Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Did ya hear?" 

"What about?" 

"That Terran boy, Quill, stole the void gem from the Aat’ien the other day. “

“The void gem ? You mean the gem that’s powering the Aat’ien ships?”

“The very one. We might just have a war on our hands. Five Aat’ien ships were on scout duty around Tarth and their ships broke down when the void gem was removed. The Aat’ien chief’s heir was on one of the ships. None survived.”

“No way. The Aat’ien rarely lose battles. Are we really doing this?”

“The Cap will definitely try negotiation first. If I were him, I’d give them the Terran boy in exchange. A life for a life.”

“If you were him? You’re saying the captain isn’t doing that?”

“Are you kidding me? If any one of us did the same, we wouldn’t even be breathing right now, but don’t forget this is Quill we’re talking about. He could cause the end of the galaxy and no harm would befall him.”

“Almost as if the Cap sees the boy as his own, huh?”

“I don’t know what Cap sees in him.”

“Whatever it is, it better be worth whatever’s coming our way.”

---

“Faster, boy, any slower and your only worth is to be our dinner!”

10-year-old Peter groaned as he frantically crawled his way through the vent to the planted treasure, “I can’t go any faster, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry won’t bring the target closer to you, boy, go faster !”

He reached the neighbouring room and grabs the rock, studded in cheap gems. He started to smile, chest heaving with heavy pants. He'd done it! He survived another day! 

An alarm sounded, the room flashing red. His face fell.

“Tsk, boy, what did I tell you about treasures? The whole reason we need to steal them in the first place is because they’re protected !”

Peter flinched as a rubber bullet hit him on the chest, right above the heart. 

“One wrong move and bam , you’re dead. And you’re no use to us dead , boy.”

His hands cupped the rock to his chest. Yondu ripped it away and put it back on the pedestal.

“Shoot the alarm dead, check for markings on the floor, check the weight on the pedestal and replace if needed,” Yondu recited as he guided Peter through where to look first. He reset the traps. “Again, boy, faster this time.”

Peter didn’t dare to protest as he crawled back to the starting room. He knew it would only make Yondu angrier. He wondered how many more times he could mess up before he’d finally be served at the dinner table.

Now that was a thought to keep him up tonight.

---

Peter stuck his nose up as Ronan’s ship travelled away, glaring at the retreating ship from the safety of their cockpit. Ten years with Yondu, and never had he met someone so full of themselves. Ronan commanded them like vermin .

“Tch, Ronan the Accuser? What does that even mean?” He snarked.

Yondu thwacked Peter over the head, saying, “It means whatever he wants it to mean, boy. Titles have significance. For no-good mercenaries, it helps them feel important, sure, but for the ones who have the ability to inspire, to change the world… a title is a reflection of that power. A promise, to all the people following them.”

Peter glanced skeptically at Yondu, his right hand still rubbing idly at his sore head. "What’s your title, then?”

Yondu barked out a laugh.

“Me? I don’t need one. Our name is enough. We are the Ravagers, the name of our faction carries enough prestige to demand the respect of others.”

Peter hummed. That made sense.

They stood in silence for a moment, Yondu setting the coordinates for their next destination.

“What’s yours, boy?”

“Huh?” Peter snapped his head up, startled out of the peaceful silence.

Yondu turned to face him, his gaze searching for something .

“You’re not a Ravager, are you? You’ll be going on solo missions by the end of this year, so what’s your title? What do you see yourself being known for, out there?”

Another hum. Conversation ceased again as they fell into contemplative silence. Yondu’s refusal to see him as a Ravager should have stung, but it didn’t. He didn’t belong and everyone knows it. 

A title. A way to prove he existed.

“Starlord,” he said, finally, after a long silence. “Yeah, I like Starlord.”

Yondu tch -ed .  

“You’re judging Ronan with a title like that ? Alright, let’s hear it. Why Starlord?”

Peter’s lips stretched into a grin. He could see it—every star sitting right in the palm of his hands, his to have, his to own .

“I want to own the Galaxy. No more living on a spaceship. I want to be welcome onto any planet I set foot on.”

“You’re either delusional or way too ambitious for your own good, boy. Starlord it is, then.”

And so it was.

---

Twenty six years. He’d had the boy for twenty six years. Raised him from a child to the capable man he is now — Starlord , the best mercenary on their fleet. There had been a nagging feeling recently, one that told Yondu that he had taught the boy all he could, to teach him to survive, to charm, to succeed no matter the circumstances.

