"I'm just saying that SHIELD shouldn't need to do this; aren't we trying to prevent most domestic wars?" Tony spat.

"Yes, but let's face it," he glanced to a sleeping Gamora in an uncomfortable-looking chair, "SHIELD could care less about morality at this point. That's got to be why Fury is the head-he's a little ruthless."

"I can tell, but 'he doesn't have to be the harbinger of war. This isn't a good idea and that's coming from me." Tony countered, nodding towards the foreign crew. He opened the matte black folder that he was holding, glancing over at various lists and inputs on several thin pieces of documented paper. Frowning, he held one up in Bruce's face, exclaiming quietly, "Seriously?"

"Those hurt."

"My point exactly! How can SHIELD think this is necessary?" Tony exclaimed with thickly raised eyebrows. Bruce was about to answer when a rustle near him halted his words.

Gamora's feet shifted beneath her and she stood up slowly. But her momentary grace was not lengthy; upon her pinpointed eye contact with the cautious pair, she strode towards them, fists curled, hair slightly frizzy. Throwing her hands up, she pinned Tony on the outside wall, arms at his throat as she seethed into his face, "You have no right to-"

"What-? It's not me, you crazy-"

"-even think about laying your filthy hands on us!" She finished, ignoring Tony protests. Bruce was amused for a moment, until his eyes fell upon her knife that was latched to her right thigh. Her hand was precariously near it and before she could grab it and slice Tony's head off, Bruce spoke up.

"It's SHIELD's science division; it's their average and dehumanizing intrusiveness you're experiencing here; it's nothing personal." He frantically explained. Except apparently e need your guts and bone bits to identify you're not a threat, Bruce thought with disdain.

Gamora growled, and pushed herself away with a final shove, stepping only a few inches away to let Anthony explain.

"SHIELD has protocol and this is required for you to even stay here. Otherwise, they will force you into captivity, one of their many skillsets."

"Why? We are not hostiles!" Gamora asked, her statement ironically contradicting her recent assault.

"We know, but you're still technically considered aliens. SHIELD is a sucker for possible data on everything to prevent future-"

"None of us care! We crash landed here, didn't threaten to kill anyone, -"

"Well actually-"

"Didn't hurt any living organism and have been under your jurisdiction for several days, and now you want to pull our intestines apart?" Her tones dripped with venom and she had her hand wrapped around her knife, but not did not unsheathe. She felt like hitting something.

"So you're saying that you are going to succumb to SHIELD? You'll never escape if you do, unless you eventually comply." Bruce warned, his forehead creasing in concern. He was truly discomfited and he loathed SHIELD for forcing this dilemma upon these similar beings. He could only imagine what it felt like to not be human.

"And why is that? Does this SHIELD mistake us for weaker subjects?" Gamora bitterly countered, voice raising, fingers curling precariously around her weapon yet again.

"Well, you do have a cripple on board." Tony was not helping.

"What is all this shouting going on?" Peter's eyes blinked open as he shook his head slightly, sitting up. Gamora shot him a concerned look, but whipped back around to bear her trained gaze into the pair in front of her.

"Apparently we have become test subjects." Though only over my dead body!

"What?" This time, it was a voice in the back of the room, which had soaked up the identical and full tension from just a few days ago. Except this time, it was not a desperation tactic, but a forced, uncomfortable, and vicious pressure that indicated very clear whom the enemy was.

Rocket stomped his way over to Peter's bed, climbing it quickly to stand on the foot end of it, almost face-to-face with the Avengers, a dislike in his whiskers and beady eyes.

"What the hell do you want with our guts? I'm not even fully a living thing. Groot over there ain't nothin' but dry wood, and Drax's skin is literally worth dirt." He almost sounded negotiable if it weren't for the rough grit in his tone.

"SHIELD always finds a way to extract what they need. They don't exactly have a clean record regarding that area of expertise." Bruce remarked dully. Tony clutched the black folder tightly, as if afraid that it would slip into thin air and evaporate. Gamora eyed it and demanded for him to hand it over.

"Uhh...not a wicked idea. I'm afraid it's not going to help this conversation proceed in a smooth manner, if you know what I mean."

"Neither is sitting here and bitchin' about this. We say no, and that's our answer. If anyone lays a hand on us, I'll pump them full of lead." Please, let someone be stupid so I can...

"I'm afraid that is not your call." The Director stepped into the doorway past Bruce and Anthony, who shared an expression of relief and fear upon his arrival, until they became acutely aware of his twitch of annoyance.

