A/N: GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 2 SPOILERS BELOW.

Asdfghjkl this movie was amazing. It was funny and heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once. Like a drama wrapped in a fun sci-fi superhero package. I'm in love. And also completely, totally devastated because THAT is not what I wanted for Ego at all. I knew going in that the guy was a jerk, but dang... I know why they went that direction and I'm not bashing the movie, but I really wanna "fix" pretty much everything after the big murderous reveal because there is so much awesome potential for humor and family awesomeness if Ego and Yondu live and Peter has superpowers. I mean, just imagine Peter fighting Thanos as PAC-MAN. I could honestly go on and on about the "Imagine this" stuff.

Alas, this is not the fic in which that happens. This is the fic that accepts canon because it really was a brilliant movie. Which I am seeing again tomorrow. And I can't wait.

Gamora's foot bounced a wild rhythm as she waited, waited, waited for the door to open. The ship throbbed around her, its noises revving up as the beam activated to drag in the stranded men. Footsteps pounded towards her from behind, ringing against the worn metal flooring, from the heavy thuds of Drax's steps to the faint clicking of Rocket's claws. But despite their momentum, Gamora was the first to reach the two people who tumbled through the small opening.

Only one moved.

"No," Peter rasped, scrambling to all fours over Yondu. "No no no, Yondu! Don't leave me, please don't leave me," he begged, shaking the ice-covered man.

Gamora dropped to her knees, reaching out to check for a pulse, but only icy stillness greeted her fingertips. Yondu's stare held nothing, no hint of emotion as his adopted son shook him and begged him to live, his cheeks shining with tears.

"He's gone, Peter," Gamora murmured, reaching hesitantly for Peter's hand.

He jerked his hand away, turning an angry, tear-filled gaze on her. "No!" he protested. He glanced up at the others, who stood in the doorway, stunned into silence. "Somebody do something!"

Rocket, his own eyes glistening, took a step closer. "Quill…"

Peter stiffened, clawing at the spacesuit he wore. "You," he snarled. "You gave him this stuff, didn't you? You gave him everything he needed to die!"

Rocket held his paws up in surrender. "I tried, Quill. I tried to stop him. But he… he said he wanted to do right by you, just this once."

"You think this is doing right by me?" Peter yelled, shaking Yondu's lifeless body. "Both of my fathers just died in my arms!"

"Yondu may have known that would happen," Drax pointed out quietly. "But it is better to see your child live through grief than to not live at all."

Something changed in Peter's expression, the agony-powered rage shifting to something more broken, but still he tried to protest. "But he-"

A final shockwave rocked the ship.

Peter broke off with a gasp. His limbs gave him and he hit the floor with a clang. White energy sparked around his fingers, grey light flashing through his irises. His chest heaved and his jaw gaped in a soundless scream; his hand found a fistful of Yondu's jacket and clenched, his knuckles turning snow white.

It all happened before Gamora could even blink.

"Peter!" she cried, lunging to grab him. But he lashed out at her touch, blinded by panic and pain. Tired from her desperate escape and aching from when Rocket shot her, he easily batted her aside. Drax was there in a heartbeat, pinning Peter's arms to his torso before he could hurt himself. Gamora pushed herself upright and pried Peter's hand free of Yondu's jacket, then clamped down on his kicking legs and helped Drax carry him to the infirmary.

-GOTG-

When Peter opened his eyes again, everything hurt. Blinking slowly, he squinted in confusion, wondering why he was back in a Ravager infirmary. What passed for an infirmary, anyway. It was far from a clean establishment, looking much like the crowded, rusty, rundown rest of the ship, but-

Yondu.

Memories crashed over him like a tidal wave. Memories of dads and fathers, of love and betrayal, of lost and found, of joy and grief.

Of life and death.

He tried to sit up, but a pair of paws pushed him back down, gentle but firm. Peter didn't protest, a killer headache erupting as soon as he moved. He flopped back down and turned his head, cracking open one eye to look at his teammate. Shimmering teardrops had caught in the fur on his muzzle, but he made no move to wipe them off.

"How ya feelin'?" Rocket asked, his voice raspy.

"Crappy," Peter responded, feebly lifting a hand to rub his head.

Rocket hopped off his seat and rummaged in a drawer, eventually returning to Peter's bedside and holding out an open bottle of pain pills. "The planet dying apparently hurt you, too. Nothin' major, just enough to knock you flat and make ya nuts for about half an hour. Then ya crashed for a couple hours. Looks like you'll be fine with some rest."

