Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The entire mission had been a disaster. Drax knew it, and he felt it in every muscle of his aching body. As a Kylosian, he was well equipped to deal with a lot of physical strain. His bones were very difficult to break, and bruises were something almost unheard of. This time, however, he felt as though - in the words of Star-Lord - his whole body was "one big bruise."

The Milano was still right where they'd hidden her (he'd only recently begun referring to the ship as female, to their resident Terran's delight), and Drax pulled himself in with not a few grunts of pain.

Everything was as they had left it.

Several bundles of electronics were strewn about on the table, presumably belonging to Rocket, along with a few pieces of food (Drax the Destroyer would not fight hungry). There were some flower petals on the floor where Groot had been working alongside his rodent friend, and the Kylosian almost sat down on one of Quill's Terran oddities as he all but collapsed into the chair at the table.

He picked it up reverently, and then turned it in his fingers when he sat down. Their distractible human had found it on the last mission, interrupting everyone to excitedly explain that it was a yo-yo before eagerly demonstrating a few tricks with it. It was a primitive and simple weapon, but an effective one nonetheless, seeing as Star-Lord's impromptu showcase of it had only ended when he'd accidentally hit Rocket, who had promptly dropped what he was working on.

Gamora had confiscated the yo-yo immediately after they'd put out the fire.

She must have forgotten it on the chair when they'd left for the mission, Drax mused as he turned the deep green object over in his comparatively large hands. They had left in quite a hurry, though the mission hadn't really been expected, in their defense. A frantic call had come in from the Nova Corps, who told them over the crackly channel that the planet they were flying by, Sulayii, was a big part of the slave industry. More specifically, it was home to the headquarters of the Rolynm Slavery Ring. The Corpsmen had explained that it was a recent discovery given to them by an escaped slave.

The Rolynm Slavery Ring (RSR) - known and feared throughout the whole of the Galaxy - had never been caught red handed in any of their dealings with anyone, and so this knowledge of their headquarters was to be put to good use immediately. The Nova Corps had explained in painstaking detail that they could not launch any sort of attack on Sulayii, and that their hands were summarily tied - though Drax had seen Corpsman Dey using his hands freely for the entirety of the call. Because the Nova Corps could do nothing, they hoped that the more flexible Guardians could retrieve a suitable amount of incriminating information in their place. 

Of course the Guardians had griped and complained about how it was vacation time, and how they were low on supplies - it was only after the Nova Corps confirmed their reward that they inevitably landed on the planet. Their job was not to free all of the slaves, but to merely infiltrate the headquarters and copy the information needed to take the entire Ring down. They would be in and out, according to the Nova Corps.

Drax hadn't liked the subtlety and sneaky nature of the plan, and the rodent had agreed with him. Quill and Gamora liked it though, and with Quill assuring them that it would be a "piece of cake," they had swiftly hidden their ship and moved in on the bustling capital city.

Sulayii was a planet known for markets along with a rich, old-fashioned culture. The streets were always brimming with vendors, colors, and creatures of all shapes and sizes. Everything that could be sold was for sale (Drax highly doubted that they had the lowest prices in the galaxy. There was no way they could have known that.). Drax fondly recalled that all of his companions had struggled to keep their attention fixed on the task at hand, easily distracted by the stalls and wares that surrounded them on every side.

Gamora was the only one apart from the Kylosian whose stride had never faltered. The other three Guardians had merely moved from stall to stall, eyes widening at the different commodities that each one offered.

Drax could see that Star-Lord expected thieves, as his hand had been on his feminine purse almost the entire walk to where the headquarters resided. They never came, though. The few shadier creatures that had dared come close to Groot's hulking figure soon caught Drax's eyes and wandered quickly in the other direction.

In less than an hour, they had stood before a tall building, with hordes of people passing and pressing in on them. It appeared unremarkable but for the amount of creatures constantly passing through its doors. Drax could clearly recall how Star-Lord had given them a plan, smiling as he assured them it was failsafe. Drax had been annoyed at having to infiltrate the Ring, but had been placated by their chattering leader - they would surely come back later and decimate the RSR's entire headquarters, and it was the only reason that the Destroyer had refrained from attacking the slave-traders head on. Star-Lord's plan had been simple, and it had not been the first of its kind - all of them had thought that it was going to be easy.

Drax set the yo-yo down on the counter with a sigh that seemed to come from his heart instead of his lungs (anatomically impossible). The plan had failed. He had not understood what was meant by "piece of cake," but he doubted that it was this sense of loss that seemed to currently define him.

The RSR had incorporated far more people than Drax would have thought possible. When the Guardians had neared the intimidating headquarters of the RSR at least 40 individuals had suddenly converged upon them. In a small matter of moments, Drax had lost sight of his friends, and hands were coming from everywhere. All were enemies. All were trying to subdue him.

The Destroyer would not be subdued.

Drax had quickly drawn his knives. He had not been able to see the other Guardians, but the street began to turn many different colors as he slashed through his opponents, determined to leave victorious. No one ambushed Drax the Destroyer! … Yet there had been many. Too many enemies with too many weapons, all closing in on him. An explosion had thrown him from the fight, slamming him hard into a wall.

"GROOT!" Rocket's cry had sounded as Drax had laboriously pulled himself to his feet. The Destroyer felt as though the shriek were still ringing in his ears. It had been full of pain. Of desperation. Drax had not liked to hear his confident teammate sound so tortured, and had tried to get to the middle of the fight. That was where his teammates seemed to be, yet he was unable to do so. Waves of his enemies had poured into his path, blocking it efficiently. More grenades were thrown, and it had been all he could do then to dodge.

A huge alien with metal fists had met him blow for blow, and gotten more than a few good hits before Drax had killed him.

"Rocket, No!" Gamora's voice had come from his left, and Drax remembered wondering how the recent punch to his shoulder had hurt his heart. The assassin yelled in pain right after, and Drax could see electricity arcing through the fight.

"Drax! Get the Milano!" Quill's shout had reached him then, and Drax had gutted two enemies as he searched for his leader. "Get out of here! Go!" More electricity arced, and Quill's urgent commands had been cut short. The electricity hadn't stopped, still streaming through the mob around him, but Drax refused to succumb. He had cut his way out, and then he'd done his least favorite thing of all.

He'd run away.

Now he was here on the ship, just as Star-Lord had ordered. He had left his family, and this time it had been of his own free will.

Drax had failed again.

The Destroyer felt his grip tighten on the yo-yo as he remembered the battle. His hate for Thanos still burned brightly in his soul, the deaths of his beloved Hovat and Kamaria etched forevermore into his very being. Yet now, a new hate had formed. A powerful anger seemed to energize Drax's limbs in a way that he had not felt since the day he had become known as the Destroyer. He would not lose another family - not if he could help it. And this time, he could.

Drax's first thought was to pick his knives back up and go kill them all. In his mind he could picture Gamora shaking her head as Quill said, 'We need a plan.'

"A plan." Drax said it out loud, his voice as firm as always, ringing through the empty Milano and surrounding him. "I need a plan."

He paused to think. "I will go in and find my team, and I will destroy anyone who attempts to stop me."

That plan felt good to him, but something about it was too … simple?

"Why must everything be so complicated?" Drax glared at Quill's yo-yo, as though it held the answers.

It did not.

"What is it that constitutes a good plan?" He searched the room with his eyes, seeing evidence of his missing family all over the room. A thought struck him suddenly, "Ah. Gamora speaks often of the element of surprise." He looked at the yo-yo again. "Perhaps my plan does not always work because it is so simple, they thought of it already."

It explained quite a bit now that he was thinking about it.

"What would friend Gamora do then, to surprise them?" His gaze fell on the flower petals as he thought it over. "She would sneak in and kill them while they sleep." He looked at the rodent's tools on the table before him, a smile quirking his lips. "The Rodent would blow them up."

Finally, he returned to the yo-yo, finishing distastefully. "Quill would talk to them. I do not like that plan."

Drax closed his eyes, feeling a growl beginning in the back of his throat, and he let it loose in one big roar, his frustration flowing through his vocal cords to echo in the ship all around him. "My family has been taken! By now they are either dead or being sold as slaves!" He pulled his arm back, the muscles protesting as he prepared to throw the yo-yo, but then he paused, unable to complete the action.

"I am a Guardian of the Galaxy, but I am alone. I am Drax the Destroyer." He let his arm drop. "I would give anything in the galaxy to have my family back."

Drax pulled himself to his feet, tucking the yo-yo into his pocket. "I must rescue them. I will not return without them."

He stared around at the room for a moment longer, and then tucked one of Rocket's gadgets into his belt as well, ignoring the two flower petals that seemed to cling to it. Rocket would be pleased to have it, just as Quill would be to have his Terran weapon. It made Drax feel stronger (He was not stronger, he knew, but he felt it.).

The Destroyer stalked to the door, ready to leave, and stopped short when his eyes lit upon Gamora's traveling cloak. She often used it when she was on a solo or covert mission. A thought struck him then, and he smiled. "I will use this to disguise myself. Perhaps if they do not recognize me, they will not know me."

It sounded more like one of Quill's plans than his, and this pleased the Kylosian. Drax left the Milano, moving swiftly towards the city. He was on a mission, and to him, it was a mission far more important than the one they had been given by the Nova Corps.

Drax was going to rescue his family.

Chapter Text

The Kylosian walked with confidence through the city, purposefully striding past the street vendors. Drax hadn’t forgotten the way to the building, and soon he was standing in front of it once more. A gleaming tower, its reflective surface was practically blinding where the light hit it, and people were pouring in and out of its front door. He stood for a long while, merely looking at it. He knew that his family was inside, but he wasn’t certain how to get there without just barging in. For some reason, he felt that he couldn’t do that while wearing Gamora’s cloak. With it on, he felt … different.

Covert.

More like Gamora.

“Sir, may I help you?” The voice startled him, and Drax spun around, reaching for his knives only to stop himself just in time. “Sir?”

Drax sighed inwardly. He wanted to throw the tall yellow alien at a wall and demand that he be led to his team. His family. The cloak stopped him though; Drax had to be subtle. He would try Quill’s way. “I … am looking for where they sell the slaves.”

“Sir!” The alien’s black eyes widened. “You shouldn’t ask about that so openly!”

Drax knew that he was no good at being subtle, but he was determined to continue trying, lowering his voice to answer. “That is where I mean to go. I will desist in asking when I get there.”

The alien made a panicked shushing sound, pulling Drax to the side. “Someone must have given you bad directions Mr. …” The alien paused, sizing him up. A moment later the yellow man prodded. “What was your name again?”

Drax froze. Gamora’s cape made him feel invisible, but with this man here, questioning him, he knew that he had to answer, and the simple answer - the Drax answer - was not the appropriate one for his situation. His clothes suddenly felt too tight, and the hood of Gamora’s cloak seemed to be affecting his ability to breathe normally (illogical). He could feel the weight of his knives in his belt, along with Rocket’s gadget and Quill’s yo-yo. Star-Lord … Drax wished fervently that the human were there. He would know what lie to tell.

“Please do not be alarmed …” Drax found the yo-yo with his hand, running his thumb over the smooth surface as he searched his mind for a name. “I am … Thanos … a.” He mentally cursed. It was an obvious lie. “Thanosa.”

“What?” The alien recoiled, and Drax knew he was in trouble. Yet he could not stop now. He would finish what he had started. What would he say to a man if that were his real name? “My name is an unfortunate coincidence, yes.”

“I- oh! Er, …” The alien stuttered, obviously embarrassed. “I am quite pleased to meet you, of course. I am Jaifo, one of the many employees here at the …” The yellow man furtively glanced left and right, making certain that no one was listening. “Here at the RSR.”

Drax didn’t think that the alien sounded very pleased, but he was too excited that his lie had been believed to do much more than nod.

“If you’ll come with me, I’ll take you straight inside. I’m sorry you got such bad directions, really, you’ve missed the whole auction. I’m late myself, and I’m sure they’ve already started the staff meeting!”

“The auction?” Drax asked as Jaifo led him towards the building.

“Yes, the special one that was called today! It’s what you were here for, wasn’t it?”

“It was. Yes.” The Kylosian suddenly understood what Jaifo thought of him. “I am here to buy a slave.” Drax could hardly believe that those words had rolled so easily off of his tongue when they were such a clear falsehood, yet the alien before him didn’t seem to notice.

They walked into the building, passing a myriad of people, all on their own business. Jaifo took him straight to the elevator in the back wall. “Yes, well, I believe you’re in luck! I don’t think all of the newer batch were bought, or at least, that’s what I heard … So since you missed the auction by so little time, I’ll let you buy between shows.” The man looked at him intently. “Just this once, so you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Thank you.” Drax said. He didn’t mean it, but it seemed appropriate. Jaifo merely smiled as they entered the elevator, the doors closing behind them. The yellow alien then quickly scanned his hand and pressed the button that appeared afterwards. Drax thought that he was quite a foolish employee if he was allowing a complete stranger in like this.

“Of course! The customer is always right!”

Drax blinked. “What if they are wrong?”

“Oh, it’s just a saying. Our boss is a marketing genius, he’s the one who came up with it.” The man chuckled, misinterpreting Drax’s honest question to be humor. Drax was used to it, and so merely nodded as the doors opened once again.

“Ah, here we are, Mr.- er … Thanosa, welcome to the greatest selection of specimens in the Galaxy!” Jaifo spread his arms as they stepped out of the elevator, revealing a long hall in front of them. “You are free to browse through them, and take your time. Just remember, if you want to touch them, you have to find an employee. If you try to touch them yourself, you’ll immediately set off the alarm and be attacked by the 127 security guards of the facility.”

Ah. That was why the alien was so confident about letting Drax roam around.

“I understand.” Was all the Destroyer said, silently thinking to himself that he could probably take on that many.

“Excellent! Now, I’m late for a meeting, so I’m sorry to leave you, but if I may be excused- …”

“I will not stop you.” Drax nodded, and Jaifo ran off, the sound of his boots echoing in the seemingly empty metal hall.

The Kylosian looked left and right, and he could see another man standing not too far down the hall with a blaster in his hand. He must have been one of the security guards. “You! I am in need of assistance.”
“You heard what the Big J said.” The light-pink skinned guard shrugged. “You’re free to look at your options now.”

“Who is the big J?” Drax paused. “And I want to buy very specific slaves.”

“Jaifo is the boss’s son. ‘S why we call ‘im Big J. What he says goes. It’s why we’re lettin’ you in here between auctions.” The guard seemed supremely bored. “Now you say you wan’ a specific bunch?”

“I want to buy the Guardians of the Galaxy.” Drax said immediately, and the alien before him snorted.

“Little late for that. You missed the whole auction.” His eyes widened behind his visor, then. “Ah, that must be why Big J letcha in. You missed all the action.”

“They have all been sold?” Drax felt panic rising inside of him, and under his cloak, his fingers twitched towards his knives.

“All of ‘em ‘cept that Star-guy. Nobody wanted him.”

“Star-Lord?” The Destroyer leaned forward. “Take me to him.”

“Well …” The guard leisurely checked his watch. “He should be done being punished by now. Follow me.”

“Punished?” Drax followed, not liking where the conversation seemed to be headed. He would destroy those who hurt his family. He could see many different aliens behind glass as he walked down the hall, reminding him of the collector. They all wore collars, and refused to meet his eyes.

“Yeah. He didn’t wanna follow orders. Slaves haf’ta follow orders, an’ if not, they’re punished.” The alien’s step was brisk as he turned a corner. “The rest o’ them so-called Guardians were gonna be punished too, if they weren’t bought.”

Drax could feel the tension in his muscles increasing, and his brow furrowed as he continued to walk behind the guard. “How are these- slaves … punished?”

“Depends.” The alien shrugged as they neared the end of their current hallway, hand stretching forward to open the large metal door in the wall. “Sometimes shock, sometimes lashes, sometimes … well. There are lots of ways.” The Kylosian’s entire chest began to burn with fury, and he thought of several ways in which he could destroy the man before him.

“This is the room where the slaves are punished. Star-Man should still be here.”

The guard opened the door smoothly, and Drax walked forward immediately. He was ready to rescue Star-Lord, but there was a fear rooted deeply in his chest at what he might see. He could only hope that his leader wasn’t completely incapacitated. Quill was normally quite a bit stronger than he appeared; Drax also knew that the human would do anything to help their lost team-members.

They were family, after all.

Chapter Text

Drax entered the room with trepidation, afraid of what he would see. His gaze was immediately drawn by a groan from the center of the room, and it was only fierce willpower that prevented him from rushing towards his leader as soon as he saw him.

Quill was on his hands and knees, wearing nothing but his pants, bruises and red stripes covering his back and torso with light trails of blood seeping out of them. Even the bottom of his feet had not been spared. His face was covered in bruises as well, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. He was spitting up blood, and his good eye took a while to focus on the Destroyer.

There was also a collar around his neck; it was something that Drax now knew was for controlling and subduing the slaves. One of the two guards behind the damaged human probably held the remote for it. Drax sized them up immediately, deeming the orange one to be weaker than the pale one, who was likely the one holding the remote.

"He's not much to look at now, but he was bein' a da'ast pain when they dragged 'im in here. Lotta spirit." The pale guard spoke about the Terran as though he weren't there, and the impersonal tone of his voice left Drax's fingers twitching for his knives once again.

"He is the one that I want." The Kylosian controlled his voice as well as he was able to, but was alarmed when Quill's head snapped up, his eye squinting blearily in Drax's direction.

"Ah. He's pretty new, so you'll have to pay quite a hefty sum if you want 'im." The guard said, scratching his chin absent-mindedly. "And he's not in the best condition right now. You sure it's him you want?"

"I am certain." Drax wasted no more time. "Where are his … belongings?"

"He owns nothing but his pants, right now." The security guard snorted, and the other guard grinned. The pink guard who had led Drax in chuckled from behind him, and the Destroyer frowned. He could not see anything humorous about the situation.

"D- … rrrx …" Quill had finally fallen, now lying prone on the floor.

"Still tryin' ta talk?" One of the guards behind Star-Lord spoke, his tone disbelieving. "What's it gonna take before you understand that when we say 'quiet', you shut up?!"

The whip was raised, and Drax put up a hand, stalling its descent. "Stop!" They all started, looking at him in confusion, and Drax remembered that he was here to buy a slave. "I … will deal with his behavior from now on. He is mine."

"Not until you pay up. That'd be 60 million units." The guard who had led him to the room of punishment stepped forward and nudged Quill's arm none too gently. "Get up. You got a buyer."

"Drr'x …" The Terran mumbled.

Drax could watch no longer. "I said that he is mine." He stepped forward. "You will not touch him again."

The guards looked at him in disbelief, and the Destroyer held himself back, knowing that he could not kill them until he got all of the information he needed first. "When you have taken a new … slave … what happens to their belongings?"

"Another auction." The orange guard answered now, and Drax found that he hated them all almost equally. "It should be starting in ten minutes, actually. Why? You want whatever this Star-Guy had on 'im?"

"I do not want it." The Destroyer spoke honestly for the first time in a while, even as his hands finally gripped the knives under Gamora's cloak. Quill's plan could only take him so far, and he was ready to put his original idea into action. "But I know that Star-Lord is quite attached to those things. He will want them."

"Wha-" The first guard didn't even have time to finish. Both of Drax's knives found the necks of the two guards behind him, and in a single bound, he had the man pinned to the ground with his hand on his throat.

"I am Drax the Destroyer." It felt good to say his true name out loud as he tore off his hood to prove it. "This pathetic human is my family, and you have hurt him. For this, I will do the same to you."

He never got a response, as he picked the guard up and threw him against the wall before retrieving his knives. The wall cracked where the man hit it, and he didn't move again.

"Star-Lord." Drax walked quietly and knelt next to his leader, touching his bare shoulder lightly in one of the few places that wasn't bloody. The skin was still slick with sweat, and the human shuddered under his touch. "I have come to rescue you. Are you still conscious?"

"Uhhhn …"

"Quill, your mumbles are incoherent. I am going to get you out of here, but first I need to retrieve your belongings."

"Mmm … t'pe … G'mmmra …"

"I am going to pick you up, Quill, so it would be best if you lost consciousness swiftly, or became coherent enough to help me."

"DRAX!" The human suddenly sat upright, then groaned, pulling shaking hands through his hair as his good eye darted around, wavering as it found the Kylosian's gaze. "Drax, no! No- too late! Too late, I- I couldn't do it! I couldn't stop them, and Gamora … Rocket a- and Groot … nonononono … I … I-"

"Quill, I know that they are gone," Drax spoke softly to the hyperventilating human, seeing that he most probably had some degree of head trauma, "But I cannot rescue them without your help."

"I- … ohhh … Drax …" Star-Lord continued to moan and shudder for a moment, before his eye finally came to rest on the Kylosian. "Drax … the- … how did you get in here?"

"I have infiltrated the Slavery Ring, and now I am going to get our belongings before taking the Milano to rescue friends Gamora, Groot and Rocket."

"But h- how …?"