Yondu thought– no, he knew that the boy would surpass him one day. His dream of owning the Galaxy was becoming more and more believable as the weeks progressed. Yondu had watched him grow, watched him make his mistakes and learn from them. Yondu had witnessed the boy learn confidence, as he charmed his way into the bed of men, women, and creatures alike, the very definition of a heartbreaker.

He wasn’t blind. He wasn’t deaf, or ignorant to the whispers behind closed doors. He knew his crew thought him weak for taking the boy in, for keeping him and breaking a stable partnership in the process. A waste of time and resources, Yondu knew, that’s what his crew thought.

Twenty six years. The boy wasn’t his, never was. He was grateful he got as long as he’d had with the boy, but, as the Terrans liked to say, the bird needed to leave its nest eventually.

Look at him , Yondu told himself as he watched the boy, music buds in his ears and dancing without a care in the world, look at how he’s grown .

Yondu Udonta spent a lifetime collecting and trading with the most precious treasures. He’d picked up a brilliant gem, polished it, restored it to its glory, and there was a certain ache in letting it go.

Just for today, he allowed himself to entertain the fantasy of being the boy’s adopted father, instead of his unwilling captor. 

Pretend it may be, but there was no faking the parental love he held for the boy, and damn was he proud of his Starlord. 

---

This was it. 

No more waiting. No more enduring. 

There was no point in staying in a place he never wanted to be in. Twenty six years was more than enough. He’d heard the whispers. He knew he wasn’t welcome here, never was. That much was obvious from how he’d been kicked around and threatened since he was a child.

He’d been experimenting lately. Small acts of defiance—hacking the coordinates and disabling the cameras on his ship slowly built up to this. 

Morag. The Orb. A fortune to be had.

The money was enough to pay his trip away from the Ravagers and sustain himself for at least a few months.

Yondu had no idea what he’d done, giving Peter this mission. They’d never meet again, not willingly.

Peter hummed as he put his earbuds in, letting the melody of his mother’s phantom embrace carry him into a life filled with hope, and perhaps love.

Hm, that was a thought: love . 

He wondered if someone like him deserved love. He wondered what kind of person he’d be willing to commit to, given his liking for one night stands.

He wondered what kind of person would love him, the half-Terran-half-something boy who’d lived his life performing crime after crime.

What would that person be doing right now?

Chapter Text

Watching the knife balance on her finger made her feel special. She heard the screams, but Thanos had told her to focus, so she did. She focused on balancing the knife. Thanos would find her mom afterward. They would be back together and she could go home and be safe with her mom for once and for all.

Gamora didn’t realize it then, but she shouldn’t have trusted Thanos at all. Her mother’s scream cried out from the crowd as they killed her and many others, and Thanos smiled as he found his daughter. A warrior he could train to fight. Someone who would learn about his plans and understand.

She would understand, one day. Maybe not now, not yet, but she was young and able to learn.

She would be his warrior. 

~

Gamora watched as Thanos took her to his ship. She asked about her mother, but he said nothing, offered up no answer. She had heard the cries of her people and knew many were lost. She had heard the stories of Thanos, the Mad Titan who’d killed populations of people. She knew there was no good in what he did. Her mother had told her that.

She followed, knowing she was safe, but not understanding why this was happening. What had she done to intrigue the Mad Titan, and make him exempt her from the cruelty of death that half of her people had faced. She couldn’t figure it out as she moved to follow and listen to what she was being told. Thanos told her that her training would start soon before going to leave.

“Where is my mother?” she asked.

“She needed to rest, little one,” Thanos said before leaving.

Gamora knew then that her mother was dead.

She cried herself to sleep before coming to a decision: She would train to be the best warrior, so that, one day, she could defeat Thanos and take everything he wanted away from him.

She would not let her mother’s death, and the death of her people, be in vain, she was sure of that.

~

Gamora had been learning how to fight for a while when she met Nebula.

The other girl was a lumpomoid girl who had been there longer, according to what she could gather. They ended up training together, as they were the same age. Gamora noticed that, in most cases, Nebula looked up to her, so she did her best to make sure her younger sister only saw the best version of her. 

“How are you so good at fighting?” Nebula asked.

