Hello! I'm back and sorry for the wait. This week was horrible, HORRIBLE. I had a test every day at least and pretty much sucked at everything theoretical and the practical things, did fine, but baaag… anyway, new favourites and followers! I'm happy for that and promise I'll try to write as soon as possible! This is the only thing that makes me relax and I love writing so, not going to drop this, even if I end up going to exams at the end of the year.

Anyway, here it is, hope you like it…

Chapter 10

Pain. That's all he knew as he regained consciousness. Pain everywhere. It felt as if a rock had crashed his entire body against another rock and he was still in the middle of it all. His chest contracted painfully with every breath and all he could think of is how the hell was he going to get out of this one and that he really, really needed to go to the bathroom.

He opened his eyes carefully as he didn't want to know what was out there and suddenly, he saw his own roof. He frowned for a moment trying to remember how the hell he had gotten back to the Milano and why everything hurt, and soon images flew into his mind randomly.

He had been on a mission. Then Rocket yelling at him. A big fat dude. Running and flying and then falling and pain. Fuck, a lot of pain. He swallowed hard as his dry mouth barely handled this movement as he mentally assessed his own status.

To say he felt like shit was an understatement. His arm was burning and he really struggled with the idea of ripping the skin off to see if it would make it feel any better. His leg was not really in a better shape as every time he even tried to lift it, his muscles screamed for him to stop and he did not have the energy to go against them anymore. So he was stuck there in a comfortable bed in a rather comfortable position in the worst and uncomfortable status he had ever faced.

But even though he just wanted to go to sleep and forget about it all, he really needed to use the bathroom. He swallowed again as he turned his face to the right and left wondering if there was anyone else there to see his pathetic state. He smirked to himself as he found himself alone in a lighted room. At least he could cry like a little girl on his own.

No, Peter Quill was never one to complain about his injuries. Most of the time he tried to hide them from the rest and often found himself in a bit of a predicament when Gamora asked about a new scar she knew he didn't get from a girl at a bar. It wasn't that he didn't care for his own safety and wellbeing, but he was so used to taking care of himself that it just didn't even come as a possibility in his mind to ask for someone to aid him. But now, now he knew it was more than a scratch that needed a couple of stitches, it was more than a sprain ankle, it was even more than most of his injuries combined probably, so he knew he was going to complain. He knew he was going to cry and scream for the pain to stop if he wanted to try to get out of bed, but what he also knew was that he was too stubborn and proud to ask for help and he was going to try this on his own.

First thing first, he needed to at least sit on the bed.

He moved both his arms to his sides carefully and pushed his body up slowly and as gently as he could. He bit his lip until he drew blood as his muscles screamed for this new movement to stop. His lungs contracted painfully and he could barely breathe as he wondered if this was such a good idea. But what hurt the most was his left shoulder: he could not move it as usual and it made a sickening pop sound as he continued rotating it as he lifted his body. His left wrist was also hurting and he knew it was swollen, but he had twisted it so many times that the pain was almost normal to him, so he kept going.

On his right side his arm was still on fire, but the burning sensation was not ripping his brains apart as his left shoulder had decided to take the lead on this show. He felt a crack and guessed it was probably a bruised rib he hoped he didn't actually cracked as he pushed his upper body into a sitting position. His entire body felt the change in positions and he wanted to vomit. The headache grew — one he hadn't guessed he had — and the entire room started spinning around him annoyingly. He closed his eyes tired already from the exercise and stood still for a moment, trying to breathe as slow as he could, but something was preventing him from doing so. It was like something was stuck deep into his lungs or respiratory tract and was preventing air to get in or out.

He coughed a couple of times, making his body shake and into more pain as he wished he would just pass out and his pee dissolved without his knowledge, but of course, he was not that lucky.

Before he could opened his eyes again, the cough grew without his acceptance and he had to place a hand over his mouth as it felt as if something was pushing out. He kept coughing hardly for a couple of second before it finally stopped. He stared at his hands with disgust as he felt something squishy and dark green on them. He really needed to vomit right now.