"They believed me to be Thanosa." Drax smiled, quite pleased with his work, only for the human to blink at him dazedly. "Let us go. We cannot wait here for the rest of the guards. There are now 124 left."

He put his hand under Quill's upper arm, supporting him as the Terran stood on wobbly legs. Once again the collar on his friend caught his eyes, and he quickly scanned his fallen foes for the remote.

He soon spotted a small device that fit the bill, and while still supporting Quill, toed it over to himself with his boot before picking it up. "H- hey, Drax?"

"Yes, friend Quill?" Drax studied the small remote, soon pressing a button that had the collar hissing open and clattering to the floor. "Speak, I am listening."

"I- … I think this was a set-up … It's l- like, … they knew we were coming …" The human was leaning heavily on Drax, and the Destroyer glanced at his friend worriedly.

"If what you say is true, then I will find the man responsible for this atrocity, and I will have my revenge on him for his crime against my family!" Drax kept supporting Quill as he spoke, and the human nodded.

"You-" Quill gave a small gasp of pain before continuing. "You an' me both, bud …"

The human seemed far more coherent now than he had been before, but Drax was still loathe allowing him to stand on his own. He found that he had to, however, when Quill spoke again.

"Dude … I- I think … we can pull this off … get me one of those guard's uniforms …"

The Kylosian did so as swiftly as possible, before he gently helped the human put it all on. It reminded him of helping his daughter clothe herself when she had been very small. He was glad that she had not been in so much pain. Star-Lord made many sounds of discomfort, and continued to repeat "ow owowowowow ouch ow" over and over before they finally finished, with Drax putting the helmet on last. The visor covered the majority of the contusions and abrasions on Quill's face, and only his mouth showed.

His lip was split, and Drax hoped that no one would notice.

Quill grinned with teeth that soon ground into a grimace as he bent over to grab the man's blaster, but he quickly straightened and put it into his holster, panting a little as he spoke. "Okay, … let's go get our stuff."

"Agreed." The Kylosian moved swiftly towards the door, but was stopped by the Terran's voice.

"Oh, Drax, we should- … probably clean up a little, or some- … someone's gonna find these guys and sound the alarm …"

"We do not have the time." The Destroyer looked back at the still slightly trembling Star-Lord. "Peter." The use of the first name gave Drax the human's undivided attention. "I am Drax the Destroyer. No one will apprehend us while I am here."

Quill managed a shaky nod after a moment, taking a deep breath, and then repeated his earlier statement. "Let's go."

Drax didn't like how nervous his leader seemed to be, and silently vowed to seek revenge on all of these slavers the first chance he got. He then remembered something that would perhaps bring his human's confident smile back to his lips.

"Ah." He dug into his pocket, removing the yo-yo. "I retrieved your weapon from Earth. Perhaps it will aid you in our upcoming battles."

The smile did indeed appear on the Terran's face, teasing up his split lip. "Oh, dude …"

"I also brought one of the rodent's bombs, but he is not here." The Kylosian held that out as well, and Quill took both of the items gently from Drax's much larger hands, his fingers still quivering.

"I dunno, Drax … I think- … I think we could work with this."

The Destroyer felt himself smile as well. He knew the look that was spreading across Star-Lord's face, and it was the look that usually got them in big fight.

Drax liked that look.

"The foolish security guards informed me that your belongings would be on auction shortly. I do not know where."

"Well …" Quill's smile still had yet to leave his face, and Drax congratulated himself on having achieved such a feat while his friend was still clearly in so much pain. "Let's go ask."

"A sound plan." The Destroyer led the way, getting almost all the way through the door before Star-Lord's voice hissed from behind,

"Drax! Dude, your hood!"

He immediately pulled it back over his head, and they moved as quickly as they were able through the halls. Drax easily remembered the way back to the entrance of the headquarters, and he kept turning to make certain that the human was keeping up.

Quill quietly told him his plan as they walked, and it was in this way that they became distracted. They turned a corner and almost ran headfirst into the next security guard, who snapped in surprise, "What the- watch where you're goin'!"

Quill backed off immediately, and quite uncharacteristically, "Sorry, man. I- I was just taking this customer to the auction." He jerked a thumb at Drax, who nodded.

"I have been invited by Jaifo."

The guard groaned.

"Well hey, stupid, yer takin' 'im the wrong way." The guard's mouth pressed itself into a thin, irritated line, and Quill responded quite a bit more mildly than he normally would have, merely nodding while the other guard pointed. "Two right turns and then straight to the end of the hall."

"Thanks." The human nodded and the guard continued on with a shaking head and a few mutters that Drax couldn't quite hear. Something about "rookies" and "crazy J".

From there, it was simple enough to navigate, and they were more careful as they turned corners. Quill was walking briskly, giving almost no sign of pain apart from the pallor of his skin and the occasional sharp intake of air.

Drax would have to speak with him about it later, but for now, they were going to retrieve their things and then leave as swiftly as possible. The Destroyer allowed Star-Lord to open the door, since he was the 'guard', and then they both walked in.

It was - to use Quill's metaphor - "show-time".

Chapter Text

The room was huge, with a lot of aliens sitting around a large round table. The table had no center, and in the middle of the empty space there was another round table.

That table was much smaller, and it had the easily recognizable gear of the Guardians of the Galaxy displayed upon it.

There were Rocket's jetpack and pocket dimension storage vial, and there were Quill's element blasters lying alongside Gamora's sword and several articles of clothing. Drax felt anger fill him once more as he realized that they had even stripped the rodent of his small garment.

Next to the table, holding Quill's thrusters in his hands, stood the tall yellow alien Jaifo. He was shoulder to shoulder with a fatter yellow alien that Drax presumed to be his father.

"You made it!" He shouted at Drax from across the room, completely ignoring Quill.

"Jaifo, who is that?" The father appeared to be annoyed.

"His name is Thanosa, and he missed the last auction, so I let him in to buy between auctions." Jaifo seemed oblivious to his father's displeasure and the looks that Drax's fake name received. "Did you find anything that caught your attention?"

"His name is what?" One of the aliens on the side spoke snidely, while Drax answered loudly.

"I looked, but I have not yet decided. For this reason I have come to the auction."

"Well great!" Jaifo grinned. "Please, have a seat!" Then he turned to Quill. "You may go now- … eh … Gora?" He squinted at the human. "Are you all right? Your skin is looking really … pale."

"I'm good." Quill spoke in a fair approximation of the pink guard who Drax had taken the uniform from.

"Huh … well if you feel sick, you know you can call it in, right?" Jaifo apparently personally knew the guard whom Star-Lord was impersonating. It was a miracle that he hadn't immediately recognized that Quill was not the same man. Drax knew that it was time to get their attention back on him.

"How much is the sword?" Drax practically shouted it, causing many of the creatures around him to jump nervously.

"Ah, yes, the weapon of the Daughter of Thanos." Jaifo smiled, revealing many sharp teeth, as he unsheathed and lengthened it. "74 million units."

"This is most expensive." Drax could see Quill shuffling around the edge of the room quietly, passing other security guards with whispered words and apologies. "What about the blaster?"

"Of course!" One of Star-Lord's blasters was held up so that all could easily see it. "A fine example of Spartaxian workmanship, but unfortunately useless in all hands but those of the one who it was made for. It is coded to the DNA of the Spartaxian Prince, Star-Man."

Star-Lord's pout was visible even from the other end of the room. "How much?" Drax persisted, and Jaifo's father seemed surprised by his continued interest.

"But … It is useless to you."

"Yes, but I want it." Drax could see that Quill was now in position behind the two slavers.

"Well … how about 10 thousand units?" Jaifo offered, and Drax could see Quill frowning, no doubt considering his weapons to be worth far more.

"I do not think it is worth that many. I will pay only 5,000."

"10,000 or nothing." Jaifo's father sneered, and Drax immediately replied.

"I will take it for nothing, then."

"No, that's not what- ugh." Jaifo pressed his fingers above his nose, but never got to finish his thought, as Star-Lord himself spoke up then.

"I'll buy it for 10,000."

Both father and son turned in surprise, and the older alien cocked an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be on duty right now?"

"Look, I'll pay you for it." Quill said it quickly, pulling a credit sheet out of his pocket and activating it easily. Drax knew that it could not have been his, but he swiftly managed to enter into it and transfer the units out. "Then I'll just take it and go back to work."

"Why would you want this useless thing?" Jaifo seemed entirely unable to believe what was happening. "Are you sure you're feeling all right, Gora?"

"I just think Star-Lord is amazing. Why wouldn't I want to own his gun?"

"Hahahaha!" Jaifo's father threw his head back to laugh properly, and Drax saw that he and his son were now completely turned away from him. "What in Sulayii could you have seen in the weakest member of those foolish Guardians?"

"Well, a cool looking gun, for one thing."

Drax could see Star-Lord's hand trembling a little as he reached for his weapon, and the Destroyer felt himself relax marginally when his fingers closed on it.

"A useless piece of junk." Jaifo's father shook his head. "I'm beginning to think that my son is correct, Gora. You must not be feeling well to want something that will profit you so little."

"Not so little as you'd think."

Quill's lips quirked up, and that was the only warning anyone had before the blasts erupted from his newly returned blaster.

"Now, Drax!"

The Kylosian wasted no time in leaping over the table, his knives quickly taking out several people before he threw Quill his other gun.

The human caught it and quickly encased a large part of the security guards in ice before Drax activated his helmet and threw it at him whole.

The Destroyer didn't watch to see if Quill had caught that as well, instead quickly turning on Rocket's vial, absorbing the rest of the items on the table before taking out three more guards.

He turned to see Quill taking out more guards as they poured in. "Activate it, Drax!" The human shouted at him, and there were many screeches of pain as his targets were hit. "It should leave us five minutes to get- ugh, to- to get out!" Star-Lord took out the guard that had hit him, but the Kylosian could hear that it had robbed him of his voice.

Drax wasted no time in activating Rocket's bomb, certain that it would take out the room and all of the people in it.

"Star-Lord, do you have the information that you need for Nova Corps?" He took out five more guards as he shouted his question, and turned to see Quill wearing his normal mask, reaching into the fat yellow alien's pocket to retrieve what must have been the data chip that they needed.

"I'll just be taking this."

The aliens struggled against the ice that Star-Lord had trapped them within. "Kill them! Kill them both!"

Drax shouted angrily at the next wave of security. "I am Drax the Destroyer, and I will not lose my family again! No one shall take them from me!" He tore back the hood on Gamora's cloak, and saw some of the guards recognize him as fear filled their eyes.

"Impossible!" Jaifo was scowling, his yellow face orange with betrayal. "They told us that the Destroyer would come in to kill us, not to trick us! They told us that he was a fool who took everything literally!"

"Well. Looks like whoever they are, they don't know him at all." Star-Lord covered the rest of the room in ice, cutting off whatever reply he had been about to get. "Drax! Let's get outta here!"

The Kylosian lost no time in clearing a path through the guards. They were all pouring in through the door, and it was much easier to deal with them when he knew where they were coming from and could so quickly identify them.

Quill must have been correct in his supposition that their previous battle against the RSR had been an ambush, and the thought made Drax roar. "I tire of your pathetic armies! We are the Guardians!" He plowed angrily into the mob, and heard Star-Lord shout from behind.

"You guys realize that this whole room is set to blow, right? I would be running away if I were you losers!"

Drax was fairly certain that it was his large stature and angry face that caused the guards to change directions, and not Quill's bomb threats. Yet he knew that time was of the essence with the bomb ticking, and so did not mention it.

It was time for them to leave.

Chapter Text

Their booted feet pounded loudly in the hallway as they ran from the room, and Drax placed Rocket's vial–filled with his companion's belongings–into his belt. He could hear his leader's harsh breathing from behind him, and turned to see the human struggling to keep his footing as he ran.

It was not a difficult thing to remedy, though Quill's yelps certainly did not help as Drax grabbed the Terran and threw him over his shoulder. "Drax, what the- what the heck, dude?!"

"Star-Lord, you cannot run quickly enough in your current physical state. It would be far more helpful if you made certain that we are not pursued to our ship."

The Terran's reply was lost in the ensuing blaster fire as Drax cleared his way into the elevator, barely getting the door to close behind him. "I dunno if we really have time for an elevator ride, Drax …" Quill said, and the Destroyer agreed, knowing that the elevator controls were DNA coded.

That left only one way out.

"I will get us to the ship, Star-Lord. Do not worry." He set the human back down, and Quill immediately slipped–not having expected it–sitting gracelessly on the floor with a thud and a grunt. The Kylosian looked up at the ceiling for a moment, ignoring the shouts and pounding from the elevator door, before leaping upwards with another roar.

The ceiling crumbled around him under the force of his compact body, and he flew into the elevator shaft easily, landing back on top of the elevator with his feet on either side of the hole. His old bruises flared to life in the wake of this new strain, but Drax was unharmed.

"The hell, man?!" Quill's feminine cries came from beneath him, and he looked down to see the human covered in dust, standing shakily once again.

"Give me your hand, Star-Lord. We cannot stay here."

As if on cue, the building shook with the force of a large explosion, and the Terran lost his footing once more, beginning to fall to the floor again.

He never hit, as Drax bent to grab the back of his guard's uniform and hauled him through the hole to throw him over his shoulder as before. "Draaax!" The human whined, struggling weakly to escape the Kylosian's firm grip as Drax began to use the metal poles in the shaft to climb. "I'm not a baby, dude! I know how to climb!"

"You should not overtax yourself when you are clearly physically unwell." The Destroyer could hear the echoes of pounding rippling up the shaft from where the guards were attempting to follow them. "They did not spare you any pain."

There was a huff of breath from Quill then, and it was a long moment before the Terran finally answered. "I'm fine, Drax."

Drax wanted to point out that the statement was plainly a lie, but he knew that Star-Lord was already aware of that fact, so he remained silent.

It did not take him long to reach the next door up, and it suddenly occurred to him that they were perhaps much farther underground than he had originally thought. If such were the case, than he would have to climb much more before they could reach the ground level.

The Kylosian ignored the sound of blaster fire and the stray shots that flew past him as he looked up the elevator shaft. It was very long, and he couldn't see the top due to how far away it was.

He could feel Quill returning fire from his back, and was pleased to look down and watch as the shaft beneath them was completely blocked with ice.

Drax continued the climb, speeding up when he heard the crackling sound of the ice breaking from below. Star-Lord continued to add more ice with his element blaster even as it was broken away, and he could hear Quill breathing hard with the exertion.

They needed to get out of there.

The Kylosian stopped at the next door, deciding to try it in the hopes that it would lead them outside. If not, then they would have to fight some more guards.

All Drax knew was that whatever happened, he wouldn't lose the family that he had recently found.

"Quill, blast this door open."

"Drax … was the building this tall?" He felt Star-Lord twist, attempting to look over his own shoulder at the elevator shaft above them. "Don't we have to go farther up?"

The Destroyer didn't get the chance to reply as the ice from below them suddenly exploded from the force of a powerful blast.

"Krutack." Star-Lord turned, weakening the door easily with pure flames from his blaster, then leaning back down to replace his icy wall underneath them.

Drax jumped at the red-hot door, and it fell apart around him, only burning him marginally as he broke through it running. Quill closed up the entrance behind them with ice, even as the Kylosian pulled to a stop, surveying the empty hall before him. "Your supposition was correct. We are still too far down."

"Damn!" Quill squirmed in his grip. "Put me down, dude! We need to find out if there are stairs-" He cut himself off as a troop of men turned the corner, their uniforms completely different, though still recognizable as security.

"Get them!" They all ran at Drax, who supposed that Jaifo had only been speaking of the guards on the bottom level when he had numbered them earlier.

It was a good thing that Drax could take on far more than 127. He ran forward with a shout, ready for his revenge. "MEET YOUR DESTROYER!"

Star-Lord squirmed out of his grip then, falling to the floor with a groan. "Drax! These are those losers that got us before! Look out for the electricity!" Mud erupted from his blaster, enveloping a good portion of the guards before he quickly followed it up with wind that dried it to them, rooting them in place.

Drax had already taken out three of them before the electricity reached him. All of his bruises flared to life at once, and he stumbled to his knees while black spots invaded his vision.

For a long moment, Drax's world was pain.

"Get off my friend, you sonuva-!" Quill's voice was the first thing that he became aware of when the pain abruptly stopped, and it took a moment for the Kylosian to clear his head.

He could see that the majority of the room was covered in ice and earth, freezing many guards in place, and he turned to see his leader grappling with two guards at once, listing badly to the side where he stood and breathing quite heavily.

Once more, the Destroyer's knives were flying through the air, dispatching the last two guards just as the human before them collapsed onto the ground. "Quill!" Drax stumbled to his feet, and almost fell back when the room rocked from another explosion.

The guards from below were attempting to break the very thick ice that Star-Lord had placed over the door, but weren't having much success as of yet.

"D- Draaax …" The Terran wheezed, sitting himself up a little, trembling all over.

"I told you, Peter Quill, you have nothing to fear." Drax promised. "I will rescue us from this foul place. I will find the stairs, and if they cannot be found I will make them myself!"

"I- … I believe … you would …" Star-Lord let loose a shaky laugh and Drax nodded sagely.

"It is wise to believe me. I do not lie."

"Except for- … for when you do." The Terran shook his head, and the Kylosian could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yes. Except for when I do."

They both sat like that for a moment longer, the only sounds in the room being Star-Lord's shuddering breaths and the noisy explosions from the elevator shaft. Then Drax finally stood. "I must find the stairs, so that we may escape."

"H- Hey … wait …" The human got to his knees. "M- maybe we don't- … don't need the stairs …" Quill grabbed his arm. "Rocket's vial … the- the jetpack …"

"Ah." Drax nodded, pulling it out of his pocket immediately. "That will aid us much more in our escape." He activated the vial, watching as Gamora's sword fell out, followed closely by Rocket's clothes, and then his jetpack.

The Kylosian put it on quickly before returning the other items to the vial and tucking it back into place, looking at his leader, who was still on his hands and knees. "Star-Lord, are you capable of blasting the ceilings above us?"

"Why Drax, I thought you'd never ask!" The enthusiasm and humor in the Terran's voice were at odds with the strangeness of his statement, revealing its sarcastic quality. The Destroyer still replied, keeping the smile from his own face.

"You were incorrect if you thought that I would never ask for your assistance." Drax picked up the human easily, this time holding him as he would a small child, allowing Star-Lord a better chance to shoot.

The human laughed at Drax's literal answer, his voice tinny from within the helmet.

Then they rocketed upwards, with Quill spewing fire so that the ceiling would crumble as they flew through it. They passed through four levels in this manner before Drax recognized the floor they were on.

He flew through two more ceilings before changing direction easily, shooting quickly towards the outer wall. They burst out far above the many heads of the creatures below, and the Destroyer angled himself towards the ship immediately.

It felt as though days had passed since Drax had last been outside. The air was sharp with many different smells and flavors, and the two suns of the solar system were beginning to creep into the sky.

His rescue mission had taken him all night.

He utilized Rocket's jetpack for a while longer, and then dropped into the middle of the market, running for all he was worth towards the parked Milano. Drax only slowed down when they exited the city and he could sense no pursuit, and swiftly made his way to where they had hidden their ship, adjusting the quiet Terran in his arms as he did so.

The sight of the Milano filled him with a sense of unprecedented relief, and he found himself excited to share it with the limp human in his arms. "Quill, we are here! We are home!"

There was no answer, and he looked down at Star-Lord, observing his lack of movement before deactivating his leader's mask. The Terran's bruised face was still and pale, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open.

Quill had fainted.

Chapter Text

Drax wasn't particularly surprised by his leader's loss of consciousness, the image of Quill beaten and battered too fresh in his mind for him to do much more than sigh. He gently carried the human into the ship, making him comfortable in his bed before taking the small data chip from the unconscious Terran's pocket.

Quill's wounds were not currently critical, and so the Kylosian did not wake him to treat them yet, instead letting him sleep unhindered.

He made certain that the Milano was cloaked, allowing them to remain where they were without detection. Star-Lord required much rest after their ordeal, and the Destroyer needed to discover where the rest of the Guardians had been taken.

The Kylosian hung up Gamora's cloak, then placed the data chip into the monitor, giving the ship's computer access to everything on it. He sat down in the common room, observing the blinking light as the information downloaded, and then filled the monitor before him.

The first few bits of information were files on the last slaves that had been processed.

He immediately recognized them. They were his friends.

Drax clicked on Gamora's photo, and was disgusted to see how it listed her.

–

Subject Y29703

Previously known as Gamora or the Most Dangerous Woman In The Galaxy.

–

It listed her species and her many attributes, showing pictures of her different cybernetic implants and enhancements. It also had a tag advertising her history, her weight and height, and how she could be most easily subdued and "tamed".

Then, at the bottom of the file, it listed the date from the day before, and a large, bold-lettered word.

–

SOLD

–

Drax's eyes narrowed, and he felt anger begin to burn him from within as he read the next few words.

–

Buyer: Korath, Son of Thanos

Amount: 146 million units

–

The Destroyer only came back to himself when he heard the creak of the table bending underneath the pressure of his hands, and he removed his grip before he broke it.

