A/N: (Okay fine, I gave in and posted another update)
Dun, dun, dun! What's going to happen to Peter?! I'm worse than Ronan, aren't I? ;_; Merh sorreh, I don't mean to be all evil with the cliffhangers. Okay maybe I do, but hey! It adds effect. As promised, this chapter will have a bit more of Peter's perspective AND Guardians!bonding. Bit of angst and a lot of fluff to follow. Also, Rocket is being his awesome self.
1.) Marvel-Tolkien Fangirl, we authors sort of have a habit of leaving cliffhangers, though. ;)
alexis1612, Thank you so much, dear! It means the world to me, honestly. Starmora, okay. I am hereby officially calling Peter and Gamora 'Starmora'.
Doyle0915, I seem to have caved because here is another chapter. I was planning on posting this Monday, but ahh. Gosh, you're telling me. Peter definitely does NOT like me anymore. 'specially after all I put him , I've given him Gamora so.
penguin357, *flails because yay a cookie thank you* Ahem, it was obvious, the signs in the movie. It's about time she come to terms with them, eh?
Guest, ah yes, I'm working on it! I've got to weave them into the story so it makes sense and all, but trust me. I desperately want everything to be just Starmora because god knows there wasn't enough in the movie!
2.) Here, here, *tosses you all another chapter* Now THIS one is definitely longer. Full of Starmora, and fluff because why the hell not.
3.) Thank you, dearest readers + reviewers + followers + favorite-ers, I hope this chapter lives up to the first three, and do remember-leave any and all thoughts in a review. C: More reviews = faster updates.
She lifts her head away from the bed, wiping at the wetness in her eyes. Drax strides toward her, lifting a hand to lay it gently on her shoulder. Rocket settles down at her feet, clambering up to sit on her lap and folds his arms over his chest, his expression a mixture of attempted stoicism and a struggle to keep a lid on his own emotions. He makes something between a growl and sob, pinching the bridge of his furry nose with his paw before jumping off Gamora to the ground. He grounds out something about having lost too many already and abruptly pushes the medical staff out of the room until all that remain are himself, Drax and the weeping assassin. He nimbly leaps onto a table near the door and looks around himself at the miscellaneous devices, wires and cords at his feet.
Before the other two can wonder at what he's doing, the raccoon fumbles for a pair of rectangular blocks of xandarium wired to what appears to be a generator. He retrieves a screwdriver from his belt, unscrews a few knobs, switches their places and screws them back in. He then (carefully after making sure his fiddling wouldn't further complicate his friend's already complicated situation) unscrews one of the xandarium plates. Setting it aside, he fishes a small octagonal object from his pack and finds a place for it in between two nodes in the rectangular block. He begins to screw the plate back in when Gamora's voice over his shoulder startles him.
"Rocket, what is it you are doing? If it is to-"
He cuts her off with an upheld hand, quickly finishing the job at hand. "It is, and you know that if I could (I can, by the way) help this with my particular skillset, I would, no?" He doesn't wait for a response before thrusting the xandarium boxes into her hand. "Take these and give them to Drax. Tell him he's to hold them against Peter's sides, right along his ribcage." To her questioning glance, "These are like paddles. Erm...kickstart for his heart. I amped up the voltage because, well, if he can handle the Infinity Stone, he can take all the juice I've put into these babies." Her eyes widen with alarm, then narrow to dangerous slits.
"The Infinity Stone nearly killed him, Rocket," Gamora hisses. "I do not understand this logic you have strung together." Rocket growls his frustration and instead jerks his paw at Drax, as if to hurry her up.
"Just get it done, and I'll explain. COME ON, Gamora, we don't have much time!" the mammal shouts, pushing the wheeled table (generator, leads and all) closer to Peter. Gamora all but tosses the leads to Drax who (surprisingly deft for a man of his size) catches them and as per her instructions, holds either one to Peter's sides. "Ready?" Rocket calls out.
"I am prepared. Continue," Drax remarks gruffly.
"1...2...3...CLEAR!" the raccoon cries, flipping the switch on the generator as Drax presses the cold zandarium to Peter's now bared chest. The lights in the room flicker as electricity zips through the wires connecting lead to generator. Peter's body jerks, and the bed shakes as he hits hit with a solid thump. Moments tick by, slower than they all would like, but Rocket holds up a paw. "Wait," he tells them. "We have to wait."
