Chapter 12
Quill begrudgingly redirected the flight path for the ship, much to America’s instant fascination. She was staring at everything with such a child-like wonder that Stephen could hardly tell her to knock it off.
Not that anyone noticed, America moved the large ax out of the seat before plopping down close to the window. She leaned her arm and head there, feeling the coldness and condensation against her skin. Tiredness made her eyelids heavy as she gazed at the vastness of space.
In other worlds, America noted the different clusters of constellations. Some seemed to follow her. She could always find Orion’s belt in nearly every universe, or sometimes Crux and Centaurus, though each varied in some way.
Her mom liked to point them out on hot, summer nights. America would sit snuggled between the two of them, perfectly content gazing at the stars.
If only they could see her now.
Stephen glanced over at the slumped over form of the girl. She had one hand sandwiched between the glass and her face and the other hand curled up under her chin, which had tiny, purple shadows appearing around the edge.
He had claimed the seat diagonal to her after the guardians shuffled around to make room. Drax, Groot, and Rocket were sitting a few feet behind them on boxes or on the floor. They had what resembled playing cards in their hands (or paws).
After pushing the appropriate buttons and a fair amount of grumbling, Quill made his way back down the ladder with Gamora not far behind them. Thor had waited for them to shuffle down before making his way to the pilot’s chair and orientating it towards Strange.
Thor narrowed his eye on Strange, sizing him up and down- gelled hair to scoffed boots and back up again. “You look thinner since last we crossed paths.”
The upside down T crease formed between his eyebrows. “You had both eyes last time,” he jabbed back defensively.
There was a beat of silence before Thor let out a gruffed and boisterous chuckle. “Ahh. Indeed. What have you been up to my wizard friend?”
Sorcerer. Stephen swallowed the correction. “We had to save Earth a couple more times. Nothing too major.”
America was trying to stay awake, opening her eyes wider when they began to drop heavily. The ship had a dull hum that cocooned her with white noise. Despite her fight against it, she was lulled into unconsciousness.
America bent down in the cluster of tall grass, peering through the slits. A gentle breeze threatened to expose her as it shifted the blades.
It was midevening, right as the sun began to cast a gold hue over the earth. Its final drawn out farewell before it left for the night.
America was small enough to be fully concealed, if not for her bright blue tunic that could not be muted by the green. A twig snapped behind her and America jumped to her feet, sprinting through the blades as they clung to her ankles.
She ran, feeling her heart thunder against her chest until she felt something coil around her body and lift her from the ground.
“Found you, mi amada.” Her mom sneered playfully, rolling America closer to her face.
The five year old erupted into giggles and continuously wiggled her feet as her mom planted what felt like a hundred tiny kisses on her cheeks and forehead. “Mama!” her voice squealed delightfully, though she was still trying to escape her grasp.
“No quieres mis besos?” Mama asked, tucking America tighter into her chest.
“No!”
Mama set her down again in the grassy field. Their house was just up ahead, past the large leafy tree. Without speaking, America had given Mama a devilish look before breaking into a sprint towards the house.
She could hear her mom running behind her over the thudding of her own foot falls. America was nearly at the tree, giggles so freely floating from her chest.
Her hand was outstretched towards the wrinkled bark, ready to accept her great triumph.
The memory changed around her.
No longer was she running through the field, but sitting in a patch of wild flowers. They bloomed for the mid day sun and made the summer breezes smell sweetly.
Her mama’s favorite flower grew in this area every year. The stem rose from the ground and ended with a bundle of clustered purple flowers. America picked the plant and excitedly handed it to mama.
She reached for another.
The lights on the dashboard began to flicker.
Thor stopped talking to frown at the control panel. Even the light strips running along the ceiling started to fluctuate in brightness.
Stephen glanced over at America, who was scowling in her sleep. The hand that was tucked under her chin was clenched.
Mantis stood from her seat and was curiously staring at America murmuring. She touched her finger to America’s temple and the orbs on the ends of her antenna began go glow white.
“Hey,” Strange stood up, his hand inching forward. “What are you doing?”
“She is....” Mantis had her eyes closed and her face pinched. She let out an anguished sigh. “Very sad. She mourns.”
The ship began to rattle. “What's going on?” Rocket slid off the tool box. “Hey bonehead, what'd you do to the ship?”
Thor lifting his hands innocently, looking back as the monitors began to beep.
“Mantis, stop,” Strange tried. A tear clung to the corner of America’s eye.
Mantis was transfixed. Her face twisted in pain. “I...cannot.” America began to tense in the seat just as Mantis let out a pained whimper.
“Mantis, let her go,” Rocket demanded, scurrying over to the dash board and whining, “she's overloading the sensors!”
