Chapter 4

AN: Hey everyone thank you so much for the reviews and the encouragement! Sorry I have not updated in a while, I've been so busy. Just a couple of notes before you read the chapters.

1. In chapter 1, J'son stated that there was five infinity stones. This was a mistake, there are actually six stones. Sorry for the confusion, I'll find a way to fix it in the next chapter.

2. Ok, yes King J'son is emotional over his lost son, but he is not pathetic. Just because the King is a bit sappy does not make him anything less of a man. This MY story and if I want make King J'son a good father and have a little bit of fluff in MY story, I will. If you do not like it DO NOT READ IT, write your own story and stop leaving hateful reviews and private messages.

Even with the blanket, Peter was still shaking from the cold chill in the cockpit. His legs twitched and gave small kicks. His fingers clutched the arm rest, his knuckles white. His closed eyes darted back and forth underneath his eyelids as he struggled to escape his dream, his former reality.

The last rays of sun shine were gleaming through the open kitchen window, light reflecting off of golden hair. The sound of a knife chopping echoed through the small kitchen as Meredith Quill stood preparing dinner. Tired and tense from working at the diner all day long, her hair was pulled back but small strains cover fell into her face. Her face pale and her eyes dark, she had an air of suffering surrounding her. But still she persisted on with a smile, a smile that those last rays of bright sunshine could not compete with.

A six year old Peter sat at the small kitchen table, scribbling in his math notebook. He looked up at his tired mom, she was humming to the tune of "Hey Jude." That was one of her favorite songs. He turned back down to his homework, maybe he thought if he got done quick enough he could play outside before it got to dark. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of coughing coming from the kitchen. He looked up and saw his mom holding her arm to her mouth to cover the dry, pain full sounding cough.

"I'm OK baby," she said her voice dry, "just some dust in my thru..."

Another coughing fit hit her, racking her body violently. The knife that she was holding clattered to the floor as she grasped the counter to hold herself up. Dropping his homework, Peter sprang up from the table over to his mother's side. He reached up and rubbed her back as she did whenever he was sick. He watched helplessly as his mother started coughing up blood and sank to the ground.

"Peter," she rasped out between coughs. Still in shock of seeing his strong mother so sick, Peter stood there scared and unsure.

"Peter," she rasped out reaching a bloody hand towards him.

"PETER!"

Peter woke up with jolt, gasping for air as he tried to shake himself out of the memory. He struggled as he tried to stand up from the pilots chair, legs tangled in the blanket.

"Wow; calm down there big guy," he heard Rocket say from the passenger seat, "it was just a dream."

Chest heaving, Quill ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the rogue ends. That was the day they found out she was sick, that was the last time the sun shined for him. He haven't thought about that in a while, but occasionally it will work it's way into his mind.

"Peter," Rocket repeated again, this time a hint of concern in his voice.

"What's wrong," Peter asked, mind and body finally under control.

"We're just outside of Knowwhere," Rocket said taking over the co-pilot system. "I'll bring us in if you want to go down and wake up the rest."

"Deal," Quill said after a minute of processing what was said.

"Hey we also got 37 missed calls," Rocket said swiping at the transmitter screen.

"From who," asked a puzzled Quill making his way down the hatch.

"Uhh...15 from Nova Prime herself and another 18 from a Spartox ship," Rocket replied with confusion as scrolled through the calls. "Do you know anyone from Spartox?"

"Uh once about 10 years ago I meet with a trader," Quill asked halfway down the hatch, "but it didn't go very well."

"Should we call them back," Rocket yelled after the human.

"LATER," he yelled back from down the hatch, "let's not stay here longer then we need to."

"Wow we really did a number on this place," said Rocket as they walked through the damaged and abandoned streets.

Since the battle between the Kree ships and their mining pods, occupants left in waves. Uncertainty about whether another attack would happen caused a mass exodus of scared miners and wanted outlaws. Several building were still smoulding from the Kree ships falling from the air. Debris and left belongings littered the street and half of the city was still without power. Despite this a few remain, those who had no where else to go or did not have the means to leave.

"What do you think happened to the children," Drax asked looking around for the street orphans, "do you think they got out OK?"

"Street kids are smart and resourceful," Peter replied. For a minute he almost forgot that Drax was a father, or was one anyway. "I'm sure they hitched a ride out."

"Do you think Groot will be alright on the ship," Rocket asked. Ater watering him, they left in a cup board will a small sun lamp with Awesome Mix Tape #2 playing in the background.

"We locked the ship, Rocket," Gamora reassured, "plus he's not ready to leave the pot yet. I highly doubt he will get into any trouble."

The sound of a light blowing a fuse behind them startled them, causing them all to reach for their weapons. Scanning the street they found no threats.

"This place gives me the creeps," Rocket said holding tightly to his blaster. It was not the somewhat cheerful place for a bunch of rogues like themselves. But a ghost town inside of a dead god's head.

"Come on, it's not much farther up," said Quill holstering his gun.

Soon they come upon the opening of the bar that held the entrance to The Collector's home. Instead of the bright neon lights and crowded doorways filled with bar goers they were meet with shattered glass and debris from Rocket's pod that he landed there previously.

