𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍

occursus

I watch the sky fade to complete black as I'm sitting alone on the beach. Pietro and Nat left a while ago while the sky still hinted blue, off to find a place to camp out for the night and to give me space to have my meeting without disruption.

However, the shores now reflect a sliver of white and the only light shining down on me is the crescent moon above.

The air begins to chill as I sit, my eyes studying the water silently with the hopes that Gamora will show soon. Though she told me not to worry if she didn't show tonight, I'm beginning to frustrate. I've been waiting for what feels like an hour by now and there has been no sign of Gamora– or anyone else. After about five minutes of sitting in the dark, I stand. Gamora said to meet at dusk, and it's past that now, so I might as well find Pietro and Nat and our temporary sleeping area.

I begin to walk up the beach, quickly making it off of the cold sand. Though the moonlight is bright in comparison to the darkness I'm shrouded in, I still can't see where I'm going. I don't want to risk going in the wrong direction, but I also don't want to risk yelling to find out where they are. Should either Clint or the man from the boat be nearby and be an enemy, they'd know where we are immediately. I'm still weighing my limited options when a gust of air hits me, and I'm standing face to face with the local speedster. Before I can ask how he knew I was here, he scoops me up. I look to find a grin resting on his face, and it only grows as he speaks.

"We found a place to stay. And a couple friends, too."

I don't even try to question him before he begins to run, knowing at this point that it's a lost cause. The run is shorter than usual, making me only slightly nauseous, but it still manages to throw me off.

We stop in an area surrounded by trees, all tinted a bright orange. I look down to see a small fire burning and Nat placing her hands over it. The embers spark with the gust of wind that Pietro brings, and a familiar voice speaks up.

"Woah there, fastsilver, don't want to be putting out our fire! Only took what, an hour to get it going?"

I take in a breath as I listen to the voice that's speaking from through the fire and watch the thousands of memories that are coming to mind. I vaguely hear Pietro groan at the butchering of his superhero name as I race around the fire, hoping that I'll see the person I'm expecting.

My ears weren't deceiving me– Bucky's sitting behind the small wall of flames, and I engulf him in a hug once I see him.

"Ave," I hear him say softly as he returns the hug. "I'm glad to see ya, doll. Though it's not under great circumstances."

I pull out of the embrace to meet his eyes. They're watering, and I can't tell if it's from the smoke or from me. I laugh as I wipe my own tears away, which I know are definitely not from the fire. "I'm glad to see you too, Bucky."

"Well, we obviously know who's the favorite, huh?"

I turn to find Sam standing and looking at me with fake accusation, and Steve laughing to his left. I run over and give the other two a hug as well. Though I'm not nearly as close with them as I am with Bucky, I'm still fairly close with Steve and have been pretty good friends with Sam for a few years now. I haven't seen him in a few months, and though it's in a strange place, I'm glad to see him again. He gives me a pat on the back before sitting back down, his face grimacing a bit when he bends his knee.

"Hey, what happened?" I squat down, placing my hands on Sam's knee's to try to find the problem.

"Oh, I'll tell you what happened. Little punk Barton thinks he's so cool shootin' his teammates, like I haven't saved that puny little arrow-shooting royalty from death multiple times before." Sam pauses to roll up the pant leg on his right leg to show a large, red wound, definitely the result of an arrow. Sam continues to talk as I begin to heal his knee, the wound quickly stitching up under my fingertips. "Can't wait to give him a piece of my mind now that he's on the other side. Y'know, everyone used to tell me, "Oh, he'll grow on you," and "He's really a good guy once you get to know him," but then he pulls crap like this! Not to be that guy, but I can't wait to shove it in everyone's face and say told you so. Knew from day one that guy was trouble. I knew it! Little jerk."

"Sam, you do know you two are like, the same age. He's not little," I say, holding back the urge to laugh.

"Well, he acts like a petty twelve year old, so he's little. Out here, shooting his teammates. Wish we had phones in here. I'd totally have Bucky record me finally beating him up."

"Sam, come on man," Steve says, but he can't contain his laughter.

"Sam, I know you've never really liked Clint, but take it easy, alright? Something happened and he's changed. We're gonna fix him," Nat says quietly from her spot next to the fire.

I had almost forgotten that she was here, along with Pietro. Once the thought enters my mind, I turn my head around to try to see him, and I find him sitting next to Nat. I let out a small breath of relief, one I didn't realize I was holding.

I turn my attention back to Sam's knee, and watch as the wound completely mends back together. "All set, Sammy." I stand and turn to Bucky and Steve. "Either of you have wounds that I need to heal while I'm at it?"

"Surprisingly, no. Sam was the only one to get hit today." Steve's tone sounds even more surprised than how I feel as he speaks.

"Even more reason for me to hate Barton. Only aimed for me."

"Nah, he aimed for us too, you just aren't as good as dodging things as we are," Bucky teases, and I take the seat across from Nat. I relax as they continue to banter, falling into the domestic rhythm that I had already felt I lost in the few hours we've been here.

I look to my left to Pietro and offer him a smile. He's been quiet since we've gotten back, but when he returns the smile back I realize he's probably been quiet so that I could catch up with them and not because something was wrong. I scold myself on being so paranoid about every little thing that happens here, but I can't help myself.

After a few more minutes of listening to the light conversations, I put my hands over the fire, the cold finally getting to me. When the talking dies down, I ask my question.

"So, how'd you guys start this fire up anyway?"

"Sam grabbed all the fire starters from the supplies building and threw them in his bag. Didn't realize how helpful they'd be, or I would've grabbed some too," Nat says from across the fire, the flames dying down enough for me to see her face now.

"Yeah, those suckers were what I got shot over," Sam says, annoyance hinting at his voice yet again.

"Everything loops back to you getting shot, doesn't it?" I ask, laughing.

"As long as he remembers what happened, everything will have to do with him getting shot today," Bucky responds, and Sam hits him on the arm. Bucky makes a sound of fake hurt, and the two resume their light bickering and mocking of each other. Steve laughs along for a few moments before I watch his eye catch something. He squints into the darkness behind Pietro before speaking up, causing Bucky and Sam to stop talking.

"Who's that?" Steve stands as he asks the question, walking around the fire toward Pietro and standing a few feet behind him.

"Hey!" He shouts, and I wince at the loud noise. Though we haven't been super quiet, Steve shouting is pretty much the equivalent to having a blinking light pointing directly to where we are. "Who's out there?"

When no one responds, Steve looks to Bucky. "Buck," he says, and Bucky immediately bends over.

"On it," he says, quickly pulling out a flashlight and a small, gray disk. Bucky throws the flashlight first, and when he throws the disk it expands and turns into a shield, much like the one he uses outside of the arena. Steve waits a few seconds, then turns on the flashlight, sweeping the area.

"Who's there?" He asks again, his voice still painfully loud.

Finally, a figure comes out of the darkness, hands in the air and his head down in hesitance.

"Hey, hey, hey, please don't hurt me, I'm not lookin' for trouble," the man gets out quickly. I don't recognize him, but Pietro turns to me quickly.

Man on the boat, he mouths, and my eyes widen. I stand up quickly.

"Who are you?" I ask, my eyes squinting in uncertainty.

"You might not know me," he says, slowly moving closer to the fire. "Any of you from space?"

When we all shake our heads, he nods his. "Yeah, that's what I figured. I'm kinda a big name up there. Name's Peter Quill, but I'm pretty well known by the name Star-Lord."