If you find medical errors in this chapter please leave them be. I know they're there and I'll get to them as soon as I'm not too busy.
Disclaimer: I do not own GOTG
"The canter is a cure for every evil."
― Benjamin Disraeli
-Disraeli-
[18:03 – Mon. – SY: XXXX]
[Xandar – Trepan Hospital – Recovery Wing – Room 304]
[Peter]
It was quiet.
And not like the bad, deathly kind of quiet.
It wasn't silent.
Peter could hear the distinct sound of something humming off to his right. He could hear the sounds of pages turning to his left. He could hear the soft mumbles of one familiar tree creature to his right. He could hear the distinct patter of rain against a window.
There was a sigh. There was the crinkle of pages, the rustle of clothing, the sound of a throat being cleared.
Feeling himself being drawn back the light Peter shifted and filled himself with a deeply contented sigh, pushing his head back into the pillow.
For the first time in over a week he felt comfortable. Even more important; he didn't hurt anymore. He wasn't cold, his pelvis had only the most distant of tingling buried within it, and he couldn't feel anything along his lower back. It was a little difficult, he found, to think properly. It was like trying to walk in a straight line when you were drunk to high heaven, yet at the same time you felt more lucid than you would have been drunk.
So waking felt kind of like pulling layers and layers of spider webs off his face. With the disposal of each coating he was just a little more aware.
After the first, he became aware of the softness beneath him. He learned of the tug on his arm when he straightened and flexed what muscle remained, signaling the presence of an IV. He identified the soft covering he had lain across his unmoving body as bed sheets.
Then the second peeled away and he became more aware of the smells around him. They had the sharpness of something sterile, the sweet and sour tang of medicine. For a moment he thought he smelt what could have been dirt and rust but he quickly wrote it off as a part of lingering delirium.
Of course the third came off a little sticky, making him wonder why the hell he had this dumb, weird taste of rubber on his tongue. His throat felt dry and his tongue like sandpaper. In the puzzle of strange palates he came across something earthly. He swallowed and wrote it off, trying not to picture Groot shoving weird things into his mouth while he slept.
Expectedly, he came across the sounds from earlier with a little more clarity hidden beneath the fourth web. The blond could hear the definite sounds of life from beside him; breathing, a snort, and the shift of clothing. He could hear the crackle of wood swaying, the sound a comfortable lull beside the familiar tapping of rainfall.
Before he could peel off the last layer, he hesitated, sighed, and wondered if he wanted to face whatever delirious reality his brain had concocted for him.
"You awake, boy?" a familiar voice rasped beside him.
Inwardly Peter cringed. Outwardly he stilled. He kept his breathing steady and tried to appear as though he was still totally out.
"Wake up!" Something gave the bed a firm kick, causing it to shudder and rattle violently. The vibration shook through him, buried into wounds he had somehow forgotten he'd had and buzzed through his bones.
"Gah- fuck, what the hell?!" he gasped, coming to life. The fifth web forcefully yanked from off his eyes, Peter was left temporarily blinded. Lifting both arms he pressed his palms into his eye sockets and groaned, "sonuvabitch!"
"About bloody time, son," Yondu rumbled, "Was gettin' pretty damn tired of waiting for yar lazy ass to wake up."
Oh for fucks sake, inwardly Peter felt like crying. Where was he, why was Yondu here, what kind of debt did he have to pay off now?
"God, Yondu, what the hell?" he groaned, dropping one arm and combing his other hand through unruly locks.
"'What the hell' yourself, brat," the old Centaurian shot back. Peter opened his eyes again and found himself staring at the ugly mug one very upset Yondu Udonta, "I knew your race was pathetic but this is just embarrassing."
"Oh great," the reputable StarLord began sarcastically, "first thing I get back to is criticism. You are aware that I almost died right?" Because if he was still dying with the way he felt right now then he'd be very surprised indeed. Yondu snorted and returned his attention to what looked like a porn mag.
"Sure as shit wouldn'ta been the first time, boy," the Centaurian dismissed.
Glaring at his elder with half lidded eyes Peter let his right hand sink over his right eye and rest there. He was just beginning to wonder where his crew had run off to when-
"I am Groot."
Surprise filled him as he jerked his head to the right, removing his hand, to find Groot doing a little wiggly dance on the night table. He was sitting on the lip of his pot, little legs swinging back and forth and arms in the air.
"Groot!" he smiled, "Hey bud, how are you doing?"
"I am Groot!"
…
"Of course," Peter grimaced when he realized the team translator wasn't in the area.
"Get that dumb thing to shuddap, will yer?" Yondu rasped, flipping to the next page of his magazine.
The blond dealt him a glare and let Groot be.
