He woke up gasping for air. He was sweating so much that his sheets were completely wet. He started hyperventilating because he couldn't breathe, and he was coming for him again, and…
He forced himself to look around and calm down. He wasn't there anymore. He was on his bed in the Eclector and he was fine. Sure, keep repeating it and maybe someday you’ll end up believing it he thought sarcastically.
Peter sighed and sat up. He walked to the table on a corner of the room, and he turned the lamp on. When he looked down he realized his hands were trembling, and he hated himself for it. Enough time had passed, his hands shouldn't tremble, he shouldn't wake up every night plagued by nightmares. Well, at least he didn’t wake up screaming anymore. Why can't I be so tough as my teammates? He thought, frustrated. Rocket had been subjected to inhuman experiments, Gamora had a horrible childhood tortured by Thanos, Drax lost his entire family, Groot almost died… but they all had survived and moved on, while he felt stuck. And he wanted to forget everything that had happened so badly, but he just couldn't. Sometimes he managed not to think about it during the day. But he couldn't avoid the nightmares.
Peter grabbed the Zune, hidden under his pillow, and scrolled through the songs. He still had not gotten used to the modern music player (300 songs, how was that even possible?) He wondered how this Terran device ended up in space and how Yon… He stopped right there, but it was too late. His mind had already made him remember that crooked and savage smile, and a familiar whistle filled his ears. A weight settled on his chest, a hand of stone squeezing his heart. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes until the moisture he felt behind his eyelids left. And then he started to see bright tentacles of light and he had to open them again. Knowing he wasn't going to sleep again, he put his earbuds in while “What’s up?” of a band called “4 Non Blondies” played on the background, and he waited for the day to start so he could stop being a prisoner in his own mind.
After the horrors of the night came the numbness of the day. And it was exactly that: a petrifying numbness. He knew he used to feel annoyance when Rocket and Drax fought, happiness when Groot danced, and his heart used to beat really fast every time Gamora walked into a room. All those feelings were still there inside him, he just couldn't reach them. He felt like he was inside a glass cage. He could almost touch the feelings he used to have, but the walls of the cage stopped him. At first he thought this was just temporary. He would be back to normal sooner or later, he just needed time. Time heals everything, right?
He didn't know who made up that saying, but he was a fucking liar. So Peter decided that, if he couldn’t be back to normal, at least he could pretend he was. He didn’t want to worry his friends, they had put up with him long enough. He was convinced he took the wrong career choice. He should have become an actor instead of saving the galaxy. He would force a smile every time Groot danced, and pretend to get angry when Rocket and Drax’ fights became too loud. He spent as little time with Gamora as possible though because he was afraid she could read his soul with just one look of those dark eyes. In short, he went through the motions, and he focused the rest of his energy on not letting his mind wander to the origins of his nightmares.
Unfortunately, Peter wasn't as good of an actor as he believed. All the guardians could see their leader wasn't who he used to be. He was like a robot, reacting as it was appropriate at the determinate moments. And the sparkle in his eyes that would always light up when he had a crazy idea or when they had finished a mission successfully, was completely gone.
“What he needs is a good beating” Rocket said one day when, after eating, Peter had headed back to his room without saying a word.
Drax frowned and said:
“I very much doubt that is what our friend needs. We should talk to him and make him tell us how he feels”.
“We have already tried it, Drax” Gamora replied, sighing. “And he always says the same thing. You don’t need to worry, I’m fine”.
“And it ain't true!” Rocket shouted, and Groot added “I am Groot” with a tone that was clearly backing up Rocket.
“I know” Gamora said. “But what can we do if he doesn't want to talk to us?”
“We beat him up and force him to tell us!”
“Rocket…” Gamora said pinching the bridge of her nose.
The truth was that Peter’s attitude worried her. He had been through really traumatic events, and his suffering was completely normal. But he would feel better if he let them help him. Maybe he doesn’t trust us enough? Gamora thought, frowning. She feared that if Peter went on like this, he would waste himself away slowly until there would be nothing left of that optimistic, sometimes even naive, man she had once met. And the worst thing was that no one could stop him.
“Maybe I can help”.
They all turned to the voice interrupting the discussion. Mantis, the newest member of the team, stood in the doorway with a soft smile.
“That’s a good solution” Drax said. “Maybe Mantis can find out what is wrong with our friend”.
“What’s wrong was that he had to kill his biological father because he was a fucking asshole, and then his adoptive father died. And you” Rocket said pointing at Mantis, “could’ve prevented everything if you had told us the fucking truth earlier”.
The empath looked down with her eyes full of tears and Drax, who felt really protective towards Mantis since he met her, looked at his teammate with murderous eyes.
“Do not yell at Mantis!” he said, standing up while he unsheathed his knives.
Rocket jumped onto the table with a gun in each hand, and pointed them at Drax.
“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”
“I am Groot” the tree said with distress while he tugged at his friend’s sleeve.
