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.
Thanks to (I love that song too) and importchic for their reviews and to all the people who faved/followed this fic. You guys are amazing!
Raptowen, I'm seriously thinking about implementing your suggestion in a later chapter.
Warnings: this chapter contains angst, politics, some implied gore and abuse, and some language.
Enjoy, and please don't shout at me!
They emerge into the plaza in front of the Temple like a grim, solemn procession, their faces stained with soot and ash, exhausted, limping and staggering, supporting each other as much as they can.
Their formal, festive clothes are all torn and singed, and blood of a dozen different colours stains the flagstones, dripping from their wounds.
Drax is carrying Ronan in his arms, cradling him gently against his broad, tattooed chest. Dark blue blood is crusted all over the Kree's face, a bit like the warpaint he used to wear when he served Thanos, but there is a half-smile on his lips.
He was smiling as he lost consciousness, cradled in Gamora's arms. He was happy that they were all alive and that they had stuck one up Thanos' jumper.
He is barely breathing now, his pulse sluggish and his skin even cooler than usual. Peter is trying to stay in control, but he is terribly worried, just a step away from going into full-blown hysterics, and from the look on Gamora's face, she is not far from it either.
To all intents and purposes, they have won this battle, but he doesn't feel like rejoicing, not if the price of victory is Ronan's life.
At the moment, the most he can do is concentrate enough to put one foot in front of the other.
A cordon of Spartoi guardsmen is trying to keep the crowd away from the immediate vicinity of the Temple, while ambulances and firefighting-trucks are parked all over the unoccupied space. A bunch of paramedics in bright uniforms are tending to the shocked guests.
Emperor J'son barks something in Spartoi. A bigger group of paramedics rushes in, bristling with medikits and other equipment. They seem to be the only calm people in all Lakedaimon.
When they pry Ronan out of Drax's arms and wheel him away on a gurney, Peter tries to go with them.
Emperor J'son catches him and holds him away from them.
"You have to let them work, son." he says. Peter dumbly shakes his head. He can't face leaving Ronan alone, not after what he's been through. He'll need support. He'll need him and Gamora.
J'son wraps him in a bear hug, physically preventing him from following the paramedics.
"He'll be alright, Peter. He'll be fine. - he reassures - Let them work. You can stay with him at the hospital later. Now you need some treatment too." he adds.
Paramedics appear in his field of vision from parts unknown and push him to sit down on the flagstones.
Peter only realises he has a wide but thankfully shallow burn on his left leg when the paramedics start cleaning it up. He couldn't even feel pain before. It's uncanny what a mild shock can do for you.
Another paramedic is treating Gamora a mere step away. Peter holds out a hand towards her. She grabs it, silently grateful for his support.
Lady Sif, the Asgardian shieldmaiden that was with them during the defense of the Temple, has managed to elude the paramedics and rejoin the Asgardian delegation. Peter doesn't understand a word of what they are saying, but they seem very upset about something, he notes with detachment.
"Loki Laufeyson!" Sif exclaims, charging back towards the wounded.
Loki is sitting against one of the ambulances, long legs stretched in front of him. He is still wearing his blue face, and it is pale with exhaustion and pain. A first-aider is checking the dark blue bruising on his ribs, and Peter can see that the skin of his torso is littered with silvery-blue scars, in a pattern very similar to Ronan's burns.
Nebula is hovering close to him, snarling against another first-aider who is trying to treat her, and when Sif approaches with a threatening demeanour, she intercepts her, blocking her path.
Sif casts her a withering glance, but ultimately decides to ignore her.
"Loki Laufeyson! You scoundrel!" she repeats, switching to Trader's with the clear intention of making a scene.
Loki sighs and rubs his face wearily. "Laufeyson... what an inaccurate patronimic! - he comments with evident sarcasm - Laufey of Jothunnheim was hardly a father to me." he adds bitterly.
"And yet you flaunt your heritage!" she confronts him.
"Have a look around, Sif. Blue faces are less uncommon than pink ones around here. I am just blending in. - he retorts - Plus, my Lady Nebula likes me better like this, and who am I to say no to my bethroted?" he adds with a smug grin.
Sif remains silent and his grin widens even more, giving him a boyish air.
"So, now that you have made your speciesism patent, is there anything you require of me?" Loki drawls calmly.
"Don't pretend you don't know! - Sif retorts, getting more and more irritated by the moment - Where is the All-Father? What did you do to him?"
"He is in no danger, I assure you." Loki declares placidly.
"Where is he? - Sif insists, trying to take a threatening step towards him, but Nebula doesn't step away - He was right next to me in the Temple, and now he is nowhere to be found. Did you leave him in there to die?" she accuses.
