Peter's jaw dropped at the sight of Loki on his knees, head thrown back, surrounded by a writhing, sparkling cloud of his familiar emerald magic that Peter could hardly see through. The blaster slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. A tear tracked through the layer of grime on his face, terror for Gamora pounding in his heart, spiking as she screamed at Loki's touch, soothing as the wound – and her shirt, yay, she loves that shirt – healed, leaving her upright and leaning away from Loki's power.
The gold light shimmered to life, glowing beneath the layer of emerald. The responsible leader side of Peter knew he should stop Loki, keep him from murder, keep him from revenge, but something told him there was no cutting through that cloud of pent-up emotion. Not by him, not Gamora, not Val, not even Thor.
So he crouched there, beside Mantis, staying silent as Loki's revenge obliterated the guards, the ship, and finally Beb.
Only as it faded did he risk rising, stepping towards his lover and his best friend, Mantis following him. Gamora rose hesitantly, still holding her side in disbelief. She and Peter reached for each other, sinking into a one-armed hug, tight and relieved. But their attention was on Loki, shaking as the surge left him, as if he had just been on a fancy adrenaline rush.
"What the hell?" a familiar voice exclaimed.
Peter looked up, a grin growing on his face.
Until Loki spoke.
"Who the… who are you people?"
Rocket and the others stopped, exchanging confused looks. Gamora grabbed Loki's shoulder, turning him towards her. "Don't you remember them now? Don't you remember us?"
Loki furrowed his brows, scrubbing at his face. Magic sparked from his fingertips. He was barely upright, his legs visibly shaking, but when Mantis reached out to steady him, he jerked away. "I don't remember," he rasped. "I don't- There's nothing-"
He spun into action, a dagger appearing in his grip. He lunged for Gamora, grabbing her by the hair, pressing it to her throat. "You lied," he snarled. "This is some sort of ruse-"
Peter snatched up the blaster Mantis still held, yanked the helmet off Loki's head, and smashed the blaster against his temple. Loki crumpled to the ground.
"I am Groot!" Groot yelled, half confused, half enraged.
"What the hell is going on?" Rocket demanded.
Peter just looked at Gamora, now rubbing her throat. "And you said I wouldn't knock Loki out," he attempted to joke.
Gamora just stared at him, hands held out as if to say Really?
-MCU-
When Loki awoke, he was lying on a soft bed, a blanket draped over him. Music blasted from somewhere to the left, a young woman singing Oh, oh, oh, it's magic, you know. Quieter, someone hummed along, and farther off, Loki heard faint voices. He cracked open his eyes, and as soon as the light hit, pain flared in his head.
"Ow!" he groaned, poking at the aching part of his temple. A layer of bandages greeted his fingers, the pressure sending another pulse of pain through him.
"Yeah, you might- you might wanna fix that," Peter said, the music volume rapidly turning down.
Loki sat up, pushing the blanket off, forcing his eyes back open to check out his wrists, fingertips trailing over leather and bare skin. Emerald light rippled out of his open palm, weaving around his arm as it climbed to his injured temple, prying the bandages off, healing both the skin and the concussion.
The music cranked back up: It's magic, you know. Never believe it's not so!
Loki glared at Peter, sitting in a chair by a window with a view of stars drifting by. He spotted a trash can by the room's door, and with a jerk of his head, Loki tossed the bandages into it. Peter watched, one eyebrow arching.
"Damn, you really are just showing off right now."
"And what exactly would you do if a part of you had been locked up, so close but so utterly useless, for months?" Loki challenged.
"It's only been a few days, Loki," Peter pointed out gently, twirling the little black device in his hand around.
Loki eyed him warily. "Why knock me out the moment I realized I remembered nothing, if not to give yourselves more time to add to the lie?"
"One," Peter said, quieting the music, "you were holding a knife to Gamora's throat. She had almost died like a minute before, so I panicked. Sorry about that. Two, if we really wanted to keep up the lie, you never would've gotten your magic back."
Loki flexed his hands, letting the magic twist around his fingers. "True," he allowed, searching around the room. The door, which the voices were coming in from, was open to an empty hallway. The closet was open too, revealing a wardrobe of leather outfits in his preferred black and greens, hanging above a few hoodies and sweatpants folded on the floor.