Gamora stood up before the situation got out of hand (not that it could get much worse) and slammed her hand on the table.
“Stop!” she shouted. “Do you think this is what Peter needs right now? To hear us fighting and bickering like children?”
They all kept silent after that. Gamora, glad to see her words had the desired effect, turned to Mantis and said:
“Thanks, Mantis. We appreciate your help, but it’s better if you don’t influence Peter’s feelings. Most people are not comfortable with it, and Peter wouldn’t like it”.
Gamora knew that was the understatement of the year, but she didn't want to hurt Mantis' feelings. Peter would never forgive them if they let Mantis treat him with the same methods she used on Ego.
“What should we do, then?” Drax asked with uncertainty.
All the Guardians were looking at Gamora, as if she was the leader now that Peter was in no condition for it. Actually, Gamora felt as confused and unsure as the rest of the team, but she guessed they already suspected that. After thinking it over for a few moments, she sighed and said:
“Let’s give him space and pray nothing bad happens. It’s the only thing we can do for now”.
However, the world (or in this case, the universe) moved on, despite their personal problems, and they needed money desperately. They had rescued the Milano from Berhert, but the spaceship needed a lot of repairs. And, unfortunately they couldn’t stay in the Eclector because the costs of maintaining a spaceship so big were too expensive. The Guardians were caught between a rock and a hard place, so when they were offered a job they jumped at the opportunity.
The job was pretty simple. They only needed to retrieve an ancient clock. Their employer had told them it had a great sentimental value because it had been a part of his family for generations. But a few months ago, a mob boss who had an old grudge with his family (the Guardians didn’t ask about said grudge, they weren’t interested in the life of the guy) had sent his men to steal it just to annoy him. So now the clock was in the vaults of the gangster’s heavily guarded house on a planet called Bxit. OK, maybe it wasn’t that simple, but they had been through worse. And this employer was really rich and paid a lot.
The plan was as follows: Gamora, Rocket and Groot would sneak into the house using the ventilation shafts because they were the only ones who fit into them. Of course, they had to tell Rocket several times that no, he wasn't allowed to blow anything up while they were inside the shafts and no, he couldn't shoot anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. They needed to be stealthy (not precisely one of Rocket’s qualities) or they would be discovered. After that, they would find out where the vault is, and Rocket would set a small bomb on the cage to blow up the door and retrieve the clock. Meanwhile, Peter and Drax would break into the house and distracted the guards. They decided Mantis should stay in the Eclector because she had never been in a fight before and they needed someone guarding the ship. The Guardians were sure the plan was perfect, flawless. What could go wrong, right?
They landed on a clearing near the house, far enough so the guards wouldn't see the ship, but close enough in case they needed to escape quickly. Before getting out, Peter went to the weapon closet to grab his guns. He touched his right ear without even thinking about it. He knew he didn't have his mask anymore (his fa… he had destroyed it), but it was a reflex act. He missed it a little, he still remembered when Yondu had bought it in a market because he was “tired of rescuing yer puny Terran ass every time ya get into a fight”. Peter sighed, wondering if his memories would always have that bitter and painful taste. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear Gamora behind him until she put a hand on his shoulder. Peter couldn’t help but flinch at the touch, and he wished the ground would open and swallow him up. He turned around, expecting to find pity in Gamora’s eyes, but she was only looking at him with sadness, which was even worse.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m fine” he said, putting on a smile he didn't feel.
Gamora almost released a sigh, but she controlled herself. Every time she asked, he gave her the same answer, and they both pretended to believe it. She wanted to hold him and tell him he would be fine for real someday, that the pain would fade away with time. But Thanos had raised her to suppress her feelings, and that kind of conditioning was hard to ignore. She had improved in the last months, thanks to Peter precisely. He had always made her dance when she was upset, and he had hugged her when her past haunted her. Now he was the one who needed comfort. But he wouldn’t let her in.
“If you don't feel prepared for this mission…”
“I’m fine, Gamora. Really”.
A tense silence passed between them while they stared at each other until Peter couldn’t stand it anymore, and looked away.
“I’m gonna make sure everything is ready”. And he got out, leaving a frustrated Gamora alone in the room.
The house was in the middle of a forest, and a few of the guards were maintaining a perimeter around the mansion. While Gamora, Rocket and Groot ran to the mansion, Drax and Peter took the guards down and then they waited for the others to find the vault. Half an hour later, Rocket told them they had found the safe and “to get their ass right here” which they did promptly because it was never a good idea to make Rocket wait. The vault was on the last floor so Peter and Drax had to pushed their way through the guards. Luckily, the goons weren’t expecting the attack and they were pretty confused, making Drax and Peter’s missions much easier.
When they reached the last floor, Gamora was fighting a group of goons, and Groot was throwing the guards around with his vines. Drax joined the fight stabbing everyone who came near him, and Peter got close to Rocket. The raccoon was too busy attaching a bomb to the safe to fight, so Peter blasted everyone who tried to get to his friend.