Loki gives her a long, unblinking stare, then pushes the paramedic away and comes to stand in front of her.
"I did not, if only for the fact that he was never here to begin with." he declares.
His youthful blue face turns pale pink once again as it was in the beginning, then his features thicken, his hair grows coarse and grey, a matching grey beard grows out on his jaw and a golden eyepatch appears on his right eye. His clothes change to match his new appearance, and even his voice sounds different when he speaks.
"It was me all the time." Loki says with a creepy calm smile when the transformation is complete.
Sif takes a step back, her eyes wide in surprise and horror.
"The All-Father has not graced his own halls with his presence since the Svartalfar invasion. - Loki reveals, his voice dripping with contempt - And you haven't even noticed for a moment, even though you're supposed to be his sworn shield..." he adds, twisting the knife.
"What...? What did you do to him, you..." Sif exclaims, nearly incoherent with fury.
"There is no need to resort to insults, my dear Sif. - Loki says, returning to his normal appearance with a grimace - I have only done to him what he did to me before. I stuck him in a hole and left him there to mould. He'll be fine, once I get him out of there..." he minimises.
"You will pay for this!" Sif threatens. She nods towards the rest of the Asgardians, and a few warriors step out of the ranks, marching towards Nebula and Loki with belligerent intent.
The two look at each other with resignation, but grimly hold their position, in defiance of a superior force. Peter imagines that Loki intends to use the Space Gem once more to get the hell out of there, but he looks so exhausted that he doubts he's going to be able to pull it off.
Wearily, cursing because of his flambé leg, Peter pushes himself to his feet and goes to stand in front of Nebula, trying to shield the two from the Asgardians. Rocket and Drax appear next to him, then Gamora limps determinedly at his side.
"Get out of the way!" Sif hisses.
"Not gonna happen. Sorry about that. - Peter manages to say - He is kind of my brother-in-law, and he kind of saved everyone's arse in there..." he adds, apologetically, but not really.
"Yeah, in case you didn't notice, we'd all have been toast in there without these two!" Rocket argues, jerking his head towards Loki and Nebula.
Peter turns for a moment, enough to see their confused expressions. They didn't seem to expect any support from anyone. It makes Peter sad to think about it.
"This hardly makes a difference. - Sif objects - He is a recidivist, selfish criminal, and it is within my prerogatives as Shieldmaiden to the All-Father to arrest and punish him." she adds, and Peter knows that she is not wrong. Dammit!
"Selfish? Seriously, Shieldmaiden?" Loki barks over the heads of Peter and Nebula.
"I have done what was necessary to ensure Asgard's safety! - he declares - Even after we had been invaded by alien spaceships, even after my mother had been killed..."
"She was not your mother, spawn of Jothunnheim!" Sif spits.
Loki flinches visibly, and when he speaks again he is seething with anger.
"Even after Queen Frigga had been killed inside his very halls, the All-Father refused to see that to mantain Asgard's isolation was folly. - he continues - He couldn't see beyond the walls of his golden city. I could. I have seen the Universe in its glory and despair. I know what is out there, and I know that alone Asgard cannot withstand the coming storm."
"I don't believe a word of what you are saying. There is no storm, if not one of your own making. You have sucked us in this conflict." Sif objects.
"Really?! - Rocket intervenes - And all the shit that went down in the Temple?! Did you get knocked too hard on the head?!" he asks contemptuously. He seems to have taken a liking to Loki.
"The rat is right. Thanos is out to kill the Universe. - Nebula barks in support - All the Universe, including your lily-white Asgardian arses. Whether you want it or not, this war has always been your war too." she reveals.
"Well, of course you know about Thanos' plans. - Sif retorts, hardly missing a beat - You work for him." she accuses.
"Do you really believe that if I still worked for him I'd have wasted time saving you? - Nebula objects - There must be some truth in it when they say you think with with your shield..." she provokes.
"You shameless blue tart!" Sif exclaims, trying to get close and personal with her.
Gamora shoves her back unceremoniously.
"Take your hands off my sister!" she warns.
"Warriors of Asgard! Seize the traitor and his accomplice!" Sif orders, and her cohorts happily obey.
Many of them have not been involved in the battle inside the Temple, they are rested and full of vigour, but they are the Guardians, and even battered, charred and exhausted, they will put up a fight, or would have, as it turns out.
"Stop! Put down your weapons! NOW!" Emperor J'son yells at the top of his lungs. That gives everyone enough pause for a small patrol of Spartoi soldiers to interpose between Asgardians and Guardians.
