Chapter 7
AN: Hey everyone! First of all sorry for the long hiatus. Life as per usual gets in the way of my creativity and such. However I hope to finish this story by the end of the month. Thank you for all of the support and I hope I am meeting your expectations! What does everyone think of nice and gentle J'son?
Missouri, 1978
He saw her first.
Her soft, blonde, hair cascading down her white night gown.
Her brown eyes resting gently on him, calm and quiet like the Nebraska night outside.
He saw him second.
He held her wrist behind her back in one hand, and with the other had a large kitchen knife to her throat.
"J'son," Meredith whimpered as she held her head back to avoid the sharp edge of the knife on her neck. The sleeve of her night gown was torn and her shoulder was already starting to burse.
Despite the silent tears streamed down her face, there was fire in her eyes. The fire he had grown to love and admire. The fire that would burn her captor if she could only turn around.
Her captor was well over 6 foot, unshaven and sporting a the typical outfit of a red plaid shirt and a Mac trucker hat. J'son could smell the rye whiskey from where he stood.
His name was Buck Nelson. He heard of stories of him, from Meredith and people around town. Stories about how he put his mother in the hospital when he was only 15. Stories about how his last girlfriend, a small, blond like Meredith, 'walked-out' on him suddenly and has not been seen since. Stories about how he always desired Meredith, but was unable to tame something so wild, beautiful and pure.
"B..b..back up and get the fuck out of the house," Buck drunkenly stuttered through the sentence.
J'son took a single step back but had no intentions of following the violent intruder's orders. With the level of intoxication the man seemed to be, he would have little trouble disarming and subduing him, however his first priority is get Meredith out of harms way. To do that he needed to distract him.
"Why don't we all just calm down and we can find a peaceful sol..."
"BOY, ARE YOU DEAF? GET THE HELL O..." but Buck was not able to finish his threat. Meredith and not the alien warrior toke advantage of Buck distracted state. Simultaneously she threw her head back and hit his face, his nose giving the tell tale and satisfying crunch of a broken nose, pain blinding him making him unable to maintain his her arms out of his hold she pushed the knife away from her neck, and ducked out his arms, reaching out her own arm for J'son.
As soon as he saw Meredith move her head back, J'son launched forward ready to take down the assailant. He made a grab for her right arm as she reached out for him.
The next five seconds went by too fast for a Spartan, and yet too slow for a human.
In the first second, Meredith's right hand meet J'son's. His grip was steady and firm, the hands of warrior. Hers were steady but gentle the hands of not warrior but a defender.
In the second second, their eyes met, Meredith's rich and smooth brown eyes with J'son light blue. She saw him in that moment. Meredith have seen this man everyday for the past three months, but in the moment. This was first time she saw him for what he really was. Not the prince or the warrior that he claimed he was, but the man he had capacity to be. A man she had to capacity to love.
In the third second, Buck recovered from his blow the head. Blood on his face and rage in his eyes, he reached his free arm out for the woman he always desired. The other hand still holding the kitchen knife.
In the fourth second, Meredith felt her left hand become encompassed in a vice-like and unforgiving grip. Panic filled her systems and she tried to use whatever adrenaline she had left to yank her arm free, but resistance against the beast of a man was futile.
In the fifth second, the knife in the Buck's hand flew through the air and landed in the soft flesh of Meredith's stomach.
Knowwhere, 35 years later
The purple came first.
The purple glow around Peter darkened, everyone in Collector's home could feel the energy now, it was thick but oddly inactive. Fearing the power radiating off of the boy he had raised, Yondu released his grip on Peter and withdrew his knife from his throat.
The chaos came second.
The purple glow around Peter started to expand slowly, the energy now accompanied by a light pressure. Then almost like sea water before a giant wave the energy receded and grouped around Peter, swirling and orbiting him, gaining strength.
Time stopped as the purple swirl crested and the wave of energy was unleashed throwing everyone but Peter off of their feet.
