"NO!"
Peter jumped down from the tree, dashing to the broken ledge where Quill had fallen.
"No no no please no not him," he rambled, heart beating a million miles a minute. He took one second to peer down into the abyss, and he made his decision.
It wasn't a hard one to make.
He shot a web at a secure point on the rocky outcropping, and jumped.
The waters rushed up to meet him, and he swung to push off the wall of the cliff, his web serving as an anchor to keep him from falling to his death. He rappelled quickly to the bottom, scanning the waters below for any sign of Quill.
He looked to his left, further up the river, and immediately averted his gaze.
Cull Obsidian lay sprawled against the jagged rocks, very obviously dead.
But there was still no sign of Quill.
"Please please let me find him," he begged to any and every divine being that would listen. Tears pricked at his eyes and his body trembled from the stress and pain.
"Please..."
And then he saw it.
Nearly invisible to the naked eye, a blur of red skimming underneath the surface of the water further down, seemingly pinned against a large boulder.
"QUILL!" He yelled, and he pushed off from the rock, releasing the web. He held his body straight as a rod and plunged into the raging waters.
A wave of pain came rushing over him as the currents pushed and pulled and dragged him under. He scrambled for purchase, but to no avail. He bobbed up and down, sputtering for air only to be snatched back into the water's deadly clutches. His mangled leg and injured shoulder screamed in protest as he kicked against the current.
This is it, he thought. I'm going to die.
Suddenly he felt something firm beneath his foot, and he kicked hard, finally finding purchase, and burst into the open air. He gasped and blinked the water from his eyes.
Quill was just a few feet ahead and Peter was getting closer by the second. He gulped in a lungful of air and dove.
He could see Quill, pinned underneath the water flush against the rock, the harsh current beating his body against it, but keeping him in place.
He wasn't moving.
Oh God.
He reached out his arms, and the river brought him crashing right into Quill's motionless form. He grabbed onto the man, pulling him into his arms and out of the water. The current kept them both pressed tight against the boulder, and Peter struggled desperately to keep them from being swept away.
He grabbed Quill's face in his free hand, the other keeping him from falling back under the surface. Quill's eyes were closed, his face slack. He had a large gash on his forehead that bled freely.
He was so pale.
"No no no," he dropped his hand to Quill's neck, feeling for a pulse, leaving his head to bob against his shoulder.
Peter felt the slightest heartbeat flutter against his fingers. He choked out a laugh in relief. Quill was still alive!
He stuck his hand underneath the unconscious man's nose, trying to feel for anything, any breath at all.
Nothing.
"Shit," Peter's relief sank back into the depths of his soul. There was no way he could revive Quill in the middle of a raging river.
He looked at Quill. At the man who had saved his life countless times in the past several days. The man who always managed to always put a smile on his face. The man who had helped him see he wasn't so alone in the world.
Peter never had a brother. But he was suddenly filled with the overwhelming feeling that he had somehow found one in the man before him.
It was then that Peter realized just how devastating losing Peter Quill would be to him.
He wrapped his arms tightly around Quill's torso, pulling him close against his chest. He winced as he felt the man's ribs shift and grind together.
"I got you, man. I'm gonna get you out of here," his words were lost in the thunderous echoes of the ravine.
He pressed the soles of his feet against the boulder, holding onto Quill for dear life, and pushed.
The river caught them once again, the freezing liquid surging and crashing and so very deadly. Peter tried dodging the rocks and debris along the way, twisting his body to take the brunt of the impact so as to shield Quill. He could feel the bruises accumulating on his already battered body, his energy waning, his vision growing dim. But he couldn't give up.
He treaded and kicked until finally, whether by divine intervention or just pure luck, he managed to get them to the river bank.
He crawled to the sandy shore and stumbled to his feet, dragging Quill as far away from the water as possible. When the threat was well and far away, Peter dropped to his knees beside the man, ripping his red jacket open.
Peter sucked in a sharp breath. The gray shirt dipped in a horrific, uneven pattern over Quill's chest, several of his ribs shattered.
Peter acted immediately.
He tilted Quill's head back and breathed for him. I know you'll give me hell for this when you wake up, he thought, but you've already done it to me once so whatever I guess. His mind raced with pretended conversation as he tried to get Quill's lungs to work again. He imagined that Quill would wake up and balk and tease him for "kissing" him. He'd laugh it off and ruffle Peter's hair. Then he'd stand up magically healed and they'd go hunting for squirrels or something dumb. And Quill would show him how to use his blasters and they'd figure a way out of the hell they were stuck in and Peter would finally show him his Lego collection.
"C'mon!" Peter shouted in between breaths. "C'mon Quill!"
He continued providing ventilations for what felt like eternity, until finally, Quill jerked and coughed up what looked like gallons of river water.
"Yes!" Peter cried, "oh thank God! Thank you! Thank you!" He cheered to the sky as Quill expelled the fluid from his body. Peter turned him to his side, patting his back gently, careful to avoid pressing on his ribs.
After several minutes the coughs subsided, and Quill rolled onto his back again. Peter could see a hint of green irises as his eyes blinked open, a mask of confusion and pain written on his face. He turned to Peter, who smiled like a fool down at him.
"Pete...?" He wheezed, his voice rough and heavy.
"Yeah, yeah I'm here," Peter took Quill's hand in his, "Just hold on, okay? I'm gonna figure out a way out of this mess." Peter knew he had to figure it out and do it quickly. There was no telling how extensive the damage to Quill's body was.
"Thanks..." Quill breathed, and he was out.
Peter sat back in relief, his hands still clasped tightly around Quill's. The adrenaline began to fade rapidly, and pain replaced awareness as his world began to dim. He slowly lowered himself on his back beside Quill, and brought a trembling hand to the back of his thigh. His fingers came away with thick red blood that he knew wasn't anywhere near slowing.
It was then that he realized that if he didn't find help soon, he would be in the same boat as Quill.
He glanced over at his friend. Quill's eyes were shut, lashes dark against his pale skin. But his chest was rising and falling with life, and that was enough for Peter as he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness.
An inner voice was telling him get up now or both of you are going to die but he simply couldn't get his body to move. His brain was yelling at him, begging him to just do something, anything. But he couldn't. The heavy bloodloss and sheer exhaustion was pulling him up and down again and again. Just like the river did.
He wasn't sure how much time had passed. It could've been hours, weeks, even years. His perception of time was so slanted that he figured it didn't even matter. He could be already dead for all he knew.
He found himself pulled from unconsciousness only to be met by the smiling face of Natasha Romanoff.
Wait. When did she get there? Peter's vision was blurry, mind muddled as he saw Mr. Stark peer at him from behind her. The billionaire's gaze was hard. Unconcerned. Peter whimpered, pain spiking through his frame. Natasha ran a slender finger down Peter's cheek, shushing him.
Only it wasn't Natasha. No, not even close.
"Don't worry child," the woman's voice was cold, "We'll save you."
Proxima Midnight smiled as she struck Peter hard on the head, sending him into darkness.