DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters from Guardians of the Galaxy, either in its movie or comic incarnation. I own any OC I can invent, though. I am not making a £ out of this. It is just for shits and giggles.
Warnings: mild violence, blood, angst.
I know the OP of the kinkmeme suggested Gamora as the one who realizes what is going on, but it made more sense for it to be Drax, instead.
Enjoy!
"Who the hell was that?" Rocket asks, when the comm is interrupted.
Peter shrugs his shoulders. "I have absolutely no idea." he replies.
"Not a real customer, anyway." the sentient raccoon comments dejectedly.
"That voice. - Drax chimes in - It reminds me of someone, but I am not sure of whom."
Peter shrugs again. He feels like he is on the verge of remembering the voice of the prank-caller, if that was actually a prank-call, but the name escapes him. It must be the booze.
"Alright, guys and girl. - he announces, massaging his tired eyes with the heels of his hands - Time to get some z's. I think we've had enough for tonight." he proposes.
Drax and Rocket obviously protest, they always do. Unsurprisingly, Little Groot helps.
"I am Groot!" he protests, and Peter knows he means something like "But we were having so much fun!". Plants shouldn't be able to make puppy eyes, but Groot somehow manages to look even cuter when he pleads.
"Stop it, you're behaving like children. - Gamora intervenes - We have places to be tomorrow, and I'm not flying with a band of people nursing their hangovers." she declares. Thankfully she has no problems with putting her foot down when the situation requires it.
Rocket and Drax know it is not worth trying to resist. "I am Groot..." the sapling protests, crossing his branches and frowning.
"No, it's not very fun at all..." Rocket agrees.
They are getting to the ship when the raccoon decides to get his revenge.
"You know what, Groot?- he says, loud enough for all the group to hear even if he is carrying Groot's vase in his arms - I think that weirdo called because he is a Star-Lord fanboy."
"I am Groot?" the sapling asks.
"It means that he has the hots for our brave leader. That he would like to make fruits with him!" Rocket explains.
"Making fruits" being the delicate and still obvious plant-person equivalent of having sex. Peter feels his cheeks colouring and turns to reply, but Groot beats him to it.
"I am Groot!" the sapling says innocently. "Of course he wants. Peter is beautiful." he means. Peter can't help but laugh.
Rocket looks at him in dismay.
"I am Groot." he adds, smiling wide and hugging Rocket as close as possible. "You all are, especially you."
"I am Groot!" he adds enthusiastically. "When I am in my springtime, I will make fruits with you all!"
"I am Groot." he concludes shyly. "So you will stay with me always."
"Of course we will, little one." Gamora chimes in, stepping back to brush the sapling with her fingers.
"I am Groot!" the sapling exclaims, bouncing with joy. The group cannot help but laugh with him, captured by his happiness.
When they stop laughing and turn to resume walking, a tall, imposing figure is blocking their way to the ship.
It is a man, broad-shouldered and lean. The stranger stands confidently, hands curled into loose fists at his sides. He is dressed like a punk, with boots, extremely tight and colorful trousers, a hoodie and a leather jacket. No weapons are visible, but that doesn't mean he is not carrying any. The hood hides his face almost completely. Peter can't guess the man's identity, not even his species.
The only thing he can tell about the man is that he has an extremely nice ass.
"Hey, buddy! What's the matter?" Peter asks, slightly wary.
It would not be the first time he gets ambushed in a parking lot, but he tends to try and avoid fighting against the kind of individual who is willing to go toe to toe with the four of them, if he can.
"Guardians of the Galaxy... I have been looking for you." the man says.
His voice is deep, smooth and cultured. A nice voice for a probable psycho, Peter thinks, and realizes he has already had a similar thought before, minus the probable.
"Oh, really? - he asks - And who the hell are you, apart from someone with a weird fashion sense?" he jabs.
He sees the man draw himself up in outrage for a moment, then relax back with an audible sigh.
"You know me already." the man says, then, with slow and deliberate moves, lowers his hood, revealing a fine-featured, blue face and a bald blue head. Intense blue eyes focus on him expectantly.
For a moment, Peter draws a blank, then...
"Oh crap..." he thinks. He knows where he has heard that voice, where he has seen that face.
It is impossible, or at least highly improbable, because last he saw him three months before, the Xandarians were going to stick him in the deepest prison on the planet, but everything tells Peter that the man standing in front of him is none other than Ronan the Accuser.
His face is gaunter, a bit worn, and the warpaint is missing. It makes him look more approachable, more vulnerable, but Peter has no doubts that he is still as lethal as ever, even without his armour and hammer.
His hands unconsciously drop towards the blasters holstered at his waist. Ronan notices and smirks smugly, pleased by the effect he still has on him. Damned blue psycho!