The King of Spar tox was the first one back up, taking advantage of everyone's vulnerable state he retrieved his phaser rifle and quickly set it to stun. Taking aim, he hit Karaoglan who was running towards the side exit, square in the back.
That's one down.
Looking around for Peter, panic filled him when he didn't immediately see him. He heard him first. The sound of a fierce battle cry piercing the air. Turning around he saw Peter in the bar behind him, straddling Yondu and punching him repeatedly.
That's two down.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a whirl of gray and red as Drax sprang himself from the ground and launched himself on top of two Ravagers, slamming both of their heads into each other, hard. The Spartan warrior knew they weren't getting back up.
That's four down.
Turning back, J'son fired another shot a bearded Ravager, hitting him in the face. The stunned man dropped like a brick wall.
That's five down.
Gamora too leaped up from her crouched position, sword flying out as it slashed through the nearest Ravager. Blood spurting from his leg, he yelled in pained but was silenced as her fist stuck his face.
That's six down.
J'son looked for Tivan but he was no longer in the room. He would be damn if he would let the man who was going to buy his son get away. Taking aim he fired another shot at a Ravager running towards him.
That's seven down.
Rocket who was thrown over the desk, scurried back to his blaster gun and took down two Ravagers, trying to make there escape. A very happy expression on his face as his the bastards fell.
That's nine down.
The King fired one last shot with his rifle, taking out the last Ravager running towards the back exit.
That's ten down.
In the minute that it took for the Ravagers to fall to the Guardians and the king, Peter had not ceased pummelling Yondu's face. The King could hear grunts of effort and frustration from Peter and growls of pain from Yondu. Dropping his rifle, the King grabbed his magnum and moved towards his son ready to assist in the apprehension of the man.
"Peter stop," J'son commanded pointing the gun at Yondu, "he's not going anywhere. I'll make sure of that."
Peter did stop his beating, but did not move from pinning the Ravager King to the floor. Slowly he turned his head and looked his father in the eye, however it was not Peter, not entirely.
The Infinity Power still held him acting like a parasite inside of his body as it occupied his mind keeping him a hostage. But like the warrior Peter, and his mother before him was, he was fighting it.
One eye was the rich, warm brown that he had seen on Terran years before, the other was the dark swirling purple of destruction.
J'son freeze from advancing, unsure of what he should do now.
Seeing the opportunity, Yondu yanked his hand out of Peter's grip and landed a solid punch on his jaw. Using Peter's momentum he flung him off, sprang up and ran towards the entrance of the bar.
Enraged even more for causing further harm to his son, J'son pulled back the hammer, took aim at Yondu Udonta and fired.
The bullet exited his gun but hit the ground as Peter's hand shot out of no where and pushed the barrel down. It was the first time J'son missed.
Keeping his father from shooting the man who raised him, Peter positioned himself between him and the running man.
J'son lowered his weapon and holster's it. Revenge would need to wait.
They simply stared at each other. A mix of destain and unsure in Peter's eyes and a mix of disbelief and uncertainties in J'son's.
"Peter what I said before was tree," J'son explained, "I knew your mother years ago when I crashed landed on Terra."
His son remained silent and the power thankfully dormant, the purple haze in his left eye still shrouding it.
Breaking away from the awkward stare, J'son reached into his breast pocket, but froze as Gamora raised one of the Ravager's gun's at him.
"Stay where you are," she warned walking towards him to stand beside him and Peter. She believed he did not want to hurt Peter, but she did not know what he would do to her or Rocket and Drax.
"I'm not going to hurt you or your crew," J'son said truthfully looking the daughter of Thanos in the eyes.
"I'm not retrieving a weapon," he added as he retrieved from his breast pocket not the sedative, but the picture of Meredith and Peter. He slowly extended it to his son, who hesitated before accepting it.
Peter looked from J'son to the Polaroid, but froze as he recognized his mother, and him as a infant. She, although worn from the difficult labor, was young, vibrant, happy, and full of life. The very opposite of their last few months together. He turned over the photograph and saw handwriting, the same handwriting on his note back in the Milano.