“Are you sure the clock won't be damaged when the safe blows up?” he asked Rocket.
“I don't think so”.
“You don't think so?” Peter shouted over the noise of the fight. “That’s so reassuring!”.
“Well, it’s not like any of you had a better idea! And I’m very confident in my abilities”.
Peter was about to say that his abilities had destroyed the secondary engine of the Milano once, and they had been stuck on a backwater planet for a week until it was repaired, but he bit his tongue. He wasn't in the mood for arguing with his teammate, especially when they were in the middle of a job. Right then, there was a small explosion and the door of the safe opened.
“See?” Rocket said with a smug grin. “There was nothing to worry about”.
The clock reminded Peter of the pendulum clock his granddad used to have in his house, only this one was much smaller. All this trouble for this rubbish he thought, rolling his eyes. He would never understand rich people. Rocket grabbed the clock, put it in his bag, and Peter shouted at the other Guardians:
“Guys, we gotta run!”
They finished the last goons left, and took down the stairs where there were more guards waiting for them. They only had three more floors before reaching the exit, they could make it. Tomorrow they will give the damned clock to their employer, collect their units and, if they were lucky, the money would be enough to repair the Milano. At least, Peter hoped so. He didn't think he could spend more time on the Eclector. It brought too many memories of his childhood with the Ravagers.
At that moment, a shot passed near his face, and the bright light of the blast dazzled him. This had happened thousands of times in hundreds of battles, and he had never had a problem with it, besides getting a little burned on the face. But then was then, now is now. This time, the white light suddenly turned into white tentacles coming for him, and Peter felt paralyzed on the spot. God, please, not again he thought, don't let him take me. He closed his eyes, completely terrified and convinced he was going to be impaled by one of those tentacles. But nothing happened. When he opened his eyes again the tentacles had disappeared, and he was on the stairs surrounded by armed men. Peter realized everything had been a product of his mind, and he cursed himself for being so stupid. He focused on the battle again, but unfortunately, just a moment of distraction can cost dearly in a battle. Peter raised his guns up when he felt an impact on his left side that made him take a step back. He touched his stomach with one hand, and when he pulled his fingers away, they were red with blood. Shit was the only thing he could think.
The impact turned into a searing pain and Peter doubled over. He looked around, seeing he was surrounded by armed men. His team was nowhere to be seen. They probably were on the next floor, and hadn’t seen what had happened. Right then, Peter realized he wasn't going to make it, and he laughed at his own stupidity. He had fought against a planet and held an Infinity Stone, but he was going to die at the hands of these assholes who didn't even know how to shoot straight. He felt anger and rage when he thought Yondu had sacrificed himself for nothing. Peter had failed him … again.
The guards were running towards him with their weapons pointing at him, about to shoot him. Peter looked right and left, and found an exit… more or less. There was a window right next to him. He was on the third floor so the fall would kill him anyway. But if he was going to die, he was going to do it on his own terms. Without giving himself any time to think about what he was about to do, he ran towards the window and jumped. For a moment, he felt like he was flying, but then he plummeted to the ground. Peter felt the air caressing his face, and closed his eyes. At least I’ll see mom and Yondu again , he thought, before his body hit the earth and everything faded to black.
The first thing Peter noticed when he woke up was how bright the sky was. The sunlight hit him on the eyes and it definitely didn't help the massive headache he had. He could hear shouts and explosions in the distance. Was he in a fight? And what had happened? Then he remembered everything: the mansion, the guards, the window… He didn't understand how he was alive. He knew he should be relieved, but he was surprised by the disappointment he felt. And wasn't that the ultimate proof of how fucked up he was?
Peter heard more shots being fired. He guessed his friends were still in the building which meant he hadn't remained unconscious for very long. I have to help them! He thought desperately. He tried to sit up, but he barely raised his head when he felt a wave of agony on his stomach, and he had to lie down again. Breathlessly, he looked down and saw he was lying on a pool of his own blood flowing from his left side like the fucking Victoria Falls. Well, this ain’t good Peter thought. He put his shaking hand on his stomach to try to stop the flow, but the pain was unbearable. His voice released a sound between a scream and sob he almost didn’t recognize as his own, and he dropped his hand to the floor.
He decided to assess his injuries since it seemed he wasn't going to be moving any time soon. He was having trouble breathing, and he was pretty sure he had a couple of broken ribs. Luckily, thanks to the agony of his stomach, he barely felt the pain in the ribs. After that, he tried to move his legs, afraid for a moment he had broken his spine, but he could feel both of them. First, he moved the left leg. OK. Everything is alright he thought. Then, he tried the right leg, and it felt like a buck of liquid fire had been poured over it. He breathed hard, trying to contain a scream.
He would have laughed at the situation if it hadn’t hurt his ribs. Instead of having a quick death, shot by those stupid guards, he was going to bleed out in the middle of nowhere. And the worst thing, alone. For some strange reason, he had always thought his friends were going to be with him when he died. He could already feel how his strength was leaving him and his vision was getting blurred. Who knows? Maybe this is what I deserve , he thought closing his eyes.