Peter notices that Rocket has lowered Little Groot to the floor and picked up his gun. A few paces away, Gamora and Drax have also taken up arms and seem ready to fight.
Peter has doubts about calling the attack, though. He is not sure that they can do much against Ronan, they haven't managed to do much at all against him in their previous encounters, except being thrown around all over the place like rag dolls.
Their last fight on Xandar doesn't count. Ronan should have been killed by the blast of the Infinity Stone by then.
The fact that he had not died then was a testament to how fucking un-killable that guy was.
Luckily for them, Ronan doesn't seem in a killing mood at the moment, but it is hard to tell. It is not like Peter has any frame of reference on the man's moods or habits.
Maybe he just wants to go in a rant before wiping the floor with them. Ronan seems about to start talking, when Drax launches himself at him.
It worked last time, but now that the Kree doesn't have one foot already in the grave, things can turn sour quite quickly.
Ronan tenses up to fight, but then hesitates, seemingly frozen in place, an expression of inner conflict on his face.
Drax's punch connects with his jaw at full power, tipping his head backwards. Ronan loses his footing and crashes to the ground.
Drax loses no time and started kicking him hard. The first kick connects with the Kree's midriff hard enough to make him cry out in agony, and then Ronan just curls up on the ground in a protective posture, taking the beating without even trying to defend himself or retaliate. It is odd, very odd.
Even weak and almost dead after being blasted with the Infinity Stone, the blue bastard had still tried to give it as good as he got it, and now he isn't even making an effort against a guy he knows he can take.
And then, if he is after them to get even for what happened on Xandar, why is he letting Drax wipe the floor with him?
Peter wishes the explanation was that Ronan has become the Kree equivalent of Joe Normal, but a gut instinct tells him that it is going to be much more complicated than that.
"Drax! Stop!" he calls out, but the man barely hears him.
"Why are you always stopping me when I am beating this man?" Drax asks, giving the unresisting Kree another kick.
"He is not even defending himself!" Peter points out.
"I find this arrangement perfectly satisfying." Drax replies, kicking out again.
Peter growls in frustration. He means to say something more, but Gamora beats him to it. She tackles Drax to the ground and sits on his chest to prevent him from standing again.
"Why did you do that?!" Drax exclaims. He sounds heartbroken.
Ronan is still on the ground. Peter hears him gasp in pain as he tries to push himself up.
He pulls out his guns and points them at the Kree's head. His aim is steady and he reckons that at such a short distance even if he can't kill him straight away, he will be able to do a lot of damage.
Ronan rises to his knees and raises his hands over his head in surrender. A black bruise is forming on his face.
"I am not here to harm you. - he says quietly - I am here to give myself up." he adds.
This time it is Peter's turn to be completely baffled by the other's behavior.
"What?! - he blurts out - What are you doing?!" he asks, and then feels like an idiot because that's exactly what the blue bastard said to him when he was doing his dance-off distraction.
The Kree smirks again. He clearly has caught on the joke.
"I can explain." he says calmly.
"Then do it, and do it quickly. - Peter orders - And if I don't like your explanation I will shoot you in the face. Maybe it won't kill you, but I'm sure it will hurt." he threatens.
Ronan nods. "It is fair." he acquiesces.
"Get started. - Peter orders - How did you escape from the Nova? How did you find us?"
"With relative ease." the Kree replies smugly. He shrugs, winces in pain, lowers a hand to his midriff and starts talking again.
"I convinced the Xandarians that I was no longer able to pose a threat, so they relaxed the security. - he explains calmly - I ran away from the hospital, stole a spaceship and came here to Knowhere. I found you like the last time, by tracking your phone." he adds and it feels like he is twisting the knife a bit.
"The phone call! It was you!" Rocket chimes in.
"Yes. It was me." Ronan confirms.
The bastard had the drop on them from the start!
"So you knew where we were. You could have killed us easily." Peter commented.
"Not easily, no. - the Kree replied perfectly serious and placid - I am still not completely restored. It would have taken quite a bit of effort to take you all down, especially Gamora."
"Thanks. I'll take it as a compliment." the green-skinned assassin says.
Ronan nodded. "It is." he confirms.
"Then why didn't you?!" Peter explodes, totally weirded out by the direction the conversation is taking.
"Because I am not seeking revenge from you." Ronan replies as if it is obvious to everyone but a confused Star-Lord.
"I am seeking atonement." Ronan says, astonishingly.
"What?!" this time the exclamation of surprise is shared between him, Drax and Rocket.
Ronan sighs and lowers his head.
"What I did on Xandar and before, in the service of Thanos... It was wrong. - he says, looking to the ground in obvious shame - It was unjust and unforgivable." he adds and Peter has a hard time trying to reconcile those words, which sound sincere and heartfelt, with the self-righteous Accuser he thought he knew.