"After the explosion, whatever was in those cages got out," Gamora said taking her sword from her belt. In turn everyone did the same.

They walked through the deserted bar where only a few days ago Drax, Groot and Rocket had gotten into a fight. Peter looked over to the balcony where Gamora and he kissed. Well almost kissed. He made a mental note to check and see if she had any knives before trying that again.

"Our redecorating only improved the place," Rocket quipped.

"Guys maybe you should let me do the talking," Quill said taking the lead as they entered the collection.

Looking around, there was no signs of the Collector or thankfully the Collection. Glass from the aquariums were scattered everywhere, but luckily there were no signs their inhabitants. They walked into center of the room, next to the damaged table that once held the infinity stone. Gamora went over to the control tablets and began swiping through the files.

"Maybe there is something on here on where the stones are," she said Drax looking over her shoulder.

"If we find one we should use it on Thanos before we sell it," the Destroyer said, hand gripping his knife.

Peter and Rocket began sifting through the rubble. Rocket looking for valuables, Peter looking for life. He had hoped to find the Collector's previous servent alive and well. He had seen her, chained up in the glass box. He remembered being in the dark, small room that Yondu had kept him in when he was abducted. He didn't know how long he spent in that cell, but he knew it was a fate no one deserved.

"What kind of a jackass puts creatures in cages," Rocket asked sniffing the air as a familiar scent filled the air.

"The same type that lets them free," they heard a voice say from the balcony above them.

Looking up they saw the Collector, bandaged and bloody. Leaning forward over railing, he held a drink in his hand. He was in the same outfit they had last seen him in, still dirty from the explosive debris.

"Ah Collector, you look...well," Peter said taking in the broke man's appearance.

"Come to destroy more of my home," he retorted taking a sip of his drink.

"To help rebuild actually," Quill responded.

The Collector paused for a moment looking over the rag tag team of outlaws. He had heard the reports from Xander. Although he was happy to have Ronin off of his doorstep, he regretted the loss of that beautiful stone.

"And how exactly would you help me," the Collector said moving along the balcony to the metal spiral staircase.

"We held up our end of the bargain," Gamora responded, "it's not our fault you can't control your staff."

"I guess that is true," the Collector said with a sigh walking down the stairs towards the group, "you did succeed in bringing me something that many have failed to in the past."

"And we can do it again," Peter said moving to stand taller at the Collector stood in front of him, "just tell us where."

"I can't help but wonder Mr.. Quill," he said observing him, taking in the former Ravager. "why so eager to be in my employment."

"Not employment per se," Quill retorted, "more of a limited contract. You provide information exclusively to us and we will provide you the remaining stones."

"Remaining stones," pondered the Collector.

"With a price of course," Peter add.

"Of course," the Collector said through a smile.

There was silence in the room, as everyone waited with bated breath on the Collectors decision. If they were refused, Peter had no idea on what they would do next.

They heard a low chuckle coming from the Collector which turned into a full on hearty laugh.

"If you COULD get me one of the stones I would pay you not 4 billion but 10 billion units," he gasped out through laughs.

"What, you prick? You think we can't get them," asked an offended Rocket, "there's nothing I can't get."

"Just tell us where one of them is and then we will tell you if we can get it," Peter said patience wearing thin.

"Oh Mr.. Quill, you are either going to have to go home or...go Home," the Collector answer cryptically, moving to the screen tablet and swiping over the screen.

"There's one on Earth?" asked Peter with alarm.

"Mr.. Quill I have known Yondu for almost 30 years," the Collector muttered, "and a long time ago he tried to sell me something for my collection."

But the taunt fell on deaf ears, the only thing that was on Peter's mind was the safety of his home...his mother's home. He moved closer to the Collector so he was only inches from his face.

"IS...THERE...A...STONE...ON...EARTH," demanded Peter through gritted teeth.

"Peter...easy," Gamora whispered putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. After a few tense seconds, the Collector responded.

"What did Yondu try to sell you," Gamora asked, but her question was ignored.

"Yes for many years now," the Collector said eyes Turing to the screen again, "but that one is relatively harmless to the three in King J'son vaults." Swiping the screen one last time, a panel of images popped up around them.

"Many generation before you were born, the Empire of Spartox began collecting the stones," the Collector said pointing to the holograph of three stones. One yellow, one red and one green sitting in a black fitting holder, a coat of arms engraved above it.

"King J'son promised that they would not be used without the consent of the entire Galactic Counsel," he continued pointing to the photo of an man. The King looked to be in his early 50's and a worn warrior. He was wearing a blue military uniform and a red sash, it reminded Peter of what Sea Captain form used to wear in movies.

Gamora stared at the image. She have never meet the King before but there was something familiar about his reddish-brown hair and playful face that she couldn't shake.

"That only accounts for five," Drax spoke up, "where is the sixth?"

"I don't care about the ones in King what's-his-face vaults," Peter barked, shoulders rigid and stance defensive, "what information do you about the one on Terrian?"

"Relax Mr.. Quill," the Collector whispered with a bone chilling smile, "I sent the records to your ship."