He froze on the nightstand.
On it sat two picture frames and a sketchbook. One frame was digital, switching between two similar pictures. The first showed him embracing a gorgeous woman, his hair falling down to brush against hers as they kissed, eyes closed to savor the contact; Thor was behind them, holding a pair of curled fingers over both their heads. In the second, Thor had dropped his hands and Loki and the woman were no longer kissing; instead, all three were laughing, Thor's arms wrapped around their shoulders.
"Valkyrie?" Loki guessed, pointing at it.
"Yup," Peter confirmed. He pointed at the second frame, adjusting as he listed off the names. "And there's Drax, Rocket, and Groot."
The other photograph was a group shot. Loki stood next to Peter, who had one arm thrown across his shoulders, his other wrapped around Gamora, who was leaning over him, apparently saying something to Loki. Mantis was on Gamora's other side, Drax behind both women. On Loki's other side stood Groot, Rocket in front of the two of them, holding Groot in place.
The Asgardian shots held an air of familiarity, of extreme closeness and ease. There was no hesitation in their touches, no awkward distance, nothing fake in their grins or the love in their eyes. The Guardians shot didn't hold that same ease, but the seeds of it were there, in the way that Loki wasn't leaning away from Peter, in the hints of happiness in his eyes.
"That was the day you decided to join us," Peter explained. "Pretty much the moment, actually. All three of those shots. Your goodbye to Thor and Val, and your hello to us."
Loki picked up the sketchbook, open to a picture of the seven Guardians sprawled out on a carpet of lush grass and bright flowers beneath a sunny sky. Gamora was perched on Peter's lap, the little black device displayed beside them with little music notes around it. Groot was eating a flower, Mantis laughing at him, Drax watching fondly. Rocket and Loki were talking, sharing a bowl of some sort of candy.
"And this is recent," Loki guessed, sensing the same familial closeness in the drawing that he got from the Asgardian photographs.
"Couple weeks ago, actually," Peter answered, peering at it. "You haven't shown us that drawing yet. Then again, you usually don't, cause you're still paranoid about being mocked."
Loki huffed, flipping through other pages. "You would be, too, after a thousand years of my family."
"Probably," Peter agreed. "But Thor's cool now. Some of your stuff's even gonna hang up in the Asgardian palace. Once that's built, anyway."
"Really?" Loki asked, pausing on a shot of Gamora and Valkyrie leaning on a balcony, hair waving in the wind, drinks in hand as they chatted.
"Yup," he said. He tilted the picture towards him. "Damn, that's a good one."
"Do you… do you want it?"
Peter smiled. "Thanks, but I think we should wait for… your brain to get fixed before we do much."
Loki turned back to the garden drawing, staring at it. Something tugged at his mind, something brought on by the drawings, the pictures, this room… But when he got close to putting his tongue on it, it slipped away, back into an oblivion he couldn't penetrate.
"How?" he asked quietly, looking up at Peter.
Peter sighed, ducking his head for a moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "But first, we've gotta go to Xandar, drop off the Grandmaster. And Kraglin."
"Kraglin?"
"A Ravager friend. He came out to help the others rescue us, and now he's gotta sneak back to his crew and pretend he wasn't helping the good guys."
Peter stood up, gesturing at the door. "We should be getting to Xandar soon. Come on."
Loki set the sketchbook aside, following Peter out. He pointed things out along the way – things like "That's Rocket's junk heap, don't touch it." and "There's the kitchen, and bathroom – yes, we only have one for all seven of us, it's a nightmare." Until they were climbing up to the cockpit, where Rocket sat in the front left seat, Drax in the front right, and Groot in the back, with Gamora and Mantis standing off to the side.
"Sleeping beauty awakens!" Rocket announced, glancing back. "Good to see ya up and around again, Loki."
"Indeed," Drax agreed, dipping his head.
Gamora smiled, her own greeting smothered by Rocket. "Now, can ya turn that damn song off already Quill?"
"It's Loki's song!" Peter protested.
Loki stared, nose wrinkling. "I listen to that?"
