Happy Holidays everyone!
And thanks for such a great response to the last chapter! I loved hearing all your guesses and speculation, I think y'all will be happy with who shows up…
Extra extra thanks to Kael, kaylee2019, breannakyle520, Rachel01160, MewWinx96, and AreWeThereYet for all your wonderful reviews!
Also, I can't believe I've been writing this story for a whole year now, thanks to all of you who have stuck it out with me.
Okay, sorry this chapter is a little shorter, but the Peter whump and feels are a little longer, so...
Chapter summary:
"You better not die now, you idiot...my sister needs you."
It's such a Nebula thing to say, and if Peter could laugh right now, he would, but he manages to ground out a pained reply.
"...Tryin'...not to..."
Nebula.
Peter doesn't know how or even why she's there, and he vaguely wonders if he's already dead because no way is Nebula here right now to help him.
He can vaguely hear voices arguing around him, but he can't really make out what they're saying, until moments later he is unceremoniously lifted up by a decidedly stronger, robotic body, which means without a doubt that Nebula is, in fact, really here. He isn't hallucinating this after all.
It's enough of a shock, the change in motion as she hoists him upright, that he's actually able to open his eyes again.
He's met with the cold, hard stare of Nebula as she pulls him to his feet—well really she's basically holding him up because there's no way he can stand on his own right now—but if Peter didn't know better, he'd say she actually looks worried.
He must really be dying then.
"...Nebula?" he chokes out incredulously as her face swims into focus in front of him, the change in elevation making the whole room dip and spin around him violently. "W-what?"
"Don't act so surprised," she snaps back, but her voice isn't nearly as harsh as it usually is as she tightens her grip on him, slinging one of his arms over her shoulders. He barely bites back a cry as she moves his battered body, and she hesitates for a moment, looking concerned—well as concerned looking as Nebula can get—before she continues. "Gamora called me for help. Clearly you idiots needed it."
"And you finally got her message, it's about damn time, " Rocket sighs in relief from somewhere on the floor by Peter's feet, but he's too afraid to look down and risk passing out again. "But how in the d'ast hell did you even get in h…"
"Enough," Nebula cuts Rocket off before he can continue. Really, they should never question her skill set. "We need to leave. Now."
"Yeah, not arguin' with ya there," Rocket quickly agrees. "We better move before those things catch up with us. We gotta grab Groot and Drax, and then I'll hack the codes to the escape pod, and we're outta here…"
He pauses, sounding unsure, before adding, "But we gotta find a way to get him outta this room first."
Peter assumes Rocket means him, because yeah, there's no way he's gonna be able to climb up and make it through the hole at the top of the damaged door.
But there's no other way out...that they know of.
"Then let's stop wasting time," Nebula says shortly, and then starts marching determinedly around the room, half-carrying, half-dragging Peter along with her, looking carefully along the seams of the wall panels. Peter chokes back cries of agony as she drags him along with her, inadvertently aggravating his wound even more, but there isn't a better way for them to move him right now.
"What are you doin'?" Rocket questions her as he runs along beside them. "Shouldn't we be figurin' out a way to open the door?"
Nebula just scoffs at him, shaking her head, and Peter swallows thickly against a wave of nausea as the world continues to spin around him. "I assumed you already knew that the door is damaged beyond repair."
"I do, I just don't have a better plan, but apparently you do," Rocket bristles in defense. "Care to share with us? We're sorta on a time crunch here!"
Peter doesn't have the energy to try and interject in their argument, but another groan of pain as Nebula drags him further along is effective in ending it, as they both turn to look at him with thinly veiled concern.
Nebula sighs, voice dropping from angry to serious. "I'm looking for the escape panel. All torture chambers, these rooms for...experimentation," she shudders for a moment before continuing, "are built to have an emergency access in or out of the room, in case things go badly."
She pauses, before adding quietly, "I would know."
And after what Thanos had put her and Gamora through, their whole lives...she most certainly would.
Rocket nods, grim understanding on his face. "Uh, got it. I'll just follow your lead."
He falls into a somber silence as Nebula continues carefully searching the wall panels, and Peter just does his best to try to stay conscious and try to stay quiet. Nebula's motions are doing nothing to quell his agony, but he knows she's trying to save his life here, so he tries to cling to that.
That, and thoughts of Gamora and their unborn child, who according to Rocket, is on its way right now.
That realization sends another surge of panic through him, knowing Gamora and the baby's lives are on the line, all because she risked everything to try and save them.
And Peter knows he's dying. He's been hurt enough times to know which injuries are serious—and he knows this isn't good. He's mortally wounded, and it's only a short matter of time before he's beyond saving.
If it isn't already too late.
He's startled out of his jumbled thoughts when Nebula pauses by the next wall panel, quickly feeling around the edges before she finds what she's looking for.
Activating some type of hidden lever or button along the seam of the wall panel, the panel immediately starts retracting, opening out into the main hallway of the ship, just as Nebula had said it would.
