far and away | quill

four

Awake.

She noticed there wasn't the buzzing sound of the electric encasement.

She stood, there were no guards. She looked up at the security cameras, knocked off their cradles.

Then the buzz of the over-head speaker:

"Run," it was the raccoon.

She obeyed, she ran out the door and down the hall. Other criminals yelled and cursed her for not opening their cell doors. Their thoughts were fouler yet.

She ran to the front desk, all the guards were gone. Dead, maybe.

She grabbed arms full of her things from behind the counter, and ran again. She was barefoot and each step sent shooting pain to her leg's bullet hole.

She reached the doors to find the familiar ship, the ramp was down and the grey man with red tattoos stood on it. Waiting.

"Take your time!" He called sarcastically. She ran and climbed aboard. The raccoon followed quickly, with the tree on his tail (almost literally).

When they were all aboard, the bottom closed up and the plane took off.

"Why'd you take me back?" She questioned quickly, looking between them.

"I told them you know where the Ruby is," Rocket spoke up, looking up at her.

"I didn't tell you I know where it is."

"You do though, don't you?" Rocket asked, almost hopelessly.

"Yes, but I won't take you there."

"I can kill your friend, you know? I have guys there that can pull his plug, extinguish his fire, slit his throat," Rocket pushed her limits. She crouched down to his level.

"Fine. I'll take you there. Take us to Eerie," she commanded Peter without breaking eye contact with the animal. The raccoon smiled.

She went to the back and changed quickly into her usual clothes.

She entered the main corridor and draped her cloak over the coach. She went to the table and laid out her weapons.

Rocket sat in the booth, intrigued. Drax and Peter stood, mesmerized by her speech and abilities.

"Machine gun, your usual American mafia choice gun," she held it up, showing the weight. She put it to her hip, posing with it, "It's great, it can fire fifty rounds in a minute. But it's a bit heavier than electrics or laser guns, because it's all metal. The bullets are metal, it's a classy gun so it's built like it."

"I've seen one of those before," Rocket said, reaching a paw out to touch it. She pulled it away.

"Mine," she stated, setting it down next to the rounds of bullets.

"Daggers," she laid them out based on length and weight, "The heavier, the better." They knew about knives so she didn't drone on.

"Potions. I got them from a little old witch. She said they were toxic, can kill in a matter of thirty seconds. But she gave me another than can bring someone back to life, like Lucy in Narnia," she chuckled at her joke.

"Narnia?" Rocket questioned, confused and disgusted by the whimsical name.

"The movie with the kids that go into the wardrobe and go on the adventure. With the witch and the lion..." She trailed off and stopped herself, "We'll watch it sometime."

They looked at her, confused by her humanity.

"Where'd you get your clothes?" Drax asked, "They're very drab."

"Earth. I lived there for twenty two years of my life. I was offered a chance to travel to space and I took it. I've been here ever since."

"How long has it been since you've lived on Earth?" Peter asked. She walked slowly to the cockpit.

"Seven years this month," she said, watching as meteors passed by slowly. She sat in the co-pilot's chair. "What about you?"

"Twenty years," he paused, noticing that she looked at him and her brow furrowed, "I was taken when I was about eight, nine."

"Taken?"

"Abducted, but they adopted me in a way. It was better honestly," she listened to his inner conversation. She'd figured out his mother died of cancer, and kept her mouth shut.

"Oh, sort of like you abducted me?" She lightened the mood, he laughed. He was beginning to grow on her. His thoughts began to cloud her mind again.

He was worried about Gamora, and finding the Sapphire, and being in trouble for taking Quinn out of the Corps' custody.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?" He asked, watching the purples and blue of the galaxy reflect on her face.

"Who's Gamora?" His stomach twisted, like he'd downed a poison. And being that she was still listening to his thoughts, she was beginning to feel his pain as well.

She felt his pain, she felt weak, her world spinning and dipping.

She was feeling his feelings, her's, Gamora's. She was hearing his thoughts, her's...

and Gamora's.

He didn't have a chance to answer: she fell unconscious.