“Ya’re such an idiot!”
Peter opened his eyes quickly. He would recognize that voice anywhere, but it couldn't be possible. He looked to his right trying not to move any other part of his body except his head. And there he was. Sitting on a rock like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he hadn’t died a couple of months ago.
“Yondu?” Peter whispered without believing his eyes.
“Hiya, boy” he said, showing him a savage grin.
“You’re dead” was the only thing Peter managed to say.
“No shit. I hadn't realized that”. The Centaurian replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry” Peter said, looking away. He was sure Yondu was looking at him with resentment, and he couldn’t bear that.
But Yondu’s reaction, as always, wasn't what Peter expected.
“What’re ya apologizing for?” he shouted.
“It was my fault you died. You had to sacrifice yourself because I was weak”.
“Are ya fuckin’ with me?” he said, standing up and putting his arms on his hips (the position he always had when he lectured him as a kid, Peter noticed). “Ya saved yer team from yer dick of a father!”
“I couldn't save you” Peter could feel tears in his eyes.
“That was my decision, boy, not yours. ‘Sides, no father should bury his own son”.
Peter smiled at those words “I was so stupid I didn't see what I had in front of me all the time”.
Yondu crouched down beside him with a sigh. And it seemed unbelievable, but Peter could actually feel him. He smelled of booze and sweat. Peter wanted to reach and touch him so badly, but his arms weren’t answering. Some part of his mind told him that was a really bad sign, but he didn't care. He would endure a thousand times the pain he was feeling just to see Yondu.
“I ain't a good paternal figure either, Peter. I never had kids, didn't know how to raise one. I tried to do the best I could, but the crew would think I was going soft if I showed ya privileges” Yondu scoffed then and added. “Fat lotta good it did me. I wish I coulda made things different with ya, Peter”.
“I could've been a little easier too”.
Yondu laughed (and God, Peter had missed that laugh so much) “Aye, that's true. Ya were about to give me a heart attack a couple times”.
“I miss you” Peter said so quiet it was almost inaudible.
Yondu grinned “I’ll always be with ya, making sure ya don't do something stupid like jumping from a window for example”.
Almost like a reflex act, Peter tried to defend his actions like he had done so many times in the Eclector when he was younger and more reckless. “I didn't have much of a choice”.
“Oh, ya didn't? Do me a favor. Stop being an asshole and talk to yer friends. I didn't raise ya to mop around feeling sorry for yerself. Ain’t the Ravager way”.
“I can't”.
“Why? Because ya don't want to burden them? That's bullshit, it's what it is. How many times have ya saved their ass? Now it’s time for them to save yours. Ain’t nothing wrong with that”.
Peter looked at Yondu’s red eyes. Maybe he was right. If his paternal figure had felt the need to come back from the dead (or whatever this was, Peter was too confused to think about it) to tell him that, maybe he should listen to him.
“Ok, I’ll do it”.
Yondu nodded, satisfied with his answer. At that moment, Peter heard footsteps and people shouting his name. He recognized the voices of his teammates.
“I gotta go now, but I’m proud of ya, Peter. Ya always remember that”.
“No, wait. Don't leave, Yondu. Please” Peter begged desperately. He needed more time, he needed to tell him…
“I love you, dad”.
Yondu put his hand on Peter’s forehead, and he brushed some curls away from his face.
“I love you too, son”.
Yondu stood up, and showed him that savage grin one last time. Peter blinked, and suddenly Yondu was gone. The void in his heart threatened to swallow him. He felt the tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He just wanted the pain to stop. He wanted things to go back to the way they were before he ever stepped a foot on that damned planet controlled by him .
“Peter!” He suddenly saw Gamora leaning down on him. Her eyes showed worry and fear, and Peter felt guilty for being the cause of her unhappiness.
“It’s not as bad as it looks” he tried to reassure her.
“Really? Coz’ it looks pretty fucking bad Shit-Lord” Rocket’s voice sounded behind him.
Anyone who didn’t know Rocket would think those words were really insensitive in that situation. But Peter knew anger was how Rocket expressed most of his emotions, included fear.
“I’ve been through worse. It’s not that…” whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by a sharp pain in his stomach that made him scream until he ran out of breath.
He looked down. Gamora’s large hands were pressing down on his wound. With an apologetic face she said:
“You're losing too much blood. I needed to stop the hemorrhage”.
Still panting, Peter managed to reply “It’s okay, but give me a little warning the next time”.
Gamora nodded, and then turned to Drax who was on the other side watching the scene with a deep frown. “Help me move him”.
Peter braced himself for the pain, but nothing could have prepared him for the agony that engulfed his entire body when Drax lifted him up. His stomach on fire, and he felt like he was drowning because he couldn't breathe at all. He coughed, and saw red flecks leave his mouth. He could hear Gamora saying something, but it was too distant. The edges of his vision turned black, and it wasn't long before the darkness surrounded him, and he welcomed it with relief.
