10-Come with me and escape

Their progression had considerably slowed down. They had to stop every time they climbed a step to fire at more attackers, Gamora shooting the ones coming from the top and Peter taking care of the ones below them. The things were incredibly fast and powerful considering their skeletal physique and, more worrisome, electrical shock stunned them but didn't kill them this time. Nothing seemed to, at least nothing coming from any sort of gun, and the two Guardians were working hard to keep the creatures far enough from them so they didn't have to find out if they were also knife resistant.

They had hit a rough patch reaching the fifth floor as the creatures were surrounding them and came close to grabbing them a few times, but they managed to pull through and they were now approaching the eighth floor where the mutants had succeeded in opening the door and now were rushing into the shaft.

"There's more of them," Gamora groaned, shooting at two creatures coming from above and dodging an unconscious body falling toward them, kicking it on its way down so it wouldn't hit Peter. She had noticed her friend had become more and more silent during their ascent and she couldn't help but worry. Silent Peter was never a good thing. "It looks like more victims survived the mutation on the higher levels. It makes me wonder… if the higher levels were for the wealthiest," She shot at a few mutants coming at them. "They probably also were healthier than the poor lads relegated to the basement."

She looked at Peter below her. He was shooting at the creatures and climbing awkwardly, using his forearm instead of his hand to hold on to the rungs.

"So they were more resistant to the process than the others," she resumed her thinking aloud, never stopping shooting at the beasts coming at them from the eighth floor. "Do you think the creatures we encountered earlier in the Milano were also the result of a mutation from whatever those little bugs did to another species?"

Quill answered with a grunt. Okay, something was definitively wrong with him.

"Peter, are you alright?"

Ah, damn. She had to ask. "Yeah. Just tired that's all." He lied. His left hand was completely numb from pain now, and he couldn't use it to shoot anymore. He had found a way to hold on to the rungs without using it either, but that wasn't the most effective way to climb a ladder and it was taxing on his already tired body.

They were right next to the door to the eighth level now, and the flow of creatures coming from it was beginning to lessen. They had to stop their ascent for a while to stun all of the mutants as fast as they went, but some of them managed to slip through the beams of energy and got way too close for comfort.

One of them jumped and latched on Peter's leg, hanging on as the former Ravager tried to kick it out as best as he could with his other free leg. Quill couldn't use his stun-gun as he knew the blast would spread and hit him too, so he worked harder on his kicking and finally found a spot tender enough on the former human's head to make it let go off him and the thing fell, not without bringing with it a piece of his pants. Flark. Now they were definitely ruined.

The sound of struggle above him made him raise his head. Gamora was currently fighting a creature clinging to her arm, making her unable to use her gun. The thing was sticking to the wall, slowly and strongly pulling the young warrior out of the ladder, its claws digging into her flesh and drawing blood. Forgetting his own pain, Peter sheathed his gun to climb the few rungs separating him from his friend in an instant, grabbed the sword hanging from her waist and swung it as far as he could from his awkward position, hitting the mutant in the flank. The thing wailed and released its prey, taking a few steps back. Quill gave Gamora her sword back and resumed shooting at the creatures surrounding them while she cut through the ones coming too close to them.

After a while, the creatures stopped coming from the door and the ones recovering from the stun-guns effects were far enough to allow the Guardians to take a much needed breath.

"That was close. How's your arm?" Peter asked.

"The cuts are deep but my nanites will take care of it. And you?" She could see how heavily he was leaning against the rungs.

"I'm okay." He said, fighting a wave of dizziness.

"You know I don't believe you."

"I know."

"Will you be able to climb the last two floors?"

He nodded. "Yeah, don't worry." He shot at the few mutants scaling the walls toward them even if they were five stories down, just to be safe, and resumed his own ascent.

A few exhausting moments later, they finally reached the tenth floor. Gamora hauled herself up by the door then helped Peter do the same and sat him against the wall while she closed the doors and barricaded them quickly.

She squat next to her friend, whose heavy breathing was becoming worrisome. "Show me your hand".

Peter grunted and stood up again, using the wall to support himself. "There will be plenty of time for that when we're safe inside the Milano. Come on."

Gamora huffed in frustration and followed him through the short metallic hallway giving access to the richest part of the ship. "At least tell me what's wrong with it."

"Dunno, didn't stop to look at it. Thought I burnt it against a wire but it doesn't feel like it anymore."

She was about to ask for more details when some noise made itself heard through their comms. Amid the static, Rocket's words were incomprehensible but his voice sounded frantic. As they exited the small hallway and went back into the richly decorated corridor by which they had come in, they realized large amounts of sand were slipping through the trap they had used to go inside.

"…. SINKING!… OUT… HERE NOW!" Rocket's voice boomed through their comms.

They briefly looked at each other and darted toward their way of escape. The sand was already forming dunes on the ground, complicating their access to the small emergency ladder. They floundered in the dunes and were thankful for their helmets when the thin sand started to copiously shower them. Gamora grabbed the lowest rung above her and hauled herself easily through the hatch, and then Peter followed her with less grace and ease. She helped him drag himself on the smooth top of the ship and stood to look for the Milano while he rested at her feet, fighting another wave of dizziness.

The giant sun had completely set now but the sky was still a vaguely bright hint of reddish gray. Above them, the front beams of the Milano were almost blinding up in the air.

"Rocket, why is the ship flying without us inside?" Peter asked, slightly out of breath.