Stephen crossed the space and leaned towards America. “Kid, you gotta wake up now. It's just a dream.”
Only he knew it wasn't. She was somewhere reliving one of her traumas. Her body was experiencing the same sensations as her mind plagued her with past terrors.
The ship was rumbling with energy, lurching forward. They could hear Quill and Gamora clammering up the ladder just as Mantis threw her head back. Her eyelids opened to reveal completely blue eyes. The ends of her anntena matched.
“I am Groot.”
“Me neither,” Drax responded as the lights on the ship brightened with an increased hum before completely shutting off. Something shattered beneath the control panel and the ship gave one final lurch before completely stopping.
Mantis collapsed.
“What the hell just happened?” Quill demanded. “We stopped. Why are we stopped?” He had his headphones around his neck and September by Earth, Wind, Fire was muffled by the collar of his jacket.
Stephen was still crouched in front of America, gently shaking her knee. His hand hesitated but pressed against her throat. Steady and fast, but alive.
Gamora and Drax were hovering over Mantis.
Meanwhile, Rocket had a chisel in his grasp and pried free a panel to reveal two shattered tubes. “Goddamnit! The converters blew.” In frustration, he tossed the chisel on the ground.
“Get new ones,” Thor said with a nonchalant shrug, which earned him a snarl from the creature.
“Oh! Okay problem solved. We’ll just go get our back up CONVERTERS.” He was growling as he yelled.
And yet, Thor still could not understand what the issue was. He rolled his eyes but managed to offer a sincere, “you’re welcome.”
Rocket screamed and kicked the dash, but his little raccoon boot did not so much as dent it. “We’d have to strip it off another ship. Do you see another ship? We’re right in the right in the middle of a mother f-ing dead zone.”
Quill moved past Mantis after giving her a concerned glance. He pointed a finger at Stephen, who stepped defensively on the side of America’s chair. “Your kid broke our stuff,” Peter snapped. “You two need to fix it.”
Stephen ground his teeth together. Really, truly, it could have been so much worse of a situation had America opened a multiverse portal inside the ship. “I don’t know how to fix a space ship,” Stephen said, breaking down the sentence into bite sized words by emphasizing everything.
Peter huffed, glaring. He stepped past him and regarded the shattered parts with Rocket. This wasn’t a tape-and-pray kind of situation.
“I am Groot.”
“We’re not homeless,” Gamora groaned at the teen shrub. “We’ll figure something out. Send a distress beacon.”
“Fantastic idea, it just won’t work. All energy has to pass through these converters. Including messages,” Rocket snapped back, ignoring the dirty scowl Gamora gave him in return.
“That seems like a design flaw,” Stephen muttered. He really wished he could keep his mouth shut, but most the time he was unchecked.
Thor snapped his fingers, “Strange, just portal us to Xandar.”
The sorcerer tsked. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Super helpful wizard you are,” Quill sneered sarcastically.
Strange narrowed his eyes and the quick thought of pointing out that they could’ve prevented Thanos murdering half the population for five years had Quill just stuck to the plan…. But Strange wasn’t that petty… or was he?
America shifted in her chair, a curl falling over her face before she let out a stifled yawn. She wiped her eyes and then noticed everyone standing and staring at her.
She looked up at Stephen with concern and expectation. “Whats goin on?” Light from the stars reflected off of her slightly clammy skin.
He bent at the hip and used his thumb to gently pull up each of her eyelids, assessing pupil dilation and looking for abnormalities. She frowned at him after pulling away, still obviously groggy. “Are you alright?” His voice was quiet and low, like he only wanted her to hear it.
America felt weird. Her body felt like tv static, like all of her molecules were buzzing together with the same itchy frequency. Her brain felt the same way, like sandpaper scraping against other sandpaper.
Stephen quietly explained that she had a nightmare and now they were momentarily stranded in space. America looked sick.
“Thor,” Quill piped. “If you hit the dash with the ax, we may have enough energy stored to get us to Xandar.”
“That’s not how that works,” Thor mimicked. A back and forth bit of bickering ensued. Rocket was trying to explain that a consistent form of energy could get them there but Quill was being bitchy about it.
“She could do it.” Mantis had lifted half her body from the floor with support from Gamora and gestured towards America. She looked paler than normal.
“What?” America let out in a slightly panicked voice. “Do what?”
“I have seen it.” Mantis explained. “You are very powerful.”
“Yeah, but I can’t control it,” her voice broke. Tears swelled in her eyes.
Stephen swallowed. “Yes you can.” He held her gaze when she looked up to him. “You can,” he said with more affirmation.
“No I—“
“Am I ever wrong?” Stephen asked seriously. He had a glint in his eye that suggested it wasn’t a rhetorical question.