"I don't care who's call it is. SHIELD has no business probing us, let alone violating our personal space. We're here until we can leave this goddamn tower undisturbed and unharmed, and that's final." Gamora spat. Peter raised his eyebrows, surprised at her tone of authority that rarely needed to be exhibited, although there were several times she simply decided to kill someone than negotiate. He suddenly felt guilty for not being there when she must have had to defend all of them and herself numerous times. He felt powerless, and it was beginning to scare him. As if to test his current ability to do so, he flexed his arms slightly, testing to see if he was still in immense pain. Unfortunately, he was as he bit back a small hiss.

"You forget your place here at the Stark tower. You are confined within our jurisdiction until such time he," He pointed accusingly at Peter, who appeared to be somewhat confused yet completely cognizant, "can get his ass outside and take all of you off of my planet. We hold the authority to therefore execute the necessary tests to prevent further possible threats from this point on." Fury declared with clear stubbornness in his voice.

"Um with all due respect Mr. Angry, I-"

"Fury." The Director was not amused.

"I think this is just a huge misunderstanding. I was the one who crash landed so if anyone wants to probe anyone, it should be me. Rocket's right anyways, there isn't anything special about any of us." He apologetically glanced at Gamora, but she was staring at the Director, daring him to refuse.

"It still isn't your call."

"Then who's is it?"

"Mine."

"Will these tests hurt?"

"Peter!" Gamora whipped around to glare at him, and he suddenly wished he could fall back asleep.

"What? It's not like I can just get up and go outside and fix the ship, not unless I was like, carried or something like a ragdoll!"

Gamora was about to protest, but something suddenly hit the entire group of Guardians in one swift, fleeting, and personal moment.

"I am Groot." The massive tree and Drax were both standing behind Peter now. Groot, his large eyes kind and bright with an idea, looked down at Peter with an anxious and loose expression.

"Hell no. No. NO." Peter spat, but it looked as if the decision was already decided.

"I think it could work, for the record." Tony stated awkwardly, hitting Bruce on the shoulder for reassurance. Bruce did not return the favor.

"If this is your plan to escape the grasps of our science division, I highly doubt its' successfelness based on your chances of this actually working." This is such a joke, Fury thought with bitterness to no end.

"I dunno about you idiots but I ain't gettin' probed again so you can keep your ruddy paws off me." Rocket spat, climbing on Groot's shoulders, who was still gazing at Peter, currently holding a staring contest.

"I do not understand." Drax blinked, looking from Groot to Peter, to Gamora and back to Peter. Gamora's facial expression softened, and she let go of her weapon, ignoring Peter's protests as she declared, "We will not be part of your experiment because Peter will fix and the ship. All of us will. Today."

"And it will be fully functional and you will leave as well?"

Gamora looked to Peter, and with a defeated sigh, he frowned and replied with a dry submission.

"It may be the last thing I do." With discouragement, he thought after his statement, that would really suck.

"Goddamit!" Peter exclaimed, growling in pure discomfort and frustration.

As soon as Bruce, Anthony, and Fury left, the nurse came in to administer a powerful pain drug that would last for several hours. By then it was still mid-morning, and Peter wished more than ever to go back to sleep. In fact, he wished he had stayed in his coma.

Gamora explained to Peter and Drax that Groot would carry Peter outside and act as his legs and arms to repair the ship. Gamora could deactivate the coating system, but as soon as that was done, they would be forced to fix the ship. Without immediate power at this point, the Milano would be unable to re-administer the defense systems, thus their ship must remain vulnerable. Rocket and the others would help, taking guidance from Peter's words, but it was a risk.

"This sounds really dumb. Literally, this sounds worse than my plan to defeat Ronan and I will look like an idiot." Peter retorted with half of a chuckle as Gamora helped him from the bed. Peter winced.

"Well, much like that time, this is the only solution. Groot is tall and can move you around and his intellect in electronics is limited."

"So are my physical abilities. How is this going to work, again?" Peter asked with annoyance at his own state, though he continued to grit his teeth rather than speak about his pain.

"You're the Star-Lord; I'm sure you can figure it out." Gamora winked at him, kissing him lightly on the cheek before leaving to help Rocket prepare the list of items he would need from SHIELD.