Electricity (ɪlɛkˈtrɪsɪtɪ, ˌiːlɛk-) —n: 1. any phenomenon associated with stationary or moving electrons, ions, or other charged particles. It's the only descriptor that comes to mind in the few seconds of mental clarity he's given before light breaks through the darkness that's surrounded him. It shatters the blackness like glass, and he's blinking, his eyes squinting nearly shut to adjust to the blinding light.
He's pushed himself to a sitting position, pulling his knees up to his chest. The light washes over him, and ever afterwards, he distinctly remembers (he remembers this particular moment) the tingling sensation that runs through him when it hits his skin. It sinks into his core, and his brain—simple thing that it is—has just enough time to reason it's the electricity that forces life back into him. His lips don't feel so cold now, and confusion flits across his features. There's memory there. Memory of a kiss, and he desperately hopes it wasn't a dream. At last, he gets back on his feet, his breath coming out in gasps as he gets used to the weird feeling called "living". His heart's thrumming in his ears, pounding against his sternum now. He smiles at that. Isn't that easy to kill me, he thinks. The numb haze of moments ago has lifted, and with it, the darkness is slowly fading to a world of blurry shapes far too bright for his eyes.
One, a bluish green blob hovers way too close, and its big bluish green limbs are constricting his ribs in a bruising grip. A smaller grey blob scampers onto the bed, shouting something at the first pressure on Peter's ribs lessens considerably, and he's grateful. As his vision improves, he can just make out a lithe green form approaching his side. Gamora. She kneels down beside him, laying her elbows on the edge of the bed and resting her chin on her arms. It's only after he's blinked a few times (and seeing the world much more clearly) that he catches the sight of tears in her eyes. His brows pull together in a frown.
"Gams...Gams, wha'happened?" he asks, his speech somewhat slurred. Another diamond rolls down her face, and she tries (she really tries) to smile for him. She reaches up and lays her hand on his.
"You ask me what has happened? Quill, do you not remember?" she asks in a voice so quiet it could hardly be called a whisper. Her voice wavers ever so slightly, and of all the thoughts he's entertaining at the current moment-not one of them is the possibility that she, Gamora the assassin, could ever worry for him, the very destructible Terran. Therefore, he's still in a state of confusion when he finally forms words.
"All I r'member is big flash, too much purple and then, nothing," he says in response. His gaze drops to his hands when he continues, "It was cold and really dark. Like the deep space sort of dark, without any stars." Or without any you, he adds in his mind. He chooses to leave out the bit about her heartbeat. His face grows warm all of a sudden, and by the inquisitive arch of Gamora's eyebrows, he knows he's royally screwed. As he has rightly guessed, Gamora catches the rosiness in his cheeks and reasons from it that the man has something (innocent, but bashful no doubt) to hide. "Then really, really bright light and Drax crushing my bones."
"I had no intention of further injuring you, friend," Drax comments somewhat apologetically. Peter waves it away with a nonchalant flick of his wrist...and pretends that the movement didn't just send pain zipping through the neurons of his left arm.
An indignant raccoon clears his throat somewhere off to the right.
"You gonna chew me out for saving the galaxy, Ranger Rick?" Peter quips. Rocket's mouth falls open in pure upset indignation and maybe a little surprise. But he closes it.
"We're even, Star-Dork. Only reason you're still here's 'cause my mad skills," the raccoon snorts with a swish of his tail. Gamora stifles a laugh at that, distracting Peter's attention. He arches a brow, cocking his head as he regards her with a wolfish grin.
"I've never actually heard you laugh. First time I do, you try to hide it?" he grins. Gamora throws him a mock glare and rolls her eyes.
"Rocket has made a humorous statement. I did not feel as if it were-" she pauses, dropping her gaze as she considers her next words. "I did not feel as if it were proper to laugh out loud. I feel quite embarrassed now that I have." Nonetheless, a laughing smile spreads over her lips when she meets his gaze. He mirrors her smile and starts to move as if to push himself up, but excruciating pain lances across the lower half of his torso and he abandons the effort. This elicits a flicker of worry from Gamora, who tenses and leans forward ever so slightly, her dark eyes wide. He waves her away and instead lifts the hem of his shirt up far enough to examine the source of his discomfort. It's then that he sees the stretchy (and irritatingly itchy) white bandages wrapped snugly around the lower half of his abdomen and his pelvic region. The bandages are thickest above his pelvis and is that blood? He frowns, making an effort to remember how the hell and when the hell he'd received this injury. Try as he might, no memory presented itself. (This frustrates him.)
"What the hell is this?" He scoffs, flicking a finger in the direction of the injury. The assassin, the raccoon and the walking thesaurus all share a glance before Gamora speaks up.