She doesn't waste time with any smug remarks, however, just turning to give a stiff nod at Rocket. "This way. Check to see if it's clear."
"On it," Rocket replies before scurrying through the escape panel and into the hallway, checking to see if the coast is clear from the golden monsters or any remaining Sovereign soldiers. There's no way they could out run them or even hope to fight them, with Peter's current condition.
As they wait for Rocket to give them the all clear, Nebula turns to look at Peter again, still slumped heavily against her side and trying really hard not to vomit on her feet.
He can feel her assessing him, and he tries to hide a grimace as she adjusts her hold on him, pulling him up more tightly against her. "Stay awake, Quill. If you lose consciousness now, you might not wake up again."
Peter swallows thickly, giving her a slow nod and staring at her through bleary eyes. "I'll...keep th't...in mind."
Rocket comes scrambling back in the escape panel a moment later. "C'mon, it's clear. Sounds like those things are still on the other side of the ship, but Drax and Groot won't be able to distract 'em much longer."
"Let's go," Nebula agrees, and follows after Rocket, quickly pulling Peter along with her through the opening and out into the main hallway.
It's still dark, the emergency lights still flashing from Gamora's earlier attack on the ship. Knowing there's no time to waste, Rocket runs down the hallway back towards where the escape pod is located, Nebula running along behind him as she drags Peter along, doing their best to remain quiet lest they draw the attention of the creatures over here.
But Peter can't help but cry out in pain as Nebula's now quick movements jar his already battered body, the wound in his side still unbelievably bleeding as he slumps his whole weight against her, barely able to keep up with her rapid pace. Again he's surprised that he's still somehow actually alive.
On instinct, Nebula clamps her non metal hand over Peter's mouth so as to not alert any nearby creatures or the remaining Sovereign soldiers—who might still be lurking around somewhere if they survived Gamora's attack—that might not have realized their presence yet, but it only serves to muffle Peter's cries of pain as she literally drags him along, Rocket dropping back beside them.
"C'mon Quill, we're almost there," Rocket whispers with a frown, but Peter can't reply, Nebula's hand still over his mouth as she pulls him along. He couldn't answer if he wanted to, just trying to hold back the screams that really want to leave his throat because oh God does everything hurt.
They round another corner, facing a long, dimly lit hallway, with a supply closet directly to their right. With a frustrated sigh, Nebula suddenly turns and drags Peter into the closet, out of sight of the main hallway.
"What the hell are you doin'?!" Rocket exclaims in a loud whisper, following along behind them inside, shutting the door gingerly before he rounds on Nebula again. "We gotta go!"
Peter tries not to cry out as Nebula slowly lowers him back to a sitting position on the floor inside the closet, panting heavily with his eyes screwed shut tightly in pain as he just tries to breathe through it.
With his eyes still closed, he hears Nebula answer with another sigh, or maybe growl. "He can't go on like this. He'll bleed out before we even get him off the ship."
Peter hears Rocket exhale heavily as he replies. "We have to try."
Nebula's answer is what makes Peter finally open his eyes again.
"You know what we need to do."
Rocket's ears flatten against his head as he clearly realizes what she means. "Ah, hell."
Peter still doesn't know what's going on, too confused from pain and blood loss to think clearly. He blinks heavily as he tries to focus on both of them in the darkness of the closet, slumped against the wall. "Why d-don't I...like th' sound 'f that?"
Nebula levels her hard gaze on him, and if he wasn't currently dying, he'd think she actually looked sympathetic. "Because it is going to hurt."
Peter just blinks at her in further confusion, because he doesn't know how anything could hurt more than what he feels right now.
"Quill, we gotta stop the bleeding," Rocket begins to explain, and Peter does not like the tone of his voice when he says it, like he knows something really bad is about to happen. "You're bleedin' out all over the d'ast ship, and we gotta stop it before it's too late."
"We must close the wound," Nebula adds matter-of-factly, and Peter swallows thickly, because he's slowly beginning to realize what they mean to do, even if it's in an effort to save his life.
"W-wait, wait j'st a second," Peter protests weakly, his eyes growing wide with fear. "There's gotta...gotta be 'nother way…"
"There isn't," Nebula shakes her head firmly. "And we don't have time. This must be done, if you want to live."
Peter does, he so badly wants to live, to be with Gamora and their child...but he knows this is about to be the most excruciating thing he's ever felt. A myriad of emotions pass over him before he nods slowly, wincing as it makes the world spin even more. He exhales heavily, determined to make eye contact with Nebula when he finally manages to answer. "O'kay, okay, f-fine...if it's th' only way."
"It's all we got," Rocket sighs, and Peter can hear the indecision in his tone, and he knows Rocket is torn, but that there are no better options right now.
Oh God, this is going to hurt.
"O-okay," Peter agrees shakily, hoping he sounds braver than he feels, "okay, j'st d-do it."
