far and away | quill

twelve

Eerie.

They trudged through the thick underbrush. She and Stephen were the only ones talking. Gamora and Peter were silent; she was mad, no doubt. And it was a one way, muffled conversation as Rocket talked at/to Groot.

"So, why me for the Stone?" he'd asked finally.

She looked at him. They were the leaders of the little expedition, and yards in front of everyone else.

"You're a neurosurgeon," she stated nonchalantly.

"Used to be," he corrected sadly. She looked up at him, and then his shaking hands.

"You're brilliant nonetheless. You're the smartest and most reasonable person I know, and the only person I trust more than myself."

He smiled sadly.

"You're the only one that can fix it, or at least help us to fix it," her voice was low. She didn't want to worry the crew.

His thoughts clouded her head and her temple throbbed. He was so doubtful even after all this time; doubtful about exactness.

"It'll be okay," she stated, watching the approaching cave. "It always is." She smiled up at him and he nodded with newfound confidence.

They reached the clearing and she stopped, facing the group.

"I'm going to open the doors," she stated, "You will stand back, I'll go in alone and close the doors behind me. I'll retrieve the reminisce of the Reality Stone and when you hear my knocks, open the door with this code."

She gave Peter a scrap of paper, it had a code of dots and dashes. "Morse Code for 'Beware of Reality,'" she stated.

"But don't open that door until you hear the knocks or a silence in the hounds. If they're quiet, they've gotten me," she stated shakily. "Do not open those doors until you hear my knock or their silence." She repeated.

"Wait," Stephen apposed, "How in hell do you expect us to not try to help you if those hounds get you?"

"You don't understand what those hounds are, do you?"

"How could we?" Gamora asked stiffly.

"They're mutants. Thanos's men created them in test tubes, caused them to hate humans and to want to kill them at all costs," she paused, "but they aren't really animals. They're animatronics. They don't have instinct, just wiring and flesh. They'll still kill you if they get the chance. They wake when someone opens that door. I'm going in, let me. If you hear barking, let it happen. And only when it stops, you can come in; but be careful they'll wake up again."

"Animatronic mutants," Gamora huffed. "You're all insane," her hands were restrained as she clenched them.

"Well maybe we're all a little insane," Quinn said before opening the door and slipping inside.

She stayed quiet, knowing they were searching for her already. She traced her steps from that fateful night until she found the red bits. They were splattered on the floor right outside the keeping room.

She went to work, picking up the six or seven shards off the slick temple floor when she heard a growl.

It was deep and snarled, it bounced off the torch-lit walls. She tried to search for the mutants' thoughts but could only find one instinct buried in the distant gears: kill.

She finished getting the shards in her cloak pocket and stood. A lone mutant stood, blocking the door out.

Her hands were bleeding from the ridged edges and her heart pounded in her ears. For the first time, she saw the being.