A/N: Hey, everyone. If you haven't read "Path", you'll have little idea about what this story focuses on. Or who Thera Moore is. So. Keep that in mind, lol.
Thera and any other OCs that are mentioned are mine. They belong in the "Paths" Universe.
Chapter 01 - Take Off
Deep in the woods of New York's Central Park, Samuel Alexander eyed the familiar contours of The Milano. Its near seventy-foot wingspan hardly fit within the clearing Star Lord had deemed safe to land, and the damages it sustained before its last trip to Earth were no longer visable. This gave the yellow and blue decal work along the slick surface a sort of radiant glow when it reflected the rays of the setting sun, but its enchantment was crushed under Sam's reason for boarding it.
"Took ya long enough, Kid," a gruff voice snapped.
Sam blinked behind his Nova helmet, drawing his attention to the Raccoon-like being that stood at the edge of the Milano's stern ramp. "What can I say?" he shot back while flying forward. "I got caught up with something."
"If ya ran into some action, ya should'a called," Rocket said as they ascended the ramp. A notorious smirk tugged at his snout when he rested his laser gun's barrel on his shoulder guard.
"I wouldn't call it action," said Sam lowly. Still, he smiled at the indifferent shrug Rocket gave then landed beside Gamora in the hull just as the hydraulic whirls of the ramp signaled its closing.
"Evening, Sam," the green-skinned warrior greeted. There was little emotion in her expression or voice, yet the tinge of contentment he learned to detect after years of tutorage lead the Hispanic to believe she was happy he had come.
Knowing this made him smile. "Evening, Master Gamora."
"You are late."
"So I've heard."
The Zen Whoberian huffed then crossed her toned arms. "Quill was ready to leave you."
"He wouldn't do that," Sam said over the increasing hum of the engines. They had started the moment the Nova hero stepped foot inside The Milano—a sure sign that its captain had been ready for takeoff long before his arrival.
"We have been very busy with Chitauri, Sam," said Gomora, now solemn. "Answering your call—"
"Meant going out of your way. I know, alright? But"—Sam sighed—"I needed some time…with you guys."
"Bah!" Rocket's four-foot figure passed between Gamora and his ex-student. "If we get to shoot things together, I'm cool. Right, Kid?"
Sam laughed. "Right."
"We have no current mission other than to replace our thrusters," Gamora told Rocket.
"What's wrong with the thrusters?"
As if in direct answer to Sam's question, The Milano groaned, sputtered, then shook like a backfiring car. Its tremble uprooted Sam's feet from the metallic floor as the pitiful thrusters raised the starship higher and the Hispanic tripped backwards when it tilted up prematurely. The gravity that pushed his body against the back wall was fierce, yet its pressure wasn't alien. He knew not to fight it nor climb over the bodies of Gamora and Rocket at his sides.
"Would it kill ya to ask if we're ready for takeoff, Quill?" Rocket cried as they broke through Earth's atmosphere.
The pressure lasted a moment longer then evened, settling into a common motion that Sam felt completely natural in. "Geez, that was a little rough," the teen noted when he and the Guardians landed on their knees.
"Damn fool's gunna break the patch-job I did in Deo," Rocket spat. He rose to his paws quicker than the others then darted towards the engine room behind a welded ladder ahead, adding, "I'll meet you two in the cockpit later; once I've seen what damage our so-called leader's done."
Sam tore his attention away from the engine room's door to Gamora. "Why would you be in Deo? The place is a desert."
"Not much choice when your engines cut out," the woman countered coolly.
"Again? Don't tell me Master Rocket's skills have been slipping."
A faint trace of humor graced Gamora's dark green lips and when she passed Sam, she touched his shoulder. "Titus was responsible for the damage we sustained last month. The Omnium Generator is working perfectly; however—"
"The thrusters are failing due to age. Deo was an emergency stop, like Earth."
"Yes."
Sam caught The Zen Whoberian's quirked lips, certain of its prideful message in having trained him. He followed her to the ladder, flew through the round, open door above and then waited for Gamora to join him on the upper-level cabin. Once the duo reached the air-tight door beyond the mess Star Lord called home, Gamora punched the button that opened it. With a hiss, it did as told and allowed her and Sam to enter the cockpit prior to snapping shut.
"Did you brace yourselves?" Star Lord asked—a teasing gesture.
"Yeah, with our asses," Sam answered. Approaching the cockpit's front, he glared mildly at the blue visor helmet used to shield most of the leader's face then sunk into the copilot seat.