"I don't know how I ended up doing such things, they were never part of the plan. - he continues, his voice lost and almost breaking - I only wanted to force the Xandarians to admit their war crimes against us and renegotiate the treaty. I never intended to destroy Xandar itself."
"Well, you did a good impression of someone who would have loved nothing better. You convinced everyone." Peter provokes.
Ronan raises his head again and meets Peter's eyes with his own.
"I know. - he admits - I don't know how I got there, but when you stopped me, I really wanted to do it. I..." he stops, lowers his gaze and shakes his head.
"I am not trying to exculpate myself. - he continues in a moment - I take full responsibility of my actions. I have behaved unjustly and mercilessly. I have slaughtered innocents. I have become like the people I wanted to bring to justice. I have dishonoured myself and my people." he declares.
Peter thinks that he has summed it up pretty nicely. It must have been a pretty painful realization for the Kree, though. Even though he doesn't like the man at all, he cannot help admiring him at least a bit for being brave enough to admit it.
"And when did you figure that out?" Peter asks sarcastically, trying to push those thoughts away.
"After you defeated me with the Infinity Stone. - Ronan replies, oblivious to the sarcasm - It was as if a cloud had lifted from my mind. Even as I tried to fight against you afterwards, I was starting see the reality of what I had done. I am glad that you stopped me. I wish someone had been able to stop me sooner." he adds wistfully.
"I've never been thanked by anyone for kicking their arses. That's properly weird, you know? Did your "villains anonymous" counselor suggest you to do that? " Peter comments, shaking his head. He gets no response.
"I'm starting to realize that you are the king of the weirdos, so I suppose it is par for the course. - he continues - Thanks and confession accepted. Now, is that it? Is that why you came here?"
Ronan shakes his head.
"It is not. - he declares, confirming Peter's worry that things are going to become even crazier - I am here to give myself up. I told you." he points out, irritated.
Peter is now almost completely baffled. Why can't the Kree make sense? He is starting to believe that he preferred him in full-blown killing mode.
"So, correct me if I am wrong. - he says cautiously - You have run away from the Xandarians just to let yourself be taken into our custody?"
The Kree raises his gaze again. "Yes." he says.
"That is nuts! - Rocket exclaims - This guy is nuts, Peter. Why don't we shoot him in the head and get done with it? I'm sure the Xandarians won't mind." he proposes.
Attractive, but no, Peter thinks. He can talk tough, but he wouldn't be able to kill someone in cold blood, especially not someone who has surrendered. Rocket doesn't have those qualms, though. Better be clear.
"Not yet, Rocket. - he orders, then turns back towards Ronan - You! Why did you do something so idiotic?" he almost shouts.
"Because you have taken me as your haaq, not the Xandarians. This is where I need to be." the Kree replies with quiet determination.
He is speaking in the Commercial Language, but there is a word Peter doesn't recognize. It must be Kree, a language which he doesn't know. His implants offer a translation, but Peter doubts it is the correct one. They suggest "spoils of war" or "war prize" as translations, neither of which makes sense in context.
"We didn't do any such thing!" Peter protests.
"You did, when you brought me low. - the Kree insists - You said the words yourself, Star-Lord. You said that I was your prisoner and your responsibility!" he accuses. His eyes bore into Peter's own, feverish and full of raw, barely contained emotion.
Really? Seriously? Did the crazy blue dude organize a prison break for a matter of prerogatives?
"I didn't mean it that way! - Peter protests - There was no need to make this whole mess. We didn't mind you staying with the Xandarians. No harm done, I mean..." he says, but he immediately realizes it is the wrong thing to say.
"I do. - the Kree declares - I... I cannot live with what I have done. I am dishonoured, meaningless. I am searching for a way to atone for my crimes, and being confined in a Xandarian prison is not... It is not going to work. They don't care if I atone or not, they just care that they were seen being humane to me. They have no use for me. Staying with them would make my survival meaningless." he says, and Peter thinks he can see tears forming in his eyes.
"And how being our prisoner would help you atone?" Gamora asks.
Ronan turns to reply, but surprisingly it is Drax that explains it for him.
"By forcing him to humiliate himself with serving his enemies. - the Destroyer says - My people has a similar custom. Battle captives and criminals become the property of their captors." he explains, disentangling himself from Gamora.
Peter nods to himself. Things are now starting to make sense.
"So you are asking us to take you as a slave, Accuser?" Drax asks advancing on the kneeling Kree.
"No, I am not asking. I am begging you. - he replies, and prostrates himself to the ground at Drax's feet - Please! Allow me to serve you! Allow me to atone!" he pleads. Peter can hear the desperation in his words. It makes him feel almost sorry for the bastard.
Drax grabs the front of Ronan's jacket and pulls him to his feet with by brute force with one hand. The other is occupied by one of his knives, which is pointed at Ronan's throat. The Kree doesn't struggle, doesn't shy away.
