Gamora did her best to settle Peter, his attention on her as fleeting as his connection with consciousness.

Rocket had acted fast, administering another injection to attempt to get his frantic heart under control to wrangle his shallow rapid breathing.

Everything was happening all at once. Drax’s mad cries of the Promise, the constant banging as he continued to insist his freedom, the door held but only just. Dents starting to form where his fist struck.

Their destination was also upon them, Groot left to bring the crippled ship to a safe landing as Rocket and Gamora battled to keep Peter from slipping from their grasp. Gamora was barely paying any attention to the movements of the Milano, Peter’s deteriorating condition all that she could concern herself with.

She had only become aware of their landing with the sudden abrupt shaking of the ship as it met with the ground.

“Peter please…” Gamora rested her palm on the side of his face, smeared blood remained from the wound on his temple, Gamora having done her best to clean up the side of his face.

He wasn’t fully unconscious, but his heartbeat had started to slow, however showing no sign of stopping in his rhythmic decent.

“Hi guys!” A sweet voice spoke from behind them.

Gamora’s eyes snapped in the direction, a surprising but familiar face greeting her.

“Mantis?”

“Hi Gamora.” The young woman enthusiastically waved at her friend. Long black hair draped down her back, antennas swishing with her animated movements.

“We meant to know each other?” Rocket questioned, looking to Gamora for answers.

“Not yet little fuzzy.” Mantis smiled sweetly, adjusting the tail end of her dress to hang better.

“Mantis how-how are you here?” Gamora made sure Peter’s head was stabilised before standing to address their guest.

“I told him to come. On Knowhere… I saw what was on his mind, the lies that bind. What was a girl to do?” She continued to offer her infectious smile.

“Can someone translate her?” Rocket looked to Groot who had gathered round, watching closely.

Gamora shook her head, getting passed the circumstances of Mantis’s sudden but apparent inevitable arrival she looked back to Peter.

“Sun-Lord and Green meanie are fine… well fine-ish.” Mantis was suddenly next to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Or will be?” She then questioned herself, eyes narrowing as she thought hard on something.

Chapter Text

They thought putting Peter’s jacket on was difficult, carrying him from the ship wasn’t easy at all, Mantis helping Gamora the best she could, dragging the barely conscious man down the ramp of the Milano.

“We’ll come back for Green meanie later.” Mantis insisted.

Groot followed behind carrying Rocket, Rocket in turn carrying Peter’s blasters. Gamora spared a moment to take in their surroundings, to find out where Mantis had ordered Drax to bring them.

“Lamentis?” Gamora was pretty sure she knew where they were, more disbelief than anything.

“Oh, how silly of me, welcome back!” Mantis went to hug Gamora but stopped before dropping Peter, chuckling at her own silliness. “Oops.”

“Welcome back?” Rocket queried from his safe perch on Groot. They had landed in a small pond of sort, the water was clear, not that it mattered, it was still water. It made getting Peter through the terrain even more difficult, the man wet up to his knees by the time they found dry land.

“I- I came here once before, Injured. Mantis saved my life.” Gamora said between adjusting her grip on Peter.

The vegetation around the water had been lushes and thick, lily pads and all sorts of alien foliage green and full in the vicinity. However, as they made more ground away from their ship, the landscape changed to a deep orange, white cocoon like structures coming in view and more frequent.

“Yeah, yeah I did that.” Mantis smiled. Her innocence too sweet for its own good.

“Celestial Madonna!” An unknown voice called out. Lifting her head Gamora watched two figures approach. Garbed in a similar fabric of webbing to that of the structures that adorned the area, hairless other than the strands on their pointed chins, cheeks sunken, the two men approached.

“Right on time.” Mantis adjusted her grip on Peter’s arm, a hand still around his waist to keep in up right though Gamora was clearly doing most of the work.

They had come up on a village by now, bowls of food and cooking equipment hung up ready for use, baskets and chairs made from surrounding materials, homes made from the same strange webbing.