"After the death of Ronan, Drax found you under a pile of rubble. We discovered you had sustained a rather large piece of shrapnel just above your leg," she remarks as calmly as if giving him the time of day. "You lost quite a large amount of blood when they removed it." And you dared to frighten me more than was necessary, she thinks in hindsight.
Peter's face contorts in disappointment, and to Gamora, his face vividly reminds her of a child who has been told he cannot play outside for a day no matter how much the child desires it. She isn't laughing at his misery. (God knows, she wept because of it.) But she allows herself a small smile because of him. "Aww, man. Seriously? Not cool. I'l be here forever," he whines, letting his head drop back into the pillows.
"I sure as hell won't," the raccoon comments. "So happy Peter Pan's alive and kicking. But I've got ship parts to tinker with." With that, he dashed out of the room to Peter's cry of "Not my ship's!"
Gamora watches the exchange with a muted smile as the raccoon flees the scene. Peter mumbles something about a coonskin cap and some man named Daniel Boone. "Peter, perhaps you can explain this to me as I am confused," she begins, a small laugh escaping her lips.
"Shoot!" He grins from ear to ear, and for the first time in a long time, she thanks her stars to see his impossible boyish glee she'd come to love.
"Why would I shoot you? I have no weapon nor the desire to shoot you, Peter," she remarks in puzzlement. "Nevermind. Explain this to me, if you can. I believe in my experience that only female Terrans experience rosiness in their facial region. This often happens during courtship, I have noticed. Am I correct?"
She receives her answer when he flushes bright red. He reaches up to rub the back of his neck and studiously avoids her gaze, floundering as he searches for words. She tries not to laugh because by Graphthar's hammer, he is too cute when embarrassed. He decides on, "I, uh, well. Gam, it's a metaphor."
"The redness of your face is a metaphor?"
"No! When I said 'shoot', it means 'go ahead and ask'. It's...agh, never mind," he grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"You are evading my question," Gamora observes, tilting her head slightly as she watches him. Flustered, the poor man snaps his head up to meet her gaze head-on and just sighs.
"Alright, I blushed," he finally relents. "Because," his brows arch, his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water (which makes the assassin a giggling assassin) and he gestures with his hands turned palm-upwards, "I was embarrassed. There. Happy?" She rolls her shoulders in a shrug, which earns a nonplussed huff from Peter who crosses his arms over his chest.
"I was only curious," she smirks, blinking fluttering lashes. "You have given me a satisfactory answer. If there is nothing else, I will rejoin Rocket and Groot." She slowly rises to her feet, shrugging her dark tresses over one shoulder. As she strides toward the door, Peter watches her leave. Moments before her foot crosses the threshhold, he acts on an impulse.
"Stay. Please?"
She waits for the span of several heartbeats, just for her own consideration of whether this would actually be a good idea. Then, she turns on a heel, glancing at him over her shoulder. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her hands along the wrinkles made by the depression. "What I said earlier, about it being dark and all." She keeps her gaze on him, a small glint of interest in her eyes as she does so. Yet she remains quiet and lets him continue. "I was dying, wasn't I?"
The bed creaks a little as she nods. "Yes, as you lay in that starless darkness, Drax searched for you and we found you on the brink of death. You were dying," she replies and hates the way her own voice betrays her, cracking over the last word.
"You really want to know why I was blushing?" he asks, swiftly (and somewhat oddly, she thinks) changing the subject. It's odd enough that she stops playing with the leather gloves encasing her hands to look up at him with furrowed brows.
"It is trivial, Quill. I only meant to tease you," she remarks, shaking her head. But then she catches the way his face falls, and his gaze drops. It's minute, and she's fairly sure he never meant her to see it; but she still sees it. Which is why she asks. "Why?"
"I wasn't missing just the stars," he says somberly. "I could have had them, and I'd still have been alone." That's when it hits her. She realizes in that moment what he's trying to tell her, and it shakes her to her core.
A/N: Since this chapter's done, I'll go ahead and say it. Peter survived as long as he did because of his Spartoi D.N.A, and in my opinion, that has rendered him considerably more resilient. (Forgive me if I'm mis-written mention of that, because I haven't read the comics. I desperately want to, but anything I do know about the Guardians is from online research). The Stone would have been interesting to use, but being as its power nearly killed him, I couldn't write it as possibly saving him. His heart only gave out because of, well, his human part being dragged through the ringer. The 'electricity' in the beginning is mostly Rocket's fiddling with the leads.
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