"Star lord," Gamora read with a sad smile, "that's were you got it from."Taking a look at the photo, she didn't know what to think. It proved nothing but at the same time it didn't make sense for the King of Spartox to come here alone to retrieve a former bandit, if he wasn't his son. Logistics aside, she could see Peter in him, the bone structure, the jaw line and fiery reddish, blonde hair. Even in the little personality that she had seen of the King, she could see Peter. Gamora sensing no danger and lowered her weapon
"This proves nothing," Peter echoed Gamora's thought.
A loud groan and crashed came from the other side of the room, Peter, Gamora and the King spun around weapons raised. Drax has succumbed to his injuries and fell against the glass covered floor.
Rocket quickly scurried over and checked his pulse, "you ok buddy?"
"I'm fine," Drax mumbled, stubbornly holding on to consciousness.
"He's lost a lot of blood," Rocket stated to Gamora, "we need to get him back to the ship." Gamora moved away from Peter and the kings and over to Drax who was slowly trying to get back up. Taking his arm over her shoulder, Gamora helped him up and supported some of his weight.
"He is right Peter," Gamora agreed, "we need to get him back. Plus, Yondu is still out there."
Peter, still standing by his father simply nodded, polar iod still clutched in his hand.
"I have a fully functional medical capsula in my ship," J'son interjected, "it's not far from here."
"We can take care of our own, " Peter countered, disdain in his voice. He walked over to Gamora and Drax and took his other arm and placed it around his shoulders.
The king could tell he was walking on egg shells with his son. He couldn't risk arguing with him and therefore further driving him away, but let his son go without a fight at least.
"I don't that you can," J'son reassured, " but my medical capsule can have him patched up in a few minute."
"Oh yeah," Peter spat scarcasticly.
"Yeah,"
"Well why isn't my mother here then."
"Peter you need to underst-"
"Understand what? You LEFT."
Silence and tension filled the room as Peter, put down Drax's arm and moved back towards his father. J'son could feel the energy building up again, but thankfully one eye was still brown.
"Get Drax back to ship," Peter barked to Gamora as he stopped in front of J'son, "I'll be there soon."
Gamora and Rocket looked at each other uncertain whether they should leave him, but none-the-less they followed his orders and began the slow march out of the collection, into bar and out in the abandoned street.
The father and son once again stared at each other. Peter still holding the photo held it up.
"Why isn't she alive," Peter growled through clenched teeth, the energy surged. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter knew that the cancer his mother had was un avoided. But he didn't care.
"If your freaking medical shit was so advanced, why couldn't you have fixed her? You left her. I don't give shit, that you left me. But you left her. You left her to die."
With each word the energy was amplifying. From what J'son knew about Infinity Stones, they needed an anchor and stimulus. For Peter, his mother was the trigger. What has he done to his son?
"She did died because of me," J'son said tears threatening to spill. It was not a lie but it was not the truth either. One day but not now, he would tell him the entire story.
Peter was surprised by the admission but it didn't change anything. His fake sorry would not move him.
"Can I have it back," J'son asked quietly pointing to the photo.
Turning it towards him, Peter looked at his mother one last time before he held to him. The King reached forward to retrieve it, but instead grabbed Peter's wrist gently. He let out a sigh of relief,when Peter did not pull back.
"I can't make you listen me and I can't make you understand why I did what I had to do," J'son pleaded, tears spilling. "But I loved your mother so much, and I would have saved her if I could."
Despite the mentioning of his mother, the energy did not grow but rather decreased. The purple in Peter's eye lightening.
"Why did you leave," a calmer Peter asked.
The sound of loud clicking prevented J'son from answering. The father and son turned around to face Yondu Udonta.
Yondu Udonta holding the Hydron Enforcer.
Peter had thought it was destroyed when he held the stone, but he have known better then to think that Yondu will pass up such a weapon.
J'son quickly stepped in front of Peter, hand over his Magnum ready to draw when the time was right.