Gamora thought for a bit. She wasn’t good at fighting. She was about the same skill level as Nebula, barely being able to win against her on a good day.

What she was was the favorite of Thanos. And that was much, much worse.

“The truth is I’m not good. I know I’m not quite there yet, but if I just think about my enemy and imagine that they are my target, I can fight against them better, and defeat them,” Gamora said. 

“Who do you imagine?” Nebula asked.

“My worst enemy,” Gamora said.

“I would probably imagine Ebony Maw. He is annoying and hard to fight when we train together,” Nebula said. Gamora smiled at that. It was the first smile she shared in a long time. 

“Just think about how you want to beat him, and you should be able to win most fights,” Gamora said.

“You never did answer my question,” Nebula said. Gamora realized that she hadn’t, not really. And then she also realized that she couldn’t —Nebula looked up to her, yes, but Gamora wasn’t ready to let her know that their father was her enemy.

“I’ll tell you one day,” Gamora said, an air of finality in her voice.

Nebula nodded, giving her silent agreement as they went to spar again.

Thanos watched as his daughters fought, wondering who Gamora had been talking about. Maybe it was someone from Zen-Whoberi. The planet was a mess when he got there and, knowing Gamora’s status, someone must have messed with her.

She was a great warrior now, though, and he knew he favored her over the rest of her siblings. He would do almost anything for the young girl. Almost. 

~

Gamora realized that Thanos wanted to make them the best warriors through any means necessary.

He had already begun to have Nebula’s body cybernetically altered, but he’d have even more changes implemented every time  Nebula lost a fight.

Gamora would find her afterwards in tears. She’d pull Nebula close, and would whisper in her ear that everything would be okay. She didn’t know if it would be, but she could hope. She had to hope.

Nebula, on her part, would hold on to Gamora and ask her to make them stop. To make him stop.

Gamora hated Thanos even more for it. She didn’t like how he expected one of them to be better than the other when they were trained at the same level.

Nebula shouldn’t have to deal with this , Gamora thought to herself.

Nebula wondered then if her sister even cared or if this was all an act. A way to seem as if she cared when she was just trying to prove she was better than her younger sister. 

~

Gamora watched as her sister fought another girl. The other girl lost and was badly injured, and was taken away.

She watched her sister be cheered on until Proxima Midnight complained about her sister’s form. It was all that was said by her, but it was enough to have them question her.

Gamora was worried they would do something to Nebula, but nothing happened as she was sent out to fight again. Nebula took down her opponent with ease. She held the other girl down as Thanos and the others waited.

“Finish the fight,” a voice said.

“They are down,” Gamora said. Thanos looked at her and she knew what he wanted. She finished off her opponent. Their blood was on her hands.

When she was alone, she cried for the person she’d killed. She wasn’t heartless, yet the world was asking her to be, just for her to survive. She just wanted to go back to being that child who would be held safely in her mother’s arms.

Nebula was the only one to hear Gamora cry. It surprised her as she listened. Gamora never showed weakness. Nebula found the moment of weakness as a sign that maybe her sister did care. 

~

Gamora and Nebula had one mission: Grab the orb. The orb, however, wasn’t the orb that they thought it was. It was a trap for Thanos. The two were trapped.

Gamora managed to get herself out, but she saw Nebula struggling. She knew if she didn’t leave now, Thanos would be mad at her, but she couldn’t leave her sister. She had to make a hard decision as she left Nebula with a knife and an apology.

Thanos praised her, but Gamora disagreed with how she’d treated Nebula. 

“I will kill him and he will regret ever taking me from my people,” Gamora said.

Gamora had found out that her people no longer lived. The only family she had now was her sister and she had left her in search of revenge. 

~

Nebula eventually returned, but the once light relationship now was filled with hatred. Gamora could feel it as her sister looked at her as if she was the problem. Gamora tried to explain but Nebula would not listen.

 It was one day when Gamora finally found Nebula alone that she decided to tell her.

“You once asked me a question,” Gamora told her. Nebula looked at her, confused.

“I do not know what you talk about, Sister,” Nebula said.

“You once asked about who I imagine when I fight,” Gamora said. Nebula seemed to remember and nodded.

“I see Father,” Gamora said before leaving her sister. Nebula realized then that her sister was going to betray her father, but she told no one.

If anyone could defeat Thanos, it would be his favorite child.

