An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
"If we're married,â he says, folding his hands over the desk, âthey can't legally make me testify against you."
The first actual sign of life from her in well over a minute is a brief roll of her eyes. "I know what spousal privilege is, Dr. Grace."
Or: after the launch of the Hail Mary, a late-night idea that may or may not be ill-advised
rated g, 1254 words, canon divergent au (dubois goes on the hail mary as the science officer as originally planned), however you wanna read strattland and their weird (affectionate) dynamic
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: the oldest story in the universe
Author: maplecroft
Language: English
Words:Â 8741
Rating: M
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Elisabet Sobeck, Tilda van der Meer
Relationships: Elisabet Sobeck/Tilda van der Meer
Tags: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Falling in Love at the End of the World
Summary:Â "You were leaning on the bridge, admiring the sunset. A tableau vivant." |Â Elisabet, Tilda, and the history of their love.
Some absolutely lovely artwork for this fic was done by the very talented villanargh. Please go give her some love!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Meredith Quill & Peter Quill, Gamora/Peter Quill, Peter Quill & Yondu Udonta
Characters: Peter Quill, Meredith Quill
Additional Tags: Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Sad with a Happy Ending, Mother-Son Relationship, Mother's Day, Everyone Needs A Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Purgatory, kind of?, Peter Quill Needs a Hug, The reunion we deserve, happy motherâs day!, I have a lot of feelings, mostly wrote this for myself, One Shot
Summary:
Peter Quill got wiped from existence with the snap, but finds himself, somehow, back in Missouri.
 Just yesterday mornin', they let me know you were gone
 Suzanne the plans they made put an end to you
 I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
 I just can't remember who to send it to....
Peter groaned; his eyes slipped open just a crack. It was shockingly dark, much darker than where he had just been. He couldnât remember falling asleep or even closing his eyes for that matter, but really, he couldnât remember much at all. There was a vague notion in the back of his mind, dwindling and nagging like a dream on the edge of forgetting.
The color of burning. The smell of decay. The pang of guilt, of loss. Mantis. Drax. Gamora.... Gamora!
He sat up with a sudden gasp, grass and dirt falling from the side his face. Panting anxiously, his eyes desperately strained to adjust while they darted around in his head like a jackrabbit. Slowly, surely, the world around him began to come into focus and for a moment, he couldnât believe what he seemed to be seeing. Something he hadnât seen since he was a kid - corn stalks, barely illuminated against the backdrop of night sky, reaching up all around him. They were not fully grown, five feet at most and just beginning to bud from what he could tell, swaying and rustling in the warm night air.
It was a far cry from where he had just been. In fact, it was Terra..... Earth. Or, at least, it seemed to be. But he couldnât understand how he couldâve got there, without his ship, plopped into the middle of a field.
....You've just got to see me through another day
 My body's aching and my time is at hand
 I won't make it any other way
 I've seen fire and I've seen rain
 I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend...
The faint melody carried on the wind, sounding closer or farther with each passing breeze. Peter found himself humming every note. âBut I always thought that I'd see you again....â But his Walkman was gone, and the Zune was somewhere back on the Benatar, wherever it was. Struggling a bit, he picked himself up off the ground and stood, his head lifted a good foot or more above the tops of the stalks.
He turned in place for a few moments, taking in his surroundings. The dancing sea of deep green against the inky midnight sky sprawled out in front of him as far as his eyes could see. But a couple hundred yards to his left sat a car. A real, terran car, just like.....
He took a quick step forward and froze, his heart pounding in his chest. It couldnât be. But then Peter gradually found his feet carrying him through the field faster and faster, the corn leaves slapping against his body as he rushed past, the smell of the damp, humid soil filling his lungs with each breath. Suddenly, he broke from the edge of the field into a clearing and stopped dead. Just in front of him was the bumper of a rundown, old hatchback. And stretched out on the hood attached to that bumper lay a peaceful, lounging Meredith Quill. Her eyes were closed but the small smile playing on her delicate face insinuated that she wasnât sleeping. Strawberry blonde ringlets of hair danced around her. She looked young and alive and..... healthy.
