Ever since they killed the monster on planet Vogrars, Peter couldn't catch his breath. He chalked it up to changes in pressure in the atmosphere, just a hairline crack in his mask that he would have to look into at a safer time. Although, now that they were back on the Milano safe and sound, a thought crawled into the back of his mind that maybe, it wasn't normal, and that something was very, very wrong. He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the cloud that had seemed to fill it. The controls under his fingers were rough, and as he went to pull the left joystick to adjust the boosters, his fingers trembled.
"Shit..." he swiped his hands across his eyes and pulled in a breath, eyes darting conspicuously across the control room. He thanked whatever was out there that none of his team had seen him.
Just in time, Peter realized that the left wing was dipping and if he didn't compensate on the right, the whole ship could go into a tailspin which would cause even more problems. He slammed buttons and pulled back speed, the force of the stop sending him forward into the sharp edge of the control panel. He cursed again, realizing the sudden stop could have woken his sleeping team.His suspicions were confirmed as he caught a green blur out of the corner of his eye, and a hand resting on his shoulder.
"Everything alright?" Gamora questioned with a curl of her lips.
He cleared his throat and jammed the palms of his hands over his eyes after flipping on the autopilot. It would take them a little longer to navigate and get to their buyer, but Peter didn't think he could take another minute of sitting in the pilot seat, thinking of all the things he could do wrong to get them all killed.
"Yeah, good, just ready to get some shut-eye." He pulled the corners of his lips into a grimace-like smile and stood wobbily. He prayed that Gamora was too sleep deprived to notice the way he turned his eyes away, and how he grabbed onto the doorway to keep from stumbling. Something was fucking with his system, that was all, he was getting older. He didn't need her to see that he was vulnerable, weak, possibly unable to continue being an operable part of the team. He didn't want to be seen as useless because of his Terran origins.
At this thought, Peter resolved that he would under no circumstances show this weakness, whatever had come over him after the battle would be his own shitty baggage, and his alone. He hid it well enough for as long as he had been. He hoped that whatever it was would be fixed by some good music and sleep, but that indistinct voice in the back of his head just didn't quite believe it.
__________
A few days later, Peter woke up to the smell of fire.
The scent of burning metal hit his nose and stung his eyes. He shot up in his bed and swore, red and orange flames surrounding him. He could feel the stifling heat on the planes of his face.
"Shit! Gamora! Drax!" He coughed on the smoke filling his throat and lungs, "Rocket!" A shock ripped through his chest as he realized the last member of his team, Groot, was extremely flammable and tiny. He wouldn't survive this easily. He tapped the side of his bed to test the heat of the metal and hissed when he discovered that it was indeed, insanely hot.
"Groot? Buddy!"
How could this have happened? Had he pressed some button he shouldn't have before he had gone to bed? Memories of a few hours previous flashed through his eyes and he just doesn't remember, unable to sort through the fog in his mind...
Sweat collects on his forehead and he's almost soaked through his shirt. Breathing becomes harder, almost impossible as he sucks in a mixture of smoke and ember. If there's a hole in the ship...oxygen was going to run out quick, holy shit...he was going to die.
Phantom touches ran across his shoulder and neck, and he jumped, back slamming into the hot metal of the wall behind him with a crash. Maybe it was flames, and the last favor his body could do for him before dying was turning it into the idea of something comforting.
There was absolutely no air any longer, and his chest burned with the intensity of Peocury's ten suns. His fingers wove themselves into his shirt and he gripped his chest hard enough to draw blood, god, it hurt so badly... he was going to die!
There was.. something pulling his hand away. It felt gentle but strong, a force that felt personal. He supposed it was a grim reaper of sorts, taking him away from the pain of the fire on his skin and in his lungs.
"Quill!"
Peter was slammed back into his body, to a bed that was cold in comparison to the fire he had been engulfed in moments previous. He felt fingers pressing themselves into his shoulders and a soft fur ticking his collarbone.
"Please, Peter, breathe-"
His eyes snapped open and he gasped in air, beautiful and clean. He was met with four sets of eyes filled with fear. Peter let out a shout and pushed himself away from the hands, they were too close, he needed his own oxygen...