Beep… beep… beep… Peter wondered what that annoying sound that disrupted his sleep was. Whatever it is, I swear I’m gonna shoot it he thought. He opened his eyes slowly. He felt sluggish, like his entire body was underwater. The first thing he saw was the white ceiling. He looked around and realized he was in a hospital room, and the annoying beeping was the heart monitor. Peter groaned, he hated hospitals. He always tried to avoid them at all costs. What had he done this time to end up in one?
“Of course you had to wake up just when I leave five minutes to get food”.
Gamora was on the doorway. Her tone tried to express annoyance, but the slight smile on her face betrayed her.
“I’m sorry” Peter answered, “next time I’ll try to wake up at a more convenient time”.
The amused expression suddenly vanished, and Gamora sat on a chair beside his bed with a sigh.
“You gave us quite a scare, Peter”.
Peter didn't ask more, but he was pretty sure from Gamora’s words that it had been pretty bad.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You don't remember? The mansion…”
Oh, right. Now he remembered. He had been shot and then he jumped from a window to save himself (not his most brilliant idea, to be honest). And then… Yondu. Peter saw him and talked to him. How was that even possible? Had it all been a product of his blood-deprived mind? But he had felt so real. Gamora’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
“Are you OK, Peter? You zoned out a bit”.
Peter looked at her. For a moment, he thought about giving the standard answer of “I’m fine”, and see the usual disappointment in those black eyes. But he remembered what Yondu had told him “talk to your friends”. And really, he just didn’t have enough strength to keep lying.
“I talked to Yondu”.
“What?” Gamora said, obviously confused.
“I… I know how it sounds. But after the fall, I was lying there, convinced I was going to die in the middle of nowhere, and I saw him” his eyes started to get a little blurred. “And I… I talked to him. I know it’s not possible, but it felt so good”.
Peter looked away. He didn't want to see Gamora’s pity, she must think he had definitely lost it, and she was probably right. But then, he felt her hand over his. He turned his head slowly, and looked at her. Gamora was staring at him with tears in her eyes. It was the first time Peter saw her getting so emotional, he couldn't believe he had elicited that reaction from her.
“Nothing is impossible Peter. I thought you would already know that after everything we’ve seen. Just tell me one thing: did you tell him all you needed to say?”
“Yes. Yes, I did”.
Gamora smiled. “Then, that's all that matters”.
She leaned down, and kissed Peter on the cheek. If he weren’t having so much trouble keeping his eyes open, he would have asked her to pinch him just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“Now, rest” Gamora said. “We’ll be here when you wake up”.
He was in a hospital room, his grandfather was behind him, a hand on his shoulder to support him (or maybe to keep him there). In front of him, his mom, or what was left of her, was looking at him with loving eyes. Her hand was trying to reach for him.
“Take my hand, Peter”.
And oh, god he was so scared because she didn't look like her mom anymore and he didn't understand why. Why couldn't she just get better? Why couldn't they listen to the songs of the Walkman she gave him for his birthday?
“Peter, take my hand”.
He was rooted to the spot, too afraid to move. Suddenly, on the other side of her mom’s bed a man appeared. He was dressed like David Hasselhoff in The Fantastic Car, and he was grinning. But his blue eyes were sinister and full of darkness. Peter didn't trust those eyes. The man raised his arm towards Peter and, in a voice that was meant to be reassuring but it came out harsh instead, he said:
“Come with me, son. We’ll rule together”.
Rule? He didn't want to rule. He just wanted that man away from his mom.
“No”.
The man’s grin disappeared and was replaced by a grimace.
“That's a real shame Peter. I suppose I’ll just have to kill her then. You're too attached to her, it's no good for you”.
Suddenly, a tentacle made of bright light appeared on the man’s hand, and it dived straight to her mom. Peter ran towards her screaming, but he knew he was already too late, and she's gonna die because of me…
“Peter, wake up!”
Peter sat bolt upright in his bed, his eyes wide. He knew someone was calling him, but all he could see was her mom being impaled by one of those tentacles.
“No, please, no” he muttered, panicked.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his cheek. A slap. He looked around, and realized he was in a hospital room. It was just a dream he thought, relieved. He looked to the right, and saw Rocket with his hand still raised.
“I can hit you again, if you need it”.
“That's a kind offer, but I think once is enough” Peter noticed his voice felt raw, like he had been screaming.
Rocket seemed to have read his mind because right then he grabbed a glass of water and handed it to him. Peter thought must have been more thirsty than he imagined because he finished the entire glass in a few gulps.
“Thanks” Peter said to Rocket, giving him the glass back, and laying back down because sudden movements such as sitting up abruptly were not good for broken ribs, and now he was feeling the consequences. He turned his head away from Rocket because he was really embarrassed. He had suffered these kinds of nightmares before, but he had always been alone in his room.