"Use your jet-boots to join us, right now!" Rocket roared urgently into the comms.

"Okay, but… why?" The former Ravager stood up and was about to argue with his friend when the ground started shaking under his feet and giant tentacles appeared suddenly all around the shipwreck, towering above them and standing still for a few seconds before diving in their direction.

"That's why!" Rocket answered.

Quill and Gamora crouched toward each other, each trying to protect the other instinctively. Most of the tentacles fell down all around them and tightened their grip on the hull, slowly engulfing the shipwreck into the sand and making it difficult for the two friends to stand on the moving slippery ground.

Peter adjusted his stance and gently took Gamora in his arms, readying them for departure. "Okay," he said for everyone to hear, "using the jet-boots when gravity's involved is tricky at best, and we're two so I'm pretty sure I don't have enough power to reach the Milano. Groot, do you think you can stretch out long enough to catch us mid-air?"

Inside the cargo hold of the Milano, Groot answered yes and started growing vines to fasten himself to the frame of the overhead door.

"I don't have time to teach you to how use them properly, but the trick for a steady trajectory with the jets is to stay still, and my legs and feet have to be as rigid and glued to each other as possible."

"Why are you telling me this?"

He activated his jet-boots to maximum thrust and they flew straight toward the Milano in a breathtaking jump. "Because I'm going to pass out."

"What?!"

They already were almost halfway through their ascent when she felt his hold on her loosening, his voice only a small breath whispering sorry and he went completely slack in her arms. Their course immediately deviated and as they started spiraling, Gamora's instincts kicked in. She deftly changed her hold on him, adjusting her position to catch his legs between hers and keep them as tight and straight as possible. The spiraling stopped but it was too late to correct their trajectory and she called for help, hoping Rocket could shift the Milano slightly enough so they wouldn't end up into one of the reactors.

Above and in front of her, she could see Groot's extended hand reaching to grab hers. They could make it, they had to. They just had to get a few inches farther, she could almost feel his fingertips grazing hers... And that's when the thrusters stopped working. She let out a surprised, anguished cry when they started to fall down again, then felt a wooden hand closing on her wrist. Her arm protested against the sudden stop and having to support hers and Peter's weight.

She looked up to see that Groot had jumped out of the ship to grab them, and was only propped up by numerous vines. He didn't seem to want to make a move to pull them up.

"Can you get us back to the ship?" Gamora asked, dreading the answer.

"I am Groot." The Flora Colossus replied to her, shaking his head.

"Alright… Well, thank you for saving us. Rocket, would you mind landing the ship soon? I don't think I can hold on much longer."

"As soon as we're out of that flarking sandy area. Hang on."

The flight lasted a few minutes during which Groot had secured his hold on his friends, growing vines surrounding and supporting them. Rocket spotted a piece of flat and solid ground and began their descent to what he hoped was a safe place, as slowly and gently as he could.

Once they were close enough to the ground, Gamora asked Groot to release them from his shell of wood and let go of his hand, falling back first to shield Peter from the landing. In spite of the low speed and short distance, the shock was violent and she rolled on herself, carried away by the kinetic force and lost grip on her friend despite her best efforts.

She stayed laying flat on the ground a moment before getting up slowly, wincing and shaking her head to get rid of the ringing in her ears, then staggered toward Peter's limp form sprawled a few feet away from her. She knelt by his side, carefully turning him on his back, mindful of his neck and back, and deactivated his mask. His face was ashen and covered with a thin layer of sweat, his wrinkles deepened in pained expression.

She gently tapped on his cheek, trying to rouse him. He groaned in answer, eyelids fluttering open.

"What happened?" he mumbled, clearly confused.

She released a sigh of relief and smiled at him, her hand leaving his cheek to rest above his heart. "You decided to take a nap in the middle of our escape and we couldn't get inside the Milano."

"Oh. Sorry about that." He tried to get up and failed miserably. "Ugh. Bad idea."

Gamora frowned at how paler the simple act to try and sit up had made him.

"What's wrong with him?"

Rocket's voice behind her made her turn around. He was standing beside her, surrounded by Groot and Drax, all of them wearing their spacesuits, armed to the teeth, and looking very concerned.

"I don't know..."

"I'm okay."

Gamora sighed and carefully stripped Peter off of his knapsack to hand it to Rocket. "There, here's what you'll need to repair the ship"

The raccoon took the bag eagerly. "You found a power converter?"

"We found better than that, buddy, so much better." Quill added weakly, the ghost of a smile adorning his wan lips. "You'll love that."

Rocket's whiskers quivered with doubt. "You sure you're okay?"

Peter dismissed him with a weary hand. "Yeah, yeah. Go and work your magic so we can leave this hellhole fast."

The raccoon nodded and left quickly, while Gamora turned down the communications. "You are not okay," she admonished him.

The former Ravager closed his eyes tiredly. "No, I'm not. But we need him a hundred percent at his task."

Gamora agreed wordlessly. "Can you walk back to the ship?"

Peter measured the distance separating him from the Milano. It was less than a minute walk, but to him it seemed like hundred miles away. He pondered his options and chose to forget his pride as he had lost it a long time ago anyway. "No."

He didn't even have the time to ask and felt himself being delicately picked up by strong yet soft wooden arms. It was strangely comfortable and he contentedly closed his eyes, letting himself being lulled out by his friend's rolling gait.