None of them had any idea how long it would take, and as they helped Peter Quill from the room, SHIELD was migrating to the massive park dome, gathering all tools that anyone could possible need; from their own high-tech motors and gadgets to a simple wrench, everything was nested in perectly-molded cases that held the official SHIELD symbol and traditional triple-keyed locks. However, although Peter's drugs were powerful, he was aching from a gaping hole in his hip and the occasional tidal headache. The nurse refused to give him any more, for he already had absorbed two powerful chemicals and with this anatomy, she had told him that she was unsure of the "unknown lasting effects".

Slowly and with the aid of many objects around the room, Peter was able to move around, albeit slowly, managing a way to find a way to wobble towards the bathroom and pull on his blood-stained, grey undershirt. He kept his white sweatpants on, but was having trouble putting his jacket on. His back was also in pain, for some unresolved reason though the doctor waged that it resulted from the impact of the fall, and a quick x-ray was taken earlier. Nothing remained broken, but it still hurt like hell to him.

Continuing to hiss, he managed to pull his one jacket on, which was also bloodstained. Its stickiness made him cringe, and frowning with a lost cause in his effort, he let it fall to the tiled floor, disappointed.

Before leaving the bathroom, the jacket on his shoulder, he glanced at himself in the mirror. With a sedated sigh, he wondered how weak he must have appeared to these "Avengers", and how Gamora must have had to deal with their bitter attitudes.

Peter's head still bore a white bandage that covered his forehead that matched his bleached sweatpants that were a size too big. Coupled with his tempest-tossed, stained shirt and spotted bruises that ran along his lower neck, he strongly resembled a zombie. His face looked normal, but he could feel so many things in pain in his internal organs that he wasn't sure why he could still stand, albeit on one foot with most of the support on something else. The only thing that was completely free of pain were his lower arms.

Frowning, he opened the door and was greeted with a steadfast Gamora, who took his jacket and tossed it onto the side of his bed. Suddenly, Peter felt overwhelmingly solemn when he realized something dear to him was probably broken.

"What?" Gamora asked, placing her lithe hands on his cheeks, eyes gentlest since they had landed on Earth.

"My mixtapes. They're..." He felt like crying. Trying hard to refrain from allowing his emotions to show, he started to wave Gamora away, but all he could manage was a weird head twitch, as his arms were occupied to holding himself up. Peter felt as if the world was weighing on his shoulders, truthfully. Here we was, broken and somehow in pain, barely able to stand let alone lead his crew, and carrying the heaviest heart for his beloved possessions, which was doing worse than he was. If he didn't, they would be probed, and this time, he would not be able to get out of it, unless he could rent a new body within the next hour.

"Peter. It's okay. We will find them and be off of this disgusting planet by tomorrow."

"If I can get my shit together. I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"You must stop blaming yourself, Peter. You are not alone and it was not of our doing that we are here. You are still our pilot and we will not let these bafoons take us for inferior beings. Peter." She reassured, and kissed him lightly on the forehead, gently tugging his mess of hair simultaneously.

"Even if you're a complete failure out there," Rocket started, who was checking his firearm by the entrance to the room with a newfound ferocity, "I can just do it by myself while you hang with Groot. Shouldn't be too difficult since we've done it at least once."

"I am sure you will not fail, Peter. You know this ship better than us all. We will do everything we can to help." Drax assured.

Peter didn't like bring treated like a child, but he bit back his oncoming retorts. They are my friends that are only trying to help me, he thought with reaffirm. With Gamora's help, he stood near the side of his bed once more, rubbing his lower back, grimacing.

"We aren't completely knowledge-less anyways, so we'll be working together and everything at once." Drax readmitted. He walked to where Rocket was, and stood by the door, waiting for Groot and Peter.

"Well, hoist me up, Groot." Groot smiled and walked closer to Peter. Peter tensed, ready for any pain that would protest. Bending down to lift Peter, he carefully wrapped both of his arms' roots around Peter's torso and gently lifted him up. For a moment, he simply hung there suspended in mid-air, arms and legs dangling. Groot continued smiling and managed to turn Peter around so he was facing away from him.

"Milano, here we come."

"I just want to let you know that if you drop me, I might just pass out." Peter commented half-jokingly, half-seriously as they made it outside. It had been an awkward ride down the elevator as Groot and Peter rode first, then the rest of the Guardians. Fury had been waiting outside with Maria, and had briefed them on their priorities, then left them with two scientists; one spoke with distinct a British accent, the other a Scottish accent. The British-accented scientist was a girl with mid-length auburn hair, the Scottish-carrying a boy with curly, light golden hair who seemed quite nervous.