"No," Gamora said. "Peter insists it's your theme song, and plays it to annoy you. Constantly."
"Forgive me for trying to jog his memory," Peter said.
"And what's your excuse the rest of the time?" Gamora retorted.
"Ok, then it's just fun."
"I like the song," Mantis muttered.
"Arriving at Xandar," Rocket announced. "Everybody grab a seat."
"He means that literally," Peter told Loki, taking hold of Groot's seat with one hand. Loki copied him, bracing himself; Gamora and Mantis took Rocket and Drax's seats, respectively. "We keep meaning to put more chairs up here, but, well, we're lazy."
Rocket piloted them down through the atmosphere, the bumpy ride stabilizing after a few moments as they descended towards a broad white landing platform that gradually came into view through a thick layer of pale grey clouds. The lack of direct sunlight didn't seem to make anything less blinding, though.
Peter, Drax, and Rocket went below to fetch the Grandmaster. Gamora led the rest of them outside, offering her arm to Loki as they emerged onto the tarmac. Loki took it, finding himself silently grateful for her familiar presence at his side as they approached a group of formally dressed people, headed by a lady with her pale hair wrapped in a braided updo, and backed by a line of armed guards. Gamora whispered names to him; Mantis stepped up on Loki's other side, hovering near but keeping her hands clasped in front of her.
"Greetings," the lead woman – Nova Prime – said as they neared.
"Hello," Gamora said, her voice holding a bladed edge.
Nova Prime smiled tightly. "I do apologize that I couldn't send my soldiers to aid in your rescue. I'm grateful everything worked out."
"Yeah, it really didn't," Peter grumbled bluntly. Grandmaster was at his side, gagged and cuffed, Peter's hand clenched tightly around his arm. Rocket and Drax flanked the prisoner, holding their preferred weapons. "Take this dude before I punch him."
At Nova Prime's nod, the guards hurried to obey. She maintained her tight smile, looking at Peter. "You are unharmed. Denarian Dey, please pay them."
The man standing to her right held out a unit chip, which Rocket took. They lingered ever so slightly over the contact, a silent understanding seeming to pass between them as their eyes met for half a moment. Then Rocket retreated to the group.
Peter stepped up to Nova Prime, bordering on invading her personal space as he towered over her despite her high heels. "Listen," he started, his voice low in warning. "I took a job from you, but you withheld vital information. Beb's connection to both Loki and Gamora got four of us captured, Loki tortured, and now Loki remembers nothing beyond his time with Thanos."
"All hazards of the job, Mr. Quill," she answered sharply.
"My team asked for help," Peter snapped. "From you, I expect that help, because your people lost the prisoners in the first place. And now, I have to go explain to his brother, the king of Asgard, what I allowed to happen because of you, and hope that his people can fix this. And if they can't, you just cost me a valuable teammate, my best friend. Do you understand that?"
"Mr. Quill-"
"I said, do you understand that?"
Her smile wavered, just barely managing to stay in place. "I will forewarn you about any connections to your teammates in the future."
"And?"
"…And I will send the assistance you ask for," she agreed through gritted teeth.
"Good," Peter said, turning on his heel. He jerked his head, not that the others needed the order to follow.
"Mr. Quill!"
"Don't look back, don't look back," he mumbled.
"I may know of someone who can help Prince Loki," she called.
Loki faltered, and Peter paused, glancing back at him. "Do you want to try that?" Peter asked. "Or Asgard's healers?"
"Asgard," Loki answered. That, at least, was more of a known than whatever she was offering. "But… it would be wise to have her information. Just in case."
Peter nodded. Visibly swallowing back his rage, he called, "Send us the info!"
"I will have Denarian Dey send you the relevant information," she replied.
"To Asgard we go, then," Peter said, climbing back into the ship. "You snuck away yet, Kraglin?"
Silence answered him.
"Sneaky dude," Peter commented. "All right, everybody take a seat. We're blowing this popsicle stand. Earth, here we come!"
A/N: Listen I know the Guardians' thing is like 70s music, but. The Zune could have songs from as late as 2012. So I mean. Theoretically we could indeed get that random Selena Gomez or Hannah Montana something and I would literally die laughing if James Gunn did that