Here's the interlude :

Song: The Chains - Fleetwood Mac

ARC 3: INTERLUDE I
Aufhebung

-0-

The Milano, reasonably sized for a crew of five and then some, was never still.

Someone was always on the move; be it Quill wiggling around like a dying annelid ("I'm dancing, okay?" "Are you sure? Doesn't look like it to me.") with his odd human contraption, Rocket fiddling ("I'm upgrading this trash someone–" he sneers at Quill's oblivious, drooling form, "–brought in.") with whatever he got his hands on, Drax trampling all over the mess Rocket left with the intention of cleaning up, or little Groot, grown enough to be able to walk on his own, curiously poking around anything within reach.

None of them kept to normal hours. Too used to having to be vigilant, too experienced to ever have a chance at sleep for longer than a handful of hours. They might have all started solitary—prickly and mistrusting and carrying weights much heavier than they could handle in the long-run—but living together in a small space for long stretches of time meant that there's always someone awake with another.

(There's always someone to clear away whatever images, whatever voices and sounds and memories haunted you.)

So it was a rare occurrence to be alone, to exist in the stillness of space and the silence of the Milano.

Gamora found herself reaching for Quill's music player, spending a few seconds to remember how to operate it, and settled down to sharpen her sword as the first notes of the song played in the background. Her movements were mechanical, practiced, meditative enough that she pursed her lips and focused on—

—can still hear you saying
You would never break the chain (Never break—

—the cycle of breathing in and out calmly. It has been years, a time long enough that she shouldn't let it consume her thoughts. But it was hard to ignore, hard not to—

—Run in the shadows
Damn your love, damn your—

—need to justify it to herself. Because until now, she wants to ask why. What was so worth it that she had to live, that he had to—

—break the silence—

—damn her in his place?

With a growl of frustration, Gamora threw her sword (her twin blades, precious and hers for the longest time, painted with so much blood that she wondered why she even bothered to clean it again and again and again) on the table, the loud clatter of metal and whatever junk it hit drowning out the wailing, disconcerting riffs of whatever human instrument was being played.

"Woah! Watch it! What did the speakers do to you?"

Gamora snapped her gaze towards the entrance where Quill stood, scruffy and freshly rolled out of bed. The human (half-human) blinked, still a bit dazed and growing more confused and alarmed by the second.

At her remaining silence, Quill's eyes jumped from her hand (and, huh, when did she grab the heavy, metal... thing?) to the music player that has changed songs somewhen between her anger and Quill's arrival. "Uh, would you mind putting that down?"

A beat.

And then Gamora relaxed, doing as asked. Really, it spoke of how much they knew each other that Quill didn't dare to step into the room until Gamora made the first move.

It was...touching, to see the concern, to feel like someone else knew her.

There was no 'would you like to talk about it?' like there had been when they were all adjusting to each other. It was a hypocritical question, because none of them ever wanted to talk about it. And somehow, just waiting was more worthwhile than asking about it. So that's what they did.

Quill waited.

And that was what it took.

"I had a...brother," Gamora started, arms crossing as she watched Quill making his way to a bench.

Quill made a sound, something between a scoff and something else. "Like, a real one or..." he made a sort of gesture that, while mostly unknown to her, Gamora understood. Thanos was almost a forbidden name to be spoken among them.

"He was kin and loyal to Thanos." Because while it was forbidden, it was harder for her to call him her father.

Quill frowned, catching her use of was despite usually being thick-headed. "What happened to him then?"

"I killed him," she said, voice tight and almost reluctant if not for her stubbornness, "or, more likely, he killed himself using my body."

"That's…" It wasn't hard to leave Quill at a loss for words, but in this moment, he was trying and Gamora couldn't muster up the annoyance that usually accompanied the look of confusion in his stupid face. "Is that good or bad? 'Cause that's one less minion for us to deal with, but, uh, were you close?"

That had always been the question, hadn't it? Even when she was young, Gamora hadn't been naive enough to not notice what he did for her. For so many times, she would have been punished, would have otherwise been dead had he not been there.

And then he… left. Betrayed her.

(Saved her. Forced her to see.)

"Thanos was heartbroken," She said instead. "And I realized that that wasn't the life I wanted."

"Heartbroken?" Quill looked taken-aback, incredulous and mystified as if it was such a foreign concept. Maybe it was, to everyone else who hadn't seen Thanos weep. It was a horrifying realization, a dangerous idea to entertain that such a monster could show his weakness freely.

It breeds sympathy, understanding that no lies and brain-washing could ever achieve.