He quickly returned to the first screen, vowing to kill Korath for what he had done as he clicked through the files on the rest of the Guardians.

His family.

–

Subject Y29701

Previously known as Groot

Species: Flora Colossus

Origin: Planet X

Abilities: Complete extension still unknown, but has re-growth and rejuvenation abilities.

SOLD 22.763.32

Buyer: Taneleer Tivan or The Collector

Amount: 87 million units

–

The Collector? Drax's fists clenched tightly in anger. That man would put his family behind glass, as if they were pieces of art!

No.

Drax would not allow this.

–

Subject Y29702

Previously known as Rocket

Species: As of yet unknown

Origin: Halfworld

Abilities: Enlarged brainstem and spine modifications, adept with machinery, swift with sharp teeth

SOLD 22.763.32

Buyer: Taneleer Tivan or The Collector

Amount: 76.3 million units

–

Drax reflected that at least Groot and Rocket were together. In this way, they would not be alone, as was Gamora, or as he had found Quill.

The Destroyer also smiled to think of how they had discovered Rocket's sharp teeth. He had been on the receiving end of more than a few bites from the rodent when he had put his hands somewhere that Rocket hadn't agreed with.

–

Subject Y29704

Previously known as Peter Jason Quill or Star-Prince

Species: Half Terran and half Spartaxian

Origin: Terra

Abilities: DNA coded weapons

Amount: 60 million units

–

To Drax, retrieving Gamora seemed to be the most prudent of all of their options. Korath was capable of killing Gamora merely because he wished to, and if he turned her in to Thanos, then getting her back would be nigh on impossible.

The Kylosian was lost in thought, considering how to track the Son of Thanos down when Quill's slurred voice came from the side. "Seriously? I'm only worth 60 million units?"

"It is a considerable amount." Drax said, glancing sidelong at the human who seemed to have just entered the room. Star-Lord's face was free of his mask once more, and the bruises stood out starkly against his pale skin. The swelling of his eye had gone down, allowing him to give the Kylosian a level glare.

"Gamora's sword is worth more than me."

"Gamora's blade is a fine weapon." Drax replied. "But do not trouble yourself with what criminals think you are worth. I was not going to pay for you."

Quill's eyebrow shooting up meant that he hadn't quite understood what Drax had said, but he seemed to overlook it as his lips quirked into a smile. "But seriously, dude? Thanosa?"

"They believed me, did they not?" Drax tried and failed to avoid sounding jubilant about it.

"Well, to be fair, they were pretty dumb." Quill rolled his eyes as he sat down heavily next to Drax, scrutinizing the screen before him with eyes that seemed to have trouble focusing. "So. We headin' out to get Gamora?"

"I believe it to be the wisest course of action." Drax nodded, returning his gaze to the screen before them. "The Collector will not harm Rocket or Groot, but Korath could very possibly kill Gamora out of spite alone."

"Freakin'- Ugh." Quill closed his eyes, his split lip twisting in disgust that became a wince of pain. "He's probably just trying to look good for Thanos."

"That is the most likely scenario." Drax agreed.

"But … for 146 million units?" Star-Lord shook his head in disbelief. "Thanos' respect isn't even worth half of that."

"Neither are you, according to these prices." Drax said.

There was a long moment of silence, and then Quill spoke, both of his eyebrows raised and his voice very dry. "Wow, Drax. That felt … very unnecessary."

"That is because it is unnecessary." The Destroyer met the human's gaze seriously. "It is unnecessary and foolish to place a price on someone whose worth far surpasses that of any amount of credits."

The Kylosian greatly enjoyed the naked shock on his Terran's face, and it took a while for sound to come from between Quill's lips.

"Oh."

Drax allowed his own mouth to twitch upwards at the corners, giving his leader a proud smile. He was happy that Quill had survived the RSR, and it was easier to remember that with the human slumped before him.

He could see that Quill was still wearing the guard's uniform, and he knew that there were many wounds hidden underneath, but for now ... Drax was content.

There was a pleasant silence that drew out between the two of them, and then Star-Lord finally spoke. "Thanks, Drax. … For everything. You were really great back there."

Drax felt uncomfortable with the praise, looking away from the human as he replied. "I only wish that I could have arrived sooner, to stop the auction … or that I had been able to prevent your capture in the first place." He looked back up at Quill, meeting the Terran's gaze sadly. "At the very least, I could have perhaps spared you unnecessary pain."

"I'm fine, Drax!" The human grinned at him, then continued speaking before the Kylosian could point out that it was clearly a lie. "There was no way we could have known that it was an ambush, so that's not on you. That's on the a-hole who tipped off the Nova Corps, unless it was a leak of info."

"Are we going to send the information to them about the RSR?" Drax asked, ignoring the metaphor as he eyed the monitor once again, his blood boiling at the faces of his family members that had been sold as animals. He would stand for this no longer. Action had to be taken.

"Well yeah, if there isn't a leak." Quill sighed, running his hand through his hair before wincing and touching the screen instead. "Maybe they'll have information about Korath that we can use to track him down, too."

"It would then be much simpler to rescue friend Gamora." Drax nodded sagely as Star-Lord quickly made the call.

It took less than ten seconds for an answer.

"Corpsman Filliks of the Nova Corps, how may I be of assistance?" Another yellow alien, this one clearly from Xandar, filled the screen.

"Hey." Quill leaned in, looking intently at the screen. "This is the Guardians of the Galaxy. Dude, is Nova Prime there or something? Someone who will know what's going on?"

"I- Well … Nova Prime is … eh … indisposed right at this moment- …" The corpsman began to stutter, and Drax gently but firmly pulled Quill away from the screen as he faced it himself. The Kylosian would not have their needs ignored by the Nova Corps at such a critical time.

They were partly responsible for the scattering of his new family, in a small way.

"The Guardians were given information by the Nova Corps concerning the Rolynm Slavery Ring, and we were ambushed. We demand that the a-hole responsible be killed immediately!"

"Or- Or there might be a leak in Nova Corps, so we don't really wanna send you guys sensitive information until you figure it out- dude, can you just-!" Star-Lord attempted to push Drax back out of the screen, but the Kylosian would not be moved.

"I do not care what Nova Prime is doing right now. I demand that you search for leaks and a-holes and-"

"And it would be really nice if you had any information on where Korath, the Son of Raisin-face is right now." Quill broke in once more, practically draping himself over the Destroyer in his attempt to get back onto the screen.

The poor corpsman on the other end was at a complete loss of words, only managing to stare at them with large eyes. Then he said, "I will go get Nova Prime."

"Good." Drax said it at the same time that Star-Lord muttered,

"Finally."

The human was basically sitting in Drax's lap at this point, and the Kylosian allowed it, knowing that forcing Quill off of him would possibly harm him further.

"Nova Priiiime!" The Terran greeted the woman as soon as her serious face filled the screen. She seemed annoyed, and if she noticed how they were sitting she didn't mention it. "How're ya doin'?"

"I was doing my job until my meeting with the Kree ambassador was interrupted." Her voice was professional, but her irritation was also apparent. "What on Xandar happened to you?" Nova Prime raised an imperious eyebrow, studying Star-Lord's bruises with a critical eye.

"Your information about the Slavery Ring led us into an ambush." Drax began to repeat his demands from earlier. He would have his revenge on the man responsible for the pain and near death of his family. "We demand that you kill the a-!"

"Hahahaaaa …" Quill cut the Destroyer off with a fake laugh before speaking, "We don't know if it was a leak, or if it was your informant, but there is no way we can send you guys the info we got from the RSR until you've figured it out." The human had raised his voice to speak over Drax, but the Kylosian would not be deterred.

"If you do not find the person responsible for this atrocity against the Guardians of the Galaxy, I will come and find him myself, even if I have to tear apart all of Xandar to do so!"

Nova Prime seemed surprised by his outburst, but didn't respond immediately, instead observing both the Destroyer and Star-Lord intently. To Drax, it seemed as though she was attempting to decipher a puzzle, something she often did with them.

Perhaps she was trying to ascertain the truth of their story. They lied to her often enough that her suspicion was justified, and it was a long moment before she accepted what they had said.

"Are you all right?" Nova Prime raised both of her sculpted brows, and genuine concern seemed to shine from her eyes. "Do you require assistance?"

"We just- … we needa know if you guys …" Star-Lord's face twisted as he searched for the right words, "might … maybe possibly have any idea where Korath is?" Quill said it as though it weren't very important, but the Destroyer could feel the tension in the human's body.

"Why do you wish to know that?" Nova Prime asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"The Guardians were captured and sold by the RSR." Drax said. "We are the only two who are currently free."

"I- Oh …" The Xandarian seemed to be blindsided by this news flash, and Star-Lord shot Drax a quick glare.

Perhaps the Terran had not planned on telling Nova Prime.

"Yeah, so Korath has Gamora." Star-Lord said it as quickly as possible. "Also, if you know where the Collector's portable zoo is, that'd be nice too." Quill's face was nonchalant, but his tone belied a deep anger.

Drax found it very relatable.

"Are you certain that you do not require assistance?" Nova Prime said after a moment, and Star-Lord shook his head.

"We just need to know where Korath is."

"Right." Nova Prime turned her head away, activating her personal monitor off-screen. "I'll have his last known coordinates sent to you immediately. He was seen this morning, actually." She looked up again, her eyes fixing on Quill's. "Where are you? Still near Sulayii?"

"Close enough." The human replied.

"We are still on the planet." Drax said, though Star-Lord's elbow in his ribs attempted to stop him.

"Good." Nova Prime nodded curtly, ignoring the small interaction. "Korath and his ship are still nearby, as are Tivan and his … collection. Sending coordinates now."

"Thanks." The Terran said sincerely.

"You will call us if you need assistance?" Nova Prime asked, looking intently at them once more, her gaze lingering on Star-Lord's black eye.

"You know it." Quill winked, and Nova Prime narrowed her eyes at him.

"I don't know it, actually. I'll send out some patrols."

"Awww, don't you trust us?" Star-Lord asked.

"Try not to get killed." Was all the Xandarian woman replied, and then the communication ended.

"Wow. Same old Nova Prime." The Terran grinned at Drax, and the monitor pinged with an incoming message before the Kylosian could answer. "Nice." Quill's opened the message, and then sent it straight to his main console, not even giving Drax a chance to see what it had been.

Presumably it was the location of Korath.

"Okay." Star-Lord stood up from Drax's lap, grunting in pain as it put a strain on his very abused back. "Let's go get Gamora.

Drax stood as well, deciding that he would have to speak with him soon about his injuries as he nodded. "I am ready. Are we going to 'kick butt'?"

"So much butt." Quill's smile turned feral.

Chapter Text

It did not take long for Star-Lord to ready the Milano for takeoff, and had Drax not been watching, he would have perhaps missed the wince of pain when the Terran sat down in his seat on the bridge.

The Milano, still cloaked, moved smoothly upwards, and Drax saw a satisfied smile spread across Quill's face while one hand patted the ship controls.

The Kylosian also felt a strange sort of pride in the Milano.

He had once considered the ship to be strange and dirty, and so it was a small revelation when he realized that he now thought of it as home. How long had he been calling it his home without knowing it?

They uncloaked as they left the atmosphere, and Quill fiddled with his monitor for a moment before pressing a button and sighing. "We're on our way. According to this, we should get there in about an hour."

"Good. This will give us time to treat your wounds." Drax said, and the human whipped around to give him a horrified look.

"Drax, I told you I was fine!"

"I saw the wounds with which they inflicted you, Peter Quill. I know that you are lying." They Destroyer crossed his arms, knowing that it caused him to look intimidating. "So you will come with me and I can assist you in treating them, or I will take you with me and treat them anyway."

"Seriously, Drax." Quill's face was earnest and desperate. "Just leave them alone. They'll … They'll get better by themselves!"

The Kylosian considered it a good sign that the human was–at the very least–no longer denying the existence of the wounds.

"We do not know how clean that uniform is, Quill." Drax kept his gaze level with the Terran's. "Your open cuts will become easily infected if not cleaned and bandaged."

"Why do you have to say nasty things?" Star-Lord closed his eyes, tilting his head back in despair.

"I speak only the truth." The Destroyer neared Quill quietly, and placed a hand gently on his arm, startling his eyes open to meet Drax's. "Peter, I understand that you do not wish to experience more pain, but rescuing friend Gamora will be far simpler if we attend to this immediately."

Star-Lord held his gaze for a long moment, and then looked away with a huff. "I guess- I mean … all right." He lurched to his feet and swept past Drax to leave the bridge. "Let's just get it over with."

Drax followed him down, speaking softly. "You may retrieve your clothing, and I will meet you in the common room."

Quill's mumbled reply was unintelligible, and the Kylosian did not ask for clarification. He knew that the human was not looking forward to his treatment.

Drax was not looking forward to inflicting more pain unnecessarily, either, and quickly gathered everything he would need. He entered the common room to find Star-Lord already there; his regular clothes lumped in a pile on the chair with him standing beside it.

The human wouldn't meet his gaze as he spoke. "Drax, I- … might need some help with the uniform."

The Destroyer nodded, placing his tools on the table before moving forward to help the embarrassed Terran.

Quill made a hissing noise as Drax began to pull the shirt off, and the Kylosian quickly realized that it was stuck to the human's skin. Most likely the blood had dried it that way, and he could see that it would probably be best to tear it off quickly, even though it would reopen the wounds. "I am sorry, Peter, for the pain that I am about to inflict."

"Yeah, just- … just rip it off, man." Star-Lord squeezed his eyes shut, and Drax found himself staring at the bruises on his face for a small moment before acting.

The Kylosian did it as swiftly as he was able, not stopping even when Quill whimpered slightly. He tore the shirt in half, ripping it off of the many cuts that criss-crossed the human's back before tossing it to the ground.

He used one hand to gently turn his leader–whose eyes had yet to open–and saw small tear-tracks through the grime on his face. Then Drax tore off the sleeves as well.

Quill's lip had scabbed over, and it stretched into a weak grimace.

"It is done." Drax said. "Now sit on the table and I will clean the cuts."

It was a long moment before Star-Lord answered him, nodding and opening his eyes at last. "Y-yeah … Okay." The human's voice was a rasp, and Drax felt anger fill him once more as he saw the extent of the wounds.

The whip had gouged rivets into the Terran's skin, and now they were bleeding freshly once more, the blood oozing out to cover the colorful bruises that spread across Star-Lord's tender flesh.

Quill hopped onto the table with a wince, turning his face away from Drax in continued embarrassment at what must have been his own perceived weakness.

"There is no shame in feeling pain. Emotions are not a weakness." Drax wet a cloth, and began to clean out the wounds, one by one. The human shuddered and winced under his touch, his entire frame trembling slightly as the Destroyer continued quietly. "I feel pain every day at the memory of the family that I lost. It is this pain that allows me to keep going, and I do not feel shame in it. I feel gratitude for the beautiful life that I once led, and the life that I am able to lead now."

"But I- hnnn- I thought y- you just wanted re- revenge …" Quill was stuttering, gasping in pain every few moments. "F- for what Than- ugh- what Thanos did …"

"I do desire vengeance. Yet if I did not feel the pain of my family, then I would not have the conviction to follow that purpose. To find Thanos and extract revenge for the loved ones that were so cruelly taken from me." A whimper escaped the Terran as Drax cleansed a deeper cut, and he finished thoughtfully. "Yet my purpose has been … distracted, of late."

"Wha- agh- what do you m- mean?" Quill's eyes found his, and he stopped his ministrations for a moment, thinking before he answered.

"Lately I have felt that my calling in life has truly changed. For years I have been called Drax the Destroyer, and this is who I am. But now I am also Drax the Guardian. I am a Guardian of the Galaxy."

"I- … I think killing Thanos i- is a pretty big part of guarding the g- galaxy …" Star-Lord offered as the Destroyer finally finished cleaning the cuts. He opened a jar of salve, preparing to cover the stinging wounds.

"Indeed. But I have found that I guard something far more precious than the galaxy, as Drax the Guardian." He could see the question in Quill's eyes, and smiled a little as he began to slather the wounds with the salve. "I guard my new family."

Drax was pleased to see the physical relief spread across his leader's face as he treated his wounds, and a slight smile stretched the Terran's lips. "Drax, you … you really are the ultimate family man. Ya'know that?"

"As I have said, Star-Lord." The Kylosian stopped his ministrations to put his hand on Quill's shoulder, emphasizing his point. "There is no shame in feeling pain or emotions. I care for my family very deeply. And now, the Guardians are my family." He began rubbing the salve into the human's forearms as he concluded. "You are my family."

There was a long stretch of absolute silence, and Drax was glad to see that the Terran appeared almost sleepy after his abrupt relief from pain.

"Thanks, Drax."

"You are most welcome, Star-Lord."

He bandaged the wounds then, finding it to be the easiest part of his job. By the time he finished, Quill's eyes had slipped closed, and his breathing was beginning to deepen. He pulled off the guard's boots, revealing the human's damaged feet, and quickly treated those next.

Drax checked his leader's face last, cleaning it off gently as he laid him on the table. It was a good sign that the pain from his back elicited only a small wince when Quill's newly bandaged torso made contact with the hard metal.

The Destroyer easily identified the bloody lump on the back of Star-Lord's head, and knew that the Terran had most likely sustained a small concussion. He rubbed some salve over it carefully, and then picked up the sleeping human.

He put him back in his bed, leaving the clothes next to it after making Quill as comfortable as possible. Truly the Terran had been through quite an ordeal at the hands of the RSR.

Drax left his leader to sleep, knowing that they had a little over half an hour before they would arrive at their destination.

He cleaned up the bloody rags and wiped off the table, feeling the familiar anger burning in his veins as he thought of the atrocities that his family had been subjected to.

For Drax, the pain would never end. His wife and daughter had been brutally murdered before his eyes, and it was a sight that he could never un-see. Yet Drax was glad for the pain of their memories. He was glad to think of them.

He would always pay tribute to Hovat and Kamaria.

But the Kylosian would not lose another family this way. He would not have more pain like this in his chest.

Truly, he hoped that Korath had not hurt Gamora as the RSR had abused Quill. If so, the Son of Thanos would suffer a very long death.

Drax was certain that Quill would agree.

Chapter Text

Time seemed to crawl as they traveled towards Korath's last known location and Gamora's rescue. Drax filled it by sharpening and cleaning his weapons. He was impatient, but also pleased that Star-Lord would receive more rest before the upcoming fight.

The Destroyer was not prone to worrying needlessly before battles, but there was a small fear rooted deeply in his heart, telling him that perhaps Gamora would not be all right.

In his anger, Korath was more than capable of killing his own so-called sister, and the thought that she could be dead …

No.

Drax refused to consider it. It was too devastating. Not only for him, but for the rest of the team, not to mention what it would do to Quill.

The Milano moved easily through space, and the Kylosian made certain to be aware of what was around them at all times. He knew that if he wasn't careful, they could run into their enemies unexpectedly and have quite a battle to fight as a result.

Normally, a large battle did not worry the Destroyer, but with Quill in his current state and the absence of the other Guardians, Drax knew it would be wise to move with more subtlety. He would be glad when everything was over, and he could attack in his frontal manner once again.

The only sound on the ship was the quiet hum of machinery, and though Drax found it soothing, he missed the jovial sounds of Terran music that normally assaulted them before an important battle.

Not only because it–for some inexplicable reason–lifted his spirits, but because it normally meant that Quill was in a good mood. It meant that all was well.

Drax knew that all was not well.

Gamora was possibly injured (definitely not dead) on Korath's ship, Rocket and Groot were both in glass cells in the Collector's collection, and Star-Lord was most definitely injured.

It was as though the Galaxy were trying to take away his family once more. Drax knew that it could not be so, but he would not forget about the informant on Xandar. After he gathered his family, he would find the man who had almost taken them from him again, and he would kill him. Slowly.

It was in this way that the Destroyer was thinking when Quill rushed in. "Drax! Dude! I totally forgot to tell you to cloak us when we got close!" Though the human had his normal pants and boots on once more, he was still shirtless, displaying all of the stark white bandages against his flushed skin. "We can't let Korath know we're coming!"

"Star-Lord, you should not be running around in this manner!" The Kylosian surged to his feet even as the Terran reached the pilot's console on the bridge, swiftly cloaking the Milano once more.

"I'm fine, Drax." Quill spared him a grin, but it faltered when he caught sight of the Destroyer's expression. "I … okay. I- ..." His face flushed and his eyes darted away, "I can't get the shirt on, and my feet hurt like hell. There, I said it. Happy?"

Drax ignored the metaphor, merely sighing long-sufferingly. "I am not happy that you are in pain. I will help you with your clothing, but you must not overtax yourself before we rescue friend Gamora.

"I know." Star-Lord glared at the Kylosian for a moment, and before either of them had the chance to speak, the ship's monitor bleeped impatiently. "Already?" The human was in his seat before Drax had the time to react, scanning the space around them as he slowed the ship down.