"Hey! Hey, Pete, it's alright-"
"He is obviously not alright. Look at him!" Drax sounded almost.. panicked?
"It's a— you know what, whatever."
"Guys!! I'm freaking out here!" His own voice startled him. It was rough, like he had just swallowed some gravel, and it definitely didn't feel too great in his throat. "What the fuck, what the hell happened? Th-the fire..." His eyes frantically took in his undamaged trunk, his unsinged blankets, and his friends, who he thought were dead.
That wasn't a thing his brain should have reminded him of, Peter realized, as that same tightness returned to his lungs. "Shit!" He hissed as his chest rose and fell rapidly.
"What fire? Peter, you're scaring us." Gamora's eyes were filled with hurt and concern and Peter really did think he was going nuts. "We woke up to your screams, and-"
He felt a blush creep up his face. He had called for them in his sleep, which was embarrassing at best. "It was just a dream, I'm sorry I woke you up." He pulled a hand through his tangled hair and tried to breathe deeply. His fingers trembled as he adjusted his shirt.
"Peter, you weren't dreaming. You were awake, your eyes were open and..you looked terrified." Gamoras hand came up to rest on his cheek. He would have under any other circumstance melted into her touch, compassionate and gentle and forgiving, but it felt too hot against his already warm skin and he flinched hard, his arm coming up to knock hers out of the way.
"Just... I need some space, I'm sorry." He stumbled out of his bed and made his way to the bathroom, letting the door shut quietly behind him. He turned on the shower and felt the cold water hitting his back, refreshing and driving away the heat that had surrounded him like a blanket. This sucked.
__________
It was awkward, breakfast. They sat in a quiet circle, the only noise floating through the room being soft whirls from the machinery and forks against ceramic. Peter wasn't sure if he liked it or if it was too similar to how it was before, when he was alone, before the guardians. It was odd.
He cleared his sore throat. "So, I figured we could get to Sputtner in at least 24 hours, if we really-"
The sound of a glass being brought down hard against the table caused Peter to lose his place in this sentence. It sent shocks through the table and all eyes were on Gamora.
"We are not going to ignore last night as if it never happened." Her voice was deep and serious, a slight shake could be found if one really listened. Peter liked to think he read people pretty well, and this was dripping with barely concealed anger that was radiating off his teammate. Diffusing tension was also one of his specialties (he thought at least, in reality, not so much).
"The number of times I've heard that from some chick after a night of drinking is insane." He gave a little dry chuckle but held up his hands, defeated, when no one laughed.
Silence. He sighed and set his elbows on the table, head coming to rest in his hands. "Listen, guys, it was just a nightmare.. I'm fine! See!" He gave his chest a few little taps with his knuckles, "A-okay!"
"You didn't hear yourself," Rocket muttered.
He had been dreaming of some kind of gun, some new invention or whatever the hell when he was pulled from sleep. It took him a few moments to realize that Quill was screaming his head off, something about fire and dying...
It took him about three seconds to cross the hall and burst inside, taking in the sight before him. His friend was shaking so hard he was sure the Milano was trembling from the force, and ragged, choked breaths filled the otherwise completely silent room. Soon Gamora had pushed past him - he was still so shaken by what was happening in front of him he hadn't moved since he'd come in - and she was pushing at his limbs, trying to unfold him from his bent position enough so that he could breathe. His arms looked like they were made of lead and Peter, Peter whimpered, a choked noise that set him into action.
Rocket shook his head to be rid of the memory and stood up from his chair, sulking in the corner of the room. Peter stared after him in shock.
"I- what do you want me to say? Admit I've felt even MORE fucked up than usual since we killed that monster?" He set his teeth, "Well there's your answer to what's wrong. I have."
He stared Gamora straight in the eye; he waited for the contempt to show on their faces, the ugly hatred leaking into their features the way he had seen so many times before in his nightmares. Contempt marring the concern they wear as a mask. It didn't happen. What he witnessed was flashes of shock and concern across her usually impassive features. "How bad was it, one out of ten?" Her teeth were set and her eyes were steely, the concern being confused with anger.
