The Soul World

Deep talks and devilry

After hours of enthusing about various memes, pop culture, and science experiments with Shuri, Peter returned with her to the central gathering, where most people had decided to try and sleep.

There was no 'night' in the Soul World so people generally slept whenever they felt tired, but since there was no point in planning when only half of the leaders were awake, everyone had taken a break together.

Shuri was one of those people who could sleep anywhere and as soon as she and Peter had lain down on the outskirts of a mass of dozing bodies, she was out like a light. 

Peter, on the other hand, found himself rolling over on the hard, amber ground, his eyes staying resolutely open with the infinite sunset melting in the depths his pupils. 

His suit was sweaty and uncomfortable and Peter tossed over as he attempted to rest.  In the corner of his eye, he saw Quill a few feet away watching over the rest of the Guardians. Peter got up and moved to sit next to him.

"Hey kid," whispered Quill, so as not to disturb the others, "how's life? I hope you had fun with Shuri today. Strange has been nagging to see you but we'll deal with him later."

"Yeah, life's not bad right now," shrugged Peter, "it was good to speak with someone around my age who I can relate to, plus Shuri's super cool. And we've finally found the other heroes, so that's good. I should probably be worried about the big battle with Thanos but... I guess it just seems so distant right now.  Who knows what will happen?"

"I get what you mean," 

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, listening to the steady breaths of everyone else sleeping and watching their chests rise and fall. For the first time in the Soul World, Peter felt truly peaceful without being influenced by Mantis' power. There were no threats, no action. Finally, they could relax.

As Peter mulled over his thoughts, he recalled something that Quill had said when they first got here.

"Um, Quill?"

"Yeah?"

"You know..." Peter hesitated, "You know when you said that dads are overrated, when we first got here and I was freaking out about Mr Stark?" Quill nodded slowly. "Did you mean it?"

"Aw, kid," Quill sighed. "I guess I've never had a good experience with dads. My real one buggered off when my mum died, then 30 years later he showed up and tried to make up for it by being all nice and fatherly.

"Thing is, I was so focused on what I thought was my family that I forgot my real family. These guys." He gestured to Mantis, Drax and Groot, all dozing innocently, "And of course Rocket and... Gamora," he choked and looked down, 

"After we found out that my dad was an evil maniac who killed my mum and only wanted me as a battery, we had to kill him. And now my father-in-law is Thanos and we have to kill him too. So I'm not a good adviser on father figures." Quill waved his hand helplessly.

"My parents died in a car crash," Peter admitted, "they weren't evil or anything. Just unlucky. And then my Uncle Ben got shot and now I just feel, like, like if I let anyone else into that space, they'll die too..."

"I'm sorry, man, I really am. I know what it's like to lose someone close to you." Once again, Quill remembered Gamora and squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying, the pain of losing her fresh in his memory. 

After a moment, he turned to Peter again. "Look, no one can ever take their place. Sometimes I miss my real dad, or at least I miss what I could have had, if he had been normal. But life's not fair that way. Besides, I wouldn't give up my new family for any number of perfect childhoods. You don't get to choose what people are like, you can only choose which ones you let close to you."

Quill patted Peter on the shoulder, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, no one's going to die just because they become your father figure; you're not cursed. And, if you find someone who you trust and who might be able to fill up even a tiny bit of that space, let them in! You can't shut people out just because you think it will be more painful to lose them. 

"I found my family in a way I didn't even know was possible. I believe that you can find yours too, if you only allow people to get close."

Despite Quill's bickering with the Guardians, the fondness in his eyes as he kept watch over them now confirmed to Peter that his words were true. Peter resolved that, when they got out of here, he would spend more time with Mr Stark to learn how to be an Avenger, and hopefully grow closer in the process.

"Now Peter, you should rest," said Quill, raising his eyebrows at Peter, "you'll need your energy."

Reluctantly, Peter agreed and settled down again, helplessly pursuing sleep. But there was one more issue wriggling in the back of his mind:

Since Peter had been unconscious when they left Robert behind, he didn't feel like their fight was really resolved. If nothing else, he wanted to say goodbye to Robert. In spite of their dispute, he felt bad about leaving the other boy alone, especially as he had stirred such trouble in the last city.

Also, there was a possibility that he could convince Robert to fight with them. Strange kept going on about how they needed an army, and Robert, despite not using his powers for good, was quite powerful. Surely it would be foolish to exclude his abilities?

Unable to rest, Peter made up his mind. Quietly, he padded over to where Strange was snoring, deep in slumber. His sling ring glinted in the light on one hand, which was sprawled across his chest. Peter bit his lip.

Now, the challenge would be to remove it without alerting Strange.

Carefully, he focused all of his enhanced agility, keeping on his tip toes, and leaned over Strange, his breaths hushed and shallow. With delicate fingers, he reached over and slid Strange's sling ring off his fingers without pulling on them, as if he was playing the game, Operation.

Strange sniffed in his sleep and Peter froze.

Waited...

1... 2... 3... 4... 5...

Nothing. Peter finally passed the large ring off Strange's fingernails and let out a breath of relief. He snuck past the rest of the crowd, who were either sleeping, or chatting quietly, or just sitting and thinking. 

Trying to not look suspicious, Peter nodded and waved to a few of the people who were awake and made his way to a safe spot, a good distance away from prying eyes.

"Okay..." He muttered to himself, "This can't be too hard, right?" Peter mimicked the circular motion of Strange's hands when he made his portals, focusing his will on the ring as he slotted it onto his fingers. The ring was too big for his slim hands, but he hoped that wouldn't matter.

The air remained frustratingly portal-less. Peter tried again. Swinging his hands in a giant arc, he concentrated all his energy on the thought of the Avengers Compound, which was where they'd left Robert. Still nothing. 

Although he knew nothing of magic, he thought that hours of binging Merlin, Harry Potter, even Sabrina the Teenage Witch, might have taught him a thing or two. Was there a magic word he had to say? How did Strange do this?

He began again and squinted at the ring.

This time, something flickered...