"You will cease all hostilities immediately. - the Emperor declares in a tone that leaves no space for refusals - I will tolerate no violence towards any of my guests."
"Are you really willing to protect this... this criminal, Your Majesty?" Sif insists, even though she puts away her sword.
"I still need to verify that he is indeed a criminal. - J'son retorts calmly - I cannot overlook the fact that he has saved many people in the Temple, and at any rate, I wouldn't extradite anyone without a formal hearing. There are laws to be respected in this Empire." he concludes
"You will regret this when his dastardly plan comes to fruition, Your Majesty." Sif warns him, her voice tense with rage.
"Dastardly plan?!" Loki exclaims, shaking his head in disbelief.
"What in the Nine Realms are you talking about?! - he asks belligerently - You hypocrites hailed the All-Father's decision to tie up alliances with Spartax and the Nova Empire as supreme wisdom, as a new era in Asgardian politics. And now it is a dastardly plan?"
"I know how you are. - Sif retorts with a sneer - You wouldn't do anything without a personal benefit."
Peter can feel the Space Gem's power flare with Loki's anger.
"You don't know anything about me! Nothing at all! - he hisses - The existence of the Universe is at stake! Do you really think I would be so foolish to gamble with it?" he yells.
"ENOUGH!" Emperor J'son orders, his voice like thunder.
All contenders freeze.
"This is not the moment for your squabbles and recriminations! - he declares - We have our wounded to tend to, our dead to bury. Peace and order need to be restored on the streets." he adds, and Peter knows his father is right, but Loki is not wrong in defending himself either.
"Everything else will have to wait, but I promise you, my guests, we will get to the bottom of the matter. - the Emperor adds - What happened here today is of the utmost gravity.
We were all attacked, and through us, the nations that we represent. This wasn't just an attack against my daughter and her husband. It was a strike against the stability and peace of the whole Universe." he adds.
"Admitting that this is true, what does the Spartoi Empire plan to do about it?" Nova Prime intervenes out of the blue, leaving Rhomann Dey's side and calmly walking towards J'son.
"Alone, we can do nothing, but today has proven that if we stand together, we can fight back. - he says with conviction - For this reason, I call a Council of all rulers here convened, to discuss today's events and the intelligence my son and his allies have gathered about them, and to devise a common plan of action." he announces solemnly.
Murmurings spread like wildfire among the foreign delegations, and Peter catches more than one upset or scared face in the crowd.
Sif's eyes glint ferociously and it is not outside the realm of imagination that she will say something scathing about the legitimacy of the council, and question Loki's presence. Feelings are mixed, at best, about this announcement and her intervention might well precipitate the situation and jeopardise the Council even before it is started.
"I accept your invitation, J'son of Spartax." Nova Prime declares before the shieldmaiden can even draw breath to spew her poison. She sets a hand on J'son's arm with an affectionate expression, and his father's blue eyes crinkle slightly at the corners in an almost imperceptible smile.
"I accept too." High Priestess Derdriyu announces. She glides closer, led by a youngish Accuser and holds out a hand in Nova Prime's general direction.
"Today for the first time in centuries, Xandarian and Kree warriors have fought together, side by side, to defend Ma'at. - she adds - Let us stand together again, and preserve the peace that we have acquired at such a high price." she offers.
Nova Prime considers her hand with perplexity and hesitates for a moment.
It seems to Peter as if the whole of Lakedaimon is holding their breath, then Nova Prime clasps Derdriyu's hand in her own.
"Your words are wise, sister. - she says, while the crowd looks in astonished silence - Let's put our differences aside and focus on our common enemies in this moment of need." she declares.
Derdriyu smiles like a cat that got the cream and tightens her hold on the Xandarian's hand. She might be blind and behave a bit ditzy with all her mystic affectations, but Peter has the impression that she is as sharp as her Xandarian counterpart, and she is quietly reminding Nova Prime that she is still Kree, strong enough to inadvertently break a few bones in her hand if she holds her a bit too tight.
"May this be the first step of an honest, open reconciliation process between our peoples, so that we can confront our tragic past and pave the way for a brighter future." Derdriyu adds, innocently enough, but Nova Prime's calculated smile freezes on her face as she understands the subtext. The helpful, airy-headed priestess has managed to stick her in a very uncomfortable situation, and she can't really back away now.
Nova Prime stalls for a moment, then nods gravely.
"The Goddess willing, it will be so." she is forced to agree, much to her chagrin.
"Did she really say so?!" Ronan asks, sounding quite shocked, but in a good way.
"Word by word. - Peter confirms - Derdriyu wants the Xandarians to admit their responsabilities and apologise, and Nova Prime doesn't seem entirely averse to throwing at least a few of the perps in jail and throw away the key. Spartax and Shi'ar are quietly pressuring her as well."