“Star-Guy is a friend; he needs our help.” The two men approached, listening to Mantis one took her place in carrying Peter, Gamora refused to give up her position working with the man to move Peter along.

“Please, this way.” The man instead led the way with Mantis.

The inside of the Cocoon structure was surprisingly homely for those who had not ventured to Lamentis before. Rocket and Groot had kept to them self for the most part upon their arrival. They for the most part just watched as Peter was laid down on bedding that had been laid out on the hard ground.

The people of the village seemed to live a simple life, living off what the land was able to supply.

“Careful.” Rocket jumped down from Groot, seeing Peter’s head not being fully supported in the effort to lower him down. 

Together with the strangers Peter was finally settled. Gamora kneeling beside the man with Rocket at her side.

“Gather what is needed.” Mantis ordered the two men, they nodded to her in agreement before leaving the structure.

“You can save him?” Rocket looked up at the strange woman, having to trust her with Peter’s fragile life.

“There are futures where I fail little fuzzy.” She kneeled in front of him, Rocket instinctually taking a step back. “But there are also futures where I save him.” There was that smile again, like a ray of sunshine piercing the darkest night.

“I don’t know what else to do for him…” Rocket had laid Peter’s blasters beside him.

“You’ve done plenty little fuzzy.” Mantis pet Rocket gently on the head, a look from Gamora stopping him from snarling.

“What are you going to do?” Gamora now questioned, Mantis moving up closer to Peter’s head.

“The cold of space is no place for a Terran…” She laid her hand on his forehead, avoiding the wound on his temple. The tips of her swishing antennas glowed green, eyes the same vibrant hue. “Trapped, three trapped, no… bound. Bound by soul, from one touch the stone bound, binds.”

“Mantis?” Gamora hesitated in reaching for her friend.

“Lost… so lost. Mind lost to grief.” A tear rolled down her cheek, a faint green glow fading as it dripped from her chin.  

Gamora made contact, her hand resting on Mantis’s arm. Her eyes returned to normal, blinking she came back round from the strange episode, her hand lifting from Peter’s head.

“He’s troubled. A responsibility weighing his mind down. Grief shared with another.” Mantis touched where the tear had rolled, surprised by the fact her face felt wet.  “He will need you… All of you.” Mantis looked to everyone in the room, eyes hovering over each of them as if to confirm the importance of her words.

Once the supplies had arrived, herbs, bowls and fresh jugs of water Mantis hadn’t wasted any time in biggening preparations. Groot had taken a seat on an opposite wall, Rocket pacing in front of him, eyes not leaving Peter.

Mantis ground herbs within a bowl, working in silence until Gamora spoke.

“What did you see before, when you touched him.” Gamora had been thinking on it for a little while now, waiting for the right moment to ask.

Mantis paused briefly, antennas swishing before settling.

“Lost souls.” She cryptically replied. Gamora wasn’t sure weather to press for more, the subject clearly upsetting Mantis.

“Mantis…”

“Little fuzzy, we won’t need your devices anymore.” Mantis interrupted Gamora, instead looking up from her work to address Rocket.

“Stop calling me that.” He muttered under his breath on approach, finding his place at Peter’s side. “Help me get his jacket off.” Gamora came to Rocket’s aid, once more tugging Peter’s beloved jacket from him, leaving his arms exposed, the devices Rocket had crafted to keep Peter alive now accessible.

“You saved him… I think it’s right for you to know that.” Mantis casually said. Rocket’s hands went still in his work to remove the devices from Peter’s arm.

He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped, quickly continuing in his efforts to remove the devices.

Once Peter’s arm was bare, they made sure to stop any bleeding from where one of the gadgets had been inserted.  After that Mantis began adding water to the ground mixture she had made.

“Gamora, help sit him up please.” Gamora was to her aid in an instant, carefully cradling Peter’s head before propping his back up on her knees.

Mantis laid a hand on Peter’s face, encouraging the unconscious man to open his mouth. She poured the concoction down his throat, the process going as smoothly as it could have, Peter sputtering a bit before shivering back into stillness.

