Things in the Night

My first Gotg fic. If you would like me to see more please drop a review on the way out! :) This could completely stand alone as a one shot but I would like to take it farther!

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, which is probably the most obvious thing in the world, but...

Chapter 1

It started as the usual nightmare here and there and, truth be told, if it had stayed at that nothing would have changed between them. Because, well, she was stubborn and he (of course) was a dick. However, the thing about the Milano was that it was more then enough space for one or two people- but not so much for five. So when something was wrong with one of them, it became evident extremely fast to the others. And this was bound to get him in trouble.

At first he didn't think anything of the occasional bad dream- after all they had just been through a "slightly" emotionally scarring event and even he wasn't that big of an ass to deny that it would lead to some repercussions on his psyche. So when he woke up for the 4th night in a row in a cold sweat, with her face and the terrible things that could happen to her stuck in his head, he began to think he may have a problem on his hands. After all, he was Peter Quill, and he did not dwell over any one girl longer than an hour and 12 minutes.

When he emerged bleary eyed and exhausted on the 5th day and was greeted by his four (well, 3 really because the damn baby tree didn't really understand what the hell was going on) ship-mates and their reproachful looks he knew he definitely had a problem.

"Well, well look what the cat dragged in." Rocket sat on the floor, tinkering with something that looked like- dare he say it, a bomb. Peter dragged himself completely clear of it and walked around it, which only caused himself to stub his toe in the process on God knows what and curse the damn raccoon to hell loudly.

"Really?" He said as he finally sat down at his makeshift table. "You know what a cat is? But not a raccoon?" He asked incredulously, trying to change the subject off of himself and simultaneously realizing that the lack of sleep was putting him in a terrible mood.

"What is this ...cat...you speak of?" Gamora asked inquisitively suddenly. He hadn't noticed her until she had spoken up. She was sitting in the corner, perched on a chair and braiding her hair. If he had to be honest with himself, the sight of her relaxed him a little. Nothing I saw was real he told himself. She's sitting right there and she's fine. But, God, he was Peter Quill, and he shouldn't care whether she was fine or not- right?

"And this thing you speak of- this cat- what is it dragging in?" Drax sat across from her, looking completely perplexed. Gamora chimed in again softly with, "This cat sounds cruel…"

Peter heard Rocket sigh dramatically behind him and a mumble that sounded something like fuckin' morons.

"Nothing's being dragged, it's-" Peter stopped himself mid sentence, eyes drifting to the ceiling while he put his hand in his face. He realized that if they didn't even know what a cat was then there was no sense in continuing to explain himself.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Rocket here was simply being kind enough to comment on my dashingly good looks this morning. Weren't you, Rocket?"

He heard another snort from behind him. "Don't push me, Quill." Rocket mumbled, while going back to work on whatever the hell that thing was.

"But what does that have to do with something being dragged…?"

But he wasn't listening. Almost as soon as he sat down he realized he was too ridden with whatever anxiety had been filing him all night to sit in one spot. He quickly hopped up and grabbed whatever he could find for breakfast and then silently meandered back up the ladder to where he now slept, since sleeping quarters had to be shifted a little due to his 4 extra "guests" on board. In his hurry he accidently kicked Rocket, which elicited an angry "Watch it, asshat! I could blow up this whole damn piece of shit ship right now!" Peter didn't hear.

He threw himself back on his bed as soon as he reached it, shoving his headphones on and listening to "Awesome Mix Vol. 2" for the 1,258th time. He had a pounding headache, presumedly from lack of sleep. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He laid there for a few more minutes, allowing the music to ease his headache slightly- or maybe it was just making it worse, he couldn't decide. He suddenly felt something on his shoulder and he jumped clear off the bed. His eyes snapped open and there was Gamora, with a strange look on her face. His heart jumped a little, and he wrote it off as her startling him. He knew better, but-

He took off the headphones and raised his eyebrows at her, giving an inquisitive look. She didn't seek him out very often.

"What can I do for you m'lady?" he quipped, putting on a front to hide his exhaustion and bad mood.

"I-" she looked down at the floor suddenly. It was very uncharacteristic of her to seem unsure of anything, and he sat up a little bit on the bed.

"Mora? What's wrong?"

"Nothing at all." She looked quickly back up at him and cleared her throat slightly. "I meant merely to see how you were faring. I know your sleep recently has been...unsettled."

"Er...my sleep? How- how do you know? What are you talking about?"

"It is simply a conjecture based on what I hear you say at night while you are sleeping. However, you also appear as if-"

"What I say at night!?" He almost jumped off the bed. "I don't say anything at night, I don't know what your talking about Gams. I'm sleeping fine. No problems here. Sunshine and rainbows."

"What is-"

"Forget it," he interrupted quickly, his head spinning. He certainly wasn't in the mood to explain what a damn rainbow was. "I'm totally fine. But thank you for checking on me. Appreciate it."

She looked down at the floor and nodded, walking swiftly out. He watched her go, and immediately regretted brushing her off so fast, sighing softly. But there was no way in hell he was going to talk to her right now about went through his head at night. Shit. Shit. Shit. What had she heard?!

Suddenly she turned around and looked strangely at him- he couldn't quite read the look on her face. He met her gaze, feeling his heartbeat quicken slightly.

"Peter…" she said softly. "You are not the only one who lays awake at night- or who is kept up by thoughts of your past. Many things haunt me, but I know now that I may not be alone."

And of course, all he could do was gape at her like a speechless asshole, and watch her go.