Marvel owns the X-men and the Guardians of the Galaxy, no profit is to be made from this work.
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It was far too quiet now that the fighting was over, altogether too many opponents had stolen from him in the furious melee to leave him feeling denied. Settling down at the bar that cautiously set about resuming business, Drax found a bottle of spirits set before him.
"It's on the house." The proprietor announced upon catching Drax's eye.
"No it's not."
"I mean ya don't gotta pay, damn literalist." The man muttered, setting to task sweeping the broken glass and mess that had been made of his bar.
Enjoying a swig and relishing the burn, Drax watched as Gamora finished her last foe with a finesse he had come to appreciate. Smirking as his eyes caught hers, she almost looked embarrassed to be caught enjoying herself. Giving the fallen a kick as if to exorcise her annoyance at having been caught, Gamora stalked up to the bar and snatched the bottle from him.
"We should find Peter, who knows what he's gotten up to. Then the rodent." Gamora remarked, surveying the aftermath of her reputation.
"I also find myself growing bored." Drax admitted as he took back the bottle for a hearty draught that nearly finished it.
Glaring at Drax as if that hadn't been what she had meant, Gamora snatched the it back to finish the job in one long swallow. Rolling his neck and thinking it was time to set to task finding their compatriots, a sudden shock set the bottles and glassware rattling from the safety of their blast door clad shelves. Again the bar shook and dispelled any doubt that something was amiss.
Not alone in his curiosity, a Xandarian beat Drax to the door only to regret it as a group of beings dove for cover from the causeway beyond. Deafening noise and blinding light stole away the world, shyly returning as a ringing in his ears and watery eyes.
"If that's Rocket..." Gamora growled, looking furious as she waited for Drax to recover.
The air stunk of ozone and smoke as they raced out into the chaos that had erupted in the wake of the explosion. For the fleeing mass that sought cover, just as many rallied for battle. Gunfire peppered the air, silenced with another blast that shook the decking of the old ship.
Spotting one he did not expect to see, Groot roared a challenge as Rocket returned fire. Laughing again and feeling his boredom cured, Drax charged ahead with Gamora hot on his heels. Diving for cover as high velocity tungsten chased after him, he found the last of his friends huddled with a girl.
"We heard an explosion." Drax announced, eagerly looking for a new foe to fight.
"Rocket's new friend here." Peter replied with a nod to the girl.
"What happened to your face?" Gamora asked upon seeing Peter.
"Also because of Rocket's new friend."
"I said I was sorry."
Her dress was curious to him, yet her eyes seemed no stranger to bloodshed and that was something Drax felt conflicted about. Revenge had been his reason to live for so long that it seemed natural to live in a world filled with violence, but her delicate features reminded him too much of his own daughter and the awful fate that had befallen her. Kneeling before her, he offered her a smile as she gaped at him.
"Dude is ripped!" The child gasped.
"You are mistaken, this blood is not mine." Drax swore in hopes to reassure her that he was fine.
"She did that?" Gamora interrupted.
"I didn't mean to." The child sullenly mumbled.
"You said Paf, Rocket told me what that means!" Peter shot back with an accusing finger pointed at her.
"I just meant to flash bang your face, not fry it. You just got me way pissed dude."
Listening to the child and Peter argue and bicker with another, for as much as he had been told that the girl was a friend of Rocket, Drax found himself with a very different assumption as to explain her sudden appearance.
"Her speech is strange and confusing. She is not your illegitimate offspring, is she?"
"No!" Wearily rubbing his eyes, Peter looked back to the girl who glared at him in return.
"We need to get out of here before this breaks out into an all out turf war." Gamora's expression was one that would brook no argument.
"Funny how it looks like you're not the only one with that idea, amazing how explosions tend to do that!"
"Well excuse me if I got an allergy to getting shot! Rocket thought it was cool."
"He would." Gamora found herself to be echoed by Peter, though Drax fixedly looked at the girl to appraise her.
"Do you have any more of the incendiary you used that so impressed Rocket?" Drax asked, his eyes alight with the thrill of a good fight.