Star Lord smiled at the controls, chuckling. "Hanging 'round this crew, you should know how to keep on your feet, Nova."
"Well, we shouldn't have to keep our guard up around friends. So where are we heading? Beta? Cron? I know we aren't exactly welcomed on either planet, but I'm sure Rocket and I could break out with no effort."
"Actually, we're exercising a more civil route this time." Star Lord's calm tone deflated the puff in Sam's chest and drew down the hand he punched into his open palm.
"Really?"
"We're in route for Krylor. Rocket has an underground connection from a past prison break that can get us up-to-date thrusters. At a steep cost."
"But Krylorians are, like, the tech people. It'll totally be worth the price! I mean, I could still beat The Milano in a race, but it'd be kind'a close."
"Kind'a close?" The older man snorted. "Wait until my baby gets her upgrades. Then you'll see."
It was a joke of course; Star Lord knew Sam could break the sound barrier. But Sam showed his acceptance with a smirk before leaning back in his seat, gaze set on the passing stars.
He realized he missed such light jesting from his old team. It's not something his new team lacked; it just held a different weight when surrounded by the people who trained him, offered him direction, inspired him. They were his heroes, his reason for training under SHIELD.
And after the incident with Titus, he needed to speak with them.
"Gamora"—Star Lord's authoritative voice brought Sam's attention sideways—"could you find Drax and Rocket? Dinner's soon."
The green-skinned woman made a face, turning on a heel. "Graced with yet another of Quill's culinary marvels. We should be so lucky."
"Hey, now!" Star Lord yelled over his shoulder. "This isn't like the pudding pops! Or the frozen burritos."
"I can cook," Sam said as the door sealed Gamora from the cockpit.
"You can bake."
"Which is better than Drax's space road-kill, Rocket's pellets, and any unmentionables Groot and Gamora come up with."
"True…Fine. Take a gander in the kitchen, see what's there. Lord knows if I get any more complaints, I'll vow to have everyone eat out. And they're responsible for their own expenses."
Sam sniggered. He could just picture the Guardians sitting in an Earth restaurant, totally out of place, and the power of it forced him back in his seat.
"Speaking of responsibility, Nova, why were you so late?"
Sam's humor dried up as the question settled in. His grin died, his head dropping.
What should he say? The truth?
The truth was this: he had better luck keeping a low-key with his team than with Thera Moore.
A subtle call to Director Fury had kept SHIELD off his back when he hailed Star Lord, and the others were well preoccupied. Peter was busy easing over his flakiness with Harry and Mary-Jane, while Ava studied for various tests. Danny and Luke planned to spend time with Zeelan, so this gave the Hispanic enough leeway for the weekend.
Or so he had thought…
"Oh, come on, Nova!" Fin's Dakotan voice carried over the rooftops.
She had followed the hero with surprising agility, and something within Sam wouldn't abandon her—though he could do so easily to reach the meeting point he had set up with Star Lord.
"I'll be back before you return to Charlotte," Sam replied from the evening sky. A glance down revealed the mutant's intense gaze. Her orange eyes always caught the Hispanic off guard, so he was thankful his helmet hid his expression.
"We haven't seen each other in almost two months," the slender heroine said when Sam lowered his body near the ledge she perched on.
"We'll catch up Sunday."
"Sunday night. One night isn't enough to cover what I wanna know."
"And what do you want to know, Fin?" questioned Sam. Brow quirked beneath his helmet, he crossed his arms while the redhead groaned.
"What kind of question is that?" she asked.
"Just return to the Triskelion. I need this weekend to sort out some…things."
"Maybe I can help." Fin fiddled with the protruding plates along her flared arm protectors. Their thin edges consisted of an Adamantium-mix, Sam knew, and the dense scales along the tanned teen's fingertips are what kept the metal from injuring her.
"Sorry, Thera. I've had a lot on my mind."
"And I can't possibly help, right?" Fin's lips twisted into a lopsided smile as she made even eye contact with the hero. When she did, Sam tensed, struck by the amount of hurt in her expression.
"I—"
Fin glared. "Like to make excuses. Didn't we agree not to do that anymore? Months ago, we promised we'd be better people than the ones who were taken by Collier. I—I've taken the path to put my powers to good use, but I haven't heard anything from you. I mean"—the scaly teen scoffed—"why didn't you call when you got your power up? You went from a Denarian to a Centurion. Th—that's big."
Sam gave a brusque sigh. "It wasn't something worth announcing."
"Since when do you not like to gloat?"
"As awesome as I am, I'm also busy."
"Oh, I see. Too busy for lowly green heroes like me then."