Instead, he turned his attention to the hospital room he was in. This one was much better than the last; the floor and walls were clean, the sheets resting over him had been washed recently- judging from the smell and texture- and the room was well lit. He spared a glance over Yondu's shoulder to see a round port window built into the wall, heavy droplets of rain falling on the other side.
"Where the hell am I?" he asked.
"Xandar," his former boss was getting impatient, "Now shut yewr mouth and go back ta sleep, boy. I'm tryin'a read."
Incredulity spread across Peter's face and his voice raised its pitch, "You just woke me up! What the hell are you telling me to back to sleep for?!"
But Yondu just kicked the bed again, immediately shushing the boy he'd raised – well mostly, he spurred a light coughing fit.
"Put yarself back together already, this is ridiculous." The Centaurian ignored the menacing vines that spread out of Groot's hands. If Peter had been sitting up he would have been swaying when he finished his battle for air.
Panting, the blond splayed a hand across his chest. Seems he wasn't as 100% as he felt. No, now he felt like he'd run a marathon, wrestled with Drax, and torn through the entire Spartax empire all in quick succession. Drowsiness came upon him like a slow turtle-spider from the Quartex Territories, spinning its web back over each sense.
"Oh, what the hell," he said breathlessly, weakness swallowing him up. A trickle of sweat ran down his temple as he settled. He swallowed thickly, a flash of pain to the left of his throat catching his attention. Peter tried to lift an arm and feel for a wound, as it simply felt like there was something there causing him blood loss, but a rough, calloused grip caught his forearm and forced it back down.
"Settle down, son," Yondu barked, "I spent a wealth of time and energy on yew these past few days, I ain't about to let yew ruin all that work."
A weak scoff, or maybe it was a cough, came out of Peter's throat and Groot hummed beside him, the crackle of his movements signaling a shift in his posture. It took a little more effort than he knew it should have to turn his head and watch the growing sapling open his arms, crane his head back, and close his eyes. He would have asked the little guy what he was doing but if he'd learned one thing about Groot in the time that they'd been living together it was that he never got the explanation he was looking for.
As sleep began to pull him in, reeling him back down slowly, Peter turned his groggy gaze to the creature beside him. Yondu was becoming a blur so he blinked a few times to clear his vision.
"Why the hell do yew keep saving me?" he found himself asking, much to his surprise.
Yondu looked positively offended at that, even slapping his magazine shut to give Peter the full extent of his glare. But the funny thing about oncoming sleep is that it tended to take away your ability to care.
"I'm startin' to hope that yew got an answer for that, boy, 'cause I'm getting mighty fuckin' sick of it!"
It didn't really help, but Peter raised both eyebrows, "It's almost starting to look like you care."
"Like hell I do, boy!" Yondu growled but it somehow felt far less menacing than usual, "Yew got any idea how far I had to go to get yew proper help? These Xandarian scum don't know shit about yewr kind. Yew godda hell of a debt to pay off. I ain't lettin' yew take the easy way out."
"Right, 'course," Peter slurred, feeling the pull of sleep a little harder to resist now.
Yondu snapped his magazine back open and kicked his feet up on the edge of the bed, jolting its occupant a little. Quill grunted but managed to settle without too much fuss.
"You're an ass, you know," he muttered, voice quiet, "but its not too bad knowing you got my back sometimes."
"Shaddup, son, I'd kill yew in an instant." retaliated Yondu. A soft chuckle strained Peter's throat and drew an exhausted shudder out of him. As he felt himself falling back, he thought he heard one last thing come out of Yondu's foul mouth, "S' not like yew got anyone else anyway."
[19:55 – Wed. – SY: XXXX]
[Xandar – Trepan Hospital – Recovery Wing – Room 304]
[Peter]
Sleep was such a wonderful thing. It was encompassing, kind, soft, and blissful.
It's just too bad that Peter never seemed to wake up to said bliss.
He awoke to the sound of voices and approaching feet.
"Is this D'astard still sleeping?!"
Rustle.
"I am Groot."
Whisper.
"So what if he's had a hard week? So have I and you don't see me passed out in a hospital bed!"
Click. Click. Click.
"Dr. Maleki said he'd been told Peter would be exhausted after everything his body has gone through. Seems that Terrans do a lot of sleeping when they recover."
The sound of a chair being pulled out reached his ears.
"Told? So he didn't make that judgment himself, did he?" A weight arrived next to his feet and he sighed softly.
He was getting less drowsy as the conversation continued.
"No-"
Clomp, clomp.
"Then why the hell should we trust him?"
Shuffle.
"Rocket-"
The sound of weight in a creaky chair.
"I mean, look what happened the last time we did that!"
