A/N: So I keep having GOTG 2 one-shot ideas and I was gonna make this chp3 of In These Times of Hardship, Just Remember: We Are Groot, but there wasn't really a segway this time and I don't feel like changing that story's summary again. Plus, I can't add enough main characters. So yay, new solo one-shot! And it got finished (but not posted) before midnight! 'Tis a marvelous occurrence. Pun totally intended.

Mantis was wandering the corridors, trailing her fingers along the metal walls and admiring their ugliness and filth, when she happened upon him. Ego's son, the Celestial's last and only surviving child, stood staring at his hand, concentrating so hard that he looked constipated.

"What are you doing?" she inquired, bringing her hands together.

Ego's son jumped dramatically, rapidly hiding his hand behind his back. "Geez, Mantis, don't sneak up on me like that!"

Mantis felt her antennae droop as she dropped her gaze. "I am sorry," she mumbled, turning away.

"No, wait," he said quickly, gently. He reached for her, then withdrew his hand, remembering her powers. "I'm sorry. You just startled me, that's all."

Mantis watched his hand, tilting her head curiously. Ego had never reached for her that way – was it normal? She thought so. Ego's son and Gamora seemed to use their hands quite frequently to physically express affection for each other. But then, they held a different relationship than the others.

She squeezed her hands, terminating the line of thought. It was not a gesture of affection she would ever be able to use freely. Instead, she repeated "What were you doing?"

He tucked both hands behind his back, a flash of white emerging from his mouth as he bit his lip. "I was, uh- What are you doing?" he stammered quickly.

Deflection, Mantis told herself. Ego had used it often when she dared question his actions towards his children. Should she respond to his question, or pursue her own?

Respond, she decided. "I was exploring. I do not often encounter things which are ugly and dirty," she explained, nodding at the rough walls.

Ego's son blinked. "Oh. Um… Interesting."

Mantis leaned back a little, tightening her fingers. "You do not seem sincere," she observed, a little hurt.

"I, uh, just don't really think ugly and dirty is all that interesting," he explained quickly, glancing away awkwardly.

"Flaws are intriguing when you grow up in a place as perfect as Ego's planet. Also, Drax tells me that it is good to be ugly," Mantis told him earnestly, her antennae reaching out happily. "He says it means you know people love who for who you are."

He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. "Huh, I guess that's actually a good point," he murmured, half to himself. Then he added hurriedly, "But you're not ugly, Mantis."

She tilted her head at him, her antennae turning towards each other in confusion. "But Drax says I am ugly. Is it not universal, what is and is not ugly?"

"Nope," Ego's son answered, relaxing as the topic became less personal. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For instance, Drax would never date Gamora for her looks, but I think she's the most beautiful woman in the galaxy."

Abruptly, Ego's son froze, his eyes widening as he realized what he had said. "Don't tell anyone I said that."

"But we already know you are in love. What does it matter if we know you think she is beautiful?" Mantis asked, confused.

Once again, he hesitated before he spoke, staring thoughtfully at nothing. "That's a good point too."

If she asked now, she could catch him off-guard – it had often worked on Ego. "So what were you doing?" Mantis tried again.

"Trying to use my powers," he replied absently. And promptly snapped his mouth shut.

"But your powers do not work anymore," Mantis pointed out, as if she were talking to a small child.

Frustration flitted across his face as he tried to explain, his words coming out disjointed and useless, until ultimately he just stuck his hand out. "Do your empath thing."

Grateful for the permission, Mantis took hold of his hand. And gasped. He felt so different from before. It was as if part of him were missing, a bright piece of his soul replaced by the hollowness of grief and longing. Tears sprang to her eyes, and Ego's son quickly pulled his hand away.

No, not Ego's son, she thought. That is the dead part – the light. He may look like a younger Ego, but he is no longer part of Ego.

"You miss your powers," Mantis concluded quietly, wiping away her tears.

Peter nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and turning away from her, but she was an expert on waiting in patient silence. With a sigh, he reluctantly began to explain. "I know I only had them for less than a day, but they… they gave me something. Humans… we're the galaxy's weaklings. I'm more fragile than Groot, dumber than Rocket, weaker than Drax, and slower than Gamora. I need all sorts of technology to do what they can do. I can't protect them – they just end up protecting me. But those powers… I was finally more than a footnote. I could've protected Gamora from even Thanos. And now… I'm just another Terran again."

"Perhaps you should be glad of that," Mantis suggested, wringing her fingers together. "Powers always have a downside."

"Like what?" Peter grumbled. "I could've died to save them and then not actually died. Actually, I think that happened before, when I first met Gamora and jumped into space to save her. What's so bad about that?"

"Immortality is lonely," Mantis murmured. "I think that is why Ego kept me. I helped him stave off the loneliness, both with sleep and company."

"He didn't have to be lonely," Peter growled. Mantis winced at the wrath in his voice. "He could've spared my mother and we could've been a happy family, the two of us together for eternity."

"But you still would have fallen in love with mortals," Mantis pointed out. "I know many species believe in an afterlife where they reunite with the deceased. Would you have been happy, knowing you would never see your mother again, or Gamora? A life without family is no life at all."

"And what would you know about that?" Peter snapped, whirling to face her.

In a rare moment of anger, Mantis retorted, her fists clenching around each other. "For better or for worse, Ego was my father, too! And now he is gone because I helped you betray him."

Contrition flashed across Peter's face, followed immediately by exhaustion as he slumped against the wall.

Mantis spoke again, quietly, her anger gone in the wake of grief. "My power has its own curse. I cannot freely touch anyone, and I already lack social abilities without that hindrance."

Peter studied his hand again. "I just want to keep them safe," he murmured. "They're all I have."

Mantis hesitantly reached out and rested a hand on his sleeve. "From what Drax tells me, you do keep them safe. You keep them from making grave mistakes, you cheer them up when they are sad, and you would die for them without hesitating. That is worth far more to them than a ball of light, Peter."

"No offense, but how do you know?" Peter asked, lifting his gaze to the glow of her antennae.

"Because I have felt Drax's feelings," Mantis answered simply. "And I felt Gamora's fear for you when she attacked me. And I am certain the others feel the same." When he remained silent, she continued. "I was waking up a little when we took off from Ego's surface. I heard Gamora say she would not leave you behind, and I heard Rocket say he could only lose one friend, and I heard Drax desperately calling for you. They would all rather have you, with or without your powers."

Peter looked deep into her eyes. "You don't lie, do you?" he asked, though it almost sounded like a statement.

Mantis shook her head. "Not very well. I have rarely had a reason to lie directly."

Finally, he smiled, weak but honest. "Then I guess I can learn to live without my powers again."

Mantis smiled back, and for once, it came naturally. "That is good."

Suddenly, Peter yawned.

"When did you last sleep?" Mantis checked, bracing him as he wobbled.

Peter paused, as if thinking back. "It's been a while," he finally answered.

"Come," she ordered, tugging him forward. Without protest, he followed her to his room and flopped down on his bed. She settled beside him, cross-legged, and summoned everything she'd felt from the other Guardians. Resting her hand on his forehead, she used these feelings to fill the void left by Ego's death, replacing that loss and longing with love and belonging. Peter closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh.

"Rest," she whispered.

And finally, he did.