*A/N: I cannot begin to say how SORRY I am that it took so long to get this out. Long story short, I had a bad health scare and I was in and out of the hospital for over a month then I needed time to work some things out. I also took some time to rewrite the ending of 'When He's Needed Most', I was not a fan of how I originally ended it.

Anyway, I hope you all aren't too mad at me. I'll try to update again real soon. This chapter is kind of short. I wanted to get something out to you guys after leaving you on that horrible cliff hanger for a few months. Please drop a review in my mailbox and let me know how it's going in your opinion. All opinions are welcome. Thanks for hanging in there and once again, I do apologize.

Song Insert:

Ambrosia- How Much I Feel (Probably one of my fave of all time.)

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Four: Ghost of You

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One Month Later

Peter laid in his bed, staring vacantly at the wall across the room from him as Ambrosia 'How Much I Feel' played softly in the background. He spent most of his days locked away in his room. There were too many memories of her wherever he went. He could still hear the fleeting reverberations of her joyous, melodic laughter haunting him, echoing through the cold hallways of The Milano. The star craft that had once been his sanctuary, his very own pie in the sky, now felt empty and way too big, even with the four other passengers residing on board. They were worried about Peter, that much he knew to be true, but he couldn't bring himself to even fake being his normal witty and sarcastic self. He would leave his quarters for no longer than what was necessary. Usually to scrounge around in the kitchenette or to check on the status reports of the ship's mainframe in the cockpit.

Sure, Peter's room had been their room during her short stay within the reemergence in his life but if he imagined hard enough, he could pretend that she was merely in their bathroom or practicing her dancing in the lower hanger. The same room where he had the most pleasurable and yet, most painful memories that Peter unwittingly tortured himself with.

She may not be there but somehow; she was everywhere at once.

She.

Peter couldn't bring himself to think her name, much less say it out loud. It was annoyingly pathetic.

He didn't, couldn't care though.

Peter was so lost in his own brooding that he didn't hear the pounding coming from his bedroom door. It creaked loudly as it was opened, his redden eyes flitting towards the unwanted intruder.

Rocket glanced around the room heavily, a low sigh escaping his mouth.

"Dude, you got to get up. You've been in here forever and you are desperately in need of a shower. Not to mention the wallowing is getting really old."

Peter sat up, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. "I'm not wallowing."

Rocket scoffed. "Yeah, and I'm secretly a small hummie in a furry suit."

"You're barely eating, which says something right there, tubby. Not to mention your hygiene has taken a turn for the worst. We share close quarters here and it's considerate for others if you bathe on occasion. And the music, my god, the music! It's the same eight self-pity, lovelorn songs over and over again. You gotta shake this funk off, dude. She's gone, man."

Peter's head snapped up, fuming. This wasn't any of his concern. Rocket didn't even care for her.

"That's right. She made her own choice, like it or not, you have to live with it. You don't get to shut down and push everyone away."

Peter rolled his eyes, turning to look down at Rocket.

"That's rich coming from the emotionally stunted."

Rocket threw his hands up. "Fine, whatever. If you want to slowly waste away in your own filth, that's your call. We're nearing the Sovereign system now for that job I told you about with those golden weirdos. You're more than welcome to join us in making money once you shower and put on some pants that don't make you look like you should be hovering around a hobo fire ring."

That said, he turned and slammed the door behind him.

Peter flopped back on to the bed, curling onto his side. He reached over to his nightstand, pulling a gold line picture frame towards him. His bottom lip shook as his fingers ran slowly over the smiling faces of the two of them. They had their picture taken together during their date on Rodahir at a small kiosk on the way to the night club. Peter had turned away from the camera, giving her cheek a large, obnoxious kiss. In the picture, her eyelids were nearly shut, adorning a wide, face splitting smile, as though thoroughly reveling in the affection that he showered upon her lovely cheek.

Her bright, infectious smile lit up her face, bringing a sad and bittersweet one to Peter's own. He was torturing himself but by god, he missed her so much. The bedroom feeling cold and empty now with just his own self occupying the space.

He pulled the pillow that she had been using closer, inhaling. Even the scent of her had faded away. Peter never thought he would long for a small hint of jasmine and lavender, but he now craved it.

Craved her, to be exact. His… his Dani.

A small flicker within him began to grow as Rocket's words danced through his head.

(She's made her choice… you don't get to shut down and push everyone away.)

It was difficult to admit it, but his friend was right. As much as every fiber of his being cried out for Dani, she had left him, broken and bleeding. He stilled loved her as well as knew that she loved him, but Rocket was right, he couldn't shut down anymore. He had to keep going, keep moving forward.

Hearing the Ambrosia tune slowly fading, he heeded Rocket's harsh advice and snatched up his remote for his stereo and select the randomize feature.

He chuckled humorlessly to himself which turned into full blown laughter when The Five Stairsteps 'O-o-h Child' began. Peter rolled onto his back, rubbing his face vigorously, his hands lingered in his hair as he contemplated the coincidence of this song being the first to play outside his mopey playlist he had been clinging to as of late.

As the song played on, a new realization filled him.

This was what life was about. For the first time in his adult life, he had fallen hard for a woman and ended up with his heart broken in the end. As much as all this sucked, Peter knew that he had to keep going.

He would love Dani with everything he was for the rest of his life, but he needed to move on.

Sitting up and laying her pillow back down at the head of the bed, Peter rolled his head, hearing his neck pop a few times out of stiffness. Thinking even more on what Rocket said, he tentatively took a sniff of his underarm, his eyes widening dramatically.