Chapter Text

Pain was all he knew. Pain was the one who greeted him, when he first developed cognition: I am what they call pain , it told him. Pain was the first word in his rapidly-developing vocabulary.

Pain taught him to speak, taught him that he could speak, when he screamed for it to stop, against the probing of scalpels and other sharp objects that dug into his flesh and rearranged his organs, his cognitive wiring, his–

He screamed until his voice was hoarse, his throat dry, until he stopped because he knew, despite knowing that screaming was a way to signal discomfort, there was no guarantee that others would care. He stopped screaming when he realised nobody cared whether or not he was in pain.

Pain was all he knew. Pain, and a name. 89P13. 

Terrans, if they knew, would call it more of a code than a name. Terrans, if they knew, would call it dehumanising, for all that a raccoon wasn’t human.  

But Terrans didn’t know, and 89P13 had no use for sentiments, for names, for anything that wasn’t survival.

He started plotting.

Every second of every waking moment, he picked up words from his captors, assigned meanings to those words depending on the context they were spoken in, steadily nurturing his vocabulary until he could understand most of what was going on: He was an experiment, and a successful one at that.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there, slowly learning, slowly getting used to this foreign cognitive wiring. He picked up the useful words one day: password, door, scalpel, only four guards tomorrow, most of them are on scout duty.

He thought maybe this was what hope felt like.

Hope was chewing through his bindings through the pain in his teeth, chewing until he was sure his teeth would fall out. Hope was grabbing the nearest weapon and quickly learning how to fight. Hope was killing for the first time. Hope was revenge.

Years after he woke up in pain in a stark-white facility, he stepped out of his prison. He was scraped, bruised and his vision is blurry and had lost patches of fur in a few parts of his body, but he was free. He was free .

He looked up at the sky, squinting at the brightness that floods his vision, this is what they call sunlight.

When the God of the Terrans said step into the light , he wondered if this was what they meant, if the immense relief he felt was one of enlightenment.

He found an empty spot in a land he was unfamiliar with, and slept underneath the sun. Sweltering, suffocating, safe.

Sunlight might just have been his favourite word.

---

He was on another planet, after running a few errands to get enough money to tide him over. Life after captivity wasn’t easy, and not at all pain-free, but he’d take it over continuous poking and prodding and rewiring–

They chased him, of course they did. He was possibly one of the only successful experiments they had. 89P13, he now knew, wasn’t a name. It was a brand, a purchase receipt. 89P13 was their way of claiming property.

He stopped in his tracks and glanced at a discarded leaflet on a nearby bench. 

“Rocket to the Moon!” It read, with bright red and yellow colours. It was a strange device, almost like his self-fashioned spaceship, only pointier, and surrounded by flames. It looked cool. Rocket sounded cool .

And so Rocket he would be, a new name for a new start. Rocket, with the flames of his past behind him. Rocket, meaning he was no longer anyone’s property.

He continued running, planning heists for money, plotting and plotting and executing and surviving on what he knew.

Terrans, if they knew, would call him immoral. They would call him selfish, dishonest, greedy.

What did Terrans know?

Nobody cared about him, why should he care for anyone else? Nobody taught him morality, why should he be held accountable for that?

He lived only for himself. For Rocket. Running and running and running and more running until–

One day, he stopped in his tracks. It was almost a feeling of deja vu , like the previous time he stopped running, giving him just enough time to make a life-changing decision.

The first time he stopped, he gained a new name and a fresh start.

The second time he stopped, he gained what people called a friend. 

An odd pair they made, a raccoon and a tree-like being, but he had never been ashamed of being different, only bitter.

Always bitter.

Chapter Text

“Heya, tall guy, what are you doing in a place like this?”

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot.

“Huh. Weird reason, but I’ve heard weirder.”

I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"... Is that so?" 

I am Groot. 

"Well then, I'm Rocket."

I am Groot. 

"Yeah, I guess it's nice to meet you too. Do you need help with those bindings?" 

I am Groot? 

"Why? Hm, I guess it's because I know what it's like to be experimented on. It's not a pretty feeling, and you shouldn't have to go through it either." 

I am Groot… I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"What? No! You don't owe me anything!" 

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"I'm serious, I'm only doing this because I can't stand the sight of it. It's purely selfish."

I. Am. Groot. 

"... Well, you're a stubborn one, aren't you?" 