"We have arrived?" The Destroyer took the seat at the side of Star-Lord's, looking intently out into the inky black that surrounded them, attempting to pinpoint anything that looked remotely like a ship.

"Damn." Quill slowed the ship down even more. "That is a huge asteroid field."

He said it even as Drax's eyes settled on the same thing that his leader was looking at. The Kylosian had to agree with the human's assessment. "Korath's ship is within these rocks?"

"Mmmm …" Star-Lord was poking madly at his monitor, muttering a little before making a small hissing sound as he released air from between his teeth. "Nnnope. Looks like he's on the other side." The Terran appeared to be thinking hard, his brow furrowed. "It would take us forever to go around it, and by the time we do, Korath could be long gone …"

"Then we must go through it!" The Kylosian could see the determined expression forming on Quill's face, and felt a smile splitting his lips that the human mirrored, giving Drax a sly, sidelong look before shrugging.

"If we must."

The Kylosian threw his head back, letting loose a long laugh before sitting back in his seat. "Korath will not see us coming."

"Not from here, anyway. Especially not if we're cloaked." Star-Lord's smile stayed on his face as he smoothly took control of the ship, speeding up to fly through the many rocks.

Quill's hands had luckily been spared most of the damage that he had received, and so it was with minimal pain that the human grasped the controls, toggling something on his monitor screen as the ship entered the field.

Music began to filter through the speakers, and Drax smiled. Quill had chosen one of the Destroyer's personal favorites.

Tonight, I'm gonna have myseeelf … a real good time. I feel ali-iii-iii-iive!

The Kylosian could only laugh as his stomach began to float with the ship, dropping and tugging with the artificial gravity and the pull on his limbs, while boulders flew by on either side of them.

… so, don't. Stop. Me. Now … Don't. Stop. Me- 'cause I'm havin' a good time, havin' a good time!

The Destroyer didn't approve much of dancing, but he could feel the ship doing it under his leader's guidance, dodging and shooting rocks with the fast moving rhythm of the song. It was an impressive feat, especially when considering the Terran's current physical state.

Drax would certainly never admit it to anyone, but the movement of the ship–combined with the song–filled him with an elation that could not be described. It would not cause him to dance and wiggle in a pathetic manner, but the Kylosian could understand why Quill chose to do such a thing.

I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah! Two hundred degrees that's why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit! I'm travelin' at the speed of light!

"I wanna make a supersonic man outta you!" The human's voice was not quite as pleasing as that of the recording, but to Drax, it was the most beautiful thing that he had heard in quite some time.

Quill's music always told how the Terran was feeling, and to the Kylosian, this song felt like confidence.

Like victory.

Like an atom bomb! About to whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh explode!

The Milano bobbed easily between the rocks that floated around them, reminding the Destroyer of the stitching that his wife would do when he inevitably tore his pants. Star-Lord didn't hit any of the asteroids, a manic grin on his face while sang as loudly as his forceful lungs would permit.

Drax merely laughed. Korath did not stand a chance against them. They were the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Don't stop me now! Don't stop me now! No I don't wanna stop at aa-aahll … Laaa, da-da da da daaaa …

The man didn't sing any words as he finished his song, merely voicing gibberish as the asteroids began to thin out around the Milano. Drax considered it most appropriate as they exited the field of stones, Star-Lord releasing a sigh that swiftly turned into a chuckle.

"Man, I love that song …" The Terran was perspiring slightly from his exertion, and gave the Kylosian a sidelong grin of pure joy.

"I, too, approve. We will not be stopped now." Drax nodded. "We will rescue our friends, and then we will find the one responsible for this trap. I shall have my revenge on him for what he has done!"

"Yeah," Quill began fiddling with the controls again, scanning space as he sped the ship towards the coordinates given to them by Nova Prime. "I think we'll all want to find this guy."

Another song began to play in the background, sounding much smoother than the first. Drax recognized it as the one that spoke of yoga and champagne.

"Huh. Looks like we're comin' up on another planet." Star-Lord's fingers flew over the controls, pulling up an image with an accompanying name. "Jilaa. Huh. Never heard of it, but apparently it's mainly used for farming. Pretty backwater."

"Why would the water on its backside be beautiful?" Drax was sure that Star-Lord had been employing a metaphor, but he wasn't looking for an explanation when he asked the question.

"Water on its-?" Quill's eyes widened as he understood the question, and then he burst out laughing, just as Drax had desired. "No …" The human was wheezing, "Metaphor, buddy. Metaphor!"

Drax knew that his lack of understanding when it came to idioms was amusing to the others, and he knew that laughter would help the Terran relax. "Ah. Your metaphors do not make any sense."

"I know they don't, dude." The laughter was still in Quill's voice, and his eyes twinkled when he looked at the Destroyer. "One day, I'm sure you'll catch on."

"And when I do, I shall never let go." Drax smiled back as the Milano neared the planet, Star-Lord's chuckles punctuating the music that still played in the back.

It was only moments later that they came around the curve of the green and blue atmosphere, revealing a ship in the distance. Quill cut the music, checking their cloak as Drax pointed. "Is that not Korath's ship?"

Star-Lord's voice was filled with tension when he responded. "Unless he got a new one, which I doubt, I'm pretty sure we just found Gamora."

"Then let us go rescue her!" Drax felt his own doubts from before coming back to the fore of his mind. "If he has harmed friend Gamora, I will remove his spine!"

Quill sped the Milano towards Korath's slightly larger vessel, and the Destroyer distinctly heard him mutter, "Not if I do it first."

Chapter Text

Korath's ship wasn't very large, considering his role as Thanos's son, yet Drax knew from experience that it was very powerful.

Star-Lord flew them in quietly, neither of them speaking, though logically their voices could not penetrate the dead of space. They maneuvered expertly, and Quill stopped the Milano right over the ship, leaving it cloaked as he stood up. "Okay. Let's go get Gamora."

"Agreed." Drax said it loudly, and Star-Lord shot him a glare as they quickly left the ship, Drax donning a breathing apparatus as he went. They floated carefully down to the nearest airlock door, and Quill hacked in, opening it for them before they both entered. "Is it wise to leave the Milano unattended?"

"Eh, it'll probably be fine." The Terran didn't look at him as he opened the next set of doors, prompting Drax to disbelieve his confident words. "Let's just get Gamora and kill Korath."

They both ran into the room, weapons at the ready for any guards that they would meet, but it was the Destroyer who spoke first. "It is empty."

"Weird." Quill agreed, not holstering his weapon, but cocking his arm back as he surveyed the room. "You'd think there'd be more people."

"Perhaps they are relieving themselves."

"All at the same time?" Star-Lord deactivated his mask, giving full view of his skeptically raised eyebrow.

"I am merely speculating."

"Yeah, well, speculate on the way. I'm not gonna complain if they don't show up to stop us." Quill jogged from the room, the doors sliding open for him while Drax followed, his eyes zeroing in on the way the Terran moved his feet. He was obviously still in considerable pain.

It was fortunate that they had been aboard Korath's ship so many times. It made it much simpler to navigate, and Drax recognized the recent repairs on several walls that they had downed on earlier visits.

The first three halls that they entered were empty, and when they found that the fourth was as well, Star-Lord stopped, panting slightly as he looked back to the Destroyer in confusion. "Where is everybody?"

"I do not know." They Kylosian said it honestly; worry flitting through his mind as he thought of the ambush on Sulayii. "But perhaps it would be best if we proceeded more cautiously."

Quill looked at him as though Drax had suddenly grown another head, and then his eyes narrowed marginally. "You don't think it's a trap, do you?"

"Korath may be expecting us." The Destroyer didn't want the human to worry more than he already was, and so he didn't say that he suspected the same person as before. Star-Lord merely appeared thoughtful.

"Let's head to the bridge instead of the brig. Maybe we can catch Korath off-guard." Quill was already moving as he said it, and Drax followed, hoping that it would be so. The Destroyer refused to lose the family that he had so recently retrieved, especially to another cowardly ambush.

Two more empty hallways, and they were entering the bridge. There were two figures in the middle, and both of them turned with a start. Easily recognizable as Korath's men, they drew their weapons with twin shouts of alarm, beginning to shoot immediately.

Drax easily dispatched one of them with a flying knife, and Quill's shout was the only thing that prevented him from throwing the other across the room. "Don't kill him!"

Both the Destroyer and the guard looked over at the human in confusion, not understanding the order, with the alien making occasional choking sounds from Drax's hand on his throat.

"Where is Gamora?" Star-Lord neared slowly, and the alien trembled in Drax's grip, making a small choking sound.

"And where is Korath?" The Kylosian squeezed a little tighter, and the guard's eyes bugged a little.

"Drax, he can't talk if you don't let him go."

Drax did let go, dropping the alien onto the floor unceremoniously, leaving him gasping for a moment before he looked up, eyes filled with fear. "P-please, don't kill me, I just- … I'm just in charge of the ship while Korath's gone!"

"Where?" Quill crouched down, and his face contorted with pain for a moment.

"He's- we- He bought his sister, to bring back as a trophy for Th- Thanos, but she escaped and st- stole a pod-"

"Gamora escaped?" Star-Lord's voice was fervent, and his fingers were twitching.

"Yes!" The guard leaned away from the practically manic human as Drax decided that Quill needed far more sleep. "She took the pod to Jilaa, and Korath followed her with his forces!"

"Why did he leave his ship so vulnerable?" Drax was genuinely curious. "He left only you to guard it."

"He is Korath, Son of Thanos." The guard seemed to be regaining his nerve, and spoke far more calmly. "The Mad Titan would be very displeased if- if he did not bring Gamora back, and the only way he could would be with all of his men. He did not think that anyone would be foolish enough to attack his ship."

"We are foolish enough!" Drax growled, now realizing that Quill was not the only one desperate enough to leave his ship unmanned. It was a pity that Korath could not cloak his.

"Well, actually …" The guard stood slowly, his voice adopting a confidence that it had lacked entirely only moments before, "Korath did think that someone might show up, so while I appreciate you not killing me, you both made a grave mistake."

It was all the warning that they had before their world exploded. The blast from the gun threw them both back, Star-Lord hitting the wall and then the floor while Drax smacked into the window of the bridge, cracking it while also cutting his back. "Quill!"

The Destroyer looked up to see the guard brandishing his large gun over the human's limp body, and he quickly finished what he hadn't been able to before, throwing his knife and watching the gun hit the floor.

The Kylosian stood, feeling the ache in his back where it had hit, and kicking the blaster away from the dead guard as he passed. "Star-Lord." He started to kneel next to the Terran, only for Quill to sit up with a groan.

"Krutack … gahh …" The human blinked blearily at the Destroyer for a moment. "Okay, so ... so I'm glad he's dead. He had me be- believing his scared act for a second there … and of course Gamora isn't here …" Quill sighed through his nose. "I think I might hurl."

"He attacked us dishonorably, yet now we know that Gamora is on the planet." Drax offered a hand to his leader, pulling him to his wobbly feet. "Are you injured?"

"Nothin' I won't survive." The Terran took a moment to regain his balance, sparing a glare for the guard on the floor where Drax had left him, and the Destroyer retrieved his knife as Quill neared the console equipment. "Flarg! He sent a distress signal. Korath will know we're coming!"

"Then we must go quickly." Drax started to leave, but stopped as he watched Star-Lord begin working on the terminal. "What are you doing?"

"Seeing if I can't make Korath's life a little more miserable." Quill's fingers were flying, and lights were flashing, leaving the Kylosian confused as to what was happening. "He made a bet that no one would be nearby, and that if they were, they wouldn't attack a Son of Thanos." The Terran turned to grin, "It was a bad call."

"How could we make his life more miserable?" Drax now noticed the blood that was oozing once more from the back of Quill's head, but chose to ignore it in favor of hearing the answer.

"I'm overloading his engines, so if he wants to keep his ship, he's gotta come back within the next two hours, or it'll go boom."

"I was not aware that you were capable of such a feat, Star-Lord." Drax was surprised, having thought that only Rocket or Groot could do something like that, but the human shook his head.

"Rocket has made it pretty clear what I shouldn't do to an engine, so it's not that hard, and hacking into other people's stuff? That was my job before I was a Guardian." Quill turned then, nodding at the Destroyer, "Now let's get out of here before Gamora decides to kill Korath all by herself."

"That would be lamentable." Drax followed the jogging human, keeping an eye out for his leader's balance, should he fall. "I wish to fight him." They made their way to the airlock with no contest, and Quill got it open once more.

They quickly donned their masks, exiting Korath's ship and floating back into their own smoothly, then Star-Lord took the controls once more.

"All right. Let's go get Gamora. … For real, this time."

"It has been real all along." Drax was confused by the human's statement.

"Drax …" Quill shot him a rueful look, "Considering how these last two days have gone, I'm sorry you're right."

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before they were within the planet’s atmosphere, Quill keeping the Milano under its cloak as they knew Korath would be ready for them to appear.

Jilaa was mostly green, and it became obvious as to why when they neared the planet, revealing the leafy canopy of the rolling jungles below. “Oh man, how are we gonna find Gamora in that?”

“I think that the green of the foliage is sufficiently dissimilar to friend Gamora’s skin for us to easily distinguish between the two of them.”

“Not what I meant, Drax.” Quill sighed in what the Destroyer recognized as exasperation. “I mean she could be anywhere on the planet, and she probably ditched her pod as soon as she could, so Korath couldn’t track her.”

“Then she is on foot.” Drax put his hand to his chin, now understanding the dilemma. He glanced at Star-Lord, seeing that Quill was flying with one hand as he ran scans with the other. “It is probable that Korath is near where she left the pod.”

Silence followed his statement, and then the human glanced at him, “So if we find Korath …”

“We will likely find Gamora.” The Destroyer nodded.

“Well,” Star-Lord shrugged, speeding up to widen their search. “It’s as good a plan as any.” It went unspoken that the Son of Thanos would not be trying to hide, and as a result would be far easier to find.

The Milano zipped over the jungle, leaving the ground looking more like a green blur than leaves from their height. Several minutes passed like this before Star-Lord yawned, the ship dipping as he closed his eyes for a moment, and then they continued as they had before.

Drax attempted to ignore it, knowing that the human could not afford to sleep during the search, as he was the best pilot they currently had. Yet when Quill repeated the action twice more, the Kylosian frowned at him, attempting to decide if he could fly the Milano without Star-Lord’s assistance.

“Hey, Drax, you could always take a holo-pic, you know they last longer.” The Terran gave him an annoyed glance, and the Destroyer deepened his frown.

“Quill, you are not well. I do not wish to crash because you fell asleep while piloting.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep, dude.” Star-Lord stifled another yawn, glaring at Drax while he did it, as though daring him to comment. “Let’s just focus on finding Gamora, okay?”

“I am focused.” The Destroyer worried that Quill’s head injury had worsened; the human was normally far more astute when it came to flying than he was being now. “I believe I see a disturbance in the distance.” Drax pointed out the front window at the explosions on the edge of the horizon, and Star-Lord’s eyes widened before he glanced at his screen in surprise. He then swiftly changed course, flying at top speed towards what were now recognizable as several small pods.

“Krutack. That a-hole on his ship was right; Korath brought his whole flarkin’ army down here!” Star-Lord slowed down considerably to observe. Eight pods were hovering around just over the canopy of the jungle, occasionally shooting blasts at random areas. It was clear that they did not know Gamora’s exact location.

Through the gaps between the leaves, the men on the ground were apparent, laser-cannons in their hands as they chased down the Daughter of Thanos.

“Gamora is in danger!” Drax stood from his seat. “I will go find her, and then I will bring her back.”

“Whaddaya mean, you’ll go find her?” Star-Lord’s voice took on a dangerous tone as he lowered the Milano through a hole in the canopy, a safe distance from Korath’s army. “I’m coming with you.”

“Star-Lord, you are not-” Drax began, knowing how his leader felt about Gamora, only for the human to defiantly park the ship, letting it float several feet above the forest floor.

“I really am.” Quill stood out of his seat, clutching the back of it for a moment as he put his full weight on his abused feet.

“Peter Quill.” Drax said the Terran’s name forcefully, and immediately had the human’s bleary gaze on him. “You will not leave this ship to put yourself into the path of danger once more. I will not allow it!”

“And who put you in charge?” Star-Lord’s shoulders were taught, his eyes on fire. He took a step forward, as though daring the Destroyer to answer him.

“I did, when my new family was captured and abused at the hands of my enemies.” Drax spoke frankly.

For a long moment, they merely looked at one another, and then Quill sighed, his body relaxing. “You shouldn’t just run out there, Drax, there are way too many of them to go alone. They’re expecting us anyway, so I’ll draw them off in the Milano. You should have a better chance at finding Gamora then…” It was clear that the human was reluctant to give up, and he looked the Destroyer right in the eyes as he practically pleaded. “Signal me when you find her.”

Drax could see the desperation in the Terran’s gaze, and he put his hand firmly on Quill’s slumped shoulder, making it a promise. “I will bring her back, Star-Lord.”

“I- … I know Drax.” Quill sat back down, the pain on his face clearing slightly as he got off his feet. “Just … be careful.”

“Drax the Destroyer is always careful!” The Kylosian spoke jubilantly while he left the bridge, ignoring Star-Lord’s snort at his declaration as he sheathed his knives, dropping into the underbrush only moments later. He could hear the quiet hum of the Milano above him for a few seconds before it left, quickly leaving him alone.

The Destroyer almost immediately heard the distinct sound of Quill’s Terran music from above him, and then the sound of blasters firing. Korath had been expecting them, and must have been ready for their appearance.

… Zoo time, is she and you time? The mammals are your favorite type and you want her, tonight …

Now he only had to find Gamora.

Drax had been raised on a planet with large, strange trees, though there had not been quite as many. So it was with natural ease that the Kylosian climbed one of them, the fact that they were closer together making it easier to move between the branches, leaving him a clear path.

He began to run through the jungle, listening to the distant sounds of Korath’s men and Star-Lord’s dogfight far above him. From the distance came the distinct sound of an explosion, and Drax knew that Quill probably taken down one of the pods.

… This town ain’t big enough for the both of us!

The Destroyer ran as close to Korath’s front line as he dared, and then crouched down, spreading his legs to grip the branch beneath him in his hands as he leaned forward to look. Korath was beneath him, anger on his face and orders spewing from his mouth as the Son of Thanos attempted to gather his men against the new threat.

Drax watched as the guards fired, moving slowly away from his position as they were drawn out by Quill. Through the leaves of the canopy, Drax could see the fight above him, and he smiled when he saw that the human was clearly the best pilot in the sky.

… Flying, domestic flying, and when the stewardess is near do not show any fear …

The Kylosian now had his opening, and he turned to face the other direction, staying as silent as possible, though he wanted nothing more than to rush out and dispatch all of the guards. He could hear Quill’s voice in the distance over the speakers of the Milano, no doubt annoying Korath more than attempting to reason with him.

Drax’s need for movement was beginning to strain his body, and he hoped that his leader would not be so foolish as to get caught. The Destroyer still wanted to help, but knew that finding Gamora was the most important thing he could do for his family right then.

… Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat …

So the Kylosian sat as still as he possibly could, surveying the jungle before him quietly, watching for any movement at all. It was several minutes before he was rewarded, and Drax could feel his tense muscles beginning to cramp as his eyes zeroed in on a small movement.

It was slow, labored, and it took the Destroyer a long moment to recognize what he was looking at as Gamora’s arm. The green appendage was mottled several different colors, making it practically invisible against the carpet of foliage on the jungle floor.

Gamora had been hiding in the underbrush, her skin helping her to blend in quite well, and when her head came up, Drax saw that her hair was filled with dirt, leaves and twigs, effectively hiding the incongruous colors within.

… As twenty cannibals have hold of you, they need their protein just like you do …

She stumbled to her feet, dirt crumbling away from her body as she stood, and it was then that Drax noticed the odd angle of her leg. Gamora looked around the clearing, and then he saw her limp quickly towards one of the trees, clearly intending to climb it, obviously having recognized the music from the Milano.

Drax ran quietly along the branches of the canopy, feeling the burning anger from before consume his heart as he observed her feeble attempts to climb to safety.

What had Korath done to her?

The sounds of the battle behind him were getting ever farther away, and Drax realized that Quill must have somehow fooled Korath into seeing him as a greater target. This meant that Gamora was much safer, but that Star-Lord was in danger once again.

… And it ain’t me who’s gonna leave!

The Kylosian dropped out of the tree only a few meters from Gamora, calling her name as he did so. “Gamora!”

To his surprise, she nearly lost her balance at once, gripping the tree next to her for support as her wide eyes met Drax’s, her other hand reaching for a blade that she no longer had with her.

Gamora still managed to defend herself, and a rock flew at the Destroyer, kicked viciously by her good foot. Drax allowed it to bounce off of his chest as he neared. “Gamora, I am here to rescue you! Quill is distracting Korath!”

“Drax?” The Zehoberei assassin seemed to be in shock, and now that Drax was closer he could see the many small contusions on her body, all oozing green blood. “What are- how did you get here?”

… Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat …

“We will have much more time for me to explain when we are back on the Milano.” Drax soothed, seeing that she was on the verge of collapse. His vendetta against Korath became more solidified as he saw the cuts that covered her body, along with a dark bruise where her slave collar had once rested. He quickly pressed the comm link on his ear, speaking fervently. “Quill, I have found her.”

“Is she okay?!” The human’s voice was frantic, competing loudly with his music that still blared in the background. “Drax! Is Gamora all right?!”

Gamora had been near enough to catch the question, and her shock had apparently begun to wear off, since she leaned closer to growl. “Just come pick us up, Quill!”

… This town ain’t big enough for the both of us!

“Right! Right!” There was the sound of a small explosion, and a yelp from Star-Lord before he replied. “Sit tight, I’m on my way!”

The link was cut before Drax could question the metaphor, and he looked uneasily at Gamora. “We should move to a place where Quill can more easily retrieve us.”

… Census, the latest census …

“Pick me up, and I’ll gut you.” Gamora seemed to be able to tell what Drax had been considering, and the Kylosian nodded towards her leg.

“You are injured, friend Gamora. Allow me to help.”

… Heartbeat, increasing heartbeat …

“That looks like a good spot.” The assassin ignored him to point at a lighter patch of jungle not more than 300 meters away. Then she began to limp towards it, leaving the Destroyer to follow close behind, ready to help if she needed it.

He had his chance only a moment later, when Korath’s shout came from behind them. “Gamora!! I know you are still here!” With the end of Quill’s distraction, Korath’s attention had returned to its original target.

… This town isn’t big enough, not big enough for both of us!

“Krutack.” The Zehoberei muttered, attempting to speed up and immediately slipping. Drax picked her up easily, mindful of her bad leg as he ran towards the spot. Gamora wriggled in his grip for about two seconds before growling, “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you, Drax.”

“Haste is necessary, friend Gamora.” The Kylosian reached the clearing, and set her down gently. Now they only had to wait, but Korath was getting closer by the second, his shouts and threats dangerously near. The deafening Terran music was nearing them at an alarming speed, and since nothing was visible it was easy to assume that the Milano was once again cloaked.

Two pods were attempting to follow the noisy invisible ship, but seemed to have trouble pinpointing it, since their shots never hit anything.

… I ain’t gon-na leeeeeave!

A quiet hum came became audible above them just as the song ended with a shriek and the Son of Thanos ran into view. “NO!” He sprinted towards them, and Drax threw Gamora into the hole that appeared in the air above them before leaping in as well, hearing the ships blasters fire on Korath.

“Quill, go!”

The Milano took off at full power, the door barely closing behind them as the ship rocketed straight up, the music blessedly silent at last.

Drax sat against the wall, the anger in his chest still burning as he looked at his newly retrieved friend. Gamora’s eyes were closed, her chest heaving with exertion. Drax’s desire to kill Korath grew exponentially, and yet he knew that they could not afford to go back.

Hopefully Star-Lord had hit him.

“Gamora!” Quill descended from the bridge quickly enough that he almost tripped, and Drax immediately noted that his mask was activated, hiding his face. “Gamora! What- … what happened to you?!”

The assassin took a long moment to answer, her eyes still closed, but her voice was smooth when she spoke. “Korath bought me. I escaped when I could, stole a pod, and crashed it on that planet.”

“Ah. This explains much.” Drax nodded. “Did you break your leg in the crash?”

“You broke your leg?!” Quill slumped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering, as though he weren’t certain what to do.

“Korath broke my leg after he bought me, to keep me from escaping.” Gamora opened her eyes to look at Drax, but her gaze slipped to Quill and an eyebrow quirked. “Why are you wearing your mask?”

“Korath broke your leg?” The Terran would not be deterred, though Drax wished to know why he was wearing his mask as well. Yet the Destroyer could relate to the anger in Star-Lord’s voice.

“After we have retrieved the rodent and the tree, we will return and I will kill Korath.”

“Get in line, dude.” Quill growled, his voice tinny from within his mask. He sighed immediately after. “But first we gotta set that leg …”

“I can do it myself.” Gamora began to sit up, and Drax stopped her.

“Friend Gamora. Allow us to help you. You are injured.”

The Most Dangerous Woman in the Galaxy was silent for a long moment, and then she sighed angrily. “Where are Rocket and Groot.” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t denial of Drax’s request, either, and the Destroyer took it as his cue to pick her up gently, feeling the strain of his abused muscles and the cuts on his back as he stood.

“The Collector bought them.” Quill followed just behind as the Kylosian laid her on the table in the center of the room.

“What?” Gamora’s snap made the human jump, and Drax calmly felt along her left leg, causing her to grimace as Star-Lord answered quickly.

“Don’t worry, we’re heading there now. We’ll get ‘em, G.”

“Just as we rescued you.” Drax gave her an apologetic look before applying the pressure needed to set her leg. It made a popping sound as it went back into place, and her face paled as she sucked in a small gasp of air.

“Whoa, Drax! A little warning would be nice!” Quill’s hands had been hovering the whole time, and now he twitched back a little in surprise. Drax merely shrugged, having now discerned that the human was hiding his own abuse from Gamora with his mask.

“A warning would not have lessened the pain.”

“Maybe not, but-!”

“Peter.” Gamora’s lips had turned at the corners with a small smile, her hand gripping Star-Lord’s wrist to quiet him as she looked between them almost fondly. Her eyes finally settled on the Destroyer’s and she nodded slightly. “Thank you, Drax.”

“You are welcome.”

Chapter Text

Drax was relieved to discover that the majority of Gamora’s cuts were superficial, her leg being the worst injury, leaving her far more than capable of treating herself. She sat on the table rubbing salve into the wounds, stitching and wrapping the worst ones.

The Destroyer had torn a rod from the wall–much to Quill’s horror–using it to splint Gamora’s leg efficiently so that it could heal correctly. Drax had ignored their leader’s whines and threats that Rocket would get mad at them, but their recently rescued assassin had given a small smile, clearly happy to be home.

Star-Lord uncharacteristically excused himself immediately after, saying that he was going to make sure they caught up to the Collector as fast as possible. Gamora raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as the human left. It was only after he was gone that she turned to the Destroyer. “Drax, what’s wrong with Quill?”

Normally the honest Kylosian would have told her exactly what was troubling the human, but something stopped him from doing so this time. Quill clearly did not wish her to know, and Drax decided that it was a question better answered by the Terran himself.

The Destroyer had no desire to become another reason for the two of them to argue, as they were very prone to doing.

He removed the rodent’s storage vial from its compartment, spewing its contents out onto the table next to his green-skinned friend. Gamora immediately picked up her sword and then slid from the table, standing heavily on her good leg. “Drax.”

“Quill was not bought, and I rescued him from the Slavery Ring.” It was as much as Drax was willing to say, looking the Zehoberei right in the eyes while he spoke.

Gamora was silent for a moment, holding his gaze with her dark eyes, and then she nodded. “I’m going to go change. Call me if we get there.” She limped from the room, leaving the Kylosian to treat his own wounds.

Drax couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face as he rubbed the salve into his small cuts and bruises, realizing that he’d now accomplished half of his mission. He had Gamora and Quill back, leaving only Rocket and Groot before he’d have his family complete once more.

The Destroyer reflected that it was a good thing Gamora was back. He enjoyed spending time with Quill, but knew that the human would more easily heed Gamora’s advice than his own.

It reminded him of Kamaria, insisting that her mother knew better than her father. It had amused Hovat to no end, knowing that she had more sway over their daughter’s choices than Drax, even though Kamaria wanted to be, “just like Papa!”

Drax felt his smile become heavy, yet he refused to let it become a frown. He had failed his family. He could still fail his family again, and the thought that they might lose Rocket or Groot made the smile all that much harder to hold up.

The Kylosian rubbed the salve into a bruise on his shoulder with more force than was really necessary, only slowing when Gamora reentered the room. “Drax?” Her eyes were narrowed, and if he hadn’t known her better, he’d have assumed that she was angry with him. Now, after so many months in her company, he recognized it as her expression of worry. “Are you all right?”

“My wounds are not life-threatening.” Drax knew that it wasn’t what she had asked, but he didn’t feel up to disclosing his personal thoughts. He could see that she truly had cleaned herself up, taking off the splint to do so. She had obviously put it back on herself, as it was far tighter than before.

“Drax …” Gamora limped over to him, her freshly clean hair shining in the Milano’s artificial light. “You saved me, and you saved Quill, too.” She made no movement to touch him, but the Destroyer could feel the warmth of 1,000 hugs in her gaze. “You didn’t fail anyone.”

How had she known what he was thinking? Drax’s surprise must have shown in his face, because Gamora gave a rare smile.

“Groot and Rocket are going to be fine. We’re going to save them too, and we’ll kill anyone who gets in the way.” The Zehoberei assassin could be remarkably perceptive when she wanted to be, and she finished quite frankly. “Because we’re family.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, filling the space as warmly as a cozy fire. It was a long moment before Drax worked up the courage to reply, angry at his own cowardice while his eyes focused in on the now-wilted flower petals on the floor. “After my family was taken from me, I did not think I would get another chance.” He met Gamora’s gaze. “I have never been more pleased to be proven wrong.”

“I don’t think any of us expected this chance.” She stood from the table then, her voice filled with the same emotion that Drax couldn’t seem to correctly express as her eyes darted away. They flicked back to meet his as she continued. “But I am grateful. I’m … I’m certain you were a good father.”

“As I am certain that you were a good daughter.” Drax got off the table to stand next to her, an understanding passing between them. Gamora’s smile didn’t leave as she began to limp to the cockpit, but Drax could see the color of her cheeks darkening.

The Kylosian followed her up onto the bridge, and immediately spotted Quill in his seat at the front. His hands weren’t on the controls, making it clear from the movement of the ship that they were on autopilot.

Star-Lord’s mask was still activated, and Gamora sighed quietly as she limped up to take the copilot’s seat.

Quill didn’t move.

Drax took his own seat in the back as Gamora asked. “Okay, Star-Lord, how close are we to the Collector?” The smile in her voice was clear and the Kylosian watched carefully, also wanting to know how much time they had before his family could become complete once more.

No answer came from the human, however, and the Destroyer could only look on as Gamora turned to fully face the Terran, prodding with one eyebrow up, “Quill?”

A response never came.

The assassin stood back up out of her seat, her voice taking on a slightly different tone as she neared their leader. “Peter?”

“I believe he is asleep.” Drax found himself standing as well, walking towards his two teammates as he spoke. Gamora’s eyes snapped over to meet the Destroyer’s, clearly confused as to why the human would fall asleep at such a critical time. Star-Lord had many faults, but sleeping during a crisis wasn’t normally one of them.

“Drax, what happened?” A tension had entered her voice now, and Drax knew that he could no longer avoid telling the truth.

“I believe that Quill did not wish to worry you, but after the auction where you were sold, the RSR punished him physically.” The Destroyer didn’t hesitate to continue, his eyes never leaving Gamora’s rapidly darkening face. “He suffered many contusions, the majority on his back and the bottoms of his feet. I have reason to believe that he also has a small amount of head trauma. He is in need of this sleep.”

Drax wanted to tell the Zehoberei that she required rest as well, but he knew that it would not be taken very well at that moment in time. So instead, he reached over to the limp human, deactivating his mask to allow full view of his bruised and cut face.

Gamora gave a small gasp, but her expression was murderous. “When we’re done with the Collector, I’m going to kill them all myself.”

“I will help you.” Drax said frankly.

“Help with-” Quill’s eyes fluttered open sluggishly as he cracked a large yawn, “with what?” His bleary gaze settled on his two teammates slowly, and it was a long moment before his eyes widened in delayed alarm. “Crap! My mask!”

“Peter.” Gamora exuded a deadly calm, and grabbed Star-Lord’s wrist as he attempted to reach up to his ear, panic written in his expression. “Stop trying to hide it, Drax already told me what happened.”

The Terran’s face fell, his cheeks heating up a little as he scowled, his scabbed lip stretching strangely while he shot the Destroyer a glare. “’s not a big deal.”

“You fell asleep.”

“So I’m tired!” Quill attempted to pull his wrist from her grip, but Gamora didn’t let go. The human’s glare quickly changed targets, and he wriggled in her grip for a few more moments before she released him.

“Next time just tell me.” The Zehoberei’s green lips twisted into a slight smirk. “I know how to pilot the Milano too, you know.”

Quill huffed, massaging his wrist as he replied petulantly. “Yeah, but we have to get Groot and Rocket, and we have to find the mole in Nova Corps, and now we have to kill Korath-!”

“We also need to kill everyone in the RSR.” Gamora nodded, and Drax smiled to hear her agree, while Star-Lord’s head snapped up in confusion.

“What?”

“They will pay for what they have done to my family.” The Destroyer elaborated, Gamora immediately correcting him,

“Our family.”

There was a small silence before their Terran let out a huff of laughter. “I guess we’ve got a lot to do, huh?”

“We’ll find time.” Gamora leaned over slightly then, her face nearing the human’s as she spoke. “Now go sleep, Peter. I’ll keep us flying in the right direction.”

“Hey, you need sleep too, Gamora-” Quill’s eyes narrowed, and Gamora’s voice became hard.

“Now, Peter.”

Drax ignored the small argument, looking out the front window while his mind rested once again on thoughts of his wife and daughter. Gamora had told him that he hadn’t failed them; that he had been a good father.

“I’ll only go to sleep when you do!”

Perhaps, all that time ago, Drax had been a good father. Yet he had not been good enough to save his family.

“Peter, you’re acting like a child!”

“You have a broken leg!!”

Once again, everything in the Destroyer’s life had conspired to take his family from him. The RSR had beaten his leader almost to death, and the Son of Thanos had almost given Gamora to the Mad Titan herself, which she surely would not have survived.

“And you have a concussion-”

The rodent and the tree were both displays in Tivan’s collection, and the thought that he could still fail them filled Drax with ire.

“Your jerk-face brother literally snapped your leg in half, Gamora. I think-”

The only thing the Kylosian desired was to have his family back. To keep them safe from harm, as a fa-

… as a father should …

“Drax told me you were whipped-!”

The Kylosian suddenly realized that his duty as a father had not ended with the death of his daughter, and it was with renewed purpose that he turned to his arguing teammates to speak as forcefully as he could. “ENOUGH.”

His voice filled the small bridge, and both the Zehoberei and the Terran stopped to stare at him. “Our friends are prisoners of the Collector, and we stand here arguing.”

“Drax-”

“C’mon, man-”

“Both of you require rest.” The Destroyer would not be interrupted, knowing that the importance of their mission was the priority. “You may sleep here or in your quarters, but you will both sleep.” He crossed his arms, daring them to protest. “I will watch to make certain that we travel safely.”

Quill’s gaze darted away, a pout twisting his lips while Gamora put her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing. “No offense, Drax, but you’re not the best at guarding things.”

“It is as I have told Quill.” The Kylosian said, a light smile coming unbidden to his lips as he spoke. “I am Drax the Destroyer, but I am also Drax the Guardian.”

Gamora shared a look with Quill, and it was the human who finally shrugged. “Okay, fine. We should be there in about an hour and a half, so … wake me up in like an hour.”

“I can try to sleep, but I’m not promising anything.” Gamora said while Star-Lord stood from his seat, wincing at the pain in his feet.

“Try not to break the ship, Drax.” The Terran descended, apparently done with the conversation, leaving Gamora alone with the Destroyer.

Her hands were still on her hips, but a smile now graced her face. “You’d better wake us up when we get there.”

“I will do so.” Drax nodded. “You may rely on me.”

The Zehoberei’s hand placed itself on the Kylosian’s shoulder, her smile never leaving as she replied. “We know.”

Drax was still smiling, and for some inexplicable reason, it seemed much lighter than it had before, no longer weighing him down so much as … lifting him up.

It was this thought that made him realize that he needed to stop spending so much time around Quill and Rocket. Their strange turns of phrases were beginning to enter his mind.

Though all things considered, perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing.

Chapter Text

Star-Lord had been correct in his estimation of time. A little over an hour and a half had passed when the Collector’s ship registered on the Milano’s scanners, a bleep coming from the main console on the bridge.

Drax got to his feet immediately, leaving his bag of zarg nuts on the chair as he neared the front of the bridge to get a better look.

The Collector’s ship was massive, and having seen the inside, Drax knew it was to accommodate for the evil being’s purported collection. It appeared to be a fortress in the dead of space, all angles and sharp edges apart from the bottom. The tower-like structure was situated on piece of rock–where its exhaust ports were embedded–trails of flame shooting out from the holes to propel it forward.

Drax was–to use Quill’s term–a lousy pilot, but he was easily able to slow the Milano down without crashing it as they floated steadily towards the barely moving collection.

As their still cloaked vessel fell into the shadow of the larger one, Drax could more clearly see the metal fortress that they were facing. Small rivets of glowing energy ran up and criss-crossed each other on the face of its reflective surface, and the Kylosian couldn’t see an entrance.

The Destroyer hoped that the last two missing guardians would not be so injured as had been Gamora and Quill, even though he knew that the Collector was hardly known for torturing his specimens. He usually merely imprisoned creatures, but Drax knew that he was quite capable of malice if his collection was in any sort of jeopardy.

Drax also hoped that Rocket and Groot would be simple to find as he moved towards Quill’s monitor, trying to recall how the Terran used the Milano’s scanners. Perhaps it would give him a better chance at pinpointing their locations.

“You didn’t wake us up.” Gamora’s voice was as soft as steel, and Drax turned to regard her. She appeared more rested, though still held herself stiffly.

“You were awakened when I slowed the Milano?”

“I couldn’t really sleep.” The assassin replied honestly, limping forward to look at the fortress for herself.

Gamora sat down in the pilot’s chair, maneuvering the ship down towards the rocky base of the Collector’s vessel, her lips pursed in concentration. “We will need to blast our way in.” Drax observed, and she nodded.

“We’ll have to go as fast as possible. Get in and out quickly.”

“I will scour the entire fortress for our friends if need be.” The Kylosian leaned in beside Gamora, drawing his brows together in concentration, mentally noting that the Zehoberei seemed to be planning on leaving the ship with him. He doubted that he could convince her to stay. “Perhaps it would be best if we have Quill ready with the Milano, as he was when we retrieved you.”

“Go wake him up.” Gamora agreed, though her voice was sour. Clearly she did not want to deprive him of his much needed rest, and Drax felt much the same, though he left to do as she said.            

The Destroyer would make certain that his family had time to recover when they were all back. He would find the man responsible for the cowardly ambush on the Guardians of the Galaxy, and he would kill him so that his family could rest peacefully.

Drax arrived at Quill’s door quietly and pressed the button, watching as it hissed open immediately. The human was snoring lightly, splayed across the bed on his stomach (no doubt to spare himself more pain), still fully clothed. The Kylosian regretfully stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on his leader’s shoulder as he spoke firmly. “Quill, you must awaken.”

The Terran’s snore stuttered to a halt, and his mouth closed while his black eye slit open to meet the Destroyer’s gaze. A long sigh was exhaled through the human’s nose, and then he mumbled something unintelligible.

“I cannot understand you, Star-Lord, when you speak into your pillow.” Drax spoke patiently, quite suddenly thinking of how his daughter Kamaria would often act when ill.

“C- cnn’t R’ck’t ‘n Groo’ wait?” The human’s speech was slurred, and still half-muffled, but was now understandable.

“No, they cannot.” Drax spoke with a certainty that he felt in his very core. “You are needed, Star-Lord. Rest will come after.”

“Screw th’ Galaxy.” Quill’s eye scrunched shut again, and he flinched away from the pain that the tension on his bruised face caused.

“I do not believe that is physically po-”

“Metaphor.” The Terran’s tone made it clear that he had no patience.

“Quill, you must-”

“Okay, I’m comin’.” Star-Lord growled the words, and then wiggled his shoulder out from under Drax’s hand with a pained expression. The Destroyer–despite Quill’s protests–helped the human into a sitting position, careful to keep his touch gentle. “We’re already at the Collector’s ship?”

“Indeed.” Drax nodded, discreetly keeping his hand on the human’s arm when Quill wobbled onto his feet. “You are going to fly the Milano while Gamora and I retrieve our friends.”

As he had assumed, the Terran did not take the information well.

“Whoa- whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa!” Quill’s glare seemed to be having trouble focusing on the Kylosian, but it still sparked with anger. “I am not staying in the Milano again! And Gamora is in no shape to be running around!”

“You are the pilot, and we will require someone to help us escape when we have located the rodent and the tree.”

“Kay, first of all, it’s Rocket and Groot.” The human was clearly irritated if he was bringing the very old argument to the fore once more. Drax called his friends what they were, and he always had. He didn’t stop his leader, however, as Quill practically shook with anger. “Second; why does Gamora get to go?! She has a broken leg!”

“We need to retrieve our comrades quickly, and leave quickly as well.” Drax was exasperated, but knew that the human was not completely well. “We will need you in the Milano.”

“How is Gamora going to go faster than I would with a freaking broken leg?!”