Gamora had witnessed that and so she ran away, where her hatred and thirst for vengeance remained burning and dry instead of doused and quenched by his tears. Ran away because she feared that she would give away the only thing she could never afford to give Thanos if he looked at her like the mad man did to him.

"He saved me," Gamora whispered, unwilling to make her voice louder because it would be an admittance she cannot take back. "My kin, my brother. He damned me and I hate him for it."

-0-

When Mantis and Nebula got added into their motley crew, it was easy to fold them in. None of them kept normal hours: Nebula had the habit of staying in one place for hours while sharpening her blades or fiddling with her bionic parts, and Mantis stared out the windows in wonder, just as eager and curious as little Groot had been.

(Mantis is always there, ready and eager to help with her powers even if it wasn't always accepted. But the calm she exudes, the innocence that lay as an undercurrent for her entire being was welcome.)

No one had to be alone, and Gamora never had to use Quill's music player again.

And when she's plagued by thoughts of her past, of Thanos and Harrhan and whatever else there may be, Nebula sat in the shadows with—

—(Chain, keep us together) Run in the—

—silent companionship that they've had for years despite the jealousy and anger between them.

-0-

The Guardians were back in Xandar, refuelling and restocking their supplies at a discounted rate that had been granted to them since they helped the Nova Corps fight against Ronan. The Nova Prime had contacted them a mere few days ago, something about information on the other Stones.

It was rare. Talk of the Stones had always been one to earn immediate distrust, if not something that might get you killed, followed so it was by whispers of a tyrant who destroyed planets at just one mention of the powerful items. The last time the Guardians had ever heard about it was when they had dealt with the Power Stone themselves, and news of that never went past Xandar, perhaps even just remaining in its capitol. So there had been no time wasted before they packed up to heed the Nova Prime's call.

Xandar, as it had been the last couple of times they've stopped over, was a sight to sore eyes, especially when they just came from a planet festered with critters that produced an inordinate amount of pus, slime, and muck.

Gamora had to scrub her skin twice before she even felt a slight bit better, but her clothes had gone straight to an incinerator.

They were making their way from the hangar bay to the Nova Corps building, and Rocket was using that time to lecture his tree-like ward as had become the norm as Groot entered whatever equated to teenaged years in his species

"I'm telling you, it's for your own good! You need sunlight, Groot, and holing up in your room just 'cause you can't have what you want won't change my mind!"

"I am Groot!"

Everyone stilled, even Nebula who hadn't quite grasped Groot's language as much as she wanted. Rocket looked livid and scandalized all at the same time. "Quill!"

"It wasn't me!" Peter raised his hands in surrender, suddenly a good distance away from the angry creature. "I swear!"

Rocket growled but seemed to accept the pathetic plea, then turned to Groot, an admonishing finger pointed at his ward. "I do not want to hear that kind of language from you ever again, understand?"

"..."

"What was that?"

"I am Groot."

"Great!" Rocket exclaimed. "You're grounded for two weeks."

"I am Groot!"

"Yes, I can!"

And it continued on like that. It was a familiar sight, with Rocket seeming to evolve into a dad as Groot grew older. Gamora shook her head and looked away just in time to see Nebula's eyes shift guiltily.

Ah. Well, Gamora can be kind enough not to voice her thoughts. For all that Nebula was stoic, her hissed curses can be vicious and Gamora doubted her sister held her tongue around anyone.

They entered the Nova Prime's office like that, with Quill, Drax, and Rocket bickering, Gamora and Nebula quietly discussing what information the Nova Prime got her hands on, Groot sullenly trudging along, and Mantis bringing the rear as she took in the sights with wide eyes.

Inside, they were greeted by a really tall, really muscular man with blond locks, shining armor, a red cape, and a gleaming hammer-like weapon that sat strapped to his side. Gamora was quick to assess him, putting him down as a fighter who can claim immense wealth if the armor was to be judged.

A threat if they weren't inside the commander's office.

A handsome threat, at that.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Rocket took a moment to process what was exclaimed before kicking Peter on the shin. "And you tell me it wasn't you?!"

Nova Prime raised an eyebrow at the two idiots' antics, but seemed to dismiss it as she introduced the blond man, "This is Thor Odinson of Asgard."

"You must be the Guardians of the Galaxy," The way Odinson said it sounded almost condescending, "A strong name, yet one I've only heard of once or twice."

What came out of Peter's mouth might as well be called animalistic with how much stuttering he was doing.

"Asgard…" Drax stepped closer to Odinson, his stature both shorter yet larger than the other's. Odinson didn't seem bothered by the invasion of personal space. "I've heard of your kind. Arrogant and spoiled by gold and assured immortality. Protectors who fail to protect."