Peter almost wanted to cringe, ears not totally accustomed to such noise after such a long time of sleeping in gentle quiet.
There was a moment of swift silence and prickling gazes.
"Dey was there with them. He watched Dr. Schaffer and Dr. Maleki discuss Peter's condition." He recognized Gamora's voice now and had to resist the urge to yawn.
"Oh yeah? And where the hell did this 'Dr. Schaffer' or whatever run off to?" It wasn't hard to tell Rocket's voice apart from everyone else's.
"I agree, his vacancy is somewhat worrisome." Oh, even Drax was there.
"I believe Dey said Prime had sent a few Nova Corpsmen to escort him back to Earth when Peter's condition improved on Sunday."
"I am Groot." Again, not hard.
A click.
The creak of a door opening.
A snap as it shut.
The sound of a throat being cleared.
"Gamora is right. If Dr. Schaffer had been missing from Earth for much longer he says there would have been complications. Something about having to go to work on Monday." Oh, Dey had arrived.
Guh, so no more sleep, probably. These guys weren't gunna finish and shut up so he might as well wake up.
Rocket scoffed. "How did the guy even get here anyway?" No-one noticed Peter tense and stretch a little, flexing his muscles without moving his arms or legs anywhere.
There was a following sigh, "Yondu kidnapped him."
And thereabouts was where Peter drew the line.
Shock speared through him so fast he was hardly aware of how quickly he jolted up into a sitting position, "Yondu kidnapped someone?!"
He surprised Drax so bad the poor guy leapt back and drew both his blades. And Groot shed a full layer of young bark, shards peppering the side of Peter's arm. Every hair on Rocket's body immediately stood on end, making him look like a ball of fluff. Even Gamora reached for her half-sword but didn't draw it.
"Holy fuck, man!" Rocket yelped. But Peter wasn't listening, too busy holding his head and trying not to fall over. His back stung, a fresh wound he couldn't remember receiving stretched a little too quickly and his muscles ached, but not painfully.
"Peter?" Gamora was beside him in an instant, reaching out to steady him. He heard Drax sheath his weapons and approach as well.
"Ugh," He moaned, "Where the hell have you guys been? And who did Yondu kidnap?"
They collectively hesitated.
"I am Groot!" Groot offered and, gaining control of his sense of equilibrium Peter took a hand from his head and smiled at him.
"Yeah, thanks little guy, but that doesn't help me much." He turned his attention upwards and met Dey's eyes first. The sheer, overwhelming amount of relief in the kind man's eyes almost blew him away. The curly haired man smiled welcomingly.
"You've been treated for morphalite syndrome in the Trepan Hospital on Xandar. Yondu, being the criminal that he is, went to Earth, kidnapped a Terran doctor and forced him to treat you." Peter bit his lip and felt the color wash out of his face.
Shit, shit, shit, Yondu hadn't been messing around when he'd said he had a debt to pay. A groan leaked out of him and Peter tilted back, flopping onto the mattress and covering his face with the pillow.
"Fuck," he said, voice muffled, "Now I really owe that bastard."
He felt Rocket's paw slap against his knee, "you owe us too, asshole. We flew across the galaxy and stormed a medical facility on Knowhere for you!"
The heavy sound of approaching boots stopped beside the bed while Gamora reached forward to pull the pillow off her childish leader's face.
As soon as his face was revealed Drax met his gaze and nodded sagely, "you have been avenged."
"How is that reassuring?"
Drax just looked confused. And Peter couldn't find it in him to be mad.
"I am Groot?"
"Yeah, we did," Rocket replied, smug, "I even got to use my new laser pulse cannon."
"You guys are seriously gratuitously violent," Peter deadpanned.
A huff drew itself out of Gamora as she plopped down in a chair set beside the bed- the one Yondu had occupied before.
"Those healers on Knowhere were apparently former followers of Ronan," she reported, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, "They were hoping to spread your sickness faster than it could be treated."
Now it was Rocket's turn to scoff and plop down on the mattress next to Peter's right side. He hadn't exactly been prepared for the little creature to grab the hem of his loose hospital-issued pants and pull them up, peaking at the flesh beneath. He got a quick examination of the forming tissue right above where Peter's appendix would have been before the human wormed away.
"Woah, Rocket, what the hell, man?!" The flush on Peter's face didn't escape Rocket's notice and he sniggered.
"Pretty lucky you didn't need that," he grinned, "there are a lot of species out there that do."
Peter had a reprimand on the tip of tongue, but then he caught the look of relief in Rocket's eyes and it shattered any irritation he'd held. He swallowed and shoved his elbows into the mattress, stiffly pulling himself up into a sitting position.
