A bit of both: the second Holiday special; Holiday harder.

As always, I'm not sure how this follows from the previous chapter, or if it follows at all. It may not. It may be in an entirely parallel canon. It may be both canon and not, like the Moonlighting Christmas special, to borrow from one of Quill's cultural reference points. I'm not yet sure. What did you expect?

I hope this finds you all with your families, whoever they may be.

BunnyRock.

Quill went into his second life-day with the guardians feeling a little better about things than the last.

They'd spent a good time recovering from their last job, no-one was injured, for once, and they had some units in the bank that they hadn't had to use to pay off angry officials, pay for damages, or been syphoned of into some complicated confidence scheme by Rocket. They were on the stopover at Precipice on the way back to Knowhere, an aptly named space station orbiting worryingly close to the event horizon of medium sized black hole, and while the place was a glorified truck-stop, the station government was friendly, the food and booze was good, cheap and came in generous servings, and the views were spectacular: the hole was striping gas from a doomed dwarf star, and the constant streamers of light falling into the utter black, plus the artificial aurora where the black hole's Hawking radiation hit the stations shield were stunning.

Humming "sleigh ride" under his breath as he covered Groot in tinsel (they'd offered up another emergency blanket on the altar of decoration) Quill felt pretty good. "Looking pretty snazy there Giving Tree." He said.

"I am Groot!" boomed a contented voice from above Quill's Santa-hatted head. And to be fair, he did look pretty good, the tinsel supplemented by lights, paper chains and a series of truly hideous vaguely life day themed gewgaws Rocket had picked up at a suspiciously discounted price from that well known retailer "Some place, what's it to you? Who frickin' said anything about decorations? Shut up and help me get the boxes in before someone sees. And don't open the envelope in the third box." To Quill's tastes some spray on snow or at least some silly string would improve the overall ambience, but the closest that had to either was Rockets spray-on dry lubricant, which stunk the ship out, or the spray on det cord, which wasn't to be considered, not after the horrors of the last new-years party.

Drax was roasting a lizard, Gamora wrapping presents with the customary barrage of cursing that indicated someone was getting something awkwardly shaped, and Rocket "Fixing" the egg-nog, which he's complained didn't have quite the right mix of sugar, spice and rum.

"How's it coming along Ranger?" Quill asked, hanging a bauble onto Groot's shoulder, and another on the twig that had sprouted from his forehead, trying not to wonder what "Space-Kwanzaa" was and why Rocket had taken his money and come back with a dozen cases of decorations for it. He didn't even want to ask about the number of decorations that seemed to be for "The Gabriel Lan memorial dinner" including what looked like a plaque ripped off a wall somewhere, but at least Rocket was getting into the spirit of it. Sort of. Kind of. He guessed.

Rocket grunted, and delicately took a spoonful of the eggnog, blowing on it before sniffing it very carefully, whiskers twitching. He took a quick, appraising sip of the purple liquid, and then drew in breath, sucking it over his tongue noisily like a wine taster before frowning, and getting out a bottle of cheap, powerful rum and carefully measuring out a table-spoon full, right to the meniscus. He then drunk the spoonful and poured the bottle of rum into the pot. "Nearly there." He said, chucking the empty bottle over his shoulder where it clunked onto the drift with the others.

"Uhuh? You do realise it's traditional to be able to drink that stuff around an open fire? If you have to keep it away from naked flames it's kind of missing the point."

"Bite me, Star-bore. You don't need to deal with an overgrown overexcited woodenheaded clingy child."

"Ahh come on, Groot's as good as gold!" he said, hugging the tree-man playfully and then turning to Rocket, as, outside of his vision, Groot saw his own distorted reflection in a bauble and his face lit up.

"I am Groot?" he asked, in greeting. He loved meeting new people.

"I wasn't talking about Groot." Muttered Rocket. As Groot lurched across the room arms raised to hug the stranger, ripping the tree lights out of the socket and snaring Quill's leg in the cable and jerking him off his feet with a yelp.

"Groot, Groot buddy, little help oh god not the stairs! Ahhhhhhhhh!"

"I am Groot!"

Thonk-thonk-thonk-thonk

Rocket made a tisk noise, and then turned to Drax. "Need a hand with the roast?" he asked.