When they all finally made it outside, they had to be escorted into a large van to be transported to the ship without anyone noticing them. Groot had set Peter down and then resumed his role of his legs when they got out of the van and streamed into the park. Currently, they were staring at all of the tools laid out in front of them like a red carpet. Rocket was already snatching a few and running towards the ship, ignoring the stares and the few bustling feet of SHIELD's science and technology employees.

"I am Groot!" He grinned, and shook Peter slightly.

"You're enjoying my pain. So glad I have true friends." He sarcastically spat.

"Ah quit whinin' you lardball. Make this thing disappear so we can fix her now, will ya'?" Rocket requested in his habitual, senseless grit. Drax walked to where Gamora stood holding Peter's deactivation device. Pressing it with slight apprehension, a small puff of grey smoke came out. It had not even touched the outside of the ship's mechanism, the rock-hard substance began to disintegrate like an acid. Like rapidly-deteriorating limestone, it disintegrated rapidly, large pieces dropping to the grass with soft thuds, eventually turning into smoke and evaporating. From where Gamora had released the chemical, the reaction was quickly sprouting until within seconds, the entire ship was exposed as normal, as if they had just crashed.

"Well, there she is." Peter sighed, gazing at it.

"What's first?"

"Well, I want to examine the inside. If we can manage to at least turn her on, then maybe this won't be as bad as I thought."

Rocket scrambled into the cockpit and within seconds, the ship made a whirring sound, gargled, and then was motion and soundless.

"Well it was functional until this flashy red light thingy blinked and then disappeared."

"Was it in a filled square or in an empty, small circle?"

"Square and it won't start again."

"Then the engine is damaged but the power circuits and stuff should be fine when we re-attach everything. Did the jets activate before we impacted?"

"Yes, so we really only fell a few hundred feet. Most of the damage occurred when we traveled through the portal." Gamora answered, moving closer to Rocket, who was already working at the exposed wires and mending the electronic controls.

"I shall see if anything has fallen out of place inside." Drax made his way into the ship, clearly not the most tech-savvy member.

Groot lowered Peter closer to Rocket so he could peer into the ship further down to here Drax was headed. Gamora stayed where she was at.

"Gamora, I need you to help Drax and repair the mainframe with Rocket; that's the stuff that will take more time. I'll grab a screwdriver and see what I can do on the outside thrusters." Peter directed her, trying to sound strong. In truth, he was really uncomfortable in his friends' presence at this point with his awkward position, literally. Although it was gentle, the feel of wood rubbing against his skin was not the most cushioned sensation that he had felt, and already Peter wanted to return to the safe emptiness of the galaxies.

The SHIELD agents stood by with safe, curious and occasional glances, allowing the Guardians to work. Fury and Maria were not present but the only working agents who were maintaining it remained in contact with the Director. The rest of the Avengers traveled away on some sort of issue that the Director assigned all of them on in New Mexico. As soon as the issue with the science division was figured out with the plan to carry Peter, Fury had silently instructed Anthony and Bruce to "suit up". The black folder was abandoned as soon as he gave them his one-eyed glare.

The two lead science agents were too shy to truly interfere, but were very curious with the ship and how the chemicals had reacted. They especially were staring at Rocket and Groot, their eyes lighting up with curiosity. Groot smiled at them before returning to Peter's commands.

"Up higher Groot, please." Peter grunted, holding two small objects that looked like screwdrivers. He had fixed the fuel line and it was no longer leaking, but perhaps he should have done that last because being the smart pilot that he was, he now had grease and oil and the sorts splattered in random patterns all over himself. His shirt, a gruesome portrayal of a mixture of fuel, sweat, and blood almost looked like a terrible Halloween costume.

"A little higher." He stretched his arms upwards, gesturing to where he needed to be. Luckily, Groot's arms did not easily get tired. He extended them a few more feet upwards to where the defense mechanism oozed out of the ship. Holding his tools tightly, for he already dropped them once, he reached up and pushed the mechanism back in its place, locking the device so it did not re-activate itself. Examining the top parts of the ship, he sighed, gritted his teeth, and went to work putting the panels back in place and readjusting the wires.

While he was currently higher, he took a few moments to look at his surroundings. He had, out of embarrassment, ignored it as soon as he left the tower, and had focused solely on repairing his ship. The others did not seem too bothered by the agents scurrying around, and the few that seemed to only watch them out of interest or security, he wasn't sure, never took their eyes off of them. He began to sweat clearly aware of how ridiculous he must have looked. A walking tree was holding his crippled body as he worked in an awkward position, reaching as far as he could to the panels on the right wing. Peter noticed the dome was pretty large, and rather impressive technology compared to when he had lived on Earth as a child.

