Notti Insonne

24

A/N: thank u all for the feedback, sorry i haven't updated in awhile I hurt my leg rlly bad and didn't have the chance to update but here u go now

There's a giant boom, and the walls of the ship shake as the noise echoes through the rooms. Peter, Gamora, and the Ravagers are looking around the room, silent, and Yondu is quick to make his way to the pilot's station. They all follow him as more explosions come, and they eventually have to start running to catch up with Yondu.

"Cap, the shot was non-damaging." Yondu is staring out the window at the gigantic ship in front of them, and Peter brushes past him to see, eyes widening as he realizes that's his ship.

"Attention, idiots." It's Rocket. Shit, did Rocket really come back for them? Yondu and the Ravagers are exchanging glances, and Peter's still staring in shock at the Milano outside. "The lunatic on top of this craft is holding a Hadron Enforcer. A weapon of my own design." "What the hell...?" Yondu mumbles, eyeing Peter suspiciously. "If you don't hand over our companions now, he's gonna tear your ship a new one. A very big new one!" Yondu scoffs. "I ain't buying it!" Rocket's voice comes through the speaker again. "I'm giving you 'til the count of five. Five! Four! Three!"

Peter springs into action, along with Gamora, and he shoves aside the few Ravagers in front of him, dashing towards the intercom system. "Rocket! It's me, for God's sake, we figured it out, we're fine!" There's silence for a moment, and Peter stares at the ship in front of them. "Oh, hey, Quill. What's going on?" Peter sighs, the tension leaving his body, at least for a couple moments.

When Peter and Gamora are back on the Milano, gathered in the main room with the rest of them and holding what Gamora called a "group discussion", it seems like rather than a group discussion it's turned into some sort of rally against Peter. "You call that 'figured it out'?!" Rocket yells, perched on a metal box. "We're gonna rob the guys who just beat us senseless!" Peter turns to him with a glare. "Oh, you wanna talk about senseless?! How about trying to save us by blowing us up?!" "We were only gonna blow you up if he didn't turn you guys over!" "How on Earth were they gonna turn us over when you only gave them a count of five?!"

Gamora is pacing around the room, shooting glares at the two of them, and Drax is watching silently along with Groot as they argue. "Well, we didn't have time to work out the minuteia of the plan! This is what we get for acting altruistically!" "I am Groot." "They are ungrateful." Peter scoffs, rolling his eyes. Gamora, taking the moment to seize control of the conversation, reprimands, "What's important now is that we get the Ravagers' army to help us save Xandar." Rocket glances over at her. "So we can give the stone to Yondu, who's just gonna sell to somebody even worse?" Peter closes his eyes, taking in a breath through his nose. "We'll figure that part out later." "We have to stop Ronan." Gamora says. Rocket throws his hands up in the air. "How?!" "I have a plan." Rocket looks at Peter immediately, as if he'd just said something hilarious. "You've got a plan." Peter hesitates, then nods. "Yes." The tone of his voice rises a little at the end, causing it to sound like more of a question than a response.

"First of all, you're copying me from when I said I had a plan." "No, I'm not. People say that all the time. It's not that unique of a thing for people to say." Rocket ignores him. "Secondly, I don't think you have a plan." Peter's temper rises, and he unconciously takes a step towards Rocket. "I have part of a plan!" Drax speaks up for the first time since they'd gathered there, staring at Peter. "What percentage of a plan do you have?" Peter stops, looking at him, and Gamora pipes up, pointing an accusitory finger towards Drax. "You don't get to ask questions after what you pulled on Knowhere." "I just saved Quill!" Peter turns to him. "We've already established that destroying the ship that I'm on is not saving me." "When did we establish it?" "Like three seconds ago!" Peter yells.

"I wasn't listening. I was thinking of something else." He mumbles, turning away from Peter's burning gaze. Gamora groans, looking up at the ceiling. Rocket nods. "She's right. You don't get an opinion," he turns to Peter, "what percentage?" He sighs, staring at the ground. "I don't know. Twelve percent." "Twelve percent?!" He bursts out laughing, but it's forced; he's leaning backwards and grabbing his stomach as he hysterically laughs. "That's a fake laugh." Peter grumbles. "It's real!" "Totally fake." "That is the most real, authentic, hysterical laugh of my entire life because that is not a plan."

Gamora looks down, agreeing. "It's barely a concept." Peter shoots her a look, crossing his arms defensively. "You're taking their side?!" "I am Groot." Rocket kicks Groot's leg angrily. "So what, it's better than eleven percent? What the hell does that have to do with anything!" Peter turns to Groot, uncrossing his arms. "Thank you, Groot. Thank you." He turns to the others with a smug expression, gesturing to Groot. "See? He's the only one of you who has a clue." He turns his gaze to Groot again, but the idiot's gone back to being less than intellectual, and is now eating a flower growing on his shoulder. Peter's fingers go automatically to the bridge of his nose, and he walks a few steps away from the group.

He needs a break.

Turning around, suddenly tired of all the arguing, all the yelling, and all the drama, he drops the defensive tone in his voice and just whispers in defeat, "Guys. Come on. Yondu is gonna be here in two seconds, he expects to hear this big plan of ours." He stops, staring at the ground. "I need your help." His voice comes out small, and he inwardly cringes, but he continues nonetheless. Looking up once again, his eyes pan over them all. "I look around at us, and you know what I see?" Silence. "Losers." Drax leans forward in his chair, glaring at Peter. He blinks, realizing the way that sounded. "I mean, like, folks who've lost stuff. And we have. All of us. Our homes. Our families. Normal lives." His voice trails off. "Usually, life takes more than it gives. But not today. Today, it's given us something. It's given us a chance." He lets out a breath. "To do what?" Drax asks quietly. "To give a shit," Peter replies, avoiding eye contact. "For once. Not run away."

He thinks of his mother; the way he turned and hid from her. The way he ran from the hospital, right into the hands of Yondu and away from his family. "I, for one, am not gonna sit here and watch as Ronan wipes out billions of innocent lives."

Rocket speaks, slowly and carefully. "But, Quill, stopping Ronan- it's impossible." There's a pause. "You're asking us to die."

Peter sighs, and looks down, pulling his jacket tighter around him as if it's a shield, something to protect him from the terrible cold that suddenly threatens to enter his bones, to cover his skin and fill his whole body. "Yeah. I guess I am." Without another word, he turns silently and walks to the doorway, stopping at the edge of it to stare at the ground.

"Quill." Gamora speaks softly. He turns slowly, lifting his eyes and making eye contact. "I have lived most of my life surrounded by my enemies." She stands up. "I would be grateful to die among my friends." Drax stands up as well, his low voice penetrating the silence that followed Gamora's statement. "You are an honorable man, Quill. I will fight beside you. And in the end, I will see my wife and daughter again." Peter looks at him with a glint of understanding in his eyes, and Groot stands up soon after. "I am Groot." They all turn to Rocket, and he just sighs. "Oh, what the hell. I don't got that long a lifespan, anyway." Without another word, he stands on his chair. "Now I'm standing. Are ya happy? All standing up now. Buncha jackasses. Standing in a circle."

They spend the next few hours explaining the plan to each other and to the Ravagers, preparing for the final battle between them and Ronan.

It's all Peter can do to hide the feeling of sickness in his stomach as he thinks of the events to come.