And by fits and starts, Christmas happened.


"Quill!" came Gamora's voice from down the stairs to her cabin.

"Hummm?" said Quill, clutching the icepack to his head and drinking his third eggnog on the rocks with Rocket, and thinking that Eggnog like this was how Westpoint riots started. Groot was still happily chasing himself around the ship in the background.

"We're out of tape, could you nip to the store for me and grab some?"

Quill checked the time on the holo. "How long until the food's ready?" he asked Drax.

"At least an hour. It would be sooner if you would cease getting in the way." He said.

"What do you mean?" asked Quill. He then paused and looked to Rocket. The two of them were sitting on the kitchen counter, directly between where Drax was chopping, and the pot on the hob. He stood there glaring for a moment, with a slice of endo-tuber sliding down the blades of his knife, before Quill got the hint.

"Right. I'll just go grab some suplies before the shops close for the night."

"I could go. It'd be cheaper." said Rocket, swaying slightly.

"Yeah, because what we really want is more stuff courtesy of Gabriel Lan." Quill muttered, strapping on his blasters. "I'll go. I don't want to have to spend new-years bailing anybody out."

"With me? I'd be back here before you got my one com's call."

Quill snorted, and walked out, still humming a festive tune under his breath.


His good mood lasted a full ten minutes.

Denarian Dey called as he was juggling groceries in the queue at the general store.

"Quill?"

"Hey DD! Got another job for us, or just calling to wish us a happy life day, Dey?"

"DD? We don't all have striper-names, Starlord. Besides, shouldn't it be RD?"

"Wait, cop's have first names? Heh. Who knew? So how's tricks?" said Quill, shuffling sideways to reach his credit-slip without dropping his bags.

"Quill, this isn't a social call. You remember Benoit Ker?"

"Sure: Rich guy, bit of a yuppie, a little two-dimensional; particularly after Drax landed the ship on him. Tired to torture me to death. Why?" he said, holding out his thumb and pressing it to the slip to completed the sale, trying to ignore the hyperactive sugar-drunk kids running around the shop and the guys in the queue behind him jostling.

"Yeah, that's the one. The thing is, Quill, there tend to be consequences to flattening billionaires, and one of them just popped up on our network of informants. I'm sending you the intel: Here."

Quill flicked open his pocket map-projector, and watched as a slew of data begun to scroll down the display. Quill was passingly familiar with police wrap sheets, he'd seen his enough times, and instantly something struck him.

"Ummm… shouldn't there be a mug shot? Or, yanno, a name?" he said. Dey snorted.

"We'd need to catch him first. Or her. Or it; the guy's a ghosts. No DNA, no witnesses, no forensics. Just a series of anonymous bank accounts people pay money into to ensure other people end up dead. And given Ker's death made a whole series of his flunkies and a ton of his investors worse off, someone paid a lot into one of those accounts with your name on it."

"Wait, so I'm getting the money?"

"You know what I meant, Quill. you're getting a visit from a top assassin."

Quill frowned. "But this is so unfair! I didn't kill him, it was Drax. Why do I get the wicked witch of the west after me just 'cause it was my farmhouse dropped on him?"

"Well, maybe it's the fact that you were the one seen on TV announcing his death: you have gone out of your way to make yourself the most recognisable of the Guardians."

"No I haven't!"

"Mister Starlord?" asked one of the kids, tugging at his coat. "Mister Starlord? I recognised you from your stamp. Could you sign my sportsball cards?"

"Sure." Said Quill, leaning down to sign the cards, only half-way through realising that maybe Dey had a point.

"Okay, so I've painted a target on myself. What can I expect?"

"The guy's MO is… odd. He seems to be able to arrange legitimate accidents or drive his victims to suicide. That's how he hasn't got caught. He doesn't use weapons, just arranges his victims to kill themselves somehow."

"Hey buddy, can you not have this conversation at the front of the queue?" said the guy behind him.

"Sorry." Said Quill, stepping aside. He frowned. "Mind-control?"

"We Guess. Not sure. He's been doing it for a couple of years, but I we can't catch him we can't find out."

