Spider-Man Imagines II

I Hope They Remember You (part eight) | Peter Parker (TH)

reposting bc for whatever reason the comments are screwing up

i love y'all but you guys make me so sad. stop trying to guilt trip me for not writing what you don't want. i don't care. 

and this story CAN'T HAVE SPOILERS. THE MOVIE ISN'T OUT YET. some of y'all are still saying it has spoilers and i'm just-

//

"Dad," you said, "I don't want you to look at me like I'm already gone."

He didn't look up from his hands. 

You stood in front of him, Peter at your side. He looked at you before frowning and crossing the ship, leaving you alone with your dad.

You stood in front of your father, who hadn't moved since Gamora had uttered the words that changed your life and everyone around you forever. 

"Daddy," you said. Your voice was small like a child's. 

He shook his head. "No, no..." His voice was muffled by his palms. "I... I can't. I can't do this." Finally, he lifted his head. There were no tears, but his eyes were red. "I can't outlive my kid."

"You might have to," you said, kneeling in front of him. Your voice was steady and, somehow, strong. You didn't feel like you could comfort people right now, but here you were, trying to coax your dad out of this despair. "Look. This isn't what I wanted to hear. This isn't what I wanted us to go through... ever, but especially now. But I think we should focus on the war. I'm not dying yet a-and I feel stronger than ever. Really. Let me help, Dad."

His eyes searched your face. "I don't know what I'm going to do when you're gone," he whispered.

You didn't know to do anything but hug him.

...

Days must have been going by, but it was hard to tell when you only saw the colorful swirls of space. You spent most of your days with Peter, because you two (and the teenage tree the Guardians were raising for whatever reason) were the only ones not involved in any planning.

"This is nothing like Star Wars," Peter mumbled, sitting on the floor with you. He stared at the patches of magenta, orange, purple, and white that colored the endless black abyss. "Where are the TIE fighters? The Death Stars?" He frowned and shook his head. "What a disappointment." 

You snickered and kicked at him. "You're such a dork."

He grinned. 

A shuffled from behind you made you turn your head. Peter did, too, and you saw the raccoon that was always hanging around the tree. 

"Hey," Peter said. "Uh, Rocket."

"You two don't need babysitters, do you?" he asked, his voice surprisingly deep and scratchy. 

"No," Peter said. "I'm eighteen. She's twenty-one. Have you seen young adults before?"

The raccoon grunted. "Sure I have. Watch the attitude. Figured I'd ask, because Quill is way more grown up than you two and we still gotta keep an eye on him every second of the dang day," he said. "But if you two aren't big babies like he is, I need you to watch Groot."

"The... tree?" you asked. 

"Yes, the tree," he said.

"Okay," Peter said. "What are we supposed to do?"

"Make him less of a spoiled brat, if you can," he said. "Just watch him. We can't get him to listen, but the youngest one on the ship is Quill, so we're hoping you two can help calm him down. Groot's the worst. You're going to hate him." With that, he disappeared, coughing out a laugh. 

You looked at Peter, who shrugged. 

...

Groot was impossible. 

What made it even worse was that you didn't understand a word he was saying. All he did was listen to music too loud or play video games and ignore Peter Quill's instructions of putting the games away or turning down the music when they were trying to plan an attack. If he ignored Quill, he really wouldn't listen to you or Peter. 

"Hey, Groot? Uh... Quill said to turn that down," he said. 

Groot reached over and turned his music up. "I am Groot," he said. 

"No. Down," Peter tried again. "Come on, dude-"

Groot turned around. "I am Groot!" he screamed, and while you weren't sure what he meant, you guessed it was nothing but profanity, because Quill screamed from the other side of the ship-

"Groot! Language!"

"Um, Groot-"

Groot picked up a game control and hurled it at Peter. Peter ducked just in time. It crashed against the wall. 

"I. Am. Groot!" he shouted. 

"Holy crap," Peter gasped. He looked at you, eyes wide, then back at Groot. "You can't do things like that!"

Groot rolled his eyes and stood up. He stomped over to Peter and you stepped in front, catching the fist Groot was just about to throw at him. 

"That's enough," you said. You pushed his hand back. "You are the biggest spoiled brat ever. And you're a tree!" 

"Wow," Peter muttered behind you. Groot stomped over and picked up his game control. "You'd be a strict mom."

You scoffed at him and grabbed Peter's hand. He mumbled an ow and followed you right to where all of the "adults" were meeting. "Your tree is the worst. He tried to hit Peter. You need to, like, ground him or something."

"Well, you're the babysitters," Rocket said. "Ground him."

Peter frowned. "We're not the parents. You're the dad or whatever, raccoon-"

"I am not a raccoon!" 

"Yes you are!" Peter hissed. He looked at you. "I don't know how to deal with these people!"

You sighed and shook your head. "We can't control Groot. I think that's your job, anyway-"

Quill held up his arms. "Don't you think I've tried to control him? He is the definition of difficult!"

"He's going through a phase," Gamora said, shaking her head. "He'll grow out of it."

"But how many people are going to be victims to his teenage angst?" Quill asked. "And his language. Good grief, his language-"

"Ugh... enough." Your dad dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temple. "Okay, look. We don't have time to waste on trying to make a bad tree a good one. Give it up. He's a teenager, he'll grow up, whatever. We have a real crisis on our hands here."

Gamora nodded solemnly. "I agree."

"Good. Then let's get to work." Your dad looked at you and Peter. "And we need all hands on deck now."