far and away | quill

eighteen

Clutter.

There were stacks upon stacks of boxes that lay as obstacles in the way into the Collector's collection. Quinn carefully worked her way through the maze of broken terrariums, the occasional plant, and piles of books.

She paused in the main open space. A man sat on a stool, sadly watching the floor as if it would cave in any minute. Everyone caught up, looking around before resting their eyes on the whimsical man.

"Quinn," he spoke softly and looked up to her.

"Collector. I'm here for that favor you owe me," she crossed her arms. They alien stood and looked around.

"Peter, Drax... The great Doctor Strange. I've read about you. A beautiful Stone you've got there," he extended a hand towards the Time Stone and Stephen's gloved hand covered it protectively. "Any chance I can buy it from you?"

"Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged."

"Collector," she interrupted the two. They both turned to look at her. The Collector smiled.

"Yes, that favor. What do I owe you for again?"

"That one, particularly nosy servant just vanished one day. Odd, huh?" she cocked a brow. He smiled again.

"Very odd, indeed. What do you need, my girl?"

"Can you fix an Infinity Stone?"

"You broke an Infinity Stone?" He approached her. He uttered a sharp, single 'hah.'

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I did. Can you fix it?"

"Which one is it?"

"The Aether, the red one. Reality."

"The Aether? I thought the Asgardians had it."

"They did. Allegedly, Thor brought it back to the temple and due to the fact it had no population to thrive on, it solidified."

"Curious," he mumbled. "Let me see it."

She looked to Rocket.

"I'm not giving this nutcase-"

"Rocket, please," Peter spoke from her right. She glanced at him and back to the raccoon. He sighed loudly and gave the Collector the smooth shards.

The Collector examined them.

"Come," he made his way through his maze of things. She followed, they came after her.

"Your sure about this?" Peter whispered behind her.

"He's the wisest person I know," she replied and walked beside Peter.

"What about me?" He inquired lightly.

"That's up for debate," she teased. "Are you still mad at me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Whether this works or not," they reached the Collector's work desk. He had sat down and pulled lenses attached to mechanical arms around, examining the shards in greater depth.

"The Stone will never work without its person."

"Its person?" she questioned his distracted mumble. The Collector looked up to her, across everything.

"Stephen is the Time Stone's person. Vision is the Mind Stone's. Loki is the Space Stone's... You get it?" she nodded.

"But who's the Reality Stone's?"

The Collector watched the Stone and moved all the lens' arms away and looked back to the crew.

"Quinn, you're telepathic. You tell me, who's the Reality Stone's person?"

"It's a stone, it doesn't have thoughts."

"It's an Infinity Stone," he stated.

"I think you're off your rocker, Collector-"

"Read it!" He yelled. All eyes landed on her. She closed her's. She focused. She pushed away Peter's nervous thoughts, Gamora's doubtful ones, Stephen's skeptical thoughts, Rocket's pissed ones, Drax's worried thoughts, and Groot's complex ones.

She focused, her hearing narrowed.

It felt magnetic, electric, and wonderfully simple. It was a simple pull. The Stone knew its person, she knew its person.

She opened her eyes and followed the Aether, it needed her. She needed it.

The Reality Stone liquified, all of its shards fused in a thick, oil-like substance. It floated, reminding her of a lava lamp. She raised a hand and pulled it closer to her.

Doubtful thoughts turned to believing ones. Impatience became mystification. She was its person.

The Aether danced around her fingers, careful to never touch her. The Aether was at ease.

"It's you," Drax stated the obvious. "You're the wielder."

The Collector grinned, "I told you."