"Huh. Well, if it is mind control, I might be okay. If not… I'll be on my guard. Thanks for the heads up." He said, hanging up as he turned to leave the store. As he did, he bumped into the guy behind him in the queue. They stumbled and Quill's Santa hat fell off, as the guy dropped his shopping. There was a brief flurry of apologies as they tried to grab the spilt goods, and Quill finally got the man's stuff back to him, as the man apologised again.

"No Problem." Said Quill. "Happy Life-day."

The man grinned nervously, and handed Quill back the hat. "Happy life day!" he echoed, and Quill walked out putting eh hat back on one-handed. He felt weirdly dizzy, clutching his head. He guessed the call must have rattled him.

Quill got half way to the Milano, and was crossing over the large bridge that separated the two half's of the station, perilously hanging over the drop to the black hole, there was a sheer drop down to it, but the station's energy-shielding kept the atmosphere in, and unlike some places he could name they actually believed in railings. He had got half way there, when his com rung again.

"Yeah?" he asked, a little more harshly than he had intended: Dey's call had shaken him .

"Is this the owner of the Milano?"

"Yeah, speaking?"

"Hi, station security. Sorry to do this on life day eve, but you're parked unlawfully. Can you move her and pay a fifty-unit fine, or we'll have to impound her."

Quill swore, quietly. But then said. "Fifty? sure, no problem. Do you accept remote unit transfer?" he asked, reaching for his credit slip. He then reached again. And again.

"God dammit! Those kids got my wallet. Hey, station security? Can I report a theft? And can you call Xandar central bank and freeze my slip?"

"Sure. You want me to run a credit-check, make sure your balance is the same as before?"

"Nah, no need. They couldn't use my card unless they got my thumbprint or… or my signature. God-dammed kids!" he cursed. "Little shits' got my signature! Give me the credit-check."

"Okay… let me check. P. J. Quill… uh…"

"Uh?" asked Quill, with rising anger. "I had sixty grand in there an hour ago."

"Sir, your account is in debit. You, you're overdrawn to the maximum thousand-unit overdraft. You have no money."

Quill swore, at length and for some time. "That's a Nova-Corp. backed account! How did the little fuckers clean me out so fast?" he groaned. "Aww shit. I had the others' cash from that last job resting in that account too. Rocket is going to kill me!"

"Sir, I could put you in contact with our fraud team…"

"Yeah, yeah you do that. You'd better catch those kids before my first-mate does, that's all I'm saying…."

"Sir, I hate to say this… but am I to understand you can't pay you're parking tickets? Our impound regulations are very clear."

Quill Froze up for a moment, and then ripped off his com-unit and flung it to the ground. He jumped on it a couple of times, before deciding that as it was part of his HUD he'd better put it back in.

Fuck fuck fuck fuckety fuck… how am I going to tell the crew, they'll kill me. He thought, walking up the steps of the ship, feeling dead and numb.

Inside was the usual festive chaos, that was to say, Rocket was standing on the table, eyes somewhat unfocused and singing an old merc's brawdy song as if he had a larger than normal grudge against the composer, or the concept of singing in tune, while Gamora tried not to fall of her chair laughing: Rocket had got a bauble accidentally hung on his tail, and didn't seemed to have noticed it yet. Even Drax seemed amused by it.

Quill sat down on the steps to the cockpit, feeling dead.

Groot saw him and rushed over, wanting a hug. "I am Groot I am Groot I am Groot!"

"Not now Groot."

"-I am a pheasant plucker, I've had a pheasant plucking life-"

""I am Groot I am Groot I am Groot!-"

"Not now!"

Quill put his hand in his heads, and tried not to cry.

"-and I'm only plucking Pheasants 'til the pheasant plucking's-"

"-I am Groot I am Groot I am Groot-"

"Oh shut UP!" screamed Quill. "Shut the fuck up, you leafy fool! Learn fucking English! You said we are Groot once, so you can't learn new words. Learn these ones: Shut. The. FUCK up!" he yelled.

The crew fell silent, and stared.

"God, you people! Can't you just… just." Quill snorted, and stormed off. Turning his back on them with tears in his eyes.

Quill stumbled out of the ship, trying not to think about how hurt Groot had looked. About how hurt they would all look when they found out. About how it had all gone wrong.