Peter picked out a pill and dry swallowed it, letting his eye shut for a moment. "Being half Celestial comes with all the perks," he joked drily.

Rocket snorted. "Totally."

Silence reigned for a few moments, until Peter finally found the strength to say "Uh, listen, what I said… about you being responsible-"

Rocket waved a paw dismissively. "Naw man, I get it. Ya just lost both of your remaining parents, and I did give Yondu the tools to die. I should carry more stuff in the future," he added bitterly.

Peter refrained from shaking his head at the last second. "You couldn't have known," he murmured. He turned his head away. "I should've fought harder, better. Moved faster."

"No, Quill, you can't-"

"I froze," Peter snapped, opening both eyes as he looked back at Rocket. "Ego disintegrated and I just sat there. I-"

"No!" Rocket snarled. "You do not get to blame this on yourself. This was all Ego. It was his decision to have you and get you to that cursed planet and nearly get all of us killed. Any reaction you had was uncontrollable. Douchebag or not, your father just died, Quill, by our hands, by my bomb. Ya don't just walk away from that."

Peter stared at Rocket, searching for some hint of a lie, but there was only aggressive honesty beneath the layer of unshed tears. "When did you start giving inspiring emotional speeches?" he muttered, letting his eyes close as the meds began to hit him.

Rocket took a moment to respond, and Peter was almost too asleep to hear the quiet voice when he finally did.

"When Yondu turned into my dad, too."

-GOTG-

After Nebula left, Gamora made her way back to the infirmary. Rocket sat in a chair watching over Peter, his tail curled around his legs while his head and arms rested on the armrest.

"How is he?" Gamora asked, walking up to Peter's side.

Rocket shrugged a little. "His head hurts, I think, so I let him have a pain pill. And he feels… stuff."

Gamora arched a brow at that vagueness. "Stuff, hm? I am not surprised."

"I'd have yer head checked out if you weren't," Rocket grunted. "Dude's had one helluva day. We all have."

She picked up Peter's hand, wondering if that electric white power would run through it ever again. For the moment, she forgot that she wasn't supposed to acknowledge their unspoken thing in any way. He had gained much in the last day, and promptly lost it all.

No, she told herself, rubbing her thumb in small circles over the back of his hand. Not all.

"But he's here," she pointed out, lifting her gaze to Rocket. "As am I. As are Drax, Mantis, Kraglin, Groot, and the entire universe. Thanks to you."

Rocket started to shrug, then cut himself off. And offered up a feeble smile instead. "You're welcome."

Gamora leaned over Peter, and Rocket stretched up to meet her. She lightly kissed the top of his head. "You're a hero, Rocket. You're our family. Don't let anyone tell you you're anything less."

Rocket smiled.

And promptly fell off the chair.

"Ow," he grumbled.

Gamora just chuckled.

It was good to know that, despite everything, there was smiling and laughter in their futures.

-GOTG-

Once Peter was awake and ready to give a eulogy, they gathered for the funeral. Afterwards, everyone disappeared, going their own ways. Peter had gone off to curl up with his new music player; Drax and Mantis were playing a game in Drax's quarters; Kraglin was piloting the ship; and Gamora and Rocket had gone off by themselves. Groot had stayed with Drax and Mantis for a little while, but now he was bored. So he toddled off to find someone else.

It didn't take too long, especially considering Groot's stubby legs took a little while to carry him down a single hallway. But soon enough, he heard thin strands of music, and followed the sound to its source: Peter's quarters. With some effort, he convinced the door to open and walked inside, greeted by a rather small room with some rickety dressers, a bed, and not much else. On one dresser sat the Zune, quietly playing an unfamiliar song.

On that bed lay Peter, Gamora, and Rocket.

Peter lay flat on his back, still fully clothed. Gamora stretched out on her side, pressed against him, her arm draped over his chest and her head nestled on his shoulder. Rocket had curled up atop Gamora, his fluffy tail draping over her arm and Peter's chest. Groot smiled to himself, happy to see the ever-bickering trio peaceful and harmonious at last.

Sleep sounded like a good idea, Groot realized as he watched their chests rise and fall in sleepy unison. Carefully, he clambered onto the bed and crawled onto Peter, headed for his customary spot by Rocket. As he settled amidst the fluffy tail fur, the tail curled around him – and kept curling, until it held Peter's hand, Gamora's hand, and Groot in one embrace.

Had he been a cat, Groot would've purred. Instead, as he slipped into sleep, Groot whispered the words they didn't know he knew.

"We are Groot."