“I am Groot?”
Peter looked down. Groot was standing on his pillow. He didn't need to understand the words to know the small tree was distressed because of his freakout. Great Peter thought, feeling guilty. The last thing he wanted was to worry Groot. He was the most innocent member of the team, almost like a little child. Peter didn't want that innocence destroyed so soon.
“I don't think so” Rocket said to the tree. Then, he turned to Peter. “Groot wanna know if you're okay”.
Peter was about to open his mouth when Rocket cut him off:
“And don't you dare give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit because you’ve always been a shitty liar”.
Rocket threw him one of his murderous looks and Peter decided it was better not to contradict him. Then, with a completely different tone of voice, Rocket asked him.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Peter shook his head. The nightmare was silly, and Rocket would think he was a little kid if he told him. Suddenly, the raccoon sat on the edge of the bed.
“You know? When I got out of the place I was experimented on, Halfworld, I had a lot of nightmares. Most nights I didn't sleep because I was afraid of them. I never told anyone, not even Groot here, because who the fuck has something as stupid as nightmares, right?”
Peter just stared at him, his mouth hanging open. Rocket was a very private person with his past, and he had barely mentioned his time in Halfworld since they met. The other Guardians had understood it was a painful issue for him so they hadn't pried either. He knew how much effort Rocket had made telling him that. If Rocket had opened up to him, Peter decided he couldn't be a coward and he should do the same. He owed him that, at least.
“I was in the hospital room where my mom died. She was in her bed, asking me to take her hand. And then, Ego appeared and he…” he had to make a pause, and take a deep breath (as deep as his ribs allowed him to, at least) “he killed her, and I couldn't do anything to stop him”.
“It was just a dream” Rocket said, shrugging. “Your mother’s death sucked, but that bastard didn't have anything to do with it”.
Peter released a sigh, and looked down. His hands were trembling so he hid them beneath the sheets. The next words he said were so quiet that Rocket almost didn't hear them, despite his enhanced senses.
“He killed her”.
“What do you mean?” Rocket asked.
“He told me he killed her. He put the tumor in her brain”.
And just like that, months later after everything had happened, Peter broke down. All the pain and suffering caught up with him, and broke through the numbness he had felt until that moment. All the tears he hadn't been able to shed were running down his cheeks without any control.
Rocket balled his hands into fists because right then he wanted to shoot something. But that was the last thing Peter needed. He’d like to resurrect Ego just to kill him again, slowly and painfully. That bastard got off too easily. He wished he could take Peter’s pain away because it was so unfair he had to go through this. All the Guardians had gone through terrible things and when they had met they had been so fucked up that they had been unable to work together. And Peter helped them all. Peter with his good heart and his annoying music. Sure, things had been hard for him too. He had lost his mom when he was a kid and then he had been kidnapped by Ravagers, but that didn't take away his optimism, his happiness. Thanks to him, the Guardians had become a family, and they had learned to trust each other.
So how dare Ego do this to his own son? How dare he break him? But there was something that asshole didn't realize. The Guardians had to suffer alone all the traumatic events they had they had been through: Drax and his family, Gamora and her childhood, Rocket and Halfworld... But things were different for Peter because he had them. He wasn’t alone, and Rocket vowed to himself that every single Guardian would help him recover from this. Ego wouldn't win, the Guardians wouldn't let him destroy Peter.
Rocket wasn't good at expressing feelings, to put it mildly. He had never comforted anyone except Groot, and Groot was basically like a child so he didn't really count. But his friend was hurting and, come on, he couldn't make things worse, right? Rocket took a deep breath, climbed onto the bed and laid down next to Peter.
“I didn’t know, Peter. I’m sorry”.
“He destroyed my life” the Terran said, his voice choked up. “Why did he have to kill her? Maybe if I hadn't been born, she…”
Rocket decided to cut him off because that was a very dangerous way of thinking
“Hey, don’t go there, ok? For all we know, your mom’s illness would’ve happened anyway. Probably it was a consequence of the contact with a species much more powerful than her own. Your birth wouldn't have changed anything”.
Peter stayed silent, not sure whether to believe Rocket or not. Even if his mom had died, he was sure Yondu would be alive if he hadn’t ever picked him up. Sometimes he thought the only thing he had managed to do with his life was getting the people he loved killed.
His thoughts were interrupted by a warm feeling on his side. He looked down and saw that Rocket had gotten closer and the warm feeling was the fur on his chest. Surprisingly, it felt… good. Comforting.
“I have no idea what you must be feeling right now” Rocket said. “But I just… I just want you to know that you have us. I know that's not pretty comforting because we're a fucking disaster, but… well. You don't have to go through this shit alone. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do” Peter said, blinking away the tears.
“Good" Rocket answered, and then he remained silent because there was nothing else to say.
Peter took comfort in the warm feeling of Rocket’s body next to him, of having someone who understood what it was like to wake up terrified by your own nightmares, and most importantly, someone who had defeated them. As silly as it might sound, Rocket gave him hope. If he had overcome all the obstacles, maybe Peter could get through this too.
