As of late, Peter had been feeling noticeably unusual since saving the Galaxy for a second time.
Having had much time to himself away from the other Guardians to accept Yondu's passing – understandably so, given the magnitude of his loss – he had been able to ponder over what his late biological father, Ego, had tried to tempt him with during their time together: Finding meaning.
It had been Ego's obsession to create carbon copies of his planet throughout the Galaxy by planting seedlings on other worlds and waiting for the right moment to unleash their power, but until he had reunited with Peter he had never been powerful enough. The reason for this was that Peter, like his father, had Celestial abilities – meaning that they could control and reshape the Galaxy on a whim, but only if their potentials were combined. Ego had manipulated Peter into providing the extra power he needed to set off a chain reaction of planetary annihilation, which had very nearly succeeded until the Guardians had obliterated the deranged warlord by detonating a custom-made battery bomb in the brain of Ego's planet. This had subsequently destroyed the Celestial abilities within Peter, leaving him normal – which is just the way he wanted to be. But still, he wondered if his purpose didlie within the realm of gods, and he had missed a crucial opportunity.
No. Ego had been wrong. It was impossible now, anyway, Peter thought. He wasn't part god any more since his father was destroyed, and he never would be again.
However, Peter had an unwavering feeling that his real power lay in something superior to rearranging the cosmos as he saw fit, and this feeling would pulsate through his veins like a tangible object. Alone in the Milano's silent kitchen, his mind drifted to his newfound family with whom he had had many spectacular adventures, the Guardians he rubbed shoulders with every day.
There was Drax, the blue humanoid alien with super-strength and a reputation for taking everything literally. There was Rocket, a trigger-happy genetically modified raccoon who was also a fast talker and loved a bet. Then, there was Groot, a sentient tree-like being who, despite being limited to a three-word vocabulary, was knowledgeable and sensitive. And finally…
One stood out in particular. One who seemed to know what he was thinking just through the look on his face, or a glint in his eye. One for whom he had repeatedly risked his life without thought. One who, when they were in close proximity, needed no words; just an unspoken yet mutually acknowledged feeling that gravitated between them and surrounded them like faultless light.
That One was Gamora.
Could she be his true purpose?
Peter was oblivious when Rocket presently sauntered into the room headed for the fridge, almost jumping upon acknowledging the strikingly silent Star-Lord nonchalantly staring at the wall opposite.
"Hey, Quill?" The raccoon enquired in a tense voice while examining the Terran, his conquest of the fridge soon forgotten. Peter suddenly blinked and his mind focused, then he shook his head peculiarly before turning his attention to Rocket before him.
"You OK?" encouraged the furry Guardian with a concerned look. It took Peter a few seconds to find the words to respond.
"Yeah. Yeah, thanks, Rocket" he replied finally, followed by a stretch that was much needed after sitting still for so long.
"Want me to fetch Drax or something so you can talk?" asked Rocket as he observed his comrade, "He's been through a comparable situation to you, so he'll be able to sympathise with your losses." Peter was silent, and the raccoon took it upon himself to haul his small but armour-clad form onto the couch next to where Peter was sitting, still looking a bit confounded. "What's eatin' ya, pal?" He was quite concerned now given Peter's usually buoyant disposition. The Star-Lord knew that, despite Rocket's current solicitude, he would never be able to admit how he felt about Gamora without being mocked. But how did he feel about Gamora? He couldn't make any sense of it himself, but he knew for certain that he'd never been through so much with a woman before, except Meredith…
"I'm all right, buddy," said Peter, offhand and with a sigh. "Just been through a lot recently losing both my dads and stuff. It gets too much sometimes" Rocket looked away, but Peter could see that he was grimacing. He and Yondu had bonded in an unexpected way during their last mission to destroy Ego, when the two of them had been imprisoned on a Ravager ship with Groot and Nebula in tow. The pair had discovered how similar they were and had thus finally felt understood by someone in the Galaxy after being emotionally isolated since creation. Now that short-lived rapture was gone, and Rocket was crushed to say the least. This was part of his steely and apathetic demeanour which had grown ever stronger since Yondu's passing. He suddenly did not want to pursue comforting Peter any longer.
"All righty. Well. Let us know if you need anything" the Guardian said gruffly, hoisting himself off the couch and padding swiftly out of the room, his appetite vanquished. Peter guiltily watched him go. How did he not just confess and avoid upsetting one of his only friends? Surely Rocket wouldn't out him to Gamora, and if he did, she probably wouldn't take him seriously.