âThere's just a few things coming my way this time around now....â she was softly singing to herself, completely unaware of his presence.
Peter could feel his whole body swelling with emotion, emotion that defied all logic and sent him reeling. Words were catching in his throat, as tears began to well in his eyes.
âM-mom?â he finally felt himself ask aloud.
Meredithâs eyes slowly opened, and with the same calm grace, she leaned up on her elbows to face him.
âPeter,â she breathed, sounding somewhere between relief and confusion. âPeter...... is it really you?â
His mouth was open and his lip was trembling, but all he could manage was a slight shake of his head. Blinking back the tears, he stammered, âYeah..... Iâm me. Iâm Peter. Your son.â
The way his mom looked at him felt warm and understanding, yet equally full of question. She lifted a hand to reach out to him.
âCome here, baby,â she said, tinged with the honey sweetness of that slight southern drawl. âI can hardly see you.â
Peter stepped closer. He put out his hand and hovered just above hers, feeling a hitch in his breath. It was all too familiar. A stray tear found its way down his cheek. Meredith moved to curl her fingers around his, and suddenly Peter could breath again. Carefully, he enveloped her hand in his, feeling the full weight of all the years past in the way it dwarfed hers.
âYour hands are so rough,â she remarked, before her eyes flicked up to his face. She studied him for a long moment. âLook at you, Peter, youâve gotten so big..... the big, strong man I always knew you would be.â
Peter breathed a little laugh, dropping his head to his chest. His mother sat up, reaching to cup his cheek with her other hand. Her soft fingers brushed across all the dirt and cuts and scars, raised slightly even under the stubble of his facial hair. Even in the night, she could tell how battle-worn he had been. A far cry from her little boy, but still reminiscent of the days heâd come home hiding a black eye.
âYou been fighting those bullies again, baby? Out saving helpless little frogs who ainât done nothinâ?â she asked, a brilliant smile lighting up her face.
Peter tried to smile back. âYeah..... you could say that. Only.... I think the bullies mightâve won this time, mom.â
His motherâs hand slowly slid down his chin, then gently dropped to his arm, trailing along it to grasp his hand with both of her own. âCome sit with me, Peter.â
With some awkward difficulty, he complied, struggling to scoot onto the hood of the car without scratching it with the element blasters on his thighs. Carefully adjusting, he lowered his back against the windshield until he was laying side by side with his mother. Just like theyâd do when he was a kid. Only this time he was considerably larger than her. His hand rested open beside him, and she softly placed her hand upon it.
And for a long moment, they just laid there, staring up at the sky. Above them was sprawled the Milky Way, spattered with distant stars. He had forgotten how wide and open and endless the skies in Missouri appeared. But perhaps it was easy to forget when the galaxy was spread out before you on a daily basis, and you had traversed it end to end.
âMom,â he finally said, breaking the silence. âI think Iâm dead.â
The wind picked up around them, catching in his auburn hair, and on it came the earthen smell of rain. A smell he hadnât quite experienced in such a way for a long time.
âNo, Peter,â she said. âYouâre home.â
The hush of the swaying corn stalks fell between them. On the horizon, mountains of cumulonimbus clouds, gargantuan and stunning in their beauty, sparkled with lightning. A distant roll of thunder came sweeping across the plains. It reminded him of the same energy that had lived inside himself. Though always a Missourian and a Terran at heart, he was destined among the stars.
Peter swallowed hard, but tears began to trail down his jaw. Â
âThis isnât my home anymore.â
He looked over at his mother, afraid he had hurt her with his words. But she was just looking at him, silent, yet her eyes begging to know why.
Clearing his throat, Peter continued.
âI found a family, mom - not.... not that you arenât my family, and not that we didnât have one, but you were..... gone.... and I was taken. Against my will, at first, but Yondu, well.... he turned out to be the dad I never had. And my real dad - mom, you wouldnât..... I canât believe what he... well, he just wasnât what you thought he was. He wasnât what I thought he was, either.â
âYou found your father? Where was he?â Meredith asked, her voice full of wonder.