He leaned up against the bridge, stating down into the void.

"Oh god I've fucked up." He said. "Jesus… sometimes it like I wish I had never formed the Guardians! I wish I never been born!"

There was a pop of displacing air to one side of Quill, and a voice boomed. "Be not afraid!"

Quill screamed with fright and punched the figure next to him in the mouth.

The figure reeled back. "Motherfucker." He muttered, rubbing at his jaw. "You've got a good punch." He muttered. Quill stared.

The man he'd just punched was a dead ringer for a certain Peter Jason Quill.

Quill stared. "Okay, I've gone insane."

The figure rubbed his jaw, and said. "Ugg… how far did I get?"

"Huh?"

"How far did I get though the speech?"

"Ummm… Be not afraid? Are you a terminator?"

"A what!?"

"Or a clone. Are you me from the future?"

"NO! Jesus, how much Sci-fi do you watch? I'm uhhh, look, we've been banned from using the A word because we don't want to look like we're promoting any particular religion or sect, but let's just say there are certain powers in the universe with an interest in your-"

"So you're my Guardian Angel?" asked Quill. The other Quill glared.

"We're not using the A word, okay? Turns out heaven is surprisingly Politically Correct. Anyhoo, oh mortal, I have been sent because you were contemplating taking your own life, and I have been tasked with-"

"No I wasn't."

"Huh?"

"I wasn't going to jump." Said Quill. "I was just having a shitty day, allright? It doesn't make me suicidal."

"Really?" asked the angel.

"No!"

"Not even a little? It asked, pleadingly.

Quill glared. "No! not even a little!"

"Oh…. Well this is awkward. Look, Quill, we have to pay for our own manifestations, so I'm kinda out of pocket here. Um, so if it's okay, could you pretend to be suicidal so I can give you the works and put this down on my paperwork as a successful intervention? I'm behind on my quota and I really need to get my figures up."

"Do I have a choice?" asked Quill.

The angel glared for a moment. "No." it said eventually. It snapped it's fingers and a warm glow enveloped Quill. Quill sighed.

"Let me guess, It's a wonderful life?" He asked sarcastically.

"Hey buddy, if you can think of a better way to do this, I'm all ears."

Awesome Christmas Mix: buffalo gals (traditional)

"Fine, but any weird stuff Clarence, and I'm out of here!" muttered Quill

"My name is XxxXLXLXLXLXLxlxlxkxkxkxjxjkxj!"

"Gazuntite. And where were you when the vowels were handed our, asleep in class? Where the hell are we?" asked Quill.

"I have granted you're wish. We are in a universe where you never formed the guardians. Rocket, Groot Gamora, Drax and you never met up. You are all living separate lives. This is Rocket and Groot's." He said, as a room slowly came into view.

It was an institutional type of room, like a school gym or a community centre. There was a ring of uncomfortable chairs pulled up. In them were some real tough looking customers of half a dozen species, all in the same uniform. Rocket was sat at the 12 o clock position relative to Quill, Groot behind him. And he was crying.

"See?" said Clarence. "He's in some sort of… I don't know, rehab group. Uniforms: could be prison. See? Without you, Rocket's drunk, miserable jail-bird."

"As opposed to what? A drunk miserable felon at liberty living on my couch?" muttered Quill, but he was a little shocked. Rocket looked bad.

"I… I never knew my family…" Rocket snorted, between sobs.

"See, see?" said Clarence, pointing.

"…until I met you guys!" he said, sobbing "I'm, I'm sorry, it's just, I'm so happy!" he said, as he sobbed. "I can't even hold it in!"

"There there!" said the doctor running the session. "I think I can speak for all of us, Mr Rocket, when I say that without you, this wouldn't have been possible. Why, without the generous donation from your billions, we'd have never been able to build this re-hab center. And your dedication in coming along to every session even after you got your one year chip is an inspiration to all of us!"

"What." Said Quill and Clarence, together.

"Mr Rocket Sir." said a butler, walking in through the door. "Miss Lylla asks me to remind you that the orphanage dedication ceremony is this afternoon.

"What!" said Quill.

"Oh right. Can't keep the wife and kids waiting." He said, hopping down from the chair.