"No!" Peter snapped as at the first hint of temptation in the child's eyes.
"I'm running low on ammo up here!" Rocket roared from beyond the cover that shielded them.
"Ah dammit! Fine, here's the plan."
"You have a plan?" Gamora asked.
"Are we really going through this again, seriously? Right now?! Drax, you babysit our little fire starter here. We're heading back to the Milano and I'll take point. Gamora, turn anyone who gets past me into a pretzel."
"What's a pretzel?" Gamora asked in the pause that Peter likely had left for that very question.
"It's a bit of dough all twisted up into a shape like this," The child began, drawing in the air to help her explanation, "Then you throw some salt on it and bake it and it's like the next best thing to some street meat."
"It sounds painful, are you sure you would rather not have Gamora guard the girl while I do the twisting?" Drax offered.
"No! No changing roles! Not at least until I've taught you Rock, Paper, Scissors! Ready? On three! One, two..."
"I am Groot?"
"Fine! You can bend them into pretzels if you want, but don't shish kebab anyone!"
"What's a shish kebab?"
"Oh forget this, three!"
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"They're shooting Groot!" Crying out in horror, Jubilee struggled against the strong arms that held her.
Running through the crazy amount of Star Trek aliens that were making a beeline for anywhere but the deck they were on, Jubilee let her powers loose, fuelled by her twisted and tattered grasp on reality. It was too big and too real and just too much for her to handle, clinging to one truth to keep her sane, that she had to save Scott and Jean. All she wanted was her Wolvie to come in and kick ass and make everything normal, except he was more than a world away and she didn't know just how many.
They weren't partners anymore, waking up to a cowboy hat and an empty bed had changed that. But, for all his excuses for leaving her, one thing hadn't changed. They were each others lifeline, freely giving what each other needed to get by and meet out the next day and the day after that. Pulling down on Logan's old cowboy hat and remembering how to stand on her own two feet, Jubilee looked beyond to the aliens that were lighting up her newest best bud.
"Groot, duck!" Jubilee screamed at the top of her lungs, hating that she was crying with how pissed she was.
He didn't duck, not at first, the hammering of her heart killing her for every beat he stood there protecting them. Roaring out of anger or pain, Jubilee didn't know, but Groot finally fell back and gave her the shot she needed. Letting the brim of that old cowboy hat fall down in her best impression of a gunslinger, she let them have both barrels.
One night in a dirty motel that had a guy at a counter that read her and Logan all wrong, a couple questions had been asked after far too long together. Knowing the truth in her gut, he had told her that despite it all, that it hurt every time he popped his claws. It made it easier to admit that it was just as loud and bright for her as everyone else, that she hadn't been wearing her shades all the time just because she was some fashion conscious teen.
By the time she could see again, she didn't know where she was and that wasn't exactly a bad thing. There wasn't anyone shooting at her, or Groot, or any of Rocket's friends. Truth be told it was the big guy holding her, and just like Logan, he apparently had a bit of a soft side hidden under all the scarey he projected.
"We safe?" Jubilee asked, looking about her new surroundings.
"Only as much as can be expected given our circumstance. You did well to dissuade those who had been intent on hijacking the Milano."
"Everything's shiny?"
Finding a laugh and a giggle in his confused expression, Jubilee let it shake and sooth her as she relished the comfort of his arms. She didn't fight his awkward hug, because a hug was the very thing she needed.
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"Lemme guess, she followed you home?"
Staring at Quill from his reflection in the cockpit window, Rocket wished he could just throw that into Google to see what came out, but he had better things to do just then...like piloting the Milano out of system.
"I'm gonna take that as you asking me if I went to Earth? Quick answer, yes. As for what species in their right mind names their planet Dirt, lets just say I'm starting to understand why no one's bothered to annex or conquer your rock...present company excluded Gamora."
"What's she doing here!?" Peter snapped angrily.
"I owed the kid. So since she needs to get in touch with Yondu so she can get in touch with Corsair, I figured you were the right Humie for the job."
Blessed quiet reigned the cockpit of the Milano, but like any cease fire, it was only so the enemy could reload.
"What?!"
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