I am Groot! I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"Fine then, but don't expect me to call you my friend. I don't do friends."

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"Where are you headed, now that you're free? There's a whole world waiting for you."

I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"Haha. That's funny."

I am Groot. 

"... Wait, you're serious." 

I am Groot! I am GROOT! 

"Yeah, not gonna happen, pal. I do risky stuff. Barely make enough to survive. You're better off on your own."

I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"I'm sure you'll be fine, you're a smart tree."

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"Compelling argument, but no."

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"..." 

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"..."

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"Alright, alright, I hear you. You get one chance."

I am Groot! I am Groot! I am Groot! 

"Yeah, yeah, don't get excited just yet, pal. If you mess up my missions, you're off the team."

I am Groot! 

"You're welcome?" 

I am Groot. I am Groot. I am Groot. 

I am Groot? 

"Yeah, I was on my way to a mission. Stealing some rare gem or another, you know how it goes." 

I am Groot. I am Groot. 

"Well, come on then. Let's see how good you are as a sidekick."

I am Groot! 

Chapter Text

Drax listened to the story about his father impregnating his mother as a young boy, and thought about how he would someday find someone to love as his father had found his mother.

He wasn’t all that confident he would ever find someone like that, though. He was actually at a war rally when they met. Ovette was her name and he was entranced by how she was not like anyone else.

 others would dance, Ovetter would just stay still. Something that Drax did as well.

He introduced himself to the woman. Drax felt that he was the best love for him, as they were similar. Love worked like that in his mind—similar people were destined for each other.

~

It wasn’t long after their first meeting that Drax and Ovette married. The two lived happily for that bit. It was a nice marriage and Drax knew he picked the perfect woman to be his wife. He made sure she was happy not that it wasn’t hard to please Ovette. Ovette loved Drax as much as he loved her.

 they had a daughter named Kamaria. Kamaria looked like Ovette more than Drax. She was the moon that shone in the darkness. Drax had been happy and, as his father did, told her the story of how he impregnated her mother as a bedtime story. It was the way of the Kylosian people.

In Drax’s mind nothing could ever go wrong. They were together and they were happy. Drax was able to hold his daughter and keep her safe from anything bad. That was how the world should be in Drax’s mind.

No one wiil hurt Kamaria or Ovette , he thought, not as long as I am alive .

Drax was right, for the time being, and that was all that mattered to the family as they continued to live in their tribunal community. 

~

Thanos had sent Ronan to bring his ideals into practice. Ronan had arrived and his forces attacked the Kylosian people by surprise.

Drax didn’t understand where these war stations came from, as his people did not fight the Kree normally. The people were gathered and Ronan had them separated. Drax was placed on one side, as his family was place on the other side, away from him.

Drax saw them;  father and mother, Ovette, and Kamaria on the other side. He watched as they called for them to be killed.

Ronan had smiled as the killing happened, as if these people were nothing. He believed that the Kree were the best species, but that was just Ronan’s opinion. Anything that wasn’t Kree was below, and should be treated as such in his mind.

Drax tried to get to his family, as did others, but the chitaru held them at bay. Drax was so caught up in his own thoughts, he never saw his wife cover his daughter as they both fell, his daughter hidden behind bodies and safe from the death and destruction.

Kamaria survived. She would later be found by her people after her father left. Drax would never know, though, as he left his home to get revenge on Ronan for killing his family.

He had one mindset from that day on: He was going to kill Ronan and anyone connected to his family’s death. He would get his vengeous for what they did to his young daughter and his wife. 

~

Drax had gained a reputation. People called him Drax the Destroyer because he would kill mercilessly, according to some. He went after people he found who would know anything about Ronan and where the murderous kree could have been. Drax wanted his revenge on the Kree warrior. He harmed anyone with information as he got closer and closer to find his target.

He had heard a rumor of a man who may have the answers. Upon finding the man and getting the info that he needed, using the only method he worked, he found out who Ronan was working for: Thanos. A new enemy.

He figured once he found Ronan that he would take care of Thanos as well. Thanos might be a bigger target but the man was why his wife and daughter were now dead. He had lost everything that day to a man whose only goal was to harm others and take everything from them, or so Drax thought. He didn’t know anything about Thanos. He didn’t know what he was planning, or how he would take care of the man responsible for his wife’s death. 