"What? Uh..." he thought for a second, staring into her eyes, "Si-six?" No one had ever asked him that question before, but thinking back to past nightmares and...what would you even call them? Episodes? This had definitely spooked him.
Peter was strong, he had proved that much to them, and for him to be so out of it was honestly quite terrifying.
"Why didn't you say anything?" Drax spoke up.
"I am Groot!" Groot's little voice peeped up from the side of him, and he saw a small vine wrap it's way around his index finger gently. Gigantic glassy brown eyes met Peters's and he almost felt like sobbing, the little dude's pronouncement of support pulling at his heart.
His voice was barely a whisper, his eyes confused and shiny. "You don't hate me?"
"Why would we hate you?" Drax questioned. "The monster venom is what caused this, not you."
There was silence.
"Huh?" Rocket remarked. Gamora's gaze locked with Peter's and his brows were pulled together, creating those lines that she had always wanted to run her fingers over.
"I have read the report that was given to us prior to the mission," Drax stated matter of fact.
Gamora stood and typed something into her tablet's screen. She read, and gave a roll of her eyes that was almost a sigh of relief. "Now we know what we're dealing with."
Peter swallowed and forced himself to stay in his seat, a nervous energy building under his skin like electricity.
___________
There was nothing they could do but wait. Rocket hounded Drax about not saying anything about the venom sooner, and Peter just sat in the corner, a lost look settled into his face that made Gamora's blood turn cold. Heat ran down his skin in waves and it was all he could do to not pop open a window and jump.
"How are you feeling?"
He started, breath already catching painfully in his throat.
"Fine." He lied.
"Listen," she lowered her voice, "This..poison-"
"Venom." He cut her off.
"Excuse me?"
He coughed, turning his gaze to his hands trembling in his lap, "Poison is something you take in, ingest. Venom is injected. Sorry."
Gamora gave a slight shake of her head and continued with the hint of a smile on her face. "This venom is strange. There's no data on how it affects terrans, but we do know it affects the nervous system. It sets emotions to 100."
Peter was anything but unemotional. They guided his actions, words; he was basically a huge clump of them all, all wrapped up in a package.
"This should fix it. All of our research says so." It was meant to be reassuring, but the open-ended statement left time conveniently out of the equation. She passed him a cup and he brought it to his nose to smell it. The scent wasn't actually as terrible as he thought it would be, a gentle mix of...something resembling cinnamon and sage leaves. He threw it back like a shot and slammed it down on the table with a grimace.
Peter sighed and laid back in his seat, head coming to rest against the leather. "So we wait."
She nodded and averted her eyes to the window. "We wait."
__________
"You...you pulled me out."
Gamora turned her head slowly, hearing Quills soft voice from above her. His chin was nestled in her hair and she had wrapped a blanket around the two of them, his ever-present heat enveloping her in a palliative cradle. It had taken some time for Peter's heart to calm and for his breaths to even, but eventually, his eyelids drooped, and she halfway carried him to his bed. An arm sneakily wrapped its way around her waist and she was pulled down to rest beside him, a dopey, half-lidded gaze searching her face.
She gave a huff that resembled a laugh and settled further into his chest, eyes looking into his.
"What do you mean?" The very tips of her teeth were visible as she gave a small laugh.
"I, I thought the ship had caught fire. I thought it was over," She felt him take a deep, long breath and continue. "I don't know the..intent of that venom but.. I know it wasn't merciful. There was heat, fire, a pain in my chest as immovable as a planet, but, Gamora, I heard you and it pulled me out." He finished simply. She almost let a tear slip onto her cheek but rubbed a palm across her eyes while she responded, "I will always be here for you, Star-Lord." She gripped his hand in hers and squeezed, bringing it up to her lips, kissing the scarred knuckles softly.
"You're the best thing in my life, 'Mora."
She smiled and gave a slight shake of her head, ready to say something about his precious music. She turned to place another soft kiss on his cheek but discovered his eyes to be closed, soft snores escaping his parted lips. It was a view she could definitely get used to.