The Kylosian instinctively knew that the true answer–that Gamora would most probably do it whether she should or not–would infuriate the human even more, and so he remained silent.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me!” The expressive Terran threw his arms up, his body reflecting his exasperation as powerfully as his voice. “You really think I’m that pathetic?!”

“It is as I have said, Star-Lord. You are required to pilot the ship if we wish to escape the small and numerous robots of the Collector.” Drax spoke patiently, knowing that yelling at the human would only incite him further.

“Gamora is the one with the broken leg.” Quill lowered his voice to growl. “She knows how to fly, too. She should be the one in the Milano.”

“Both of you are injured, and require rest.” The Kylosian agreed, wishing that he could convince them both to say. “But if you wish to leave in Gamora’s place, I believe you will have to fight her to do so.”

The Terran’s expression was stormy, and he continued to glare at Drax for a long moment before he nodded curtly, turning to stalk out the door.

Presumably he was going to fight Gamora.

The Kylosian sighed, deciding that Quill didn’t listen to the Zehoberei assassin more as Kamaria had listened to her mother.

In fact, the human didn’t seem to listen to anyone when he was concussed.

“Quill, we do not have the time for you to fight with Gamora!” Drax stepped out of the Terran’s quarters, his eyes scanning the empty room before him as he headed back towards the bridge. “Quill?”

There was no answer from the vocal human, and Drax shook his head. They needed to find Rocket and Groot, and his injured teammates were now fighting with each other. The Kylosian began ascending the steps back to the bridge quickly, thinking that his duty as a father truly had not ended.

Halfway up, however, there was a distinct sucking sound from behind him, causing him to turn in confusion. It had sounded almost as though …

The Destroyer felt alarm fill him as he recognized the sound for what it was.

“Drax! He’s leaving through the airlock! Stop him!” Gamora’s harried voice barked from above him, confirming his suspicion. The Destroyer leapt from the stairs, wasting no time in sprinting across the room towards where Quill had decided to jump ship.

“Quill!” He arrived just in time for the door to slide closed, and through the small window, he could see the human jetting quickly away from the Milano towards the Collector’s ship. “Quill!” Drax slammed his hand on the door, leaving a small dent in the metal from the force of his blow.

“Quill, get back here right now!” Gamora’s voice was urgent and irate in Drax’s comm, and when the human didn’t answer, her voice came again. “Peter! … Peter! … Drax, you’ll have to go after him!”

“Yes.” The Kylosian began readying himself, finding a breathing apparatus along with a jetpack. Gamora continued to attempt communication with their leader as Drax retrieved Rocket’s vial, tucking it into his belt after putting another breathing device in for the rodent.

“Peter, answer me!”

“I am ready to follow him.” Drax said.

“I’m trying to catch him in the tractor beam- gahh, dammit Peter!” The Zehoberei’s curse filled the comm channel. “You are not okay! You shouldn’t be out there!”

“I’m not the one with a broken leg, Gamora.” Quill’s voice sounded more alert that it had before, but Drax could hear the strain nestled at its center. “I know you guys both think I’m pathetic and weak ‘n stuff, but there is no way I’m letting you run around on a bad leg! You get to fly the ship this time, G.”

There was a long moment of silence, and Drax merely listened, curious as to what Gamora would say in response. At last, she released a deep sigh, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a death threat before speaking clearly. “Drax, follow him out there. I’m going to blow you a way in.”

Drax wasted no time in jumping out of the Milano himself as it neared the Collector’s fortress, turning quickly to see Star-Lord floating at least 50 meters away. The blasts from the now uncloaked Milano were powerful, and it only took a moment before a hole had opened up before them.

“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Quill moved quickly towards the hole, beating Drax as the Destroyer floated up behind him to land quietly. An emergency force-field activated to protect the pressure and atmosphere of the ship as he responded,

“Why would I be the unborn fermented offspring of-?”

“Forget it.” Star-Lord mumbled as several turrets extended from the ship to return fire at the Milano.

“Don’t either of you do anything stupid!” Gamora’s voice was stern, and Drax smiled to hear her promise, “I swear if you don’t come back alive I’ll kill both you myself!”

It was an oath that didn’t make any sense, as you could not kill someone who was already dead, Drax knew. The feelings behind it, on the other hand, the Destroyer understood perfectly. “We will retrieve the Guardians quickly.”

“And we might blow up the Collectors’ crap while we’re at it.” Quill’s grin was evident in his voice.

“Yes! We will not only destroy his toilets but also his collection!” Drax agreed with a roar of approval, and was happy to hear Gamora chuckle over the line as she took out the turrets.

“You’d better let Rocket help you with that.”

“Knowing Rocket, he’s probably already started.” Star-Lord said.

Drax smiled to think that he was probably right.

Chapter Text

The sounds of the Milano’s blasters faded as the two began running down the long corridor that they had broken into. They had immediately lost contact with Gamora, and Quill had explained that the Collector’s ship scrambled their signal, keeping it from reaching outside.

Star-Lord’s mask was still activated, and Drax could hear him breathing heavily as they turned the corner, another hallway opening up before them.

“Where is the resistance?” Drax asked as they continued to run, and the Terran beside him shook his head, wobbling a little as he ran.

“I dunno- but- … but I’m not complaining!”

A powerful blast from behind rippled through the ship; the floor shuddering beneath them enough that Star-Lord stumbled. The human would have certainly fallen if Drax hadn’t reached out to catch his arm, balancing him as they continued to run.

The corridor was lengthy, stretching before them as they ran, and the Destroyer looked at his companion critically, suddenly wondering at their destination. “I have been in the Collector’s ship before, but I do not know where our friends will be.”

“Then why are you running?” Quill spared him a glance that was unreadable through his mask, but his disbelief was clear in his voice.

“I assumed that you knew where we were going.”

“Drax!” The Terran jerked to a stop, panting with his hands on his knees. “Thanks for the trust, dude, but I have no idea where they’d be either.”

“Then why were you running?”

“I thought you knew where we were going!” Star-Lord threw his arms out in exasperation.

“I did not.” Drax frowned. “It appears that we will need to search the entirety of this vessel. I will not rest until I have found and rescued my family!” He readied himself to begin running, but was stopped by Quill’s hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe we don’t have to search.”

The Kylosian looked at his leader, waiting for the explanation that he knew would follow the hopeful statement.

“I think I remember this place well enough to find the bridge.”

“Why would we go to the bridge?”

“Because then I could hack in to the main console and find out where Rocket and Groot are!”

“Then let us go!” The Kylosian readied himself to run once more, and was stopped again by the human’s hand.

“Drax, I can do this alone. You should keep looking for them and when I find where they’re at, I’ll tell you. At the very least I’ll be able to rig his ship with somethin’.”

The Destroyer was loath to allow Star-Lord to leave on his own, but he could not think of a better plan, and so he nodded. “I will find our friends, and I will destroy anything that tries to stop me!”

“Good luck.” Quill’s voice was very sincere, and Drax smiled warmly.

“I shall not need it.”

Then they parted ways, with the human blowing a hole in the ceiling to jump through as the Kylosian continued down the corridor.

Now much farther into the ship, Gamora’s fight was all but inaudible, her blasts occasionally rocking the floor, but nothing more serious than that. Without Quill’s uneven gait next to his own, the hall was now very quiet, and Drax suddenly felt very alone.

It was illogical, as he knew that he could easily communicate with Star-Lord through his comm, along with being on a ship that held a numerous amount of other beings (including the Collector himself). Drax was not alone at all, but in the silence that was only partially filled by his pounding feet, he felt alone.

This was remedied as he reached the door at the end of the hallway. It slid open quickly to reveal a small army of robots that immediately began to shoot at him, repeating loudly as they did so;

“Destroy the Guardians! Destroy the Guardians!”

“I am Drax the Destroyer, and I will not be destroyed!!” The Kylosian dodged the blasts, moving to the side as he threw one of his knives to take out two of the numerous robots. It was most unfortunate that they were shooting at him, since it would make it more difficult to efficiently eviscerate them.

So Drax kept his body hidden just around the corner, effectively avoiding the blasts of energy to demolish the robots as they attempted to come in from the side.

“Destroy the Guardians! Destroy the Guarrrr-d-d-d…”

A loud crackle of electricity erupted from the other side of the door, and a loud crash rang through the ship along with a voice that filled the Kylosian with joy. “Take that, ya stupid krutackers!!”

“Friend Rocket!” Drax rounded the corner to see the rodent straddling the top of a pile that was made entirely of the robot’s bodies. His friend’s small arms had disappeared into a messy nest of wires that were poking out of the robot he was sitting on, and his bare back was turned towards the Destroyer, who could clearly see the metal implants in his spine.

“Eh?” Rocket turned with narrowed and bloodshot eyes to glare at him suspiciously, a small wrench in his mouth with his hands so occupied. His eyes soon widened, however, and the tool clattered to the floor as he growled. “Oh, so now ya show up! After I’ve gone and escaped all by myself!”

“It is good to see that you are well, friend Rocket.” Drax couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he regarded the small Guardian before him. “You are not injured?”

“I’m fine!” Rocket snapped, turning back to his work in the robot’s guts, pointing a claw in the Kylosian’s direction as he griped. “No thanks to you!”

“We have come to rescue you from the Collector.” Drax spoke calmly as he lifted his knife from the floor, tucking it back into his belt with its twin. “Where is the tree?”

“Groot is still locked up somewhere, and I’m tryin’ to focus on finding him so we can get the hell outta here!” The small rodent’s ears were lying flat against his head as he spoke irritably. Drax was could see all of his fur on end, since he wasn’t wearing any clothes, and quickly removed the vial from his belt as Rocket continued. “I’ve been fighting these stupid robots for the past half hour now, and I can’t find Groot nowhere!”

That certainly explained the lack of defense drones when Drax and Quill had infiltrated the ship. Apparently they had all been fighting Rocket.

Small paws viciously tore something from the center of the robot, and then its metal arm was pried off. Rocket worked with the wrench and the arm, along with the small metal chunk that he had ripped from its center, muttering angrily as he tinkered.

Drax quietly activated the vial, stopping when Rocket’s uniform and jetpack had both fallen to the floor. He gathered up the uniform, knowing that the rodent would want it.

“Ya just gonna stand there like an idiot, or are ya gonna tell me that Gammy and Star-Doofus are lookin’ for me an’ Groot too?” Rocket turned with his finished creation, which was a small blaster that looked large in his paws. His tail stopped twitching when he saw Drax holding out his jumpsuit, and his ears pricked up.

There was a long moment of silence before he put the gun down, quickly taking the article of clothing and pulling it on almost desperately. Drax didn’t watch, instead picking up the jetpack and holding it up as well. “I have saved your things for when I could return them to you.”

The vial was the last thing he held out, and Rocket took it quietly, his earlier anger seeming to have dissipated as he tucked it away. He met Drax’s eyes, and the Kylosian didn’t hear the thank you so much as feel it.

“I’m totally gonna rig this stupid ship ta blow!” A grin crept across the rodent’s snout then, and the Destroyer nodded. “I already ripped apart the engines on this thing. It ain’t goin’ nowhere fast anytime soon.”

That certainly explained why the Collector’s ship had been moving so slowly.

“Before we destroy the Collector we must find friend Groot.”

“Well, duh, Mr. Obvious.” Rocket rolled his eyes. “That’s where I was goin’ was to the bridge. The stupid Collector turned off all the terminals, so that’s the only place where I can take over the whole ship and find out where Groot’s at!”

“Quill has already left for the bridge.” Drax said. “He said that he would tell me where you and Groot were being kept so that I could rescue you.”

“Quill?!” Rocket groaned. “That stupid humie couldn’t even figure out the scanners on the Milano, let alone the Collector’s krutackin’ prison!”

Drax ignored the protest as he activated his comm. “I have located friend Rocket, Quill.”

“Is he- … Is he okay, Drax?” Quill’s voice was urgent, and he still sounded as though he were short of breath.

Drax could hear blaster fire as he replied, “He does not appear to be injured, no.”

Rocket snorted as he activated his vial, gathering several things from it to begin tinkering with his new blaster again.

“Good.” The Terran breathed a sigh of relief, and more blaster fire ensued before he asked. “Groot’s- … not with him, then?”

“No. We are attempting to locate him now.”

“We are?” The rodent muttered. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m almost to- … to the bridge now, so as soon as I find him I’ll- I’ll call. Okay?”

“We will be ready.” The Kylosian cut the link, thinking that he should have wished luck to his leader, and not the other way around.

“Ready for what?” Rocket had added to his creation, now holding a gun that was much larger, leaving Drax to wonder how he was lifting it so casually. “For you losers to finally get around to savin’ me an’ Groot?”

Drax never got the chance to answer, as another troop of robots turned the corner, leaving the small rodent to growl as he began to shoot them down.

“Destroy the Guardians! Destr-str-r-r-r-”

With Rocket distracting them, it was far simpler for Drax to demolish them, gutting with his knives as the blasts from his friend’s gun blew holes in the robots that had them piling up once more. “Okay, Collector! Stop hidin’ behind your stupid robots! Gimme back my best bud!”

“Destroy the Guardians! Destroy the Gua-a-a-rrrr…”

Drax speared the last robot, and turned to regard his small friend. Rocket was breathing hard, and his ears were flat against his head once more as he glared back. “If our stupid leader is goin’ ta the bridge, then where’s Gammy? She lookin’ fer Groot too?”

“She is in the Milano, waiting for us.” The Kylosian replied as he sheathed his knives. He could see that the information confused Rocket, and so elaborated. “Korath broke her leg after he bought her, and Quill did not wish her to come with us.”

“Korath- what?” The rodent put his gun onto his back, seeming to really look at Drax for the first time, his eyes studying and compartmentalizing all of the scratches and bruises that colored the Destroyer’s torso. “Drax, … what the flarg happened to you guys?”

Drax never got the chance to answer him, as a call came over his comm unit just then.

“Drax! Drax, I found Groot!” Quill’s voice was strained and tired, and it was Rocket who answered back, having put his own communicator back into place from the vial.

“Quill? Where is he? Where the hell are you?”

“I’m-” There was a blast and a sharp ringing sound for a moment, and then the Terran moaned. “Guys … I think- … I think we’ve got a problem.”

Chapter Text

“Quill, what are you talking about?” Rocket was practically shouting into the comm, and still no answer came. Only more sounds of blaster fire. “Quill!”

Worry erupted in Drax’s chest, and he wasted no time in picking the rodent up and putting him on his shoulder, ignoring the yelp and the nip on his fingers.

“It appears that we must follow him.”

“Great idea, Drax, I never would have thought of that myself! That’ll take us straight to him except for the part where we don’t know where the flarg he is!!”

“He said that he was going to the bridge.” The Kylosian was already running, Rocket’s claws digging into the flesh of his shoulder as he turned a corner sharply. “We must follow his trail.” The sounds of blaster fire on their comms ended abruptly then.

“And where’s his trail?!” Rocket shrieked, “How are we supposed to know-?!”

They both grew quiet when a lilting voice came on over their communications channel, easily recognizable as the Collector himself. “Hello, little Guardians. I am assuming that you are here to take your friends back. It is truly a pity, since they fit so well into my collection.”

“I’ll show you fittin’ well, ya krutackin’-” Rocket’s mutters were hardly audible, and it seemed that all Drax could hear was Tivan’s low tones.

“As a collector of rare specimens and artifacts, I do not like to see damage done to unique things. However, I believe that in this case, I shall have to make an exception.”

“Of what do you speak, coward?” Drax growled, and Rocket’s voice grew even louder.

“Don’t you dare touch Groot, or I’ll-”

“It is as I have said. I have no wish to harm either of the two specimens before me, though certainly your Star-Prince is not in the best condition, but I will have to do so if you plan on destroying my collection.”

“I’ll destroy more than that if you lay one pinky on Groot, you filthy piece of flarg.” Rocket scowled. “And what did you do to Quill?!”

“Do not touch my friends, or I will destroy your collection and your ship before killing you as well!”

“Then it appears that we are at an impasse.” Tivan’s voice appeared to be smiling, and it infuriated the Kylosian, who could feel that Rocket’s tail was twitching again. “If you both go back out into your ship right now, I will let your friends go. You may take them and leave.”

“And if we don’t go back to our ship?” Rocket asked, and Drax was glad that the ship’s interference was keeping Gamora from hearing the conversation. He had no doubt that she would be very furious.

“Then say goodbye to the prince of Spartax.”

The malice in the Collector’s voice left no room for doubt that he wouldn’t be capable of following through with his threat. Drax shared a look with the rodent on his shoulder, and Rocket shrugged, his eyes looking pained.

The rodent opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance.

“You cannot choose?” Tivan appeared to be playing with them, and he chuckled dryly. “Then I will give you incentive. You have five seconds.”

“I am Groot!” A distant shout could be heard, even as the Collector began to count.

“Five. … Four. …”

“Whoa- whoa stop!” Rocket was the one who spoke, his fur on end once again, though this time it was less noticeable since he was wearing his jumpsuit. “We’ll go, okay? So stop the flarkin’ countdown!”

“Three. … Two. …”

“Enough, Collector!” Drax growled it, feeling as though the words got stuck in his chest on their way out. He could not lose another family member in this way. “We will depart from your vessel!”

“Good.” Tivan was smirking. Drax could hear the smug lilt, and it filled him with ire. “I will give you three minutes to do just that. … Starting now.”

The Destroyer was already jogging, but he sped up at the last two words. He could hear the rodent spitting from his shoulder as he retrieved a breathing apparatus from his vial. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“As will I.” A little less than two minutes had passed when Drax saw the hole in the ship where he and Quill had entered. Neither of them elaborated on their statements, knowing intrinsically that they had each spoken quite honestly, and there was really no more to say.

Drax leapt out, activating his jetpack at the same time as Rocket. The Milano was waiting for them, no longer firing on the Collector’s ship as it was when Drax had entered. Clearly Gamora knew something was going on.

“Drax, what happened in there?!” Gamora’s voice hissed into their comms quite furiously as they neared the Milano, the airlock opening to allow them access.

“The Collector is a furless piece of flarkin’ krutack! That’s what happened!” Rocket’s anger was volatile, and Drax considered it fortunate that his small paws would not damage the ship if he began to hit things.

His gun, on the other hand …

“The Collector gave us three minutes to exit his vessel. If we had not acted accordingly, he was going to kill Quill.” Drax took off his mask, tucking it under his arm, but left his jetpack on as he ran up the steps to the bridge.

“He stopped firing on me, and I assumed you were in control of the ship.” Gamora was sitting at the front, and turned to look at him with hard eyes, obviously regretting her decision. The Destroyer had no doubt that if Quill survived his current predicament; Gamora was going to be furious with him. “Did you at least find Groot?”

“No!” Rocket stormed onto the bridge behind Drax, having divested himself of his own helmet as well. “Star-Dumb found ‘im and then got ‘imself caught!”

“The Collector told us that if we left the ship and his collection, destroying nothing, he would give us our missing friends.” Drax elaborated, and Gamora’s eyes narrowed. She never got the chance to voice whatever thought had just entered her mind, as the monitor before her buzzed with an incoming call.

It was from the Collector.

The rodent growled from beside Drax, and Gamora answered it quickly. Star-Lord’s mask filled the screen before them, and the Destroyer immediately shouted as he moved forward.

“Quill!”

“Peter?” Gamora sounded confused, and the mask laughed dryly in response.

“I am not your foolish Peter Quill, no.”

Drax could now see the shock of white hair that extended above the mask, and the figure backed away from the screen just a little.

“Groot!” Rocket leapt forward as the large Flora Colossus came into view behind the man who was now obviously the Collector, despite his appropriation of their Terran’s helmet. Groot himself was in a large glass cylinder, his lengthy hands pressed up against it in a futile attempt to break through. “Groot, what did he do to ya?”

“I am Groot!” The tree was pointing at something out of their line of sight, and the Collector glanced downwards for a moment before deactivating the mask with another chuckle, his humor visible now.

“Whaddaya talkin’ about-” Rocket began, but was cut off easily by their enemy.

“Ah, yes.” Tivan reached down for something, and then proceeded to pull at it, frowning a little as whatever it was seemed to weigh him down. A moment later, he was pulling it up, and Gamora gasped when she recognized it as their leader, groaning as he was jerked to his feet by the hair.

Drax felt anger wash over him as he observed the Collector’s satisfaction.

“Hi- hi guys!” Star-Lord offered them a wan smile that seemed far more genuine than that of the man who held him up.

“Aw, Pete- …” The rodent’s voice softened for the first time since Drax had discovered him, and then he practically spat in pure ire. “What did you do?!”

“I have done nothing except apprehend someone who was not supposed to be here.” The Collector didn’t relinquish his hold on the Terran as he spoke, and Quill winced every time the hand pulled at his hair. “I assure you, he was already quite damaged when I found him attempting to blow up my ship.”

“That krutacker was hiding on the bridge!” Rocket murmured as Gamora spoke forcefully, anger vibrating her voice.

