"The boy's people defeated you," Drax told him, and those who knew him saw that he was amused by that. "You barely made it through the door."
"We were outnumbered," Quill replied, automatically – and somewhat defensively. "Who are you?" he added, looking at Tony, recognizing that he was probably the one in charge.
Or the one with the most armor on, anyway.
"Tony Stark. You?"
"Peter Quill."
They didn't shake hands – or even offer to do so. Despite Peter's assurances, Tony didn't like having the man in his compound – especially knowing that he'd tried to grab Peter. No matter what the reason. Never mind the additional aliens that he'd brought with him.
"How do you feel?" Gamora asked him and Rocket, both.
"My head hurts," Rocket complained.
"Fine," Quill said, at the same time.
"I'm sorry," Peter said from the doorway. "I overreacted."
Both of them looked at the boy, chagrined to have been taken out by someone so unassuming, and then at Gamora.
"Is he the one, then?" Quill asked her.
"Yes."
"'The one?'" Strange repeated.
"That she dreamed about," Rocket asked. "The one who is in danger."
"From what?" Tony asked, the same moment Stephen opened his mouth to ask.
"I'm not sure," Gamora replied. "But it's not just him. Something terrible is coming, and he's in the middle of it."
"If he is the reason for it, we should just kill him," Drax said, reasonably.
Predictably, that didn't go over well. Tony's hand came up, the repulser already making the deadly noise that indicated it was engaged. Stephen's hands both were suddenly glowing, and every SHIELD agent in the corridor who heard him was suddenly tense, the silence following that particular statement deafened by the sound of several rounds being chambered into weapons.
Surprisingly, there was suddenly a tree branch wrapping around Peter, and he found Groot pulling him back, behind him, much in the same way Tony did whenever he thought there was a danger to Peter.
"I am groot!" the young tree snapped at Drax, even as the others all tensed, further, at the manhandling – and even Peter Quill had enough sense to realize that they were out-numbered and the comment hadn't been the brightest.
"Relax," Rocket said, to Groot. "No one's killing anyone." He turned to Drax. "He's a kid, Drax. You know better than that."
He should, anyway, came the unspoken and implied inflection. Drax had been a father.
Tony's hand didn't come down, and the others were following his lead, all still tense. Gamora spoke, next, and she was talking to Drax when she did.
"He isn't the cause of the trouble coming, Drax," she told him. "The opposite, really. He might end up being part of the solution."
The large man looked at her, blankly, for a moment, seemingly unconcerned by the weapons that were all turned on him. Then he smiled.
"We should probably not kill him, then."
"You think?" Quill asked, sarcastically. "Besides, Rocket's right. We didn't come this far to meet him, only to hurt him."
Tony didn't look mollified, but Strange did bring his hands down, and the glow faded.
"Why don't we all go sit down?" he suggested. "Then you can tell us what exactly you are doing here…"
And Tony could have a drink. He definitely looked like he needed one.
"Good idea," Gamora approved, looking at Stark, who was still watching Drax, although he clearly wasn't sure what to think of the way the tree had suddenly formed so many branches and had a fairly firm hold on Peter. Only the fact that the boy wasn't stressed about it, and the tree had put itself between Drax and Peter were stopping him from going completely ape-shit at the contact. "Do you have a place we can talk?"
Peter was looking at Tony, too, and he understood completely why things were still so tense in the corridor. He didn't need Alec to explain that to him, he simply had to look at the expression on his father's face. And how pale it had gone at the blatant threat.
"We could go to the lounge," he suggested, directing the comment to Tony.
Stark scowled, and grudgingly lowered his hand, finally. The SHIELD people relaxed, nominally, as well, when he did.
"Yeah. Let's go to the lounge." He nodded to the leader of the SHIELD people. "We've got this," he assured her. "Thanks for the assist."
She hesitated, still looking at the others – Drax in particular – suspiciously, but then nodded and waved her people back to whatever posts they were supposed to be at, and the area was soon a lot less crowded – even though she stayed, just in case, and her hand never strayed far from the now holstered weapon she was carrying.
"Thank you," Peter said, looking at the tree, who was now releasing him from the branches that had been holding him.
"I am groot."
"What did he say?" Tony asked.
"He said you're welcome," Rocket translated. "And that the kid doesn't need to worry about Drax, that he might say things like that, but he doesn't really mean them."
The billionaire frowned.
"He only said three words…"
The racoon shrugged.
"It translates differently from Groot."
"Come on," Strange said, looking at Groot with interest, but well aware that Tony was probably the most volatile person in the hallway, just then. A clear indicator of that was the fact that he hadn't retracted the Ironman armor – as if he still anticipated the need to use it and its considerable weaponry. "I can't wait to hear this..."
Tony looked at him, and then at Peter – and finally at Drax, one more time. Then he nodded.
"Yeah."
"Where's Pepper?" Stephen asked, curiously.
"Shit. Friday? Give Pepper the all clear and ask her to come to the lounge."
"Who's he talking to?" Drax asked.
"The air," Mantis replied.
They all turned and followed the SHIELD agent, but Groot hung back with Peter – as did Tony.
"You're okay?" he asked Peter.
"Yeah."
The cloak on Stephen's collar detached itself, then, from where he was walking with Quill and Gamora – and clearly checking Rocket out – and swooped in to settle itself on Peter's shoulder. Obviously, it had decided that the danger was past, or it wouldn't have left Strange. The tree's eyes widened – it was the craziest thing to see – and he looked at Peter.
"I am groot?"
The boy smiled – and even Tony lost the suspicious look at the incredulous question. It was a walking, talking tree, and it was amazed by a floating piece of fabric?
"It's a cloak," Peter replied, in English. "And a friend of mine."
The fabric caressed Peter's cheek, and Groot reached out a tendril of a branch toward it. Tony watched, wondering why he suddenly had the feeling that the tree guy was maybe not all that old. It certainly seemed to hold the same qualities of wonder that Shuri and even Peter and Ned did when they saw something so unusual. He waited for the cloak to slap the branch away – it didn't like people touching it (or Peter) – and Tony knew it.
Instead, a corner that wasn't busy reassuring itself no harm had come to Peter lifted enough to intercept the branch and it held still to allow the tree to touch it.
"I am groot."
"It's magic," Peter replied. Then he looked at Tony. "He asked how it flies."
"Oh." He hesitated. "You stay away from Drax. Got it?"
"He's not going to hurt me."
"Peter…"
There was a time to be adorably naive, but this wasn't it.
The boy shrugged, understanding that Tony wasn't quite ready to forget the threat made to him by the alien.
"I'll stay clear."
"I am groot," the tree added, turning from the cloth it was touching to look directly at Tony.
"What did he say?"
"He said he'll keep an eye on me."
Stark rolled his eyes.
"Your mother is not going to like this…"