~

Drax had just got done killing another man when Nova found him. It took multiple Nova corpsmen to take down Drax and bring him in. He was sentenced to Klyn. Drax was brought in quickly and he stayed by himself.

Most of the criminals in Klyn had heard stories about Drax and knew that he was dangerous. Drax knew he would need to eventually find a way to escape, as well as a way to get back at Ronan and Thanos, but for now he was okay with staying in the walls of Kyln as he tried to figure out his next move in his plot of revenge against the kree warrior, Ronan. 

Chapter Text

Quill had just wanted to sell the orb.

Garmora had just wanted to defeat her adopted father.

Rocket and Groot just wanted a pay day.

And Drax wanted revenge on those who had murdered his family.

So when Gamora saw the orb that Thanos was after, and Rocket and Groot found Quill who had a bounty on his head… well. The fight was on to get what they each wanted.

So when Nova caught them and sent them to the highly secure prison, the group had plans to escape that Rocket was figuring out.

It was in the prison that they met Drax.

Something about Drax reminded Gamora of someone she had once met. She couldn’t place who, though.

Once they got out with Drax, Gamora told them where to head so they could sell the orb.

Quill was falling for  Gamora, though. He didn’t know what it was about her. Maybe it was because she was different then the others. He didn’t know, but something about her was amazing. He had dated many men and women over the years, but something about Gamora was special and Quill loved it.

Her warrior physique was different from the usual people that he brought onto the Milano. Quill would have to figure out if it was just him being intimidated by her, or if there was something else that he didn’t notice before that was pulling him towards her.

Gamora, though, mainly focused on her mission, was starting to see another side of Quill. He might have been a bit annoying, and a thief, but he was also kind and had a past that she could relate to. Being adopted all those years ago by someone who only cared about them for what they could do for them instead of who they were.

Yondu was nicer to Quill than Thanos was to her but there was still the issue on why they were adopted. The group of misfits got to the place to sell the orb. After a moment between the two, they had to deal with the other three idiots.

Gamora just wanted to be away from these people while Quill wanted to escape, knowing Yondu was after him because of the orb. When they saw the power of the orb, though, the group knew they were in over their heads.

Rocket was freaking out. The others were panicked too, but then Ronan showed up and the group had to get out of there with the orb so Ronan didn’t get a hold of it.

The group got into ships to get the orb away, and Nebula and a team followed. Nebula had almost taken the shot, but her sister was very important to her. She was someone who could help them.

Someone else ended up taking the shot, and Gamora was out there in space. Quill couldn’t lose her, even though they just met. Quill got to her and put his mask on knowing that he had a small chance after he sent out the message. He just knew he had to save Gamora. She needed to live. He couldn’t live without her. The memory of what had happened with his mother still was there, branded into in his brain.

Quill couldn’t lose another person, not someone he cared about. Not again.

He saved Gamora, and luckily got saved too. He knew that Yondu would probably kill him, but he didn’t care. He had saved Gamora—that was all that mattered.

Once they talked Yondu into their plan, and not killing Quill, and got the other members there, they formed their plan to take down Ronan once and for all.

The team of misfits worked together to save the Galaxy, with Groot giving his life to the cause—but not without leaving behind a child that the Guardians would have to raise.  The team ended up working together and saving the universe. Nebula ran off as soon as the battle was over, not wanting to face the disappointment of her sister.

They would later find out that Quill wasn’t human, and would even later find Nebula, but for now they had just won a battle and lost one of their members. Their records would be wiped clean, but on that day when they won that battle, they became the Guardians of the Galaxy. The team that saved the Galaxy from Ronan’s wrath.

Gamora and Quill avoided talking about his sacrifice for her. The team ended up coming together to defeat Ronan. Now they were going to stick together with a baby Groot which they didn’t understand but maybe they would some day. Team parenting was to come from this.

~

Baby Groot didn’t understand Dad Drax. He just knew not to dance in front of him. It was something that Dad Quill had told him to do.

He started to dance and then felt Dad Drax waking up so he paused. Dad Drax closed his eyes again and Groot began to dance until he felt his eyes opening again.

This continued until Dad Rocket saw and tried to hold back a laugh. Dad Rocket ended up bursting out laughing, which confused Dad Drax even more.

Groot felt proud.

What he didn’t know was Dad Quill got a ear full from Mom later on for teaching their child to be rude, especially to Dad Drax.