"He has a wife and kids?" asked Quill, horrified. "How is that even possible?"

"Yeah, I didn't know it was possible either, but ain't they just the cutest little batch of rac-otters ever?" Rocket said, walking away.

"Not sure if adorable or freaky". said Clarence. "Yeah okay so maybe he's good, but without you there to save Xandar from Ronan…" started the Angel.

"I am Groot."

"Yeah Groot, It is a good thing that we saved Xandar, did something socially responsible with that infinity stone and got paid! Can you imagine the fuck-up if we'd let someone else plan out what to do with it? I bet they wouldn't even manage twelve-percent of a plan!" said Rocket, gesturing to Groot.

Quill turned to Clarence. Clarence looked at his shoes. "Maybe, maybe really deep down he's miserable."

"Yea-ha! I'm so glad that deep-down I'm frickin' happy!"

"You're really bad at this, aren't you?" asked Quill. "I mean, was it too much effort to check what this parallel universe was like before you showed me?"

"That costs extra. So Rocket is good. Maybe Drax is miserable…" said Clarence, snapping his fingers. "Let's go check."

Quill looked around: they were on a blasted wasteland, clearly the scene of some terrible, terrible battle.

"See, looks pretty bad, don't it?" said Clarence, smugly. "No way this is a good future. Parallel present. Whatever"

There was a roar from behind them and they turned.

Drax hit the floor as Thanos threw him down, and then strode over, looming above him. "Foolish mortal." He boomed. "Do you think that you alone could defeat me?" he said, raising a fist to crush his skull.

"See?" said Clarence. "Without you Drax gets killed by Thanos! Pretty good reason to have formed the Guardian's, eh?"

Drax smiled, grimly. "But I am not alone, titan."

Thanos had just enough time to look confused, before the sword punched through his back from behind. Thanos turned, and saw Gamora, standing behind him.

"You?" he asked, shocked. She nodded.

"Me." She said, as Drax stood up behind him, and punched right through his chest.

"At last, vengeance!" he roared. "My wife and child are avenged!"

Clarence put his hand up against the side of his face and looked away, trying to avoid Quill's glare while Drax and Gamora high-fived over the body.

"Excellent!" roared Drax. "Vengeances is ours! Can you imagine how side-tracked we would have got on our quest for justice if we had teamed up with others?"

Gamora nodded. "And think of all the lives we must have saved by killing him early: can you imagine the damage Thanos could have caused had he lived to collect all the infinity stones and build that Gauntlet?"

"Wait, gauntlet? You put the stones in a gauntlet?" asked Quill. "huh, I somehow thought just owning them all gave you the power."

"Yeah, but they're too big to swallow and too small to leave lying around: you need to fix them to your body somehow, and I doubt the idea of an infinity suppository would catch on any time soon." Said Clarence. "So their life is better, but without the team maybe your life sucks…"

He snapped his fingers. Yondu stood before them, a drink in hand as Quill stood before him.

"Well Boy's I never thought I'd retire as head of the Ravengers, but with such a good pair of hands to take the reins, and with all the fabulous wealth and vast fame that Quill has brought us over the past year, I for one would feel proud to call him captain-"

Clarence hurriedly snapped his fingers, and the scene disappeared and they were back on the bridge over the black hole.

"Okay so you forming the team was a pretty awful idea; that doesn't mean your entire life is a waste."

"Fuck off."

"I'm just saying, maybe if you were never born, it would be even worse."

"Oh nonononono… don't you dare snap those-"

Snap.

Quill swore, and then looked around. "Where are we?"

"No idea." Clarence confessed, they were in an office somewhere "But it looks vaguely familiar. Ah, Xandar city"

Drax walked in, wearing a shirt, and sat down at a drafting table, and begun to draw architectural drawings.

"See? Drax has given up his quest for vengeance! He must be sad and dispirited, his spirit crushed."

Quill considered this. "I dunno… that looks like a really nice shirt. Is that Drax's name on the company logo?"

"Spirit crushed, I'm telling you." said Clarence

The com on the desk pinged.

"Mr Drax, Ronan called: he wants to know If you've finished the design for that statue commemorating ambassador Yondu's abandonment of his life of crime and his successful negotiation of lasting peace between the Kree and Nova empires?"