Ronan sighs. "We should have left the whole affair in Derdriyu's hands from the start. - he jokes - She would have had the Xandarians sue for peace in a week at most."
"She is a sharp lady. We are lucky that she is on your side." Peter comments.
"Yes, we are. - Ronan agrees, nuzzling into his neck - And then what happened?" he asks.
"And then, well, Majestrix Lilandra and her husband agreed to the Council too, and then Kl'rt, of course." Peter narrates.
"Is he still furious for having been called pathetic?" Ronan asks.
"Always. - Peter confirms - The thing snowballed, as you can imagine. All representatives agreed, eventually, even the Asgardians. They didn't want to be left isolated."
"And Loki?" Ronan asks.
"Still a free man, at least for now, and formally representing Jothunnheim. He even unfroze the All-Father. - Peter reveals - He was here often to check on you. Him and Nebula." he adds
"Everyman tortured him too, didn't he?" Ronan says quietly.
Peter nods but doesn't dare to say a word.
Some of the representatives spent almost an entire Council session questioning Loki from all possible angles, digging, probing, accusing. He had tried to deflect their questions, he would rather have been considered a turncoat than admit what Thanos had done to him to break him into service, but in the end he had caved in and confessed.
He had showed them the scars, littered on his chest, back and arms, told them how Everyman had broken him, piece by piece, by torture, starvation, and rape, until he was no more than putty for Thanos' Mind Gem to mould into a weapon pointed at Terra and Asgard.
His bright red eyes had been shining with tears of shame and humiliation when he had finished, and Nebula had stood at his side, haranguing the Council, shaming them for trying to shame her boyfriend, for trying to make him feel less for what he had been through.
"I am so glad that Yondu kept you... Really, bloody glad..." Ronan whispers, tangling his fingers in Peter's hair and kissing him deeply.
"It's alright. - Gamora intervenes, petting them both in turn to reassure them, even though she is nearly crying herself - You will heal. Loki will heal. We will help. He is one of our own now. We are family." she says.
"What a messy clan we are..." Ronan comments affectionately.
As if on cue, the door opens with a relatively loud bang.
"Speaking of what..." Gamora comments with a hint of laughter.
"I am Groot..." Groot apologises sheepisly, then his eyes go huge in surprise, and a wide smile appears on his face.
"I am Groot!" he exclaims and flows towards the bed, trying to hug the three of them at once with his extended branches.
"Hey! Welcome back to the land of the living, buddy!" Rocket exclaims from the door.
"I told you he'd be fine." he tells Drax, elbowing him discreetly.
"I seem to recall that you were quite worried." Drax objects with a slight frown. Rocket gives him a dirty look and shakes his head and Peter cannot repress a small laugh.
"Well, sue me. - Rocket retorts - You looked like a goonta beast had chewed you and spit you out, buddy. No offense meant." he adds awkwardly.
"None taken. You looked like you had been barbecued and then chased by hounds. - Ronan replies genially - I appreciate your concern, comrades. I really do." he adds with a smile.
Drax smiles, turning slightly brown, and Rocket grins and turns back towards the corridor.
"Hey! Loki, Nebula, hammerheads! He is awake!" he calls out.
A bunch of blue-skinned people clogs the entrance, peering in with elated expressions, a bit like a bunch of (tall, freakishly strong) schoolkids.
"Welcome back, commander!" one of the youngest calls out. An older comrade cuffs him over the head for his formal faux pas, but the youngster doesn't stop smiling.
"Morthwyl?! - Ronan calls back, turning towards the sound of their voices - Lads?! What are you doing here?!" he asks.
"Surveillance detail for you, the two Daughters and Laufeyson. We just relieved the Shi'ar Pretorians." one of the more senior Accusers replies.
Loki rolls his eyes at the patronimic, but does not comment.
"It is a necessary precaution, in case those people come back to finish the job." the Accuser explains.
"Or any of you decides to flee to parts unknown." one of his comrades adds pointedly.
"It looks like an easy task, for now, doesn't it? Give me a few days, and I'll make you sweat for it." Ronan comments with a hint of laughter. The Accusers seem to find it equally funny, at least the majority of them. Maybe it is some sort of in-joke between comrades, but whatever the reason, Peter thinks it is nice to see some smiles on all those serious faces.
"Damn propriety! - one of them exclaims - It is good to have you back, sir!".
"It is good to be back." Ronan admits with a bright, wide smile. It makes him look so utterly kissable...
Peter tries to keep cool and pretend he hasn't seen it. He does try, he doesn't want to upset the Accusers with another public display of intimacy...