Just not good enough to save my mother, he thought bitterly. Slamming the panel shut, he instructed Groot to move to the opposite wing. While they did, he saw Drax and Rocket standing over the cockpit. A large crack ran through the tip of the Milano's nose to the glass, where it looked as if it might shatter of someone sneezed near it.

". . .not going to work." Drax said dryly, stepping closer.

"I didn't say it would, it was just an idea. I don't know how to replace glass, you big idiot. I can't manipulate the laws of psychics."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Rocket, what is the problem?" Peter asked, as Groot lowered him closer to the ground.

"This glass is going to break and unless we want to suffocate in space or get blasted by 500 mile-an-hour winds that will tear our faces off, it needs to be replaced, but this moron," he pointed back to Drax, who only glared in response, "thinks that we could just bend glass and shove it in between the frames."

"That's not gonna cut it."

"As I already concluded like the genius I am."

"Then what do you suggest?" Peter inquired, his patience wearing thing. He was the leader of this crew, but his hip still hurt more than he preferred, and he was starting to become fatigued at an abnormal level.

They had been working for at least a few hours now, and although they were determined, the ship was still lacking basic functionality. In fact, despite their efforts that resulted in completely repaired thrusters, body cracks and structural damage besides the glass, internal wiring re-routing, their task still proved immense; Rocket still needed to fix the controls and mainframe as most of the buttons and screens were still unreadable.

"I don't frickin' know!"

"Rocket, calm down. Maybe we can find a different substance to replace the glass."

"Yeah ya' can, but it would be too thin and light to withstand the g-force of the aircraft's movement, sweetie." He spat. As if ignoring the problem, he jumped back into the ship to continue repairing the internal damage, and Gamora only rolled her eyes, glancing at staring agents who quickly tore their gaze from her in fear.

"Despite his inappropriate behavior, he is correct. Where are we going to find a suitable replacement for this, Peter?" Gamora asked. Drax shrugged, but then added, "Perhaps this planet has technology suitable for such needs?"

"Even if it did, there's no way to test it. We could take off then die instantly." Internally, Peter slapped himself for being so rude.

"What are our other options?"

"I-"

"Excuse me?" A young girl, one of the lead SHIELD scientists shyly had approached the small group, her gloved hands folded in front of her. She spoke quietly, but her eyes were very bright and her face held a particular excitement. It was the British-accented scientist with auburn hair.

"Who are you?" Drax asked bluntly, but without hostility.

"I'm Jemma Simmons, sir. I one of the head scientists for this assignment and my astute and brilliant partner over there," she turned around quickly to gesture towards the short male, standing from a distance, a similarly shy smirk on his face, "is Leo Fitz. People call us Fitz-Simmons because we work so well together."

Silence. They stared at her and her cautiously embarrassed smile as she shrugged it off, continuing:

"I overheard you talking about this dilemma of yours and that front window," she nodded forwards towards the ship, and stole a glance at Groot, who had moved to peer into the ship, ignoring Jemma entirely. "And I may have an option for you to use to replace it."

"What is it?" Gamora asked, eyes dripping with suspicion and hostile curiosity.

"Well it's not bendable glass exactly, but in layman's terms, it's like an extremely dense material that will bend enough for you to insert it as a window. It was designed as a type of transparent shield and doesn't need to run on any power of any sort."

"Can it withstand space travel and high impact?" Peter asked form his awkward position, which was floating a few inches from the ground, holding his tools loosely.

"Actually, it can. It's designed as a bulletproof material and close-impact encounters that can be from weaponized or natural forces. I suppose space is not something it has been fully tested on, but if pressure and G-force is the issue, I'm sure it can be modified." She lit up as her partner, Leo walked to her side, carrying a handheld device, his hands shaking, but his face calm.

"You can see for yourselves if it's up to your standards. It was designed a few years ago, so it shouldn't be something that contains many kinks, so to speak." His Scottish accent reached Rocket's ears, and he jumped from the ship, whiskers twitching with acute awareness.

"Dude, what's wrong with your voice?" Laughing, he padded his short way to Leo.

"N-nothing. Are you a raccoon?" He asked with nothing more than curiosity, already grabbing something from his pocket and holding it up at eye-level.

"No butter-brains, are you a lizard? Why do your people call me that?" He turned upwards to Peter, who only shrugged in response and turned back to Leo and Jemma.