Peter realized his eyes were drooping, and he was bone tired. He was about to fall asleep, but for a moment, he stopped feeling Rocket at his side and he opened his eyes suddenly, afraid of being alone with his memories.
Rocket was on the edge of the bed, rummaging through his bag. When he saw Peter looking at him with wide eyes, he rolled his eyes and said:
“I’m not going anywhere, idiot. Do you think I wanna walk back to the Eclector at these hours? I was just looking for this”.
He raised up his hand holding the Zune. When Peter saw it, he sighed with relief. He had feared it had been broken when he fell from the window. Rocket laid down beside him and Peter relaxed when he felt the warm feeling again. He put one of his earbuds in, and he offered the other one to Rocket.
“Fine” he said the raccoon putting the free earbud in. “But don't choose a sappy song”.
“Don't worry, I think you’ll like this one”.
Peter scrolled through the songs, and picked up “Under Cover of the Darkness” by a band called The Strokes.
“See?”
“It’s ok” Rocket shrugged, trying not to let on how much he really liked the song. The Zune was a gold mine, not that he was ever going to tell Peter that.
Peter gave his friend a slight smile realizing he didn't even have to force it. The rhythm of the guitar was calming, and he closed his eyes. He fell asleep before the song even finished and, for the first time in months, the nightmares stayed away from his sleep.
Peter had to stay in the hospital one more week, but it passed quickly. He was never alone in the room. Gamora stayed with him for hours in a comfortable silence. Sometimes she would take his hand, and Peter would think that maybe someday they could talk about their unspoken thing. Rocket would come with Groot and he would tell him stories about their days as bounty hunters supported by Groot nodding vigorously at some parts and frowning at others which made Peter suspect Rocket was exaggerating a little. He didn’t care though. Rocket’s stories were always funny and they helped him not to think about things.
Drax would smuggle him food because, no matter the world you are in, hospital food is always horrible especially comparing it to the food Drax made. The warrior had amazing cooking skills. Peter’s favorite plate was a kind of bread with a special sauce. It reminded him of his mom’s pancakes.
Even Mantis came to visit him, but always with another Guardian, usually Drax. Mantis had always tried to avoid him in the Eclector, and they had never stayed alone in the same room. Peter had to admit he hadn’t put a lot of effort in making her feel comfortable around him either, even though he could see the guilt every time he looked her in the eyes. He knew how corrosive guilt can be, and Mantis was just starting to live. He didn’t want her to be burdened by that feeling, but he had never found the strength to really talk to her. Until now. He knew the conversation, as hard as it was going to be, couldn’t wait any longer. So the next time she came to his room, Peter asked Drax:
“Could you leave us alone for a moment?”
“Ok” Drax said, ignoring the panicked look Mantis sent him. The warrior stood up, and walked to the door. Before getting out of the room though, he sent Peter a warning look. Peter knew exactly what he meant: “don’t hurt her”. The Terran nodded in understanding. Drax closed the door and they were left alone. Mantis must have found something really interesting on the floor because she was staring at it with passion. Peter almost smiled at her childish behavior.
“Why are you so afraid of me, Mantis?” Peter asked.
“You are going to kick me out right?” she asked. The conviction in her voice baffled him. He had no idea how she had come to that conclusion.
“Kick you out?” he repeated indignantly. “Why would you think that?”
“Be..because and I let Ego hurt you”.
Peter sighed. Now it made sense.
“Mantis, I’m not going to kick you out, and I’m not angry at you for your relation with Ego. I would never blame you, you were a victim too”.
“But...but I let him hurt you and all those children!”
“He was a god, there was nothing you could've done. If you had faced him, he would’ve killed you. Just like all the others”.
Mantis raised her head, and looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“I didn't see him as a monster at first, you know? I believed his excuses. He had always been good to me, he gave me a home, why would he lie to me?”
“When…” Peter tried to ignore the lump in his throat. “When was the first time you met a kid?”
“When I was only a kid myself. I was so happy... I had been alone during most of my childhood. Well, with Ego, but he was different. For the first time I was with another child, I could have a friend” Mantis had a wistful smile, and a lost look on her face, remembering those happy times. “She was a Skrull, her name was Th’all. Her entire family had been killed during a rebellion, so she was pretty happy when she found out she had a dad who owned a giant planet. Everything was great at first, she told me stories about her world, we played hide-and-seek in the woods, but then…” Mantis’ smile vanished. “Ego started her training, and every time I saw her she was more and more tired. Soon after, she didn't have enough strength to play anymore. And one day she started screaming, saying she wanted to go home. I had just started to develop my empathic abilities and Ego ordered me to calm her down. He took her, and I never saw her again. I asked Ego, and he told me he had returned her to her planet”.