America sniffled and swiped her cheek with the pads of her fingers. “I mean—“
“Nope. I’m never wrong, so don’t argue with me. You can do this.” His tone remained stern but encouraging. “It will take patience and focus.”
America let out a groan. It was the same thing he always said to her. He said it so much that it rattled around in her brain after she’d fall asleep, like a really catchy but annoying song.
“If we’re going to do this, let’s get a move on,” Quill gestured towards the dash board expectantly. “We’re not burning daylight but I’m gonna be pissed if the RatJerk guy is gone.”
Stephen gave America an encouraging head nod before she stood up. She tightened her jean jacket over herself before moving towards the dash board as Quill and Thor stepped out of the way.
The stars momentarily captivated her attention. They gleamed unknowingly at her. She could be content here, aimlessly floating until they all ran out of oxygen.
Oh no. They’d probably run out of food first. America shook the thought and gingerly sat down beside Rocket.
“These are the converters,” Rocket explained, somewhat patiently. It wasn’t his strong suit but he was doing a fairly decent job at it. “See these coils?” He gestured towards the wound up wires on each end.
America nodded, blinking the sleepiness that remained in her eyes.
“The energy is supposed to jump between these two coils, but someone broke the chamber.” He drawled out and threw America a pointed look. “If you channel enough power or energy—whatever mumbo jumbo crap you have— into these coils, we may have enough juice to blast us the rest of the way. But it needs to be steady and consistent, otherwise you might fry the whole thing. Then we’d really be fucked.”
America gulped and wiped her hands on her jeans. Why did it have to be her? She felt eight pairs (she paired Stephen’s third and Thor’s one) on her, expectantly.
Her entire body told her to run. Fuck the consequences. Jump through a portal. Hide from the world. Eat a pizza and never talk to another Dr. Strange as long as she lived.
She took a breath. Patience and focus. Her hands pressed into the dash as she tightly closed her eyes.
In. Out. In. Out.
Despite the guardians being equally bad at staying quiet, the ship was silent for her. She could faintly hear Turn to Stone by Electric Light Orchestra from Peter’s headphones.
She focused on that while her stomach bubbled with energy. It rose to her chest and expanded in the cavity.
When Mordor was attacking her, this came easy. She was scared, but she didn’t want to run like she always did.
I’m not running, she told herself as energy pooled to her fingertips and the dashboard and strip lights began to flicker to life.
Stephen couldn’t help the smile of pride pulling on his cheeks as the ship sputtered and grumbled, but maintained charge.
“Just like that,” Quill gingerly sat in the pilot’s seat. “Just keep ‘er steady.” He began turning dials and pressing buttons. “I’d hold on to something, this might get a little choppy.”
America could feel the energy pulsing through her but was numb to outside stimulation. All she could hear was Quill’s music.
“Yeah baby, now we’re in business,” Quill cheered, daring to send the ship forward. While it stuttered slightly, the ship moved quickly passed the dead zone.
Less than five minutes later, Xandar could be seen as a blue dot gradually becoming bigger.
“And on our right,” Quill joked, “the planet of Xandar. You’re doing good, kid. Nice and easy with her.”
America’s steadiness began to falter the longer she focused. It started as a small thought in the back of her mind, a whisper of a thought that the back of her arm itched.
The thought picked up momentum as other places began to phantom itch. Like her hairline. Her shoulder. Her left middle toe.
She fidgeted and the ship lurched, sending everyone two feet forward. Curses showered from several of the guardians mouths.
“Woah-kay, steady kid.” Peter coached. She focused on the energy expanding in her chest again, letting it drain down her arm.
The ship entered the atmosphere and now Stephen could make out lavishly greenery from massive trees with waterways moving through the land. As they flew further and further down, Stephen could see buildings toppled in on one another. There were scorched, half standing structures and crumbled statues with stagnant fountains.
“What happened?” He watched as crowds of people meandered muddy roads from above the tree line.
“Thanos,” Gamora answered solemnly, with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Gently now,” Quill’s voice tightened. He was nearly ready to land but was approaching the ground a little further than they should’ve been. “Okay! Careful. I think you can ease up on the power.”
America was in her own mental space, jamming out to whatever song came through Peter’s headsets. It wasn’t until a pair of hands clasped her shoulders that she was pulled from the mental space. Her energy dissipated in her chest.
“Oh shit! I didn’t mean completely!” Trees surrounded them as the ship was free falling the rest of the way. Peter turned as hard right as he could, sending the passengers into the wall or the windows if they weren’t hanging on to something.
The ship bounced slightly off the ground then drug across a gravel path for several hundred feet before coming to a stop.
America’s mouth fell open and she abruptly turned towards Stephen with wide eyes. “See? I’m always right.”