“Is that it?” Rocket looked between everyone present, Groot shrugging at his little friend.

“Not yet little fuzzy.” Mantis resumed her work, repeating a similar process with another batch of herbs and other bottled vials of liquid.

“How do we even know if this is helping?!” Rocket’s paranoia was showing.

“Mantis saved my life Rocket, after I…” Gamora stopped, rethinking what she wanted to say. “I trust her. Trust me now, like Peter did.” She looked down at the man on her lap, running her green fingers through his messy hair.

Rocket didn’t say anything, simply backing down he resumed his pacing.

After a few hours of Mantis brewing a variation of remedies. Two Peter was forced to drink, another injected into his vein finally she sat back and sighed happily. After that she had instructed the group to watch him, leaving without another word, Rocket of course full of questions, all unanswered.

Then there was four. Groot, Gamora, Rocket and Peter huddled within someone’s small home.

Peter’s breathing had at least improved, the rise and fall of the man’s chest at a healthy rate.

“I am Groot?”

Rocket looked back at the tree, who was still seated. “Of course, buddy, course I’m fine.” Rocket scoffed. Groot had of course taken notice to the rodents excessive pacing.

“Rocket maybe you should sit down?” Gamora had rested Peter back down on the ground, the bedding under him somewhat comfortable. At least better than the solid ground.

“I’ll sit down when he wakes up!” Rocket pointed furiously at the sleeping man.

Gamora understood Rockets worry, it had been so long since she had heard Peter’s voice, seen that obnoxious smile he sometimes produced when he was right about something.  

“When who wakes up?”

Gamora’s eyes went wide, looking down at the man at her side Peter looked back up her, eyes tired.

“Quill!” Rocket leapt over jumping onto the man, grabbing at the collar of his top. “You flarkin’ fool!” Peter didn’t do anything to bat the rodent away, more surprised than anything by his friend sudden burst of emotion.  “Do you know what you’ve put us through!”

“Rocket get off him.” Gamora was the one to speak, to and try remove Rocket from Peter.

“Gamora no it’s ok.” Peter lifted his arms up but didn’t touch Rocket.

“Don’t you ever do that again…” Rocket’s anger subsided into genuine tears. His muzzle digging into Peters shoulder as he sat himself up. With one arm keeping him up off his back, his other wrapped around Rocket.

“Good to see you too buddy.” Peter though sore all over, felt good to have returned to the land of the living, ghosts no longer his only company. “What happened?” Peter finally asked, a memory instantly coming to mind. “Drax!”

Rocket pulled away, now his turn to calm the man.

“We got him locked up back on the Milano, he’s not going anywhere.”

“Guys!” Mantis called from outside. “It’s time!” She cheerfully called from beyond the door.

The group looked to each other unsure how to proceed.

“Mantis?” Peter questioned, Gamora helping him to his feet.

“Long story.” Gamora replied.

Rocket was the first to emerge from the building, Gamora helping Peter, Groot just behind them carrying Peter’s jacket and guns.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Rocket looked up, Mantis catching a ride on Drax’s back. The Destroyer some how calm and silent.

“Come on the creepy cave is this way.” She smiled, head peeking out from behind Drax’s shoulder.

“The what now?” Rocket looked back at the others like he was somehow the only one out the loop.

“With Star-Guy back on his feet, we must save Green Meanie!” She was too excited for Rocket’s liking.

Peter took more of his weight off Gamora. “I have no clue what’s going on… but someone can fill me in later.” He approached Groot taking his belongings from the gentle giant.

“I am Groot.” The colossus laid a heavy twigged hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks?” Peter nodded, only guessing what Groot had said.

With Gamora’s help he slipped his jacket back on, blasters returning to their holsters. His fingers were numb, but feeling was slowly returning, as was the strength in his muscles.

“Let’s save Drax.” Peter stood fully on his own, team behind him, ready to push forward.