"Thera, I didn't mean—"
Fin held up a webbed hand, her Wid-Western accent growing deeper. "You know what, Sam? I can handle learning through the media that Spider-Man joined the Avengers for a time. I can handle local clowns in Charlotte like Sidestep and The Snatcher. I can even handle the belated knowledge that a new SHIELD team has been in the works for the past few months. What I can't handle is someone not living up to their promises."
"I never promised to tell you everything."
"This isn't about knowing everything!" While Fin maintained a glare, the shakes in her slender body added to the pain behind her glistening eyes.
"Then what is it about?" Sam asked, softer.
"Our friendship."
The whisper sent rigidness through Sam's bones, silencing him as the mutant continued.
"I was so glad we survived Collier's lab together. I—I honestly thought we could start a new chapter in our lives—not as enemies, but as friends. We talked. For a while. Until I asked about your meeting with the Yoon-Beas. Why?"
Sam could give no real answer without revealing things he'd rather keep hidden, so the hero steeled himself, rising from the building ledge. "I might be able to tell you when I get back. I'm sorry, Thera…I really gotta go. I'll see you later."
Sam had flown off without glancing back. He needed a chance to calm himself by circling the park a few times before arriving at The Milano. Now that the distraction had passed, he grimaced at the resurgence of dread in his stomach.
"Sam? You okay?"
Organs churning, Sam faced Star Lord. The auburn-haired man had removed his helmet, leaving his rugged features to scrunch in concern. Doing so made him look older than mid-thirties, but the matter went unnoted as the teen asked,
"Have you ever done something really bad to someone when you didn't mean it?"
"Is that a trick question? I mean, come on. I once told an Interdite she was lovely to get away with swiping something from Yandu. I didn't mean it. And she turned out to be a he. Talk about awkward."
"I'm being serious," Sam spat, eyes thinning.
The heat behind them eased Star Lord's expression until it turned stoic. "What's going on, Sam? Does this have something to do with why you called?"
The Hispanic dropped his vision, silent.
"It does then."
"You guys have a lot to handle," Sam added. "I knew I had to tag along if I was gunna…"
"Get face time with us?"
"Pretty much."
"You chose to be the Guardian of Earth. Why come to us?"
"Because I—" Sam held his breath then released it once he made eye contact with the man beside him. "You guys have more experience with this and, honestly? I'm kind'a ashamed to talk about it with my team."
"Ashamed?"
Sam longed to duck his head away from Star Lord's inquiring gaze, except lessons from Gamora kept it raised, like the strong warrior he was. "Back in May, I was reckless. Got caught up in a fight."
"Now how's that bad?" said Star Lord while crossing his arms. Under normal circumstances, Sam would agree. But these circumstance weren't normal, so he grimaced.
"It's bad because I got someone hurt!" Sam slapped a hand against the control panel. It beeped as the teen forced down a lump in his throat, and Star Lord reeled. "While I love the adrenaline rush and praise and challenge, my goal's always been to be a hero. Because at the core that's what the Guardians are. It's what Master Rocket and Master Gamora taught me. And I—I got carried away."
"Sometimes, to learn important lessons, we must make mistakes," Star Lord said after a short pause.
"This was more than a mistake."
"We all have regrets, Sam."
"You aren't getting it!" Jaw clenched, Sam rose from the copilot seat to stare down the leader. "I almost killed a couple, Quill. All because I lost myself. I didn't want to admit it, but…it was my fault. I should've been more careful. I should've found a way to contain Trickster, before he could affect me. I can't help imaging what would've happened if Animus weren't there to save them. If they had…"
"How badly were they injured?" Star Lord asked.
Sam's head grew heavy when he recalled the report. "The man sustained only a broken wrist, but his wife? She won't ever walk again and…apparently, she'd been pregnant. Before the incident."
"Sam—"
Clank. Hiss!
The cockpit door opened, a chorus of loud voices overcoming any words Star Lord attempted. Sam sighed at the apologetic grin he received, yet followed the older man's lead until he spotted Gamora, Rocket, and Drax—who all forced a figure ahead of them as they approached.
"I caught a stowaway in the engine room," Rocket remarked with his laser gun poised.
Likewise, Drax adopted a battle stance, his large chest rumbling with a growl.
"She claims to be a friend of Sam's," said Gamora—an unsure action.
The cloaked figure backpedaled from the green woman's glare until he met Star Lord's form. The space hero wasted no time in pushing back the figure's hood with a hand. When he did, Sam's eyes widened and he sputtered,
"Thera?"