There was silence afterwards while Peter digested the information. He knew what Ego had done to other children, but he always avoided to think about them . About their families, where they came from, what they felt before their own father killed them… it was too painful. But Mantis had known every single one of them, and she had to see them die. Peter realized at that moment how strong Mantis really was, and how much she had endured. Then, he took a deep breath. Since Mantis helped him, there was always a question he had wanted to ask her, and he knew there wasn’t going to be a better moment.
“Why did you decide to save me? Why me of all people?”
Mantis blinked away her tears before answering.
“I couldn't take it anymore. When I grew up, I realized what really happened to the children. I even confronted Ego about it, and he told me he was really sorry but it wasn't his fault if they couldn't control the light. He had created them for that purpose, their lives didn’t make sense otherwise. Right then, I saw what a monster he was, but I didn't know what I could do. There were more children. I always tried not to make contact with them until Ego forced me to. But you were different, Peter. You weren't a child, and you could control the light. I thought this was the best opportunity to defeat Ego, but I was too afraid at first”.
“And what made you stop being afraid?”
“Your friends. That was the main difference between the other children and you. You weren't alone. You had friends who were willing to risk their lives for you. I had never known a friendship like the one you have, but I realized that bond was strong enough to change things”.
Peter grabbed Mantis’ hand. The alien looked at him with a surprised expression.
“You know you are a part of this now, right? You’re a Guardian of the Galaxy, don't forget that”.
Mantis gave him a bright smile, and nodded. Peter couldn't help but return the smile. He was glad he could give Mantis the chance to start a new life, and erase the damage Ego had done to her. It felt like the best victory he could have.
The doctors wanted him to stay half a month, but thanks to Gamora’s persuasive arguments, which included showing them her very large sword, they decided to release him sooner on the condition the Guardians would take care of him. After changing into the clothes Gamora had brought him (thank the stars because he was so tired of the hospital gowns), they got into a land vehicle to get to the Eclector.
“Peter, I need you to do something for me” Gamora suddenly said. “Close your eyes”.
“What?” Peter asked, without understanding the strange request. “Why?”
“Just trust me, ok?”
Peter didn’t need to hear anything else, and he closed his eyes. The land vehicle stopped, and Gamora took her hand (he was completely calm and, no, of course his heart wasn’t beating faster) to help him out of it.
“You are not looking, are you?” Gamora asked.
“With you at my side? I wouldn’t dare” Peter replied, amused by the situation.
Gamora grunted, which Peter interpreted as satisfaction by his answer, and guided him towards their destination. After a few more minutes she said:
“Fine. Now you can open them”.
Peter did as he was told.
“Surprise!”
The Terran couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The entire team was in front of the doors of the Milano. The Milano! It was as good as new, just like the day Yondu had given it to him for his 15th birthday. The memory filled him with nostalgia, but not sadness.
“What? Kit got your tongue?” Rocket asked.
Peter burst out laughing. For the first time in he didn’t know how long, he genuinely laughed and it felt so good.
“It’s cat got your tongue, not kit. And yeah… I don’t even know what to say. How…?
“While you were unconscious at the hospital, Drax and I handed the clock over to our employer” Gamora replied. “And we also explained to him we were upset about how he hid certain dangerous risks of the mission”.
“I still think we should’ve taken his hands at least” Drax added.
“No, Drax, we couldn’t do that” Gamora said wearily, and Peter guessed they had this argument many times. Then, she turned to Peter and added. “After that, we sold the Eclector and thanks to that and the units from the clock job, we could repair the Milano”.
Gamora didn’t tell him how worried they had been about the Milano not being ready before Peter got out of the hospital. They all wanted to give them this nice surprise, but luckily everything had turned out well (after threatening the mechanics a bit, but Peter didn’t need to know that either).
“So, do you like it?” Mantis asked Peter.
“Like it? I love it, guys. Thank you so much”.
Then, they all climbed the stairs and went to the cockpit. ‘Hooked to a Feeling’ was echoing through the ship… wait, ‘Hooked to a Feeling’? Peter suddenly stopped, and looked around.
“Ha! I told ya he’d take one minute to realize it” Rocket said, triumphantly. “I win, pay me”.
Reluctantly, all the Guardians rummaged through their pockets and put the coins on Rocket’s outstretched hand. Meanwhile, Peter was at a loss for words, and only managed to choke out.
“But...how...what?”
“I don’t know what Terran technology is made of” Rocket said, “but it seems it’s fucking indestructible. When we found the ship, the cassette deck was intact”.
“And the awesome mix vol. 1 was inside”. Gamora explained.
“So there, it seems we’re never getting rid of your fucking music, Quill” Rocket tried to look annoyed, but the slight smile on his face betrayed him.
Peter looked at his team. His awesome team. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve them, but he felt the luckiest guy in the universe for having them. He wasn’t ok, not yet, and he wouldn’t be for a long while. But now he knew wasn’t alone. He had a family formed by misfits and weirdos just like him, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. Now he knew that, as long as he had them, nothing could break him down.