far and away | quill

eight

Click.

She entered the main corridor once more, replacing the communicator on its deck. The raccoon and tree sat at the table, and Peter in the cockpit.

"Is there a fridge or something with food?"

"Yeah, right there," Rocket pointed to a wood panel in the wall. She pulled the black handle, and the door opened to reveal a very small mini fridge.

"There's pizza and milk," she stated, "Is that all you guys eat?"

"We usually eat on the individual planets," Peter said, putting the ship into autopilot and joining them.

"That's insane. What if you got stranded?" she asked them, he was standing a few paces away from her. She took out the grease-stained pizza box and milk carton. She opened the top and smelled.

"God, that's foul," she plugged her nose and closed the carton, placing it in a trash shoot for when they landed. "How old's the pizza?"

"Couple days," Rocket shrugged.

"Days?"

"Well yeah. We got it when we got you out of Superior, stole it from a guard," Rocket chuckled, "It was hilarious."

"When we get to there, I'm raiding Stephen's cellar," she thought out loud.

"Hey, now the help has a name," Peter smiled widely, "Stephen... hm..."

"'Hm' what, Quill?" She approached him, he put his hands up innocently.

"Just thinking out loud," he gave her a suggestive look. He smiled light-heartedly as he sat in the booth.

His thoughts were seizing her own; making her chest tight and her stomach queasy. He was thinking affectionate thoughts. He hadn't even realized she'd read them.

"You okay?" Rocket asked her, snapping her back into reality.

"Yeah," she looked around, "Just anxious."

And Groot looked at her, his mouth was straight but his thoughts urged her to say something about Drax. To ease them...

She felt sick enough already. But she told him she couldn't, not yet. It would just make them want to go after Drax and avoid the bigger mission, besides, Drax can protect himself. The galaxy cannot.

He nodded; they were able to share telepathic waves.

"ETA?" she questioned Peter, he walked towards the cockpit and looked at where they were.

"Five hours, why don't you guys get some sleep? Saving the galaxy will get pretty tiring," he was playing hide and go seek behind his comical facade again.

Groot stood, and crouched to fit into the room. He picked Rocket up without consent, but the animal subsided when the tree began petting his back silently, and took him to his bunk. He laid Rocket under sheets and turned off the overhead light, before crawling into his own bunk.

She joined Peter in the cockpit, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, "You okay?"

"Peachy."

"Liar," she watched his face for tells, but he was getting good, "I'm sure you'll cross paths with Gamora again if that's it-"

"It's not," he was being honest, "I'm worried about the crew. We've done stuff like this before, with the stones, but nothing with this much weight. We're being pushed, and I don't like being pushed."

"Who does?"

"Hell if I knew. This crew's my family, they're all I've got, I can't have another one of their deaths on my conscience."

"It's not like that," she stuttered, "I mean if they die to save someone it's not in vain."

"But we broke the stone, we are going to ruin the universe unless we save it, we are going to kill millions..."

"We didn't do anything, I did," she said it weakly, "The weirdest thing is that it doesn't feel like it's all that bad. I don't know, I know it's wrong and it's horrible. But deep down, it doesn't feel like it."

He looked at her and she looked at her hands.

"Well you're a mercenary, it's second nature."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she looked at him with a sad smile, a facade of course. He saw right through it.

"No. If you start doing good, if you leave murder behind, you'll start to feel the difference again," he said, shifting his hands on the controls.

"I don't know if I can. I was brought up this way, it's hard to tell where it ends and where I began. If there even is a separation."

"There is; there's always a difference between the parasite and the host," he looked at the wheel again, nervously. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, a void almost.

"I suppose so," she stood. She paused before leaving. "Why don't you start believing your own advice? Do yourself some good..."

And she went to the couch, and sprawled out.

She turned the News on and fell asleep.