“You promised that if they left the ship, you’d let Quill and Groot go.”

“I never gave my word, no.” The Collector appeared thoughtful, and he glanced back at Groot with longing. “And I paid many units to have such a unique specimen.”

“We heard your words very clearly.” Drax frowned, feeling his muscles trembling with anger.

“You said you’d let ‘em go!” Rocket’s voice was still furious, but there was a small underlying desperation as his tail began twitching once again.

“The other units were not for this one, but I think I will take him, even if he is damaged. I do not think there is another Terran-Spartoi hybrid in the galaxy.” The Collector’s sunken eyes flickered back to the screen, and his voice became even drier as he carefully intoned his next words. “Know this, Guardians. Should you attempt to attack me, or retrieve your friends again, I will destroy them immediately.”

“You are bluffing. Such a feat is not possible unless you are with them constantly!” Drax accused, and the Collector merely stared at him for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he reached his free hand down, picking up something from off-screen.

Tivan held it up to them carefully–his other hand jerking their leader a little to keep him on his feet when he began to sag–showing that it was a small silver device with two points coming out of the same side.

“I do not bluff.” Was all he said before ruthlessly stabbing it into the back of the human’s neck.

“Holy flarg what the- unnh!” Quill choked off his own words, breathing hard as sweat beaded on his now colorless face, his entire body sagging into the Collector. “… krutackin’ …”

“Peter!!” Gamora leaned forward, as though she was going to attempt reaching through the screen to help their leader.

“I am Groot!” The Flora Colossus was trying earnestly to break the glass of his prison as Rocket hissed ferociously.

“What was that?! What did you do?!”

The Collector ignored them; merely letting go of the Terran’s hair, and Star-Lord slumped immediately to the floor with a muttered,

“Hell-”

Tivan picked up another device, similar to the first but for its larger size, walking back towards the glass cylinder where Groot was still pounding.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare touch him!!” Rocket was still hissing, nearing the screen to beg while Gamora practically shouted.

“Leave Groot alone!!”

Drax felt a helpless feeling well up inside of him. Illogical, and yet reminiscent to what he had endured when he had watched his wife and daughter die. No words would stop it, and he did not beg as he had the first time, a dull acceptance flooding him as he realized that he had failed his family once again.

“Take it.” The Collector said it in a clinical way, as though the team’s shouts and Quill’s groans weren’t there. As though he were merely offering Groot a gift. He had put the silver object into a small compartment, and it slid to the other side of the glass so that the Flora Colossus could pick it up. “Pick it up and inject it, or I’ll kill the Star-Prince.”

A small remote was in the Collector’s hand, and he raised it with the threat. “I am Groot.” Groot said, looking over at the screen, where Rocket was still spitting.

“Don’t … don’t touch it, Groot … dude …” Star-Lord’s fingers entered the screen, his hand wrapping around the edge of the desk where the monitor must have resided on the other side. The Terran’s digits were white with the effort that it took as he pulled himself to his feet. “Tivan, leave ‘im … leave ‘im alone …”

Gamora and Rocket had grown silent, no doubt each torn between Groot and Quill. If Groot did nothing, Quill would die, but if Groot took it, he would be in the same position as the human.

Whatever Groot was going to decide, he took too long, since the Collector calmly pressed the button, and Star-Lord dropped to the floor with a scream.

“I am Groot!!”

Groot picked up the small device immediately, crushing it into his hand, and then let out a roar of his own as he clutched his wrist in clear pain, falling to his knees in his prison. Tivan let go of the remote, and Quill’s screams ended in tandem with Groot’s.

“What have you done?” Drax felt that it was worse than the collars that his friends had been made to wear originally, and his feeling of helplessness doubled.

“I made these after I bought two of the Guardians of the Galaxy,” Tivan shrugged, stepping over what was presumably Quill’s body as he neared the screen. “I correctly assumed that the rest of you would come for your friends, and I will not have you destroying my collection again.” He looked sadly at Rocket, whose teeth were bared. “My only regret is that I did not finish my creation in time to use it on you.”

“I am going to kill you, and it’s going to be very slow.” Gamora seethed, and the Collector chuckled.

“As soon as you attempt such a feat, I will press this button until they are nothing but shells of their former selves.”

Drax didn’t ask what he meant by the metaphor, knowing from Tivan’s tone of voice that it was something horrible.

The Destroyer could do nothing to stop it, however, and he felt grief begin to overtake him. First Hovat and Kamaria, and now Quill and Groot.

Drax had failed again.

Chapter Text

The scene before Drax was pathetic, and he felt even more pathetic, because he could do nothing to remedy it.

Taneleer Tivan stood over their leader, Star-Lord, the remote control for his torture devices held high in his hand while a smug smile adorned his face. Groot was imprisoned behind him, his left hand still circling around his right wrist to stave off the pain.

The Guardians themselves were silent. They knew when they were fighting a battle that could not be won, though the anger in the air around the Destroyer and his two teammates was practically palpable.

For a long moment, everything was silent. They all watched, each completely helpless in their own right.

Then the silence was broken.

"Now get up." The Collector pocketed his remote and then reached down once again, hauling Quill to his feet by the hair for the second time in so many minutes. "I have many things to learn about three species today, and I have engines to fix first." He placed himself behind Star-Lord and began to push the Terran back, another cylinder rising from the floor next to Groot's.

Quill's face was twisted in agony as the pull on his hair aggravated his newly inflicted implant. Tivan pushed a button on the side of the prison, and it slid open to accommodate his new specimen.

The Guardians continued to watch in silence, and Drax felt failure cloud his mind. He had to force himself to remember that his friends were not yet dead, though he knew that soon they might well be.

Then something caught his eye, giving him pause. Gamora must have seen it too, for she murmured almost inaudibly, "Peter …"

Quill was reaching slowly into his pocket, drawing something out very sneakily.

Unfortunately, the Guardians weren't the only ones who noticed it, and the Collector grabbed his arm, apparently applying pressure, if the human's grimace was any indicator. "What is in your hand?"

"It's nothin', just-" For such an accomplished liar, Star-Lord was doing a terrible job as Tivan pulled the remote out of his own pocket threateningly.

"You will show me what is in your hand."

"It's just a toy from Earth, dude. Y- You play with it when you're bored!" Quill winced, his fear-filled gaze on the Collector's thumb, "Seriously!"

"You will show me."

"What the flarg is he doin'?!" Rocket hissed as the Collector shoved the Terran onto his knees. The rodent's tone was desperate.

"Okay! Okay!" Quill slowly opened his fist, his wide eyes never leaving the remote held between the Collector's fingers. "It's just a yo-yo."

None of the Guardians spoke, all of them recognizing the tone in their leader's voice. It was his distraction voice. Hope began to peek through the darkness in Drax's mind, and he watched closely.

"What is this foolishness?" Tivan raised an eyebrow, picking up the small green object and poking at it. Doubt and suspicion were apparent in his tone and manner, but finally he handed it back to the Terran with a scoff. "It is plastic and string. It does nothing."

"No, it- it does something really cool, but I can't show you if I'm on the ground." Quill pouted, and it looked very pathetic when combined with his black eye and split lip. "It's just a toy."

Drax knew it was a weapon, though. He remembered the human hitting Rocket with it all that time ago. (Had it truly only been two days since they had begun this mission for Nova Corps?)

"You will stand up and show me."

Drax could see a small, sad smile on Gamora's face. The rodent's paws were gripping the arm of her chair tightly enough to dig holes in the fabric. Perhaps they were afraid to hope. Drax wasn't afraid of anything! … But he didn't want to be disappointed if whatever their leader was attempting to do failed.

Quill stood slowly, and wobbled several times, causing the Kylosian to worry that he would fall back to the floor. Miraculously, he kept his balance, slowly unwrapping the Terran weapon in his hands.

All of them watched silently as he attached a small cord to his middle finger, then carefully held the yo-yo up to his eye level … and let it drop.

The Collector's eyes followed it as it went down.

Then Quill's wrist jerked, and it came back up.

It fell lazily back down.

Then it came back up.

"What purpose does this serve?" Tivan's voice was confused and annoyed, and Quill grinned, apparently recognized the curiosity hidden within the tone that Drax could hear.

"It's fun!" The yo-yo began to move more quickly, and everyone's eyes followed it. "You can do cool stuff with it!"

The rodent before Drax was practically vibrating with tension, and Gamora seemed to be holding her breath.

"It only goes up and down." The Collector seemed to be growing bored, but his eyes followed the yo-yo just the same.

"You can do way more than that with it!"

The yo-yo began to dance.

There was no other word for the oddity that Drax saw before him. It spun at the bottom of its rope, it did casually swift flips around Quill's hand and wrist, and once it even flew upwards before coming back down and flicking into the human's grip once more.

Despair and hope warred with one another in Drax's chest as he followed every movement carefully with his eyes.

The human was narrating as he maneuvered the weapon, saying words that must have been metaphors, for they made no sense. "Around the world! The sleeper! Walk the dog!"

"I see no dog." Tivan's gaze had yet to leave the green blur that was the yo-yo. It had never stopped moving.

It went down.

Then it came up.

It flew down.

It zipped up.

Then it went sideways, hitting the button on the side of Groot's prison with a noisy thunk.

"NOW, GROOT!" Quill shouted.

Groot's limbs moved faster than Tivan was able, and the Flora Colossus was quickly holding the remote that had up 'til then been held loosely in the Collector's fingers.

"I am Groot!"

"No! You cannot-!" Whatever the man had been about to say was cut off when the yo-yo smacked him in the nose hard enough to draw blood, and he choked on his words while Quill leaned forward, taking his mask back. Then Tivan was thrown out of the monitor's screen by a vicious kick from the Flora Colossus.

"I AM GROOT!"

There was a moment where nothing happened, the only sounds being those of Quill and Groot breathing heavily, obviously both exhausted. Then Drax cheered.

"HAHAHAHAAA! YES!"

Gamora's eyes were large, and her mouth was open. Rocket was sniffing suspiciously as he growled angrily under his breath, clearly as relieved as the Kylosian.

"YES!" Drax was laughing, his earlier fear and failure gone as he shouted for joy. "WE ARE THE GUARDIANS!"

Groot picked Quill up then, the pale human attempting to wind his Terran weapon once more, and the tree shouted at them with a smile. "I am Gro-hoot!"

Then he reached forward, limbs snaking all over the monitor before he abruptly lumbered quickly off the screen. The last thing they heard was Star-Lord's voice.

"Whoa, wait- where are we going?!"

Drax was still laughing while his two friends stood in shock. Rocket seemed to come to himself suddenly, still appearing tense despite the smile on his snout and the unshed tears in his eyes. Then Gamora finally reached forward to cut the call, only to flinch back at the furious shout.

"NO! NO NO NO NO!"

Tivan ran onto the screen, his nose still bloody and his eyes manic.

"I bill dot allow you to bin! You bill dot touch me or my collection!"

"Tell that ta Groot." Rocket seemed to have regained his composure, and his smirk was audible. "He an' Quill just won."

"I will destroy you all, and then I will retrieve my spare remote!"

That news stopped Drax's laughter, though Rocket did not seem perturbed. "Good luck with that."

"Prepare to die, Guardians!"

The connection cut, and Rocket turned to them, his teeth still pulled into a smile. "What a flarkin' idiot!"

"I doubt he was bluffing, Rocket." Gamora said, even as a blast shook the Milano. Immediately she began to fire back, taking out a few turrets as she swore quietly.

Drax was still focused on the more important threat, however, "We must not allow him to retrieve his other remote! If he does so, he will harm Star-Lord and the tree!"

"Nononono. You're not gettin' it." Rocket adopted a haughty and dramatic tone as he relayed his next information, though Drax could sense an underlying urgency in his tone. "When I was in dere workin' on findin' Groot, you came in an' gave me my vial, right?"

"Rocket …" Gamora's voice was lowered in warning as she piloted the Milano, barely avoiding the next shot.

"Yeah, well I totally rigged it so like, half of his ship is gonna blow!" Rocket began laughing maniacally from relief, and Drax frowned, not understanding. "Ain't no way the remote is gonna survive the explosion! The frikin' Collector is flarged!"

"I fail to see how blowing up our friends will save them." Drax said, and the rodent glared at him.

"Groot said he was on 'is way. Oh, Gammy, you should probably be watchin' out for 'em, just so ya know."

"Then you will blow up the ship once our friends have left it?"

"Duh. Groot'll get 'em out before it goes up." Rocket rolled his eyes, though his tail was still twitching. "The Collector ain't collectin' nothin' anytime soon!"

"H-hey … Guys?" They all froze when Quill's voice came over their comms, and it was Gamora who replied.

"Peter! Peter, are you all right?"

"Quill! It is good to hear your voice!" Drax crowed, and Rocket shushed him with a glare, growling his own question.

"Where are you idiots?! Ya gotta get outta there, cuz I rigged it ta blow! Tell Groot I rigged it ta blow!"

Drax finally realized what the desperation in the rodent's tone signified just as Gamora did, and they both spoke over Quill's reply.

"You are going to blow them up!"

"Rocket, did you put the bomb on a timer?!"

"Well, excuse me for thinkin' we'd all be outta there by the time it went off!"

"Hey- hey …" Star-Lord's voice was still in Drax's ear, but he was too furious with the rodent to respond as he shouted.

"How much time do they have?!"

Another blast threw the Milano backwards, and Rocket slammed face first into Drax's knee while the Destroyer almost toppled Gamora from her chair. She shoved him off while Rocket scrambled to right himself, glaring at Drax.

"Hey guys-" Quill tried again, to no avail.

"I set it for 15 minutes! They have plenty of time if they hurry!" The last part of his sentence was growled urgently into his comm.

"How many minutes ago did you set it for fifteen minutes?" The Kylosian felt it prudent to ask, but the rodent never got to answer.

"You knew they were going to blow up the whole time!" Gamora accused as she turned the ship upside down to evade an oncoming missile, and Drax remembered the rodent's tears. "You knew you'd doomed them whether the Collector had them or not!"

Rocket's reply was lost when he and Drax flew to the ceiling and then landed back on the floor next to Gamora, the Destroyer on top of the rodent.

"GUYS!"

"Git off-a me, you stupid hunk-a half-naked-!"

"Peter?!" Gamora cut Rocket off yet again to query.

"Me an' Groot are ready to jump out–actually we gotta jump, 'cause there're tons of robots in here–but we'd really rather not float around waiting for you guys to quit arguing and pick us up!"

"Then get the flarg outta there!" Rocket's claws scraped Drax as he stood, the small mammal rolling to his feet to shriek at them. "You only have THREE KRUTACKIN' MINUTES!"

"What?!" Quill's voice was shrill, as Gamora turned to shout,

"You knew they were going to explode!"

"You said that they had FIFTEEN minutes!" Drax roared, feeling the now-familiar despair fill him again.

"I AM GROOT!"

Rocket ignored all the shouts to run to the window as he shouted, "Why didn't you warn us before jumpin'?!" The entire ship shivered from another hit, causing the rodent to run into the window as Quill began to shout.

"We jumped! Come pick us up now! Right now! Like, NOW! Groot's gonna die!"

Gamora's eyes were hard as she gunned the Milano forward, shouting at the two of them. "Go make sure they get inside!"

Drax leapt from the stairs to the bridge, donning his mask as he went. He opened the still dented door of the airlock, and was forced to hold on tightly to keep from hitting the ceiling as their ship did another flip.

"They're right outside! They're right outside!" Rocket ran up behind him, also ready to face the vacuum of space. "Open the flarkin' door!"

The Kylosian did so swiftly, and jumped ship for the second time that day. He easily spotted Quill and Groot floating near the hole in the Collector's ship, Star-Lord dragging Groot with him as they neared.

Small robots poured out behind them, shooting at the human and the tree, their electronic voices inaudible in the dead of space. "A little help here?"

"Rocket, retrieve Quill and friend Groot. I will deal with the robots." Drax pulled himself up on top of the Milano, drawing his knives as he readied for battle with a roar. "I DO NOT FEAR YOUR COWARDLY ARMIES OF METAL, COLLECTOR!"

"Dude!"

"We're the only ones who can hear you, stupid!" Rocket hissed in annoyance, and the Kylosian heard a sigh from Gamora.

Drax only laughed as he began to contend with the robots that neared the ship, and through his comm, he heard the airlock door close, with Groot's gasping breaths following it. Drax hooked his foot under a piece of the Milano's wing to steady himself as he slashed through the robots.

Several shots hit and burned him through his thin body shield, but he was determined to protect his very vulnerable family. Gamora was also hitting them with several of her own shots.

"Drax … Drax, you can come back in now." Quill sounded relieved, his voice immeasurably tired. "We should leave now …"

"Yeah, let's get the hell outta here before the Collector an' all 'is crap go boom!" Rocket agreed.

Drax would be sad to leave the robots alive, but knew that the explosion would most likely demolish them. It was Gamora who stopped him from going back inside, however, her gasp audible and horrified.

"Gamora?" Quill sounded marginally better, but not by much.

"Rocket, I- I think that's-" She seemed unable to believe whatever it was, and then the rodent replied.

"Yeeeaaah-we're flarged."

Drax saw it then, coming towards them at top speed, and the despair that had threatened to overwhelm him for the past three days consumed him. Even with his primitive knowledge of technical weaponry, he knew what it was.

"I am Groot?"

"Well does it look like an antimatter missile?!" Rocket snarled.

"I … am Groot."

"Then it probably is one!"

"You gotta be kidding me." Quill moaned.

Drax set his shoulders as he heard the surrender of his team in their voices. They had come so far, and now it would all end anyway.

The valiant efforts of his friends and himself would be wasted …

No.

"No." Drax glared at the missile. He had rescued his family from almost everything, and he would not allow an unfeeling piece of metal to deprive him of his victory. "We will not be destroyed."

Chapter Text

The small and pathetic robots of the Collector did not cease firing as Drax moved forward to get a better look at the missile that was smoothly jetting towards them.

It had always been intriguing to the Destroyer just how quiet everything was out in the dead of space. The antimatter bomb seemed to be moving in slow motion, though Drax knew that it was not so.

The voices of his teammates were loud in his ear, but he paid no mind to them as he sped up, beginning to truly move quickly. His course was straight for the torpedo.

“MOVE THE SHIP!!”

“We have to dodge! It will just follow us-!”

“Shoot it, G’mora …”

The missile was at 300 meters, and though the Milano was backing swiftly away in preparation for an evasive maneuver, its speed only brought it ever closer.

“Peter. That will just destroy us anyway.”

“Let’s get the flarg outta-!”

Drax knew that they could not dodge it, not with so little time and with it set to hit the Milano.

“Shooting it is our only chan-”

“I am Groot?”

The Kylosian also knew that there was one thing he could do. It was an impossible feat, but he would make it possible.

“Drax? He was right behind- oh flarg. Drax?!”

“Drax are you still outside?!”

“Why are you still out there?!!”

“I am Groot!!”

The Destroyer did not answer as he slowed down, turning to go back towards the Milano, flying parallel to the trajectory of the missile.

“Drax! Answer us!”

The Kylosian could afford no distractions as the missile flew past him. He grabbed on at the last second, pulling himself to the front of it and bracing for impact.

“Drax! Where are you?!”

“I am Groot!!”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN’?!”

The torpedo would impact in seconds, and as Drax bent his legs to prepare himself, he grunted through the comm.

“I am guarding my family.”

Then he was being crushed. His feet hit the Milano, and he felt the ship move under the weight of his body and the powerful torpedo that still flew determinedly towards his teammates. He was at an awkward angle, and it was difficult to keep from slipping.

Raw power thrummed through the metal under his hands as Drax pushed back against it, keeping it from getting close enough to strike the Milano.

“Drax! Drax, are you-?!”

“Is he holdin’ it?!”

The Kylosian did not have the breath to reply, and merely grunted with the effort of saving his family.

“He can’t hold that position for long.” Gamora’s voice filtered through his growing pain as the Milano shifted, turning so that Drax could stand perpendicular to the Milano’s side, allowing him to get a much better grip with his feet and hands. “Drax, don’t let go, I’m going to turn the ship! Maybe if you can turn it just a little bit, we can dodge it.”

“Crush its nose! Ya gotta crush its nose!” Rocket’s urgent tones followed the fairly calm assassin’s orders. “Its gonna track us down no matter if ya put it off course or not, ‘cause its got trackers in its nose!”

“It … does not … have … a nose!” Drax growled as the ship turned, just as Gamora had promised.

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah, its nose is the very tip of it, dude.” Star-Lord’s patience seemed to be feigned.

The Destroyer doubted that he could crush it and keep it from hitting the ship all at once, but he knew that he would have to do so. The rest of his team’s cries faded into background noise once again as he carefully shifted his grip on the torpedo.

“I’m gonna go out there an’ help ‘im! I can probably reprogram that thing-”

“You are not leaving this ship.”

“And since when did you tell me what to do?!”

Drax’s hands slowly slid until they were both over the ‘nose’ of the missile. Then he began to crush it.

“Gamora, he’s probably right. He could help Drax a lot.”