Silence filled the room and the Collector realized his mistake.

"How did you know which ship is ours," Peter asked, suspicion slowly creeping in his mind. Peter knew this conversation was going too much in their favor. The Collector was stalling them. Rocket was right, they walked into this blind.

A sense of tension filled the room. The hair on the back of his neck stood on edge. He could see Drax's hands hover over his knives, and Gamora take a defensive stance. He heard a sniffling sound and felt Rocket tug on his pants leg.

"Quill, we should get back to the ship," the raccoon whispered, "I think I smell..."

"AHHHHHHHH," Drax's scream of pain erupted through the air, a gold arrow shooting out of his left thigh.

As the arrow zoomed away, Peter grabbed his gun but he knew chances between him and the owner of the arrow were slim. His hand reached for Drax's shoulder and position himself in front of him.

"DRAX," Gamora yelled kneeling down in front of her friend. Rocket went to grab for his gun but stopped mid way as the arrow came back and hovered in front of his muzzle. Letting go of his gun he raised his hand up to surrender.

"Well, well, well boy, " they heard Yondu say from the entrance. Ten Ravagers and their leader strolled in the Collector's home, guns drawn. "I never expected you to end up back here. Quill if you only knew..."

"Yondu listen, they had nothing to do with it," Peter said putting away his gun and holding up his hands.

Two Ravagers moved behind him and yanked his arms around his back. Yondu remained silent as he slowly walked up to Quill. A sense of De ja'vu hit him as only a few days ago this is were Gamora and he ended up. Peter braced for the punch but it never came instead a low chuckle came from Yandu's throat along with a smirk. The kind of smirk that Peter grew up with. The kind of smirk that meant, Yondu knew something that he didn't. Quill in his uncertainty and nervousness, smiled and chuckled back.

"Man look at the mess you made here," Yondu said looking around at the scattered aquariums, smirk growing wider into a smile. "You know I may not have had to stop these boys from eating you if I would have taken you here in the first place. Lock you up in one of these cages."

Confusion and concern hit Quill, he didn't know where Yondu was going with this and he didn't like it. He spared a glance at the wounded Drax, Gamora was trying her hardest to put pressure on the wound but blood was slipping through her fingers like stones over water. Rocket's muzzle was only millimeters away from Yondu's golden arrow. They needed get out. Now.

"We don't have the stone," Peter said meeting the smirking man's gaze, "the Nova Corps sent it to another base. They're is no way you are getting it this time."

"We don't care about no stone no more, do we boys?" said Yondu. A chorus of no's and shaking heads followed from the Ravagers.

"What do want then," Quill asked, mind immediately going to Gamora. Thanos had put a bounty on her, that no outlaw in the Galaxy including himself, could match.

"It's not what I want boy," Yondu replied.

"It's what I want," finished the Collector as he came and stood next to Yondu staring intently at Peter Quill.

Much like when he was free floating in space, Peter went cold and his breath was taken from him. The numbers added up and the pieces of the puzzles came together. He was just cargo to them.

"You were going to sell him to the Collector," Rocket growled out through clenched teeth.

"How can I pass up such as blood line," said the Collector circling Peter like a vulture to a carcass, "although it is 26 years late."

"You son of a bitch," Peter whispered. A soft whistle sounded through the air and the arrow flew back over to Peter rest inches from his heart. Peter didn't react. The Guardians could not react either, whether from pain or shock, they had no choice but to watch their friend be bought and sold.

"I must say Mr. Quill when you walked in here, not in my wildest dream would I have thought you would have been more, more...valuable then a walking tree," the Collector said. Peter glared back at the madman, at the slave owner. "What took you so long?"

"He was more valuable to use outside of the cage," Yondu replied. There was a look in his eyes, Peter could see it. It wasn't reget or guilt. It wasn't hatred or love. It was respect. Because over the years, Peter earned his. "But now he's as useful as broken wings. You can have him."

"Shall we negotiate a price then?," The Collector asked turning to Yondu.

"Wait," the half-human demanded. "Just tell me why. Why did you take me? Why didn't you give me to him twenty-six years ago? Why now?," Peter asked gesturing to the Collector. "Why did you raise me and become my family?," Peter wanted to continue, but words couldn't leave his tongue.

There was a pause as everyone including the Collector waited with for the answer. But instead of the justification, Yondu let out a short whistle and the arrow rose to Peter's eyes.

"Boy this may come as a shock to you, but all I done was to protect you," Yondu replied with genuine grief, "including this."

Simultaneity as Yondu pursed his lips to let out a high pitched whistle, a knife flew out of the darkness hitting the arrow. Spinning through the air the knife pin the arrow to the side wall, making Peter the first target the arrow has ever missed.

"Yes, Yondu Udonta," they heard a booming, deep voice say from the darkness, "tell us how taking him from his family and selling him like cattle is keeping his safe."

Loud, heavy and determined footsteps rang through the room as J'son, King of Spartox and father to Peter Quill stepped into the room and into the light.

"Tell him how his father trusted you," J'son said phaser rifle pointed at the Captain of the Ravagers, "tell him how you took my son away."