Chain Keeps Us Together

Chapter 2: Moonage Daydream


...

The guardian's body had paused in mid air, hanging like one of those creepy puppets his mother used to keep in a china closet. Despite himself, Quill gasped and flailed. He couldn't help the rising panic twisting in his gut. Every ounce of his wits were taking their sweet time catching up to the rest of him and the effort it was taking to keep himself from freaking out was making him sick.

"This can't be good." Quill wheezed and swallowed against the bile creeping up in his throat.

He was so nauseous. GOD was he nauseous. He blinked and then squeezed his eyes shut. Colors danced behind his eyelids like little flashing caution lights, Sparks of blue and green laughing as he desperately tried to keep himself from throwing up. He felt like a little kid who'd just stepped off one of those stupid things on a playground- What were they called? A spinny-round? A round-about? Did that really matter right now, Peter?

He snorted at his own pathetic train of thought and coughed. His chest hurt. The dull ache of it was throbbing painfully against the slight pressure holding his bruised body in place.

'Gotta focus, gotta think. Come on, Star-Lord.'

First things first: he needed to get down. Hanging around like a piece of meat wouldn't do him any favors. UUUGH but if he wanted to see what he was floating above, and how he was floating above it in the first place, he was going to have to open his eyes again.

Jeezz. What a choice: Open his eyes and face his dizzy-spell or be eaten alive? Well, as long as they go for his head first...

"Strange! "

"Yaa!" Quill let out a surprised yelp and opened his eyes, nausea taking a quick backseat to make room for fear.

Someone was here...

Someone was HERE. Shit!

The voice was not particularly intimidating, but it was still sudden. The half-human's heart beat against his ribs, fogging his head and sending a ringing sound straight to his ears. He quickly shook his head and counted to ten.

'Breathe in... Breathe out...'

The shout sounded like it had come from every corner, like an echo bouncing off the walls of an empty room. His trembling hands reached up to wipe at his irritated eyes, red leather fabric scratching not-so-gently against his eyelashes. The doom tunnel of swirly death had been so windy and dry that his eyes were having a freaking meltdown! He blinked and blinked, green orbs finally capturing a glimpse of the destruction under his suspended limbs.

It was totaled... whatever it was. It kind of looked like a staircase or maybe used to look like a staircase. Wherever he'd fallen, the Hulk had obviously landed first (if the giant hole was any indication.) It was foolish of him to take comfort in that but, oddly enough, he did. To be on his own and facing a hoard of enemies had been one of his greatest fears lately. Having had a taste of what it was like to have true friends standing beside you, Peter Quill swore to never go back to the life of a solo outlaw again. There was nothing like family, and that's what the guardians were to him ...a family

'A family that had probably been wiped out by Thanos.'

No. NO. That thought had to be put on hold. It wouldn't do him any good to worry about that now. He needed to get a grip and break free of this hold! He needed to search for the Hulk and drop kick this disembodied voice into the dirt! His green friend couldn't have just gotten up and walked away after a fall like that, right? He was literally STARING at the hulk-shaped indent in the wood. Hulk was here, but Where?

His eyes scanned the debris for clues just as a second voice joined the blaring echo of his maybe murderers.

"Stay back!" A deep voice commanded. Quill's brow furrowed at the panicked tone. They sounded nervous, but why? Was the Hulk nearby?

"Strange, What's happened?"

"Dark magic."

"Whaa-?" His mouth fell open. Strange happenings? Magic? Lord, he was being held captive by weirdos!

Quill tossed his head from side to side, up and down trying to locate the two chatting men. All he could see was rubble and darkly painted walls. He did manage to catch a glimpse of something though. A moving limb under a few broken boards just inside the Hulk-made hole.

"He is a master of dark magic?" One of the men huffed like he was judging a fashion show.

"No... I don't know- Let me think." There was a pause and a crunch of boots on splintered wood. "The signature is off. The vortex was open for at least twenty seconds. It released the Hulk and then this guy about fifteen seconds later."

"He does not look like a threat."

"He survived a plunge from space. I wouldn't call that normal."

Quill squealed when the gravity-defying hold on his body suddenly snapped and he hit the ground, flapping his arms around as he did so like a spider cut from its web. His bones screamed as they were tested against the already splintered wood and marble. His cheek made contact with a particularly sharp piece of debris, cutting a slice into the soft skin there.

"Bad guys. These are bad guys" Quill whispered over his new bed of broken shit. If he thought he was in pain before, it was nothing compared to how he felt right now. Bleeding, coughing, shaking... he must look like an abused dog waiting to be put down. Desperately, he tried to call out for his friend "Hulk!"

If the green giant was nearby, surely he'd come to his rescue?

Both pair of boots crunched closer. As Quill was still lying face down, he heard them stop briefly near his head and then continue passed. He wetly exhaled in relief and peeled his bleeding face off the wood, trying in vain to push himself up out of the dirt.

No good. His body was failing him. Done. Cooked. Put a fork in him and serve him for dinner 'cause it's over. The spinning was starting to kick back in again too- 'Breathe, Breathe, You're okay- FgmmUGH! NO. not okay, not okay-

Bile and whatever he'd had left in his stomach from lunch spewed out onto the wood under his hands. His eyes filled with water, body shaking through the gags and heaves. This sucked. This suck SO much. He needed to get a hold of himself and get off the ground.

'Come on, Star-Lord- Come on, Peter.' His mind repeated that to himself again and again. He breathed in and out- The voices of the two men were loud, filling the entire space.

The guardian let himself fall onto his side, eyes half-lidded, trying to make out the blur of movement.

Both men were in his line of vision. One was kneeling with his back turned, leaning down over something on the ground that Quill couldn't see. The other slightly stockier man was standing facing Quill, eyes looking down at what the other man was studying. Their clothes were odd, not the weirdest he'd ever seen by a long shot, but pretty damn weird. The collar on the thinner guy's cape definitely had to go. Even a half-dead sack of flesh wouldn't describe that thing as anything other than ridiculous.

"Dr. Banner, try to stay calm. Tell me what happened to you?"

"Th-Thanos! He's- Thanos is coming!" A small voice cried out. The caped man ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair.

"He's in shock. No use trying to get a straight answer out of him now."

"No! Thanos! Tony!"

Quill didn't get it. The Hulk was nowhere to be found, but he had been so sure... Had he seen him? He couldn't remember! He couldn't think. He just wanted to sleep. The thought occurred to Peter that if these two weirdos were to stab him to death and eat him right now, he probably wouldn't care. At least death meant sleep. Just five minutes, that's all he needed, ten minutes... maybe fifteen.

"Ahem." The stocky man facing him had a nervous look on his face, eyes meeting Quill's feverish stare with stern worry. "Strange, behind you. The other is awake."

The other. Pfsh! Like he was some one-night stand caught sucking on a Sovereign dick.

The caped man quickly lifted his head and turned at his companion's suggestion. Hazel eyes met Quill's forest green

"Fantastic." The amount of sarcasm dripping from that one word alone was admirable. "Friend or foe? Looks like we'll have to wait until Banner regains consciousness."

He stood and maneuvered himself until he was kneeling in front of Quill's mess of a body. "Odd. Look at his clothes..."

'Look at YOUR clothes' He wanted to say, but didn't have the energy. He was letting himself fade into sweet unconsciousness. Just a quick recharge and then he'd punch these guys in the face. No problem.

"Take precautions with that one, Strange; At least until we can confirm his loyalties."

The last thing Quill's mind registered was the feeling of gentle fingers pressing against his neck.

"My thoughts exactly."