Geeze, recovery was going to be such a pain.
"What exactly happened?" he asked instead, "How long have I been out for?"
Eyes turned on Dey, "You were given a kidney transplant a few days ago. But you've been at the hospital for 168 hours."
Peter gave him a quizzical look, "Please tell me it was a Terran kidney."
A few smiles were lit around the room, "Yes it was human. I'm still not entirely sure how they knew it was compatible, though."
"If it came from Yondu, then it makes sense to me," he said with an exasperated sigh.
"What do you mean by that?" Gamora asked.
Peter waved the question away, "You don't want to know."
She frowned but did not persist.
As Rocket tried to explain to Drax that Peter was trying to tell Gamora not to ask that question and not that she'd suddenly and inexplicably decided she was uninterested in his answer, a question rose to the forefront of Peter's mind. It was like bile swelling in the back of his throat, an unappetizing, gunky, undesirable inquiry he wasn't too sure he wanted an answer to.
He swallowed and turned his gaze to Dey, "So, what's the status on the whole morphalite syndrome thing?"
The room went quiet, clear anticipation in the air.
So he wasn't the only one left in the dark about it.
As though on cue the door opened and a well-statured man hobbled into the room. He had the slightest of limps and an aged face, smile lines evident around his mouth. When he saw Peter up and awake, his mouth curved into those lines.
"Why hello, how are you feeling?" he asked, his undivided attention suddenly all on his patient.
"Pretty good," Quill said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.
"Very good," the doctor said and stepped forward, "My name is Maleki Akai, I'm the one who's helping you get back on your feet." For the next ten or so minutes Peter endured several tests seemingly designed to strip him of whatever reserves of energy he had. When they were finished and he was busy yawning, scrubbing an itch on the back of his head, the doctor sat back on his heels and scrolled through a data pad. "Yes, you are looking much better," Maleki confirmed with a proud smile on his face.
"Is he all clear?" Rocket asked hesitantly, shushing Drax when he began to ask what that meant.
Maleki hummed, letting Peter lean back into his pillows without comment. He was exhausted and wanted only to dive back into the beautiful throngs of well-earned rest. The world around him was blurring at the edges, his lashes fluttering. Wow, this was ridiculous. The voices were beginning to echo and his body felt heavy.
"Not quite," the Xandarian doctor said eventually and no-one seemed to notice as Peter fell asleep, "We'll keep him here at the hospital for another week to be sure there aren't any issues with the transplant. Over the course of the next full Cycle I want him to come in for regular check-ups so we can monitor that kidney." He scrolled down a little and started adding in information to Peter's file, "At the end of the week I will give him a few pills to take with him. They'll help with his subcostal nerve as it grows back and keep the healing process clean. And-"
Gamora, of course, was the first one to notice Peter's stillness.
"Peter?" She asked, voice quiet.
He didn't reply. Eyes closed, head back, chest rising and falling steadily, he remained unresponsive.
"Quill?" Rocket tried this time, his voice a whisper.
"It seems he has fallen back into the void," Drax rumbled.
"What the hell does that mean?" his smaller comrade demanded, "You make it sound like he just died!" Dey smiled weakly at the two of them when Gamora shushed them and Peter stirred.
Maleki glanced at the monitors and smiled, "He's fallen asleep." Pressing a finger into the center of the data pad the screen went dark and he tucked it under his arm, "As I said we will continue to monitor him for a few days but then he'll be free to go. You should let him rest for now. I, on the other hand, have other patients to see." He turned to the door but stopped and looked back at them before leaving, "I'll be seeing you. Be well." And then he closed the door.
Peter recovered fairly quickly- but it only seemed that way on paper. To both the captain and his crew each day was an eternity. For the StarLord it was because he was bloody sick and tired of lying in bed. For everyone else it was because they were bloody sick and tired of listening to him bemoan the fact that he was sick and tired of being in bed. But he got a little quieter after Drax threatened to knock him out again.
And when he was discharged he waited, and waited, and waited for Yondu to call him up and force him to do something. He anticipated, on the edge of his seat, forgetting to take his pills and thoroughly irritating Gamora.
But Yondu never called.
Not a week later, not two, not three. Soon, as the Guardians began to pick up jobs again, he forgot about it. And by the time Peter was completely recovered from his cancer months later he stopped caring.
He'd survived.
Peter Jason Quill had survived everything that had happened.
And that was all that really mattered.
The End.
Oh goodness, finally. I hope the ending doesn't seem too rushed but I have to get back to work and school is starting up for me. It needed to come to an end somewhere and I thought this would be the best place.
Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and reviews everyone! I am so flattered to find that so many people enjoyed this fic. :)
Until next time,
Cheers!