Yondu didn't say anything, but rather gave a wide smile, he locked in on the royal pair and pulled the trigger, firing the missile.
Time stopped as he saw the flaming projectile travel towards him, and his son. With reflexes horned over years of fighting he threw his arm back and gave Peter's shoulder a hard shove. He only hoped it would be enough to push him out of the way.
However as fate would have it, the Infinity Power was quicker. He felt Peter resist the push, and use the momentum to throw himself in front of his father.
"NO"
The force of the missile hitting Peter was monumental. The heat was astronomical.
By a miracle he was able to stay consciousness as the momentum threw him and Peter like rag dolls through the air. He heard the shattering sound of glass followed by the pain of sharp cuts on his face as they exited through the side window of the bar. Then he knew no more.
Finally after what felt like an entirety in free fall, J'son opened his eyes. He felt like he was laying on a grate, feeling the wind of his face he realized the blast threw them out on to the balcony. Agonizingly he pushed himself up, his jacket still smoking and smouldering with heat.
Frantically he looked down the balcony for where Peter should be right next to him but he was not there.
That is when he noticed the metal guard rail hanging from its hinges where it connected to the walk way. Throwing himself to the edge he feared the worst. But fate finally decided to shine on them.
Peter was hanging by his finger tips, from the bent railing. Underneath him was the dark abyss of space. Holding on by his right hand, Peter's left arm was charred beyond recognition, blood splattered his face as several pieces of glass stuck out of it. And that was only what J'son could see.
Scooting forward he grabbed the hand railing with his left hand, it seemed steady enough. He swung himself down and off the balcony now hanging only a few feet from his son.
Peter looked over at him with drowsy eyes. J'son could tell he was almost unconscious, he needed to act now. Streaking out his arm, J'son was just a few inches from grabbing Peter's jacket. It was just out of reach.
"Peter!" J'son pleaded desperately. "Take my hand."
Peter just continued to stare. He could feel his will to live slipping.
"Son, please." The purple haze in Peter's eye disappeared leaving it it's normal brown.
Giving the last push of strength he had, Peter swung his left arm and felt his father grasp it firmly and his right finger let go.
He then slipped into the peaceful void.
Relief like he never felt before washed over J'son as Peter's damaged arm entered his grasp. Likewise fear stabbed him as Peter's fingers let go of the railing and go limp.
The added weight jerked him down, but the King held tight to Peter and the railing. Fate decided to send them cloudy weather as the metal started to creak in protest.
Clutching him even tight he pulled his wrist up above his head, but with out Peter's assistance it would be impossible to get him on the ledge. Now face-to-face with him he could see more clearly the damage that was done. Taking a great risk, J'son wrapped his legs around Peter's waist, took a deep breath and let go of his wrist. Quickly grabbing Peter around the waist he hoisted in up over his shoulder and took hold of the railing.
Balancing him on his shoulder and clenching his muscles , the King did a slow pull up, climbing on to the balcony. Safely kneeing on the grate, he lowered his son down, gently moving him towards the wall.
Taking Peter's face in his hands, J'son wiped away some of the blood and dirt with his thumb. Touching his forehead to Peter, J'son took a deep breath in. His son was safe for now. He breathing was shallow but his heart beat was steady. Spartans were known for there durability, but Peter was half-human. Who knows what traits he would inherit.
Carefully he slid Peter's jacket off his wounded arm. He didn't have anything to wrap it in, so he simply laid it on Peter's chest, positioning it above his heart. He then zipped up his jacket to keep it in place. The rest of his injuries he would need to leave until he got back to the ship. He would be damned he let his son suffer any more.
Taking off his own long jacket, the king gently wrapped him in it. Moving to his side, he placed his right arm over his shoulder, slipped his one arm under his back and one under his knees. Gently he stood up, bring Peter with him. His head slipped back, lips open slightly showing a decent amount of blood in his mouth. J'son adjusted him slightly so that Peter's head was resting on his shoulder.
"Well boys how much do you think a King and Prince will be worth," he heard Yondu Udonta voice from behind him.