Gamora was an undaunted Zen-Whoberian woman who had been trained as a ruthless assassin by her adoptive but murderous father Thanos, and she had turned on him upon learning of his plot to destroy the planet Xandar with Ronan the Accuser as his servant. She had met Peter and his newfound team of Guardians not long after this discovery, and they had seen to it together that Ronan was eliminated and the Galaxy safe once more. Thanos had escaped their grip, however, and was still out there secretly plotting.
Given Gamora's less than conventional upbringing – she was only just beginning to form the foundations of a stable relationship with her own sister, Nebula, due to a bitter rivalry instilled by Thanos from childhood – Peter knew that pursuing her would be a task more difficult than getting Drax to understand what 'in a nutshell' meant. He immediately asserted within himself that he wouldn't take things quickly at all for fear of being literally stopped in his tracks, probably by Gamora's weapon of choice, the Godslayer.
Thinking logically, Peter knew that Gamora must be scarred by her past, to say the least. This meant that she would need to be approached carefully and spoken to clearly, without judgement. Given his experience in past short-lived relationships, he had humorously painful memories of how women reacted when he judged them superficially. However, he recalled that those women had wanted nothing more than a one-night stand and had not ten per cent of the depth that Gamora did. She had substance, intelligence and determination. These qualities helped complete the team of Guardians and helped them defeat enemies of the Galaxy.
The more Peter thought about Gamora, the more he became confident in the idea that she was part of his purpose for existence. This confidence and unspoken attraction to everything about her filled his muscles with strength, and he thrusted himself up off the couch with newfound clarity in his mind. He would seek out the green-skinned creature and state his fascination with her, praying that she would not rebuff him. And if she did, he would take it like a Terran and respect her decision.
Strangely, Peter had to convince himself that she would not reject him; his usual cockiness and conviction that he could not fail was currently absent. Furthermore, his mouth dried when he strode over to the mirror and envisioned Gamora staring back at him with a look of horror and disgust in her deep brown eyes having been approached romantically. This made Peter's heart sink a little, but he bravely kept his chin up and quietly repeated to himself: You are not an idiot. She's bound to find any display of affection hard to handle.
He jumped a little when Drax suddenly appeared at his side with a smirk on his face. Oh, great, thought Peter. Just the person I need to out me to Gamora – and laugh raucously about it too.
"I have never known you to be this infatuated with yourself!" boomed the blue Guardian, a triumphant grin on his face. "You could not resist staring at your reflection for all the units in the Galaxy!" With a hearty laugh, he clapped Peter on the shoulder, almost shoving him face-first into the mirror.
"Drax, now is not the time" Peter laughed, but it was half-hearted. The mighty humanoid seemed to notice.
"You're overthinking something?" he questioned, the humour disappearing from his voice. Peter was wise enough to tell the truth this time.
"Only slightly," he replied, "Now, promise not to laugh, but…" He caught Drax smirking and sighed. "Already? I haven't even begun yet. What kind of team are we if we can't be respectful to one another once in a while? Forget it." He slumped back down onto the couch in semi-defeat, semi-annoyance. This touched a nerve within Drax, and he took Peter by the shoulders, hauling him up to face him. The Star-Lord stared out The Destroyer defiantly.
"Listen, Quill" growled the blue Guardian, "you're not normally like this. You are hardly ever serious and you can understand humour better than anyone. I was only reacting in my normal way. There is no need to have such a…a…" He frowned, evidently trying to convey something he didn't truly understand. "What are those things called on those Terran bombs…?" Peter cast his mind back to his years on Earth. Suddenly, he realised.
"Oh, a short fuse" he provided. The Destroyer nodded keenly and grinned.
"Yes, that's absolutely right" he concurred. Then, he recovered his seriousness and tightened his grip on Peter's shoulders. "If there is something you need to say, then I demand you say it now. We are a team, and we look out for each other." He was almost threatening.
"All right," said Peter, "It's to do with…"
"ROCKET! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING AT?!" came the yell from a female voice laced with fury, drowning out Peter's sentence instantly. In a millisecond, a flash of black, brown and white whizzed past the two Guardians and dived behind the couch, insane laughter following it. Moments later, Gamora burst into the room, Godslayer in hand, puffing with rage.
"Where is he?" she snarled as the two men stared with wide eyes. Neither answered, they were so shocked at how angry she looked. She marched up to them, looking from one face to another. "Well? Where is that furry rat?" Drax snickered quietly and released Peter's shoulders with a carefully rehearsed wink, turning to face Gamora.
"He's in the cockpit, dear Gamora" said he. With a growl, she surveyed the kitchen briefly before turning on her heel and stamping out of the room. As soon as she was out of earshot, the raccoon emerged from behind the couch and burst into fits of laughter.