Shaking his head he cleaned his hands on the sheets and made a decision: he really needed to get to the toilet now and clean himself. He felt disgusting, a sheet of sweat covering his body from head to toes and though he had a lot of bandages on and could not see even half of his body, he just knew he needed a bath.

—"Okay, Pete, you can do this… just… slow and steady…"— he told himself as he mustered all the courage and strength he had before he turned his body to the right, his legs towards the floor and bent on the edge of the bed. He bit his lip again from the pain and almost screamed, but controlled it before it was too late. —"Maybe… slower…" — he added in a painful whisper.

He closed his eyes again as he hold on to the bed with both his hands as if his life depended on it.

His body was really unbalanced right now and he often found himself moving to one side or the other before he corrected his position. His mind was blurry with ideas and he wondered if he again had a fever. He swallowed hard as his throat again protected against it, but didn't even make a sound.

He opened his eyes once again and stared at the empty room with half a smile on his face. Hey, at least he could sit, right? That meant he was not as fucked up as he guessed, right? And if his teammates weren't there right now, then it was probably not life threatening.

Those thoughts gave him hope. He really didn't like staying on a bed all day long and he was the worst at being sick. He remembered once when he had the flu with Yondu and after only 12 hours of getting out of bed and sneaking out every single minute, Yondu had finally decided to tie him up to the bed. He smirked at the memory. Gosh he had been bad when being with Yondu. How the hell had the alien not eaten him was beyond his own understanding, but well… to be honest about it, it's not really usual to actually eat your own companions, right?

— "Okay, now the hardest part… focus for once, please…"— he told himself as if saying it out loud would make his brain do something differently.

He pushed his body up and failed. The pain as he placed his left leg on the floor was too much for his tired muscles to take and they had not allowed him to stay more than a second with the leg on the floor. He sighed as he tried two more times and didn't work out. He closed his eyes frustrated by his own pathetic actions. At this pace he would pee the bed before actually being able to stand.

He wanted to yell and ask for help. He really wanted to do something before his bladder could no longer hold itself, but his brain kept telling him to postpone it. If his guess was right then Gamora and the rest already knew about him begin sick from before and knew about his injuries, all of them. They had changed him into new pants and bandages were all over his body, so really, it was not even possible to think they had not looked at every inch of his body —not that he was comfortable with the idea — and that only meant they would be mad as hell with him.

They would probably yell at him for being reckless, for having so many injuries and new scars, but most of all, because he had been sick for a while and had said nothing about it, and they would want to know why.

But honestly, who could blame him? He was used to being on his own, to actually take care of everything on his own and to not talk about it. He was not a feeling's kind of guy and he knew it. He was good at talking, he was good at listening to other people's problems and not only to get to a girl's bed — thank you very much — but also because he needed to be because of his job.

Let's be honest about it: he was a Terran, a life form that was not really on the top of the universe life forms list. They were seen as really stupid and slow in their technological advances. They seemed to believe they were the only ones in the entire universe, which made them look even more useless and to be honest about it, Peter kind of agree with it. If it wasn't for the fact that he had been taken when he was little and that his mother had told him his father was from out of space, then he would probably be as useless as any other human and physically speaking, he actually was. Terrans were not strong at all, and he knew it.

Yes, he had his suit that made him stronger and would allow him to breathe out in space and in other atmospheres and he apparently had alien DNA, also, but those only happened because he was smart and due to his own mother having a relationship with an alien; without those, he was as plain as any other little human, so he had to figure out a way to simply not die. So he had found out being clever and talking a lot to make more friends than enemies — even as a ravagers — helped a lot, but all of that didn't mean he was good at talking about himself, but more like he was used to diverting conversation from himself to other issues.

So yes, he was used to not being the center of attention and when needed he could easily get the conversation topic changed to something he was more comfortable with, so sue him if he had done it unconsciously or consciously with his friends. But he was not going to talk about it. Not about why or when, not now, not ever. He was not a feeling's guy.

He shook his head and refused to allow his body any rest. He was in charge and he could go to the bathroom if he wanted. He was not going to stay still for a while.