Nebula nods once stiffly, before she begins swiftly opening up the panel on her robotic arm, switching some wires around until her metal hand starts glowing, heating up like some sort of iron, steam visibly rising from it.
They are going to cauterize his wound, because it's the only way to stop the bleeding right now. They are literally going to burn his wound shut with her freaky glowing hand.
After a moment, Nebula looks back up, and her expression is soft as far as Nebula goes, especially towards him. She hesitates for a moment, before she sighs, giving him a determined look.
"You better not die now, you idiot...my sister needs you."
It's such a Nebula thing to say, and if Peter could laugh right now, he would, but he manages to ground out a pained reply.
"...Tryin'...not to..."
Nebula accepts his answer, before turning back to Rocket, careful to keep her glowing ember of a hand from touching either of them. "You need to keep him quiet. And help hold him still."
"Yeah, right, that'll be easy," Rocket scoffs, because he knows how bad this is going to be. He frowns, before leaning over and unceremoniously ripping off part of Peter's leather jacket sleeve with his claws.
"Hey," Peter protests weakly, but really he's at their total mercy right now. He really liked that jacket…
"Here," Rocket is hovering in front of him again, a conflicted look on his face. "You gotta, ah, hell, you...you gotta bite down on this, and try not to scream, before the whole place comes lookin' for us."
Peter swallows thickly, dubiously eyeing the strip of leather as well as he can with his swimming vision. He nods slowly, and hesitantly opens his mouth. Rocket inserts the leather strip, and Peter bites down, bracing himself for what's to come.
"Ah, sorry Quill," Rocket sighs, ears going flat against his head again, as he braces his paws firmly against his shoulders in an effort to keep him still. "This is gonna suck."
Peter just nods once again, still biting down on the leather strip for dear life, and looks anxiously over at Nebula as she slowly pulls up his ruined shirt and pulls his bloodied jacket aside, removing what's left of the space tape. They make eye contact once, her glowing hand hovering close to his skin now. He can already feel the heat emanating off of it.
"Ready?" She questions, one eyebrow raised.
He gives one last, stiff nod to answer her, before screwing his eyes shut and bracing himself.
Nebula doesn't hesitate a moment further—not like they have time to spare, anyways—and pushes her burning hot hand directly on top of his wound.
It takes a moment for the pain to register, his body a little disconnected from his brain...but then it does.
Peter feels like his whole body is on fire, the searing heat against the painful wound more than he can take. Even as he tries to hold himself still, to just try and ride it out, the pain quickly grows so intense that he is desperate to do anything to make it stop, to get away, and he starts struggling against them.
His back arches up off the wall, but Nebula and Rocket are both strong and he's already in a weakened state, and he can't get very far, holding him in place with their combined strength.
"Hold him!" Nebula growls, sitting on his legs and holding him back with her free arm as she pushes even harder against the wound with her glowing hand, searing his flesh closed and causing more pain than Peter's ever felt.
"I'm tryin'!" Rocket snaps back, pushing Peter's shoulders firmly back against the wall to hold him in place as she works. Peter can't help it, and even though he's biting down so hard on the leather strip he is nearly biting through it, he screams, the sound thankfully muffled against the restraint in his mouth.
"Keep him quiet," Nebula orders, but her voice sounds weirdly strained as she continues her work on Peter's wound.
"Just hang on, Quill, it's almost over," Rocket tries to reassure him, but Peter barely hears him, just desperate for the pain to stop. "C'mon man, just breathe!"
Everything hurts everything hurts oh God he's gonna die he can't survive this….
It feels like an eternity that they are holding him down, burning him alive, and Peter's whole body is shaking now, tears rolling down his face as he continues to emit muffled screams against the leather bind between his teeth.
"He can't take much more of this!" he hears Rocket snap angrily under his breath.
"There's no other way," Nebula replies dangerously, "unless you want me to kill him faster."
There's a few more angry, hushed exchanges between Rocket and Nebula, but Peter can barely hear them anymore.
Pain pain painpainpain so much pain...
Finally, finally, just as Peter is absolutely sure he can't take it anymore, he distantly hears Nebula say, "There, it's done. The wound is closed."
"Oh, thank fuck," Rocket breathes in answer, finally relenting in his death grip on Peter's shoulders. "Quill, you okay?"
It's a rhetorical question, really, because they all know that he is most definitely not okay.
But Peter can't answer him, can't do anything, feeling bizarrely disconnected from his body now. His eyes are so heavy it feels like weights are pulling them closed, and he can't open them with any amount of effort.
And the darkness is back, pulling him down, down, down…
He's still gonna die after all, despite theit best efforts.
He distantly feels someone shaking him now, hears voices calling for him.
"Quill, you with us?"
"Answer us right now."
"Quill, c'mon man, stay with us! Quill!"
But Peter can't answer, can't move, can't do anything but fade away.
He'd tried, he'd tried so so hard to make it back to Gamora and their child…
I'm sorry.
Gamora's beautiful face flashes before his eyes one last time...and then everything goes dark.