"No, not yet. I am just here to fix some small things, then I am going home to my wife and child. It is life day after all." He said, looking out over Xandar city, his office having a beautiful view of all the buildings he had designed. Peace had been good to Xandar city, and he smiled the smile of the truly content.

Clarence face-palmed, and then snapped his fingers. Quill looked shocked. "Wait, I was the one thing keeping Yondu as a criminal? and Yondu not being a criminal stopped Ronan early and ended the war? Drax is a rich and successful architect and his wife and kid are still alive!"

"But Gamora's life could still suck!"

Snap.

Thanos leaned towards Gamora, Nebula leaning on the back of her chair and toying with a blade, and Gamora visibly baulked.

"See, Thanos about to kill Gamora!" said Clarence. Quill nodded, it looked like it.

"I'm not sure I can watch his…" he muttered, as Thanos leered, and reached down into an ominous looking sack, and pulled something out!

"Defiantly a torture device!" said Clarence. "A cosh or a club or a knife or…"

"Merry Yule!" boomed Thanos, pulling out a present. "And you too, Nebula!"

"Thanks dad!" said Nebula, grabbing the present and running off. "Come on Gamora! Let's go and play in the ball pool full of puppies!"

"One sec." Gamora called. "Merry Yule dad." She said, pulling out her present and handing it to Thanos. "Dad? Can I ask? What made you give up on your plan to enslave all the worlds an instead dedicate your life to good?"

Thanos shrugged. "The infinity stones all vanished, lost to time. Without them there was no point in trying. Plus with Yondu no longer in the pirate business but in politics, he lobbied Nova, Kree and Asgard for the resources to allow me to create my own pocket dimension to play with, so there's no need. Also he legalised weed so I calmed down somewhat."

Quill turned to Clarence.

"You're. an. Idiot."

"Rocket's life could still suck!"

Snap!

They were in a filthy back-alley. There was a series of low clunking sounds coming from around the corner. The two Quill's went to investigate.

There was a wiggling racoon tail sticking out of a dumpster, as Groot held the lid open.

"See? he's so desperate he's dumpster-diving for food!" said Clarence.

"Yeah, well, he is a racoon. That probably counts as sport for him. I mean, it's kinda sad, but given how better everyone else's life is…"

"Oh come on, on life-day? On yule? At Christmas? That's just tragic."

Rocket watched the small racoonish arse wiggle hopelessly. As the snow fell and the temperature dropped. "Yeah, I guess it kinda is…"

"Found it!" yelled Rocket, pulling a glowing yellow stone out of the dumpster.

"Groot, ya' got to be more careful where you leave these things! We've got people convinced that they were lost to time…" he said, snapping the stone onto the gauntlet on his arm with the other five. "I can't believe you frickin' dropped this one in the trash!"

"Oh COME ON!" yelled Clarence. "That's just taking the piss!"

Rocket glanced over, and shrugged. "Yeah, but what can you do?"

"Wait, you can see us?" asked Clarence."

Rocket snorted. "I've got the infinity gauntlet, I can do whatever the fuck I want!"

"Oh god, this is an awful universe!" said Clarence. "He should not have that thing!"

"Now to use it for good or for evil… heh stupid Question…"

"I am Groot!"

"Fine, ya bleeding heart, I'll toss ya for it…" muttered Rocket, pulling out a coin and throwing it high. Rocket, Groot Quill and Clarence craned to look.

"I am Groot!"

"Okay. Good it is. Don't rub it in, ya chump." Said Rocket, muttering. "Meh, could still be fun." He said, his eyes glowing, and then he and Groot shot up into the sky, shooting rainbows out of their arses.

Clarence swallowed, nervously. "Maybe, deep deep down.."

Rocket zoomed past. "Wahahahaha! This is awesome! I'm so glad we did this! I have literally no regrets! Hey, I'm gonna stop cancer being a thing just because I can! Weeeeeeeee!"

"Yeah well that's actually pretty good I guess." Muttered Clarence.

"Pretty good? Dude,that deserves more than a pretty good. You do know what happened to my Mom?" said Quill, glaring.

"Not in this universe!" said Rocket, flying past trailing rains of candy. "Your Mom's still alive!"