He pushed his body again and lifted his body finally making it, but taking the hard consequences as well. His leg bent as it could not support him and before he knew it, he was on the floor. The pain that erupted through his body was too much for him to take and before he knew it he was screaming curses like a little teenager. He bit his lip as agony crashed his brain as his right arm touched the ground and he felt every nerve firing signals he could not stop. His vision darkened, but his body was not going to allow him to rest, because this was his punishment for being stupid.

He heard fast footsteps coming towards him, but he didn't care. As long as the pain stopped then he was fine with even the Queen of England to come to his aid. Tears covered the inside of his eyes, but he didn't allow them to flow free, he still wanted to keep a bit of his dignity.

— "Peter! What's going on?" — he heard a concerned Gamora and he turned his face to smile at her.

— "Hey…"— he smiled at her before he closed his eyes and a painful moaned escaped his chapped lips.

— "What happened?" —she asked as she approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. —"Why are you out of bed?"

Gamora had been sitting on the common room when she heard the noise. At first she had guessed it had been Rocket that was working on the back of the ship, but when she realized it had been from Peter's room she had freaked out. Then she heard the screams and curses…

She had only been out of there for a couple of minutes. She didn't think he would wake up soon and she had needed a rest from the sad atmosphere, so she had decided to go and drink some hot beverage before going back, but now… now he was awake and in pain, and it was all because she had not been there for him… again.

— "I just…. Thought about going for a walk?" — he asked trying to taste the waters before actually drowning in her deadly glare.

— "You should have asked. We could have aid you." — she replied with regret before she stood up —"I will come back with Drax so he can help you up. Don't move, please…"— she added the please slowly before she turned and left.

Peter really wanted to hit himself in the head right now and he would have, if he hadn't been in this amount of pain. He had made Gamora sad… no, not angry, but sad and that meant he had screwed up more than he could actually handle. Yes, Gamora angry was deadly and scary, but he knew that one: stay out of her way, do as she says and then it would work out, but sad Gamora? That was new… and he had no idea how to make it go away and back to normal.

Before he could make a plan, Drax and Gamora where on his side. He nodded to Drax to lift him up —as if he even had a choice in the matter —and mumbled a couple of curses as his body screamed for it to stop. Maybe the floor was not a bad place to be right now…

—"You okay, Peter?" — she asked as she analyzed every winkle that appeared on his face as his agonizing trip to bed continued.

—"Uh-uh…" — he managed to reply — "…need to pee though…" — he added remembering why he had been so stupid to get out of bed on his own.

Drax raised an eyebrow towards Gamora who simply shrugged and nodded. She didn't like it, but she couldn't stop him from releasing himself, even though she wanted him stuck to bed for the rest of his life.

He turned to the bathroom and placed Peter on the toilet. He moved to help him again, but Peter raised a hand to stop him.

—"Wow, hold on big guy!" — he spoke quickly —"No need for you to… you know… I can do it myself… feel perfectly fine and capable right now…"—he added with a reassuring smile.

Gamora narrowed her eyes at this. Why some people were so shy about this kind of things was beyond her, but she guessed he could handle it. She nodded at Drax, who kept glancing at her as if not knowing what to do, before she turned to the bed and sat there.

— "Just a couple of minutes, Peter. If you need anything, just say it."

He nodded at Gamora and waited for Drax to leave before he closed the door to the small bathroom. He sighed as he run a hand over his sweaty bangs. A shower was out of the question, but at least they had allowed him to do this on his own. If he was capable or not was not a question, he had to be capable of doing it.

He pushed his body up again, but this time didn't let his left leg to hit the floor. He knew it was useless to even try to, so why the hell waste time on that anyway. He turned to face the toiled and released himself easily and happily. One problem down… a hundred to go.

He stared at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands and regretted doing so instantly: his face was so white it was like the tiles on the bathroom, the dark bags under the eyes making it look even more ghostly like than he wanted to actually accept he was. His hair was almost glued to his face as the sweat seemed to be everywhere. Gosh he looked terrible! No wonder they were treating him like a glass doll.

He placed water on both his hands and washed his face as he realized he had a fever. Fuck, could this be any worse?

He sighed tiredly before he sat back down. He didn't feel like hopping out of the bathroom and his shoulder was killing him. He moved it gently, but every time he turned it an inch it screamed to him. He bit his lip again.