"Did you see her face!" Rocket gasped, on the brink of tears, "'Where is that furry rat?'" he imitated in a squeaky voice, making Peter smile. He was glad that his companion had gotten over their strained conversation earlier. Come to think of it, this little prank he had pulled on Gamora was probably his method of getting over it. Did that mean Peter had indirectly caused Gamora frustration through lying to Rocket?
"I am Groot" piped up a new voice, as the three Guardians turned to the entrance to the kitchen just in time to witness the tiny brown mass of roots tumble over the raised doorframe which served as an airlock in emergencies.
"Awwww, come on, it was only a bit of fun!" the raccoon chided as he leaned down to right the sentient plant.
"I am Groot" he responded, pulling his meanest scowl, which pitifully failed due to his cuteness.
"No, I'm not apologising!" cried Rocket, dwarfing the baby from his great height of three feet. He picked Groot up in order to speak to him face to face. "So, she was talking in her sleep and I recorded it on Star-Lord's music thingy. It's nothing compared to tricks I've played in the past!" He began cackling once again as he reminisced about the theft of a Ravager's glass eye during their last mission. It was in no way relevant to completing the Guardians' mission, Rocket just revelled in the ensuing catastrophe when the Ravager awoke the next day unable to locate his missing eyeball.
Meanwhile, Peter was on a different train of thought. Gamora was talking in her sleep? Rocket recorded it on my Walkman? How? He spoke up.
"Rocket? If I may just interrupt your maniacal rumination…" The raccoon returned to the present and quietened down. "Where is my Walkman, how did you record Gamora on it, and what could she have said to make her so furious with you?"
"Well, your thing is under your pillow, just waiting to be listened to…It'll become obvious what she was talking about as soon as you…you…" he broke off, tears flowing from his eyes as he gasped and collapsed in a heap of convulsive laughter once more. Peter was confused, and now a little worried. The only way you could use the Walkman for recording something was if there was a tape in there. Which there was, the last time he checked – Awesome Mix Vol. 2, Meredith's final gift to him before she had passed away…
"ROCKET!" Peter suddenly yelled, making everyone jump. The little Groot squeaked and leapt out of Rocket's arms, tears running down his trunk as he scrambled behind Drax's muscular calf.
"Hey! What the hell…?!" roared the raccoon, glaring at Peter with his teeth bared. Peter's veins were throbbing in his temples as he reached for his Element Gun in his belt. Drax saw a fight brewing and stepped between them instantly, not wanting his friends to rip each other's throats out over a seemingly unimportant matter. The involvement of the 680-pound Destroyer barely hindered Peter as he bellowed:
"DID YOU RECORD GAMORA SLEEPTALKING OVER THE LAST TAPE MY MOTHER GAVE ME?!"
Drax understood now and scowled at the raccoon, who was anxiously backing away from them both, paws raised. The muffled sounds of Groot wailing behind Drax intensified, and Rocket began to stammer:
"Quill! I didn't know! I thought it was a clean tape! You know how Terran items confuse me! You…AAGH!" The raccoon shrieked as two shots from Peter's Element Gun minutely whizzed past him. "I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" He cried, as three more plasma bolts graced his thin fur. "It wasn't a long recording! Please! I doubt anything major has been taped over!"
He was now leaping from wall to wall to dodge the barrage of gunfire that Peter was shooting at him like a crazed criminal. NOT THE LAST GIFT FROM MY MOTHER! Was all that span round in his mind like a tornado as he clamped his finger down on the Element's trigger and targeted Rocket like a heat-seeking missile. He would have succeeded in injuring him too, had Drax not wrestled with his arm and ruined his perfect aim.
After what seemed like an eternity of struggling in the life-or-death situation, Drax managed to tackle Peter to the floor and stop him shooting. Rocket and Groot, breathless and petrified, ran from the kitchen as fast as their limbs could carry them. There was no doubt that the raccoon would never forgive himself for this. GOOD, thought Peter, before furiously struggling against Drax's insistent authority. When he knew the youth would not chase after the raccoon, Drax slowly released Peter and looked mournfully into his eyes.
"I am sorry, Quill," he said.
"Just what I needed" seethed Peter, "I've lost all of my true family now" he said, pacing up and down before collapsing on the couch and trying to hold back the tears. He buried his face into a grubby cushion there and roared. Drax was quietly bruised by Peter's ignorance of the family he had around him who were still living and breathing. Nevertheless, he understood his friend's present suffering and let him get on with it non-judgementally.