Quill froze. "What?"

"Yeah well think about it: you were conceived by, what did she say, an angel, made of pure light? Dude, that's some freaky inter-species stuff right there, I don't even wanna think about the dose of radiation you'd get from that, let alone carrying to term…" said Rocket, barrel-rolling at head height and turning dirt to chocolate sprinkles as he passed.

"What!?" yelled Quill, turning on Clarence. "Dude, did I kill my Mom?"

"Errrrrr…"

"Dude!

Clarence snapped his finger. They were back on the bridge overlooking the black hole. "I'm sorry dude, I had no idea…" said Clarence, backing off and raising both hands, palms up. Quill slumped down on the railings, crying. After a moment Clarence stepped over and patted him on the shoulder.

"I…I had no idea…I'm sorry Quill."

Quill looked up, red eyed. Glaring.

Carefully, he put one foot on the first rung of the railings, and stepped up.

Clarence panicked. "No, dude, think about it!"

"Oh come on! What good is my living doing?"

"But.. but.. but…" said Clarence, waving both hands, "No!" he said, moving in close.

Quill stood up, and stepped up onto the top railing he balanced there a moment on the void, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and planning what he would do next.

"I guess this is it…" he said, vaguely.

Quill tensed his muscles, stretched out both arms like a diver, took a deep breath… and then turned and grabbed Clarence by the neck and started punching him in the head, hard. After a moment or two of squealing, he fired his rocket-boosters, and used the momentum to judo-flip Clarence over the edge, holding him by one arm, as he kept beating him with his remaining hand. Quill grabbed at his Santa hat.

"Really? It's a wonderful life? Conveniently on Christmas eve, right after Deniarian Dey warned me I had been marked by an assassin who tricks people into suicide?" he yelled, ripping of his Santa hat and fumbling in it until he found the device.

"You know last year we tired this on some old dude, an NES hack. Scripted dreaming. It' didn't work too well for us either buddy!" he yelled, beating the man over the head with the NES unit. It was the guy from behind him in the shopping queue.

"Was anything I went through after the shop real? Did those kids really rob me? Did I really shout at Groot?"

The man groaned, and shook his head.

"Yeah, didn't think so." He said. Punching him in the head. Again. "That, that was for bringing my mom into it!"

"Quill!"

Quill looked to one side. the Guardians were running from the Milano to him.

"Quill, what are you doing?" yelled Gamora! "Why are you attacking that person?"

Quill waved the device. "Assassin, Ker industries. NES hack, tried to get me to jump."

"Oh. NES hack." she paused. "Well, I guess that explains it."

Quill frowned "Explains what?"

Gamora shrugged. "You were wandering around with this guy shouting and waving your arms at nothing for half an hour."

Quill glared, dumbstruck. "And you just sat and watched?"

She shrugged, "Yeah, but we just figured it was Rocket's eggnog. Drax went blind for a moment."

"Pussy." Muttered Rocket, still drinking.

Gamora glared, and then turned back to Quill. "Come on it: it's Christmas and the food is ready."

Quill glared at Clarence. "You are so lucky it's Christmas." He muttered, hauling the guy up. "I'm not going to kill anyone on Christmas ev-"

The man's sleeve ripped, and he fell into the black hole.

Quill stared guiltily at the half a coat he was left holding for a moment, and the rest of the team ran over to look.

"Is is he dead?" asked Quill.

"No: the black hole will compress time, when he hits the event horizon, he will have no time to die in." said Drax, staring. "Look he's hit it!"

They watched for some time.

"So… he's trapped in deathless agony for ever?" asked Quill, looking a little green. Gamora, greener that usual nodded. "And there's nothing we can do about it." They turned to go, and there was a loud bang. They rushed back to the bridge.

"Wait, he exploded!" said Rocket. "How is that even possible!? That's not how physics works!"

Quill shrugged. "Who cares, it's Christmas… and I got his wallet." He said, dropping the half of a coat and then rooting around for the wallet for a credit slip.

"Who wants expensive shit?" he asked.

Awesome Christmas Mix: So Here it is Merry Christmas. Slade.

And with that, the guardians of the galaxy found the true spirit of the holidays…Rum.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

BunnyRock.