"Damn you, rodent, for being right. For once."

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Four Months After

Dani sat in the grass; the ground was still damp from the torrential rainfall a week ago. Her back side was soaked but she didn't have it in her to care. She somberly raised her eyes up to the gravestone in front of her.

Terrance Anthony Patrick

September 25, 1979 – December 26, 2014

Brother Son Soul Mate

Though You May Be Gone, Your Spirit Lives with Those Who Loved You Most

Five Months.

It felt more like years to Dani. Each day seemed to never end and when it finally did, it closed with Dani lying in her bed, clutching her pillow tightly to her chest as she sobbed.

She cried for her brother, her parents, for her friends who were somewhere halfway across the galaxy. Every night, Dani said a silent prayer for their safety. She prayed that they were all alive and that their lives were full and that they were happy.

Despite this, there were times though when she was feeling especially weak that she allowed herself to think about one in particular.

Peter, her Star Lord.

Most of the time, she had to force herself to push any thought of him to the back of her mind. Whenever her treacherous thoughts strayed to his handsome face, the support beams Dani was rebuilding in her heart splintered and came crashing down into rubble, sending her spiraling down a hole of self-loathing. Originally, she had herself convinced that leaving was for the best and that she would feel the loss of his presence less and less.

Yet, the more time passed, the emptier she felt inside. Like she was being hollowed out.

She found herself wondering from time to time if it was possible to die from a broken heart. She had no appetite, no energy for the things that she used to love, even dancing felt forced and unbearable.

At the rate the ever-growing hole in her chest expanded, she wondered morosely if it was only a matter of time before she would be laid to rest, next to Terry and her parents.

A sick and tiny yet still present part wondered if it would be better to just not feel anymore.

To just let go and not have to endure every empty day without her other half.

Dani was tired of trying, of even existing and it scared her.

She had chosen the wrong path; Dani knew that now. She voluntarily broke herself with all good intentions and had no idea on how to fix it.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

Dani tore her gaze from Terry's tombstone to look up at the speaker.

Amelia stood awkwardly back a few feet away. She offered her hand to assist in helping Dani up which she glared at the offered gesture, ice hardening in her eyes.

Ignoring the boost up, she stood up, brushing the dirt and dewy grass off her jeans before stomping purposely away.

"Dani! Please, talk to me! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I've apologized over and over." Amelia called out in distress, following her friend who steadily ignored her.

"You are right. I should've said something sooner. Terry was going to tell you that night, that was the main reason he returned to St. Charles." Amelia still pleaded, now chasing after Dani.

Dani fumed quietly. In her opinion, Amelia had no right to even speak of her brother. Not after what she did.

"Screw this." The redhead huffed, fully running to pass her up and swing around to block Dani's determined retreat to her Outback. By god, she was going to listen to what she had to say.

She slowed, not making eye contact.

"Get out of my way, Mitchell." She whispered, barely restrained in her anger.

Not taking that as an answer, Amelia stood her ground, crossing her arms and bracing her feet firmly apart.

"Not until we talk."

Dani clenched her jaw, anger spiking through her veins. "Move or I'll move you."

"I don't give a rat's ass if SheRa taught you how to kill a man with your pinkie or whatever. You wanna hit me then just do it and get it out of your system. I need my friend back.' She paused, her voice wavering. 'It's killing me to see you like this."

Taking a steady breath for composure, Dani tightened her denim jacket around her.

"Fine. You wanna talk? We'll talk. Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why did I have to receive a call through the coroner's office instead of the woman who claims to love me like a sister?" She asked, her voice ice hard.

"He was dead, Dani. I didn't think it would make a difference. The cancer had spread too far through his body for any type of treatment to help. Docs said he had only months left. He was going to tell you the night we were taken. I think he only told me when we were transported because, in his mind, he was already dead and there was nothing left to lose." Amelia slowed, gathering herself.

"We thought we'd never see you, see home again. I was too chicken shit to tell you. I couldn't bare putting you through any more pain…"

"But you told Peter?"

Dani had piece his odd behavior together on her own from the night before the stadium infiltration.

"I was going to tell you, but I didn't know how. I thought that Peter would be able to give me advice on how to break the terrible news to you. And well, I was also hoping that I wouldn't have to. If Terry had survived the rescue, he would've wanted to be the one to tell you-"

At that point, Amelia's composure finally crumbled, her voice breaking and a stray tear running down her cheek.

"I'm so, so sorry, Dani." She was fully crying now, weakening the hardened resolve that Dani had been clinging to the past few months.

Amelia had been right; she should have told Dani instead of keeping her silence. It was a rotten thing to do but upon finally hearing her out, she did realize that Amelia's hesitance was warranted.

Terry was already dead, and she simply wanted to spare Dani anymore heartache. She couldn't fault her for that, not anymore.

Unable to stand stonily back, she stepped forward, wrapping Amelia up in a firm embrace, tears of her own pricking away at her eyes. Now was not the time for Dani to cry. She already had a nightly ritual of that, and she didn't need anymore of it in her life if she could help it.

After a few, gut wrenching moments, Amelia slowly pulled back, sniffling as her mascara ran from her puffy eyes. Dani grimaced, reaching up and wiping at her friend's face gently.

"How about we go home? I'll make some tea; we'll talk more and catch up. Is that okay?" She suggested, receiving a shaky nod.

"Only if it's spiked."

Dani laughed as she turned, leading Amelia towards her vehicle.

"As if there's any other way to drink it."

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