“And he could get himself killed with Drax! You’re not going out there, Rocket!”

The metal was unyielding beneath his fingers for many long moments, and then the Destroyer felt it begin to bend. Normally, he did not sweat much through exertion (Quill sweat very much, and Drax did not understand why), but now he could feel the back of his neck and the palms of his hands growing slightly damp.

“But I can help!!”

“I am Groot!”

“Seriously?! You’re sidin’ with her?!”

The tip of the missile was bent into an unrecognizable shape, and the Kylosian smiled grimly at his handiwork, beginning to feel true fatigue overtake his body as he continued to push against the torpedo.

“Whoa- hey guys, isn’t that a-?”

“Flarg! It’s an escape pod!”

“I am Groot?”

“Well who else would it be?”

“Rocket, we were counting on your explosion taking out the spare remote, what if he’s got it with him?!”

Anger flooded Drax’s limbs as he fought to keep control of the missile, and it renewed his energy as he realized that the threat to his family had not been stopped.

“Didn’t you say we had three minutes?!”

“That was 2 minutes and 43 seconds ago!”

“Drax!”

It was with aching muscles that the Destroyer hooked his fingers into a tiny groove on the neck of the torpedo, and his entire left shoulder began to burn as he turned it right without allowing it to slip from his grip.

“Drax! Let it go and get in here!” Quill’s voice had up ‘til then been tired and yet urgent.

Now it bordered on desperation.

With a final, mighty heave, the Destroyer threw the torpedo away from himself, and watched it go careening away from the Milano. It took a moment before Drax saw that it was headed for the Collector’s ship.

“Drax!” Gamora repeated Star-Lord’s plea, just as Rocket screeched.

“IT’S GONNA BLOW!!”

Drax was certain that if they had not been in the dead of space, the explosion that lit the darkness before him would have been deafening. As it was, he could not help but appreciate its beauty as colorful flames erupted and split the fortress, sending large slabs of metal silently hurtling.

For the second time out above the Milano, the Kylosian felt as though time had slowed down.

Distantly, he was aware that his friends–his family–were calling his name. The Milano was somehow maneuvering itself in front of him, tucking him under a wing and then pulling him away from the explosion that had doubled with the rodent’s bomb.

In his mind, nothing was so beautiful as the victory that was expanding before him and in his soul.

Drax had not failed.

Then time sped up again, and the wing slammed into him as the force of the explosion hit the Milano.

Drax closed his eyes and smiled.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Drax became aware of was the shouting. It wasn’t unexpected, though it did not help his very large headache. He felt as though his entire body was weighed down, and his muscles seemed to lack the strength that would normally lift him.

“Are you sure he didn’t break anything?” Gamora’s voice was doubtful, and there was a light touch on the Destroyer’s shoulder.

“I’m a bounty hunter, not a frikkin’ doctor!! He don’t seem broken to me!”

“I am Groot.”

“Well, can you see anythin’ that looks broken?”

“I am Groot.”

“Well duh not from the outside! Bones are normally on the inside!!”

“I am Groot!”

“Yeah, well I don’t think swellin’ always means broken bones!”

Drax wanted to tell them that they were being unnecessarily loud, but couldn’t find the energy to do so. Even his eyes rebelled at the small action of opening.

That alarmed him.

“We need to get to a hospital.” Gamora seemed to dislike her own declaration, her tone sour. “We won’t know if he’s broken anything without the help of a medical scanner.”

“Pfft! We have a medical scanner!”

“I am Grooot.” Groot’s tone seemed to be coaxing and reprimanding all at once.

“Well … no, I dunno how to read it good, but neither does anyone else on this krutackin’ ship!”

“Which is why we should try and get to a medical facility.” Gamora sighed.

The Destroyer’s lack of energy was beginning to frustrate him, and the many sounds were causing his ears to ring.

“Well that blast fired almost alla our systems, Gams.” Rocket’s voice had lowered in annoyance. “We’re just a big hunk a space debris right now, so ain’t no way we’re gettin’ anywhere anytime soon.”

“I am Groot!”

“Oh, yeah, suuuuure! Maybe someone will come along and find us and miraculously wanna help us- HAHAHAHAAA!” The rodent gave a long, false laugh. “Probably a buncha pirates or somethin’ with our luck!”

Drax could tell that he was not really needed at that moment, and it was as though his entire body was demanding rest. Perhaps he ought to give in.

“Try to get the ship working.” Gamora said after a small moment. “Maybe we can at least get a message through to Nova Corps.”

The mention of the Nova Corps sent Drax’s head spinning while rage woke him once more. The other Guardians could not know of the a-hole in the Corps! They would be in great danger if they contacted the wrong person and Nova Prime had not discovered the … what was the word that Quill had used?

Ah. The leak.

“W- we …”

As soon as he managed to speak, the noise was overcome with an electrifying silence, and a soft hand (Gamora’s) touched his shoulder once again. “Drax?”

“I am Groot?”

Drax was becoming quite angry with the uselessness of his limbs, and it was with a furious grunt that he tore open his eyes. Rocket was standing on the table next to him, and Groot leaning over him cast a shadow over Gamora, who was doing the same. “Nova C- … Corps …”

“Nova Corps?” The assassin prodded, and Drax fought to finish his thought.

“They … do n- not uunnh-!” Attempting to sit up was not something his body was prepared to do, and his friend’s eyes all widened.

“Whoa!” Rocket took half a step forward, then retracted it. “Don’t you dare puke on me, man!”

“I am Groot!”

“Slowly, Drax.” Gamora warned.

“… not have the i- … information on the RSR that Q-Quill and … and I … retrieved.” He felt as though all of his energy had been expended on telling them that, and it was very tempting to let his eyes close once more.

Yet he had more to tell.

“Why the hell not?” Rocket seemed very confused, and it only worsened when the Destroyer murmured,

“A-hole … leak …”

“I … am Groot.”

“Yeah. Gams is right, he ain’t makin’ no sense. Hospital time.”

“Wait, Drax …” Gamora’s hand tightened a little on his shoulder, and the flash of pain had him opening his eyes once more (when had he closed them?).

“I- It was … a- an ambuuuuush …” Drax could not keep his eyes open any longer, the throbbing of his head refusing to let him stay with his friends, pulling him back towards darkness.

“Ambush? The hell is he talkin’ about?!”

“The mole.” Gamora’s tone held remembrance and understanding. “Peter said something about a mole in the Nova Corps …”

“I am Groot?!!”

“I dunno buddy, but if Pete an’ Drax’re right, then we’re in real big trouble. No point in contactin’ the freakin’ Nova Corps if they’re just gonna try an’ kill us.” Rocket sounded very angry. “An ambush would explain a lot, though.”

“We can ask Peter when he wakes up …”

The voices were fading, and Drax let the darkness swallow him up, confident that his family would be able to take care of themselves for the time being.

When Drax opened his eyes again, it was to darkness and silence. He did not feel heavy as he had the first time, and though his head was still very sore, it did not trouble him like before.

He sat up with a grunt of pain, suddenly aware–and pleased to find–that he was in his own bed. Nova Corps had created rooms for them when they had repaired the ship, and though it is small, the Kylosian was comforted to be there.

It was simple to guess that Groot had probably carried him there, and knowing that his family was together once more brought a smile unbidden to his face.

Snatches of the conversation from earlier jumped from his memory, telling him that the labored thrum of the ship beneath him was a direct result of the Collector’s ship exploding in such close proximity.

With a grunt of pain, Drax pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily against his wall as his energy failed him. His limbs were quite swollen and it took far too much effort for him to leave his room, but his desire to see the other Guardians was much greater than his pain.

He also required immediate use of the restroom, and this he did before all else with relief. Then he went in search of his friends, wondering how late it is, and why he hadn’t checked before leaving his quarters.

The light in the common room alerted him to the rodent’s presence long before he heard the clinking and muttering from the small working mammal, and Drax walked in with halting steps.

The Destroyer leaned heavily on the table, finding it difficult to keep his footing, and stared at Rocket. The rodent was buried halfway into an electrical panel, quiet curse words tripping to a halt before his furry head popped out.

His glance was filled with annoyance and another emotion that Drax could not name. “What’re you doin’ awake?”

“I have rested long enough. I wish to know what has transpired during my loss of consciousness.”

“Could you have made that question any longer?” Rocket rolled his eyes, then put up a paw before Drax could respond. “Don’t answer that.”

“What has happened?”

The rodent’s sigh was more telling than any words, and it was a small moment later that he pulled away from his work to hop onto the table. “Pretty much alla our systems’re fried, an’ ain’t no way we can contact no one.” His voice turned sardonic then, “Not that callin’ the people who set us up would do us a lotta good.”

“What of the other Guardians?”

“They’re asleep now.” Rocket’s tone was guarded, and to Drax it seemed as though he truly wished to end his sentence with the word finally.

It was a moment before the Destroyer was able to think of his next question. “Did the Collector escape?”

“Gammy is pretty sure he got away, but Groot an’ Quill seem all right so far.”

“Then they still carry their implants?”

Here the rodent turned away, his ears flattening against his head as he scowled.

“What troubles you, friend Rocket?” Drax knew from experience with the rodent what was coming next, and the almost immediate explosion did not disappoint.

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong?!! I can’t do nothin’, is what’s wrong!!” Rocket’s paws lifted into the air as he shouted the words. “They’re gonna need surgery to pull out those stupid implants, an’ I can’t do that! I looked at ‘em, but they’re connected to their nervous systems, and if I do it wrong, I could kill them!”

Drax opened his mouth to reply, but it seemed that the rodent wasn’t finished.

“I can’t even fix the krutakin’ ship without spare parts! How’m I s’posed ta keep everyone alive if I don’t have nothin’ ta work with?!!”

“I am not in danger of dying-” Drax was confused by the rodent’s train of thought, but couldn’t finish his own when Rocket cut him off again, pacing the length of the table.

“Oh, but you were! You were gonna die out there! Gams was backin’ us up, but I barely got the wing in front of you before everythin’ went ta hell!!”

The Destroyer did not speak this time, merely ignoring the metaphor to listen.

“You’ve been out for a whole day an’ a half! You almost died, Groot almost died- hell, Pete almost died an’ even Gamora looks like crap!” Rocket was breathing hard, his eyes wide enough for Drax to see red lines in them. When was the last time that the rodent had slept? “An’ now we’re floatin’ around in space waitin’ ta die ‘cause if anyone comes along, we don’t got nothin’!”

“This is not true.” Drax frowned. “We have each other.”

Rocket snorted, his eyes rolling again. “Yeah, sure. Gams has got a broken leg, Quill is sleepin’ all the time, not to mention those- those things the Collector gave him an’ Groot.” The rodent snarled the next words. “Neither of ‘em really wanna talk about it, but accordin’ ta Pete, they still hurt a flark ton. An’ you!” Rocket poked the Destroyer in the chest with a claw, and Drax felt pain blossom from the apparently bruised area. “You look like crap, and if you don’t have any broken bones, they’re at least all bruised, an-”

“But we are alive.” Drax was still leaning on the table, his energy sapped as his body throbbed in time with his headache.

Silence descended on the room for a long moment, neither of them speaking as they stared at each other. Then Rocket sighed noisily and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Hooraaaaay. We’re alive for another day!”

“Friend Rocket, you cannot blame yourself for all that has transpired.”

The rodent immediately met his concerned gaze with a fierce glare. “No, but I can sure as hell blame the krutacker who set us up!!”

“I blame him as well, but that does not stop me from enjoying our victory.” It was the calmest piece of wisdom that the Destroyer could offer for his hurting friend, and Drax smiled while the rodent jumped off the table, burying himself into his work once more with a huff and a grumble. “I am very pleased that we are all alive.”

It seemed that Rocket had no answer to that, since no one broke the silence again. It was only when the Kylosian prepared to return to his quarters that he heard the soft reply.

“Yeah. … Me too.”

It was two days later that Drax was sitting in the common room, eating zarg nuts as he watched his family around him. Music drifted lazily through the room, quiet enough that his still constant headache was not bothered.

I’ve paid my dues … Time after time …

The swelling in his limbs had gone down enough that movement was becoming far simpler, though still very painful. That did not stop him from sharpening his knives. They had become quite dull in his battle with the robots.

The process was still painful, however, with his slow recovery.

The Milano’s repairs seemed to be coming along at the same speed, as the argument between Quill and Rocket perfectly illustrated.

“Don’t you dare, Rocket!”

“If we wanna get anywhere, Quill, we gotta make some sacrifices.” Rocket did not seem to be particularly bothered by the human’s wrath, though it made sense when considering the Terran’s current physical condition.

And bad mistakes … I’ve made a few …

“We can’t just sacrifice part of the engine for another part! I’m pretty sure that defeats the purpose of fixing an engine!!”

I’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I’ve come through …

“Oh, this ain’t from the engine, Quill.” Rocket grinned evilly. “It’s from the back-up life support system.”

“What?!”

Gamora rolled her eyes from her place at the side of the table where she was cautiously stretching her rapidly healing leg. Her lack of involvement in the argument was a testament to her faith in the rodent, and Drax silently agreed that Rocket probably knew what he was doing.

And we’ll keep on fighting ‘til the end!

“What? It’s back-up, Quill. We ain’t gonna need it!” The rodent didn’t stop what he was working on, and Drax turned his head when Groot walked in, his head bobbin with the music.

“How can you possibly know that?!” Quill threw his arms up in exasperation, then winced when he agitated the implant. Gamora’s eyes narrowed at that, and she immediately warned,

“Calm down, Peter.”

No time for losers …

Star-Lord shot her an annoyed glance, but did as she asked, merely glaring at Rocket. “If we end up needing back-up life support-”

“Yeah, yeah, save the I-told-you-so’s for when you can actually use ‘em, Quill.” Rocket moved a paw in a dismissive wave as he spoke, but then turned a sharp gaze on their leader. “Like how I warned you about gettin’ too worked up while ya still got that frikkin’ implant.”

I’ve taken my bows … My curtain calls …

“Well sorry I let the Collector stab me in the neck!!” Star-Lord snarled, then scowled as his implant gave another shock. “Flarg.” He sat down heavily next to where Gamora stood.

“I am Groot.” The tree spoke worriedly from beside Drax, and it was Gamora who spoke calmly.

“Peter, let Rocket work on the ship. The faster he can fix it, the faster we can get those implants out.”

But it’s been no bed of roses … No pleasure cruise …

“Thank you.” Rocket spoke without looking up from the piece of machinery that he was adjusting, his voice indicating that he had won the argument.

Quill rolled his eyes, hesitantly bringing a hand to the back of his neck to check the implant, wincing as he touched it.

“I am Grooooot.” Groot crossed the room, taking Star-Lord’s hand away from the silver metal.

And I ain’t gonna lose!!

“Groot says to quit messin’ with it.” Rocket did look up this time, and it was with a piercing look. “He’s right. You’re just gonna shock yourself if you keep touchin’ it.”

Star-Lord huffed, folding his arms as Groot patted his shoulder with his left hand, nodding sympathetically. “I am Groot.”

We are the champions, my friends!

Rocket sighed after a moment, rolling his own eyes before snapping out. “Oh quit mopin’ around, Pete! In at least 24 hours I think we’ll be able to fly again, an’ we’ll go get those out.”

“Then we will track down the a-hole responsible for this atrocity so that I may kill him.” Drax spoke up for the first time, garnering strange looks from Gamora and Groot, and a small smile from Quill.

“Heh, not if I kill ‘im first.” Rocket growled.

‘Cause we are the champions of the woooorld …

“Get in line.” Gamora was smiling as she said it, and Drax immediately answered.

“Where is this line?! I will be at the fore of it!”

Star-Lord huffed again, though this time, it was clear that he was attempting not to laugh.

“I am Groot!” Drax understood that the tree also wished to join in the line, and realized that perhaps he would have to enact his revenge in a different manner than he usually did.

And we’ll keep on fighting ‘til the end!!

Now everyone was smiling apart from Drax, who turned quite seriously to his larger friend. “Perhaps it would be best if we took our revenge all together.”

“Let’s wait until we get there, first.” Quill finally managed to say between chuckles, and Drax allowed his own smile to show.

“I hope it will be soon. I wish to show this coward what it means to harm my family.”

Everyone seemed to agree with that sentiment, and it was Groot who put a rough and yet gentle hand on his shoulder with a smile. “I am Groot.”

“Yeah, Groot’s right. It’s not just your family. It’s ours.” Rocket said as the song tapered to its end.

‘Cause we are the champions …

The song was appropriate, though a sudden revelation had Drax thinking of it in a different way. He had always considered himself a champion, and in his mind the song had always described him. Yet now, he knew it extended to the rest of his family as well.

They were the champions!

“Our family.” Drax corrected himself, and laughed out loud to know that they weren’t just the champions, and the a-hole didn’t stand a chance.

Because they were the Guardians.

Chapter Text

It was a bar like any other, filled to the brim with drunkards and fools, waitresses showing off perhaps more than they actually had, and the hazy smell of lost inhibitions. Yet nestled deep within the atmosphere of inebriation and frivolity, there was an undercurrent of malice.

No one really seemed to notice it, or to notice the individuals that exuded said antagonistic vibes.

No one noticed until she walked in, that is.

The alien was tall, female and scaly, her long pink legs attracting stares from everyone she passed, though the ever-shifting tentacles on the back of her head dissuaded any catcalls or wolf whistles.

She was on a mission, the urgency in her stride bringing her quickly to the back of the bar, where a single individual sat at a table, a drink in his hand.

For all of her grace and lithe beauty, it was with a very un-feminine grunt that she sat down at the table, crossing one of her legs over the other with an air of finality. Her tiny skirt molded to her body, keeping her modest enough, if only by a small margin.

“You’re late.” A male voice spoke calmly from the shadows. It wasn’t an accusation, but merely a fact.

“We have a problem.” She replied evenly, her rosy lips thinning enough to match the rest of her pale pink face. When no reply was forthcoming, she continued. “The RSR has been compromised.”

“Completely compromised?” He seemed surprised. “How did it happen?”

“The Nova Corps haven’t arrived on the scene yet, but we know they’re on their way.”

“What happened to the Dispersion Plan?” The male before her put his drink down, then pressed his hand flat to the table. His hand was a pitch-black color, but greyed with the tension that he was applying.

“I don’t know if you recall giving the order, but a few complaints came in from our customers about a small group of individuals …”

“Ah, yes. The … Protectors of the Planets or something, if I remember right.”

“The Guardians of the Galaxy.” The woman pulled out a small disc, placing on the table between them, very close to the man’s hand. “You ordered their removal.”

“Ah, yes. I said I didn’t care how.” The figure nodded. “I’m assuming Leynak and Jaifo couldn’t take care of it?”

“Apparently the Guardians were too much for them.”

A hologram jumped up between the two figures, showing a dramatic fight scene that began with the impersonation of a guard, and ended with an explosion. The two men in the video fought together seamlessly, despite the fact that one was clearly injured.

No one spoke as the video played, making the grainy voices shouting from the recording the only sound between the two figures.

“This was the human, Star-Prince, and this was the one who freed him.” She pointed to the injured impersonator and the green tattooed man respectively. “Drax the Destroyer.”

“The one who calls himself Star-Lord was captured then?”

“All of them were captured except for the Destroyer. It is why he was able to free his friend.”

“Ah. And Star-Lord took the information to ruin the RSR.” The man across from her appeared thoughtful, his other hand coming up to rest its fingers against its counterpart. “Do we know of the other Guardians?”

“We do not.” She frowned. “We are investigating now, but I suspect that if this- this Star-Man and the Destroyer got away, they immediately left to help their team members.”

“Raikna.” The sound of what must have been her name caused the woman to look up sharply as he man leaned forward, his chin jutting forth from the black of the shadow to show gritted white teeth in the black features. “Do you believe them capable of rescuing the others?”

“I do.” Raikna said.

“I do as well.” The chin retreated, and the man’s voice finished. “They will need to be taken care of more permanently this time.”

“Understood, sir. Which branch would you like to do the job?”

“Well, I suppose the RSR is already coming to its end, so they’re out of the question.”

“That could certainly be said.” Raikna seemed to be slightly annoyed with the time-consuming response of the man, though her red eyes were expertly schooled into an expression of patience. “So either the DoM or the DROGA will have to do it.”

“Try the DoM.” A dark hand waved her off dismissively. “If Yegs can’t take care of them, he doesn’t deserve his job.”

Raikna nodded. “I’ll make sure he hears of it.” She stood, her tentacles twisting slightly behind her head, almost like a form of fidgeting.

“Oh, and Raikna,” The figure called before she could leave, leaning forward out of the shadow completely. His face was young and thin. His hair and eyebrows were white, sticking up strangely. The teeth were blinding, pulled into a sharp smile, but it was his glowing white eyes that caught the attention. “If there’s a chance that one of them survives the encounter, bring them to me. I’d like to meet one of these … Guardians.”

“Of course.” The woman stalked off much the same way as she had entered.

“Of course.” The man picked up his drink as he echoed her, swirling it lazily in his grip before taking a long draught.