Fuck, fuck fuck…!

— "Okay…" — he yelled and the door was opened quickly.

Drax moved to grab him and waited for Peter to nod to do so. He frowned, if Peter was this tired to actually allow him to carry him, then this was bad, but he decided not to say a single word right now and just carry him to bed.

Peter closed his eyes and smirked.

— "We really need to go on a date if we are going to keep this touchy relationship, man…" — he joked before he yawned. Gosh, when had he gotten this tired?

— "We are friends; we do not need a date."

— "Uh-uh… sure…"— he replied with another yawn as he was placed on the bed again. He coughed a couple of times before he felt someone's weight on the bed beside him.

— "Pete… you cannot go out of bed without help. Your body needs rest."

He swallowed. He hadn't planned on not being able to go to the bathroom on his own. He had tried to do it without them knowing and now, they were hurting. He opened his eyes and turned towards his green friend and nodded.

— "Yeah, maybe that's a good idea… my shoulder's killing me."

She narrowed her eyes at his comment. She knew it was due to the fall with Rocket. He had torn a few muscles there and the inflammation was bothering him, but for Peter to actually say something was hurting meant something was really wrong.

—"Anything else bothering you?" — she asked taking advantage of his openness.

He frowned at this. Uh… why was he feeling this drunk all of a sudden? He felt as if he was being lifted from the pain into a really cool place filled with lovely and colourful things. He smiled at her and shook his head. He coughed a couple of times before he felt Drax —or maybe someone else —lift him to a seating position. He coughed that damn green thing again into his hands before Gamora cleaned it with a tissue and he was placed back down.

He smiled to her before he closed his eyes.

—"Peter… Pete?…" — she tried, but he was already out of it.

She bit her lip before she closed her eyes frustrated by her own lack of courage. Why she had not confronted him or asked about his stupid pneumonia was something she could not reply right now. She had tried to, she really had, but the pain was written all over his face and he was so tired… how could she not have allowed him some rest?

She stood and moved to the common room where she found a pacing raccoon. She sat down before he was able to speak.

—"He was awake and ya didn think to call me?!" — he yelled.

—"Please… he was awake for only a moment" — she replied — "He went to the bathroom and it took all of his energy."

— "Tskk…"— he raised a hand dismissively . —"We had an understandin': if he woke up on any watch, the one would go and find the others! You came up with it!" — he placed both hands over his ears and pulled at them, before he took a deep breath and let it go. They were all worried about Peter, this was no time for fighting. He sat next to her and rested his head on the table before speaking again — "How is he?"

She smiled at him before she turned her sight to Peter's room. She had not been there, that was why she had not gotten all of them. She had been somewhere else and now he was in more pain than before.

—"Not good…"

— "Did ya find out about the pneumonia thing?"

—"No… but he has a fever again and he coughed something green." — she stared at her hands for a moment as she remembered what had happened moments ago.

— "How about his fever? Did he say antyhin' actually?"

— "Not much… he was in too much pain to do so…. Rocket, how long until we get to a healer?"

—"Three days, four tops." — he replied.

—"Okay, then we need to make sure he doesn't do something reckless again. He can't get out of bed in the state he is in. And we need to make sure of it."

—"Yeah…."— Rocket replied in a whisper. — "We'll tie him to the bed if needed."

— "I think he will cooperate." —Drax came to the room —"He seemed to be in too much pain to go against our wishes."

—"Yes… I saw that too." — Gamora commented sadly.

— "Well, of course he is! That's what he gets for bein' stupid."

— "We'll talk to him about it when he feels better. Right now we need to focus on him getting better. Next time he wakes up we feed him and let him take a few drugs so he feels better, but no getting up unless it's with help and to do something important." — She added.

Everyone needed in agreement, but they all stayed in silence adding just a tiny comment in their minds, but too afraid to say it out loud: these were going to be the longest three days of their lives.

So there! Peter is waking up now and more things will happen next chapter. Hope you liked it… I really do, I'm a bit tired right now so I don't know if it actually sucks or now… :/ sorry if it does.

I'll see you soon!