Gamora watched the growing anger in Odinson's face, the man's muscles tensing as Drax plowed on to rain an almost apathetic disgust he only shows to those he deemed dishonorable. Drax, as was usual, remained uncaring of how much danger he is putting himself in. Thankfully, Mantis had grown used to de-escalating whatever confrontations Drax starts.

The empath grabbed one of Odinson's hands, shaking it enthusiastically as her antennae glowed softly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Thor Odinson of Asgard!" Then her face fell, her sorrow easy to read. "Oh, you have suffered so much loss."

Expecting the usual reactions to Mantis, Gamora was surprised that instead of anger or fear, Odinson showed delight, "An empath! It has been a long time since I have met one!"

Swept away by the break-neck reaction of Odinson, Mantis bounced in place with a growing smile, part delight on her own and part in the lack of fear and anger from Odinson.

Peter was still spluttering in anger and Rocket had doubled over, wheezing in laughter at Peter's red-faced indignation. Drax was frowning at Odinson, seeming at a loss as he tried to tug Mantis away.

"Idiots," Gamora turned her attention towards the Nova Prime, "What was it you wanted to tell us?"

"The Allfather wishes to have an audience with you," Odinson cut in as Drax successfully dragged Mantis away. Nova Prime admirably kept a neutral face even as everything else about her screamed her displeasure. Drax definitely wasn't wrong about the arrogance.

Gamora frowned, trying to recall where she had heard of Asgard and the Allfather, but came up with the frustrating itch of knowing she knows yet not. "What is it about?"

Before Odinson could answer, Peter rather obviously placed himself between the team and the Asgardian. The half-human was puffed up while the taller blond looked on with a patronizing amusement. Gamora didn't bother to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

Men.

(But Peter is one of them, is theirs, hers, so she doesn't hold it against him as much as she did before.)

"Wait, wait, hold on, that didn't answer my question," Peter argued, the scowl on his face showing disgruntlement that Gamora wanted to poke at. It was easy to rile him up, and a lot of them, especially Rocket, took pleasure in doing so. "Asgard? Allfather? What are you talking about?"

"Ah," There was something in the way Odinson's amusement faltered that hinted at a tiredness that hid under all the pomp and boisterous arrogance of earlier. But it was quickly wiped away. "Yes, I would not expect you to have heard of us. It has been… centuries since we last ventured out of the nine realms. Asgard serves to protect the realms and its inhabitants to keep the peace. The Allfather presides over all the realms, the reigning King, and his word is law. Just as the title you claim, we are guardians."

Rocket scoffed but otherwise said nothing.

As Peter geared up for a pointless argument out of misplaced pride, Gamora considered what was said. If there was anything that she didn't begrudge herself, it was the knowledge and skills she had amassed through the years under Ronan and, to a lesser extent, Thanos. She knew a considerable amount of information on different species, races that were strong enough to pose a threat.

But Asgard…

She can't recall anything substantial. A glance to her sister told her the same thing. For whatever reason, Asgard wasn't deemed a threat.

Protectors who failed to protect, Drax had called them, spoiled, arrogant.

Gamora narrowed her eyes and grabbed Peter at the back of his neck to pull him away, cutting off the half-human's rant. She repeats the question she asked before Peter threw a tantrum, "What does the Allfather want us for?" Ignorance or not, Gamora certainly wasn't raised to be trusting, but she also wasn't about to snub a possible ally.

Odinson's amused countenance abruptly changed into a more serious one.

"What do you know of Thanos?"

Aufhebung - A term used in philosophy, Hegel described it to have contradictory implications of both preserving and changing, and eventually advancement. (Note: This definition is selective and not all it is. I suggest further research if you are curious about the concept.)

Quick notes:

-To me, Asgard seems to be a rather secular place; nine realms this, nine realms that as if nothing else beyond that exists. So, really, a greater part of the galaxy has forgotten about them (like Midgard did). Drax belongs to a warrior culture, so I reckon they'd have tales of the Asgardians.

-Gamora and Nebula trained under Ronan for quite a while. And though they are very capable, they were raised to be soldiers. Harrhan, as you recall, became what amounted to be a general. So there will be discrepancies between what they know.

Thank you so much for your continued support for this fic. I'm really sorry to those I haven't replied to, especially our dear guests. I can't promise that I will reply, but know that I read all your reviews and keep them close to my heart. Every now and again, I go back to read all of them and you have no idea how many times it has pulled me out of a funk. So really, thank you everyone.