"Do you think that this will make me forgive you?" Drax growls. The knife nicks the Kree's skin. Black-blue blood wells out of the small wound. Ronan doesn't even seem to notice.
"No... - he says quietly - I don't ask for your forgiveness, Drax the Destroyer. I cannot even forgive myself for what I have done." His voice breaks.
"I can still hear their screams... - he says, and now he sounds like he is properly crying - They were not pitiful. They were agonizing to hear. They haunt me. I wish someone had killed me before I did something like that... I wish I had died in that fire..." he confesses, heartbroken.
Drax lets him go and steps back. Ronan folds to the ground again, as if his legs cannot support him, clasping his arms around his chest as if he is trying to hold himself together. His gaze is lost in the distance, and his cheeks are streaked by tears. He doesn't seem very formidable at all, just exhausted, and very much broken.
Peter looks at Drax. He looks like he is going to cry too, Groot is bawling in sympathy, and, as for Gamora, she looks like she has been at it for a while. Her shoulders are shaken by quiet little sobs, and she is pressing a hand against her lips to prevent them from trembling.
What is going on in there?
"Please... - Ronan pleads again - Accept my servitude... Or end my suffering, at least. I cannot go back to Xandar. I can't bear it..."
Kill or keep, Peter thinks. Why is life so difficult?
"Alright, blue sucker! - Rocket intervenes, pointing his huge gun at Ronan - Any last words?" he asks.
"Rocket, NO!" Peter, Drax and Gamora shout in a little chorus.
"What the hell, people?! - Rocket asks, frowning - Are you really thinking about keeping him?! You are as nuts as him! He's going to kill us all in our sleep!" he protests.
"No, he is not." Peter retorts. He thinks that he is starting to understand the twisted logic of it all.
"You cannot harm us, can you? Not even to defend yourself. That's why you let Drax kick you around like a football" he says to the Kree, holstering his blasters.
"Yes." Ronan replies, refusing to meet his eyes.
"And you have to obey any orders we give you." Peter continues.
Ronan acquiesces again.
"Anything you ask me, I will do." he confirms.
"Thought so. - Peter comments - Come on, bluebell. Stand up. We are going." he orders.
Ronan raises a hopeful gaze towards him. "Does that mean that you accept my pledge?" he asks, as if he didn't really believe that they would.
"That doesn't depend just on us. - Peter replies, feeling slightly bad when the hope disappears from those impossibly blue eyes - Listen, I can't make any promises. Just come with us, alright?" he adds, rubbing his eyes. The adrenaline is starting to fade and he feels horrendously tired.
The Kree acquiesces and tries to obey, but as soon as he manages to pull himself to his feet, he crumples back to the floor once more with a sharp cry and a grimace, obviously in pain. He presses a hand over his midriff, and when he takes it away his palm is coated in thick black-blue liquid.
Blood.
Ronan looks at it in surprise and curses softly under his breath.
"I didn't do it!" Drax exclaims.
Peter ignores him. He has just noticed that the front of Ronan's hoodie is wet with blood.
"Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!" Peter thinks.
He kneels next to the Kree and forcibly lifts his top. There is a large plaster stuck to his stomach, covering an old wound which probably had not finished healing yet. It is drenched with blood and a massive black bruise has spread around it. Peter has patched up enough people in his life to know that it looks an awful lot like an internal hemorrhage.
Meanwhile, Ronan must have realized how bad he is actually feeling and is almost collapsing to the ground.
His skin is pale and sweaty, and he looks a lot worried for someone who didn't care about dying. He must have been running on adrenaline and stubbornness until then.
"Rocket! - Peter exclaims, switching to battle mode again - Get that doctor friend of yours here! Real quick! Like, yesterday!" he orders.
"I'm on it!" Rocket exclaims, none too pleased by the state of things.
"We have to move." he tells Ronan, grabbing the the ex-genocidal maniac by an arm. The Kree nods and tries to push himself to his feet.
Peter helps him to stand on wobbly legs and starts to drag him to the Milano. Gamora grabs his other hand, and together they manage to get him into the ship and lay him down on the table of the common area.
By then, Ronan has almost passed out. His eyes close on their own and he is shivering helplessly.
"Hang in there, bluebell!" Peter tries to reassure him, because damn it, the crazy Kree has put himself under their protection, and somehow it doesn't seem right for him to die like that.
"Help is on the way. You'll be fine." Peter adds, instinctively squeezing his hand.
Ronan looks his way long and hard, as if trying to figure out how much of his worry for him is genuine, how much he can trust Peter.
The world is really fucked up, Peter thinks, and he knows he is making it worse by giving the blue bastard hope, but he has actually said the words, even if he had never meant them that way, and at least for the moment, he intends to live by them. There will be time to discuss the situation later, for now his top priority is keeping Ronan alive.