This was written for a prompt on the GotG kink meme: . ?thread=85518#t85518 And it's my first attempt at writing a story for a kink meme so please, pretty please, be easy on me.

Fair warning, I am not in any way shape or form a doctor. Pretty much all I had to go on for pregnancy/birth scenes is from Wikipedia or WebMD. So if you're expecting medical accuracy…don't.

Other warnings: blood and lots of it (Peter miscarries like, a dozen times), shit-tons of angst, curse words, possible sex, definite Peter whump, later on will definitely feature Peter-vs.-Rocket smackdown because reasons.

BUT on the upside I promise a happy ending! :)

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Marvel. I don't own Peter Quill or Drax (but if I did, they'd live happily ever after together) or any of the other Guardians of the Galaxy.

[Drax]

There is blood in the bathroom.

When you are part of a team of heroes, you expect injuries. But this is no flesh wound. And it certainly isn't the result of a battle. We have not had a proper battle since we defeated Ronan. Since then all we've done is stop petty crime and low-risk villains. Catching them in the early stages is, I admit, much easier than stopping them once they get hold of an Infinity Stone…but I'm digressing.

The point is, there is far too much blood in the bathroom, and it is coming from a person who has done nothing today except perform regular maintenance on a recently-fixed spaceship. Well, all right, he also did a bit of food shopping, but really, that is hardly dangerous. There is no reason there should be this much blood.

But there is blood, lots of blood, and if I do nothing, I will lose him. That is apparent. But what do I do? I can't even see where the blood is coming from. All I can see is my lover, sitting helpless in a pool of his own blood. And what am I supposed to do without knowing the specifics of the situation? So the first thing I do is enter the room, kneel beside him, and ask the obvious: "How did you injure yourself?"

He reluctantly turns his face up to mine. He's clearly exhausted, but aside from the bleeding I can see no other symptoms. "It's nothing," he says weakly. "Please, just leave…I'll clean it up, just give me a minute."

Leave? Not likely. Would you leave if you saw your significant other in such a position? "No," I say firmly. "I will not leave until you tell me what has happened to you."

He shakes his head. Leans back against the wall. "I'm fine," he rasps. This is obviously a lie. "Please, Drax, just go…I just need—hey!" he yelps as I take matters into my own hands and pick him up off the floor. "What are you doing?"

"If you won't tell me how you've injured yourself, I will find out on my own." I reach over and turn on the shower. The first thing I'll do is clean off the blood; perhaps then the injuries will reveal themselves. "You could spare me the trouble. Just tell me who has hurt you, and I will go and kill them after I have seen to it that you receive medical care."

He whimpers softly, letting his head fall onto my shoulder. "Put me down," he begs. "Please don't kill anyone. No one's hurt me, I swear."

"Oh, I suppose you'll tell me, then, that you spontaneously began to bleed for no reason? I may not be an intellectual, Peter, but I know that is impossible."

He shakes his head. I start to undress him, but he lets out a tiny shriek of pain that makes me stop. Have I made it worse? "Put me down and I'll tell you," he says. "I swear, just…just put me down, please."

Slowly, cautiously, I set him on the edge of the bathtub, hoping to spare him further pain. He looks up at me through tear-filled eyes. This only increases my concern; I have never seen him cry before. I sit down beside him and watch the tears slide down his face. There is still blood coming from somewhere, but I can't tell where. "Tell me," I order quietly. "Tell me what happened to you. Now."

He inhales slowly. Looks down at the floor, instead of at me. I consider forcing him to look into my eyes, but before I can act on this thought, he speaks: "I—I miscarried, okay? It wasn't your fault. I just. It happened. I should've told you I was—pregnant—but I didn't because—I guess I was afraid this was gonna happen. And I didn't want to worry you so I didn't tell you. Okay? No one hurt me. So just—whatever you do, don't kill anybody."

"Miscarried?" I repeat, disbelieving. How could that be possible? "I thought it was only Terran women who could bear children." This must be a lie, he is certainly trying to protect someone. He knows if he tells the truth, I will tear apart whoever has hurt him.

"Yeah, well, I'm not 100% Terran, am I?" He finally looks at me, desperate, clearly in pain. I see his hand clench his stomach and, with a slight jolt, I realize where the blood is coming from. "Whatever race my father was, their men must be capable of getting knocked up, because here I am."

"Has this happened before? Have you carried a child?" I demand. Because this opens up a whole new realm of possibilities. I had thought, until now, that it was impossible to build a family with him. But now…

He shakes his head. "No, I've never had a kid…" He looks around the room, avoiding my stare. I know he isn't telling me something. He laughs, but there is no joy in the sound. "I…I only slept with women until you, remember?"

Ah. That makes sense. But this is still odd, because how could he know he was pregnant if he hasn't been before? "How did you know?" I ask.

"I might have—looked it up," he chokes out, looking down at his stomach. He's still holding on, still pressing his hand against his abdomen, as though he can somehow save the child that is no longer inside him. "I knew what the symptoms of pregnancy were—every Terran knows, trust me—but I—I never thought I could—so I bought a test and—I thought I couldn't—but it came out positive. So I looked up male pregnancy. Apparently Terrans are one of the few species in the galaxy that have that pesky women-only requirement." He laughs humorlessly again, and my heart wrenches. I wish he had told me sooner. As if reading my thoughts he quickly adds, "I wanted to tell you. I just…I was afraid."

"That is all the more reason you should have told me. I would have comforted you. And I would have celebrated with you." I cup my hand around his face and make him look at me. He is still in tears. I dislike this; I want to make him smile. "Is this not good news? We can have a family together!" I realize that the formerly promiscuous Peter may not like this prospect and quickly add, "If that would please you as much as it would me."

He manages a weak smile. "Yeah…I'd like that."

He looks so small, so vulnerable. I wish I could end his pain. But all I can do is pull him into my arms, very carefully—I don't want to cause him further harm. "If you consent, I will help you clean yourself. And perhaps it would be for the best if you were to spend the remainder of the day resting."

He leans against me, letting his head fall against my chest. "Thank you," he whispers. "I'll rest if you'll stay with me."

I tilt his face up to mine and kiss him. "Of course I will."