"Ah, what the hell!" he ultimately thinks to himself. He presses his lips over Ronan's smiling mouth and after a moment of hesitation, the Kree does his best to snog the breath out of him, while the people around start wolf-whistling and cheering.
"What the hell is going on here?" someone shouts. The sea of blue parts, letting a thin, bespectacled doctor in the room. Everything quiets immediately.
"You, Out! And you too!" he orders, pointing first at the people standing in the doorway and then at Rocket and Drax. In the confusion, Groot has managed to jump into a vase with an ornamental plant, and is now pretending to be inanimate. Peter tries not to look his way. The doctor wouldn't appreciate his attempt at deception.
Rocket tries to protest, but the doctor quells him with a withering look.
"This is my ward, in case you have forgotten. - the doctor points out - So I don't care if you are the Heroes of the Universe or whoever..."
"Guardians of the Galaxy..." Rocket mutters under his breath.
"Visitor hours are long past, and, at any rate, I would never allow so many people in here at once. - the doctor continues, paying him no heed - There is a waiting room, if you are on security detail, but you won't be allowed in until tomorrow morning and in groups of three at most." he announces.
There is a scatter of murmurings, but eventually everyone leaves, and the doctor turns towards the bed, arms akimbo and a sour expression on his face.
"Just what do you think you are doing, you three?" he asks with a mixture of irritation and resignation.
Peter gives him a forced smile and thinks furiously, hoping against hope that he will find an explanation for what they are doing that goes beyond their need for reassurance and comfort. He doubts that the doctor will be understanding about it.
Ronan's hand is subconsciously tightening on his jacket. Peter doesn't want to leave him alone. He doesn't want to leave him full stop.
He turns to Gamora, who nods with a determined glint in her eyes. Thank the gods for her cool-headedness, Peter thinks.
"We are testing an experimental treatment for PTSD. - she replies as if she knows what she is talking about - Physical closeness releases oxytocin, which decreases the symptoms of PTSD without collateral effects. It has been recently published in the Spartoi Journal of Neuropsychology." she declares assuredly. Either she has gotten a lot better at bluffing, or she knows exactly what she is talking about. Either way, she is awesome.
The doctor hesitates for a moment. His gaze slides to Ronan, possibly taking in the death-grip in which he is holding Peter's jacket and Gamora's top, then to Gamora's determined face. When the doctor looks at him, Peter does his best to look like he knows what it is all about.
"Let's put it this way, doctor. - he offers - We basically haven't slept since the attack at the Temple, and Ronan..." he starts, but hesitates, unwilling to say too much and shame him in front of a stranger.
"Well, I have flashbacks and night terrors even when I don't get tortured by nichilistic serial rapists... - Ronan admits nonchalantly - You can either let us try to stay like this for the night, or be prepared to deal with one or more of us going into a crisis. Your choice, sir." he says calmly.
"Your wounds..." the doctor starts, but he already sounds unconvinced.
"My wounds are healing. I have had far worse in my life, trust me. - Ronan retorts - I am sure they'll be fine like this. They have been for the last couple of hours so far." he adds.
The doctor hesitates again, taking a breath to speak, but failing to find the words.
"I'll sign a waiver if you want, exhonerating you from all and any responsability for the damage this might cause. - Ronan offers - Just leave us alone. We are tired, and we've been though enough already." he adds, managing to sound aloof and assured, and at the same time exhausted.
The doctor shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath.
"I wash my hands of this, but I'll note down on your medical record that you have done this against my advice. - he warns - Good luck trying to get legal compensation if something goes wrong." he adds bitterly.
"Perfect. - Ronan comments instead - Goodnight then." he adds, flopping back on the bed and curling on one side.
Peter flops down with him, letting Ronan spoon his front lightly against his back. Gamora follows suit, pressing herself against Ronan's back. The doctor mutters under his breath, talking angrily to himself, but finally leaves, shutting the door behind him. The three of them release a collective sigh of relief.
"I didn't think it would work out." Gamora confesses.
"Remind me not to play bluffing games with you. How did you now about that research?" Peter retorts sleepily.
"I read it. Someone left the journal in the waiting room yesterday." Gamora replies.
The three nearly sleepless days are starting to tell, and the temptation of just giving in to the warmth and comfort of his present position is overwhelming. Groot sneaks quietly out of the vase and curls into his arms like a bendy, leafy cat. For some reason it feels right.
"I love you all, d'you know?" he mumbles.
Gamora manages a sleepy, humming sound, Ronan not even that. His breath is calm and regular. He is out like a light already.
Peter chuckles under his breath.
It is not long before he follows suit.