âActually, he found me,â he said, hesitating to find his next words. How could he ever admit to his impassioned mother that the love of her life had put a cancer in her brain, forced her suffer a slow and painful death, and tried to use her only child as a god battery to fuel his plan of galactic destruction and power? That the love of her life was a murderous, filicidal planet?
âMom, you didnât need him.... and I didnât need him either. He wanted me to be a god like him, but... I just wanted to be like you. Besides, you were the strongest person Iâve ever known. You still are. Way stronger than he could ever be.â
Tears were welling up in Meredithâs eyes as she looked at her son.
âAnd I already had a dad, like I said. Yondu was tough on me, but he helped me survive this far, even if he threatened to eat me sometimes. And he was really cool, he had this arrow he could control just by whistling, which is about as neat as you can get. Oh, and he was blue. You woulda liked him, probably... eventually. When my Walkman broke, he gave me a Zune, and you wouldnât believe how many songs that holds.â
She chuckled at Peter, always so enthusiastic and animated, just like she remembered.
âWhat happened to him?â she asked.
He glanced down at the stars reflecting in the carâs glossy paint.
âHe saved my life.â
She smiled softly, stroking Peterâs hand with her thumb, feeling the pain of his loss but also gratitude for his sacrifice.
âThen he really mustâve been a good father. Iâm grateful you had him, Peter.â
âMe too,â he said. âHe wasnât my only family, though. I have Rocket and Groot, Drax, Mantis, this crazy blue chick named Nebula who hates me but thatâs okay, and then her sister...... Gamora.â His voice cracked.
Suddenly, he remembered hitting that ugly purple bastard in this head over and over and over and over, yelling at the top of his lungs....
âGamora?â Meredith asked, noting her sonâs blank stare and the way his voice had trailed off.
âI lost her....â
Another deep rumble of thunder rolled through the silence between them, he could feel it reverberate in the body of the car beneath him. He cursed himself and his foolishness under his breath. Suddenly, a drop of water landed on his nose. Then his cheek, and his hand, until the sky opened up above them and rain began to fall steadily. Among it all, Peter finally allowed himself to cry.
Meredith Quill, reclaiming all the years she had lost, wrapped her arms around her trembling son and pulled him into the crook of her neck. His cries were coming out in choked sobs and ragged gasps for air. She sang quietly into his ear, âLord knows when the cold wind blows, it'll turn your head around.... well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come, sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground....â
She didnât even need to ask to know how special this woman was to him. How deeply loved. And she hoped - no, she knew - he had been deeply loved back.
Gradually, Peter began to calm down to the sound of her voice. He wiped his cheeks with the palm of his hand, despite the rain slowly drenching them anyway.
âThen go find her, Peter,â his mother whispered.
He looked up at her with his reddened, moss-colored eyes like a scared child once more. He squared his jaw as he sat up to look at directly.
âI.... I donât know how.â
She took another look over him, all dressed in leather with his gadgets and guns, just like when he would dress up like Indian Jones and run around in the woods fighting bad guys. Only.... a spacefaring Indiana Jones now. There was nothing in this galaxy he couldnât find, she was sure of it.
Wrapping her arms tightly around him again, Meredith rested her head on his shoulder. He sank into her hug, holding her as close as he could manage.
âYou found me again, didnât you?â she said, fighting back her own tears. Peter squeezed his eyes shut.
âI love you, mom.â
âI love you too, my brave little Star-Lord....â
The rain stopped. The wind went still. The scent of burning filled the air.
Peter opened his eyes and looked down at his empty arms. There he sat once more on the planet of rubble, completely dry.
tomorrow is a new day and on this new day i am finishing both my thesis proposal (optimistic but possible) and my secret santa (also optimistic but possible.) iâm starting my 2018 goal of being a productive person early. or something.