"But...oh my god!" Leo exclaimed.

"Wha-Leo! That's so rude. You're supposed to ask before thermally and internally scanning a living organism." She slapped his arm and shoulder with her hand, clearly embarrassed.

None of the Guardians quite understood the pair, but it was clear that they were not threats nor anything that close to SHIELD's notorious science division.

"Did you say we could see the replacement for our window?" Drax asked, stepping forward. Jemma's smile almost disappeared in fear. Leo ignored him and was still gawking at this palm-sized SHIELD scanner.

"Um-uh yes. Yes. But it's at a scientific facility. I can have it shipped here in about three days because it's not in New York and under the utmost security protection. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until then." She frowned apologetically, and then whispered something to Leo, who only responded by turning back to where he originally stood next to a table of tools and gadgets, continuing to mess with his scanner, which was now attached to a monitor as he moved back to the table.

"What about our deal with that guy? If we can fix it but it has to wait until next week, then won't we still be dissected against our will?" Rocket spat with a tone that suggested it wasn't going to actually happen.

"I'm sure the Director will reconsider his decision. After all, it's not like you're going to melt in a week." Jemma stated lightly, trying to soften the mood.

No one understood her comment as Drax asked, "How is that possible?"

"Thanks you, Jemma. We appreciate this. I think we'll have to try it because we don't have any other options, but we're going to keep working on this." Peter remarked gratefully from his hovering stance, black and dark brown streaks outlining his face.

"You're very welcome. It's not every day I get to help aliens, or galactic travelers." She smiled an impossibly-wide smile, and turned to join her jittery partner, Leo.

Concerned, Gamora tenderly stroked Peter's cheek, moving closer to him as Groot lowered his body to normal height, still supporting most of his weight.

"You need to rest, Peter. You look like something that has been thrown around in a ship and then buried in a dead planet's remains."

"Thanks for that. I can already picture myself with badass powers. Ones that include resisting ship-portals."

"Very funny. We will deal with the rest of this because Groot is too large to help you inside of the ship, and the outside is done, thanks to you. Go back into the tower, sleep, and wipe this junk off of your face."

"But what about the deal? Mr. Angry is going to return any minute and expect to see the ship completely finished." Peter objected.

"We'll get most of it done, but until we try out Jemma's technology, it's not out fault that we have to stay here." Gamora reasoned, running her hands through Peter's mousy and greasy hair.

"Fine. But I swear to God if he even touches my ship or you I will inject myself with every drug there is in that room and blow this tower up."

"Sounds good to me." Gamora kissed Peter once more, holding his face while standing on her tip-toes to reach him. Afterwards, nodding to Groot, she returned to the ship and explained to her crew where Peter was going.

"Well for all of our sakes, I'm taking the credit on this one." Rocket retorted almost sarcastically, pulling wires out from under the seats.

"I am Groot!"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you can't go down there and help them. I'll be fine."

Clean and rather exhausted, Peter was still determined to force Groot to help the remaining Guardians repair the Milano, rather than allowing the massive plant-humanoid to stay and "protect" him. Feeling useless, he remained ashamed of his current state, but felt almost too tired to care. However, he did appreciate Gamora's understanding, and longed more than ever to have seen her in action when they crash-landed. Knowing he couldn't have done anything made Peter feel helpless, but up to this point, he knew all he should be trying to focus on is leading and helping his team in any way possible.

"Go!" He exclaimed, but with encouraging eyes and a confirming nod to his friend. The massive tree shrugged his shoulders, but obeyed, slowly walking out of the white room to go back to the park, the black SUV waiting for him.

Upon his departure, Peter sighed, as if a weight had been lifted. Uncomfortable in his demoralizing position in front of the entire workforce of SHIELD and worse, his crew, Peter stood embarrassed, and mentally done for the day. Outside, the sun hung lazily over the edge of the horizon, setting the skyscrapers ablaze and flushing the city with orange, brilliant, think rays that signaled the end of the day was drawing in.

Sighing, Peter closed his eyes for just a brief moment. When he opened them, his heart jumped and he almost shouted from sudden adrenaline coursing through his sore body.

"I thought all of you were away?!"

"Fury didn't send all of us to New Mexico. Tony and the others can handle whatever's happening. Besides, I was curious."

"About what?"

"You." Natasha folded her arms across her chest, keeping he intense gaze on Peter's non-intensive state.

"Well, that's...awesome?"