Primeval/Guardians of the Galaxy: Stranger Things (1/1)

[faye_dartmouth]

Title: Stranger Things

Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval. Or Guardians of the Galaxy. Or anything.

A/N: Fills attacked by creatures for my hc_bingo table (see my card here). With thanks to sockie1000 for the beta work and kristen_mara for the idea. The timelines wouldn’t quite match up, so you either have to assume that 2.07 happens much later or that the movie happens much sooner in order for these two universes to link up this way.

Spoilers: For Primeval 2.07 (but it goes AU); for the movie Guardians of the Galaxy.

Summary: Stephen’s fought future predators before, and he’s faced sabretooths and raptors and all the like. But is that really a raccoon?



-o-

This is it, Stephen thinks to himself. After everything, it’s coming down to this. Stephen’s made a lot of bad decisions in his life -- a lot, he remind himself, more than he can count -- but this one really may be the worst.

The predators are closing in. Helen’s going to get away. And Stephen’s about to be torn limb from limb.

But Nick’s on the other side of the glass.

That’s what matters.

It’s always come back to Nick. Every mistake he’s made has been at Cutter’s expense, but not this one.

Stephen takes a breath, and tries to steel himself. A raptor flits across the ground in front of him. A sabretooth stalks him from behind. A pair of future predators are angling his way.

This is it, he tells himself again, his resolve starting to crumble. It’s going to end in a spectacular, bloody mess. It’s impossible to tell which one will end it. If the raptor will rip his arm off or if the sabretooth will rip out his throat. Maybe the predators will cut open his front and gut him, eating his intestines while he’s still alive.

It could even be that walrus, impaling him on a pair of tusks while the others feast to his very uninspiring end.

Or maybe it will be the…

Raccoon?

Stephen startles, which is saying something, given that he’s surrounded by bloodthirsty predators who have been called to eat. Because he’s fought future predators before, and he’s faced sabretooths and raptors and all the like. But is that really a raccoon?

It scampers away from him, scaling up the side of one of the deactivated cages. From the top, it eyes him knowingly, and then, inexplicably, it winks.

Stephen’s breathing catches.

He’s hallucinating.

Damn it, he’s probably already dead and this is his final thought, the last spasm of his dying body as it succumbs to an inevitable and horrible end. He thinks there must be some solace that it doesn’t hurt, even if it is confusing.

The raccoon flashes him a thumbs up, and Stephen feels light headed.

Which is when the first predator attacks.

It’s the raptor, but a future predator swoops in, flooring the prehistoric beast before it has a chance to get to Stephen. Dumbfounded, Stephen watches as it flays the raptor open, and he’s still transfixed that he barely sees the blur of movement while the second future predator pounces. His reaction time is badly delayed, and he doesn’t have time to defend himself as its claws rip into his shoulder, pulling him down to the ground hard.

He hits his backside painfully, and the future predator tears, neatly slicing open his arm. Hot blood starts to well up, and it soaks the back of his shirt while the predator bears its teeth and hisses, bobbing its head toward the crook of Stephen neck.

The killing blow never comes, though. In a flash of furry movement, the predator is wrested free, and Stephen lays on the floor for a moment, staring in a daze at the ceiling. He’s bleeding badly now, and the pain has numbed the entire side of his body, and he can feel the rapid beat of his heart thrumming in his ears.

Diorienteded, he turns his head. The future predator is keening, flailing and hissing with its long limbs akimbo before the raccoon brandishes a knife and plunges it straight into the creature’s chest. The keening pitches hoarsely, then abruptly cuts off before the future predator settles limply onto the ground.

And the raccoon looks straight at Stephen.

Stephen looks back.

It’s the sabretooth that comes next, nipping Stephen’s leg and trying to pull him away. He struggles as he’s flipped onto his stomach, his good hand reaching lamely to find some way to stop himself.

The raccoon lets out a yowl, though, and attacks the sabretooth with his fists first, pounding him square in the face until it lets Stephen’s foot go. The cat growls, but the raccoon growls back, planting his already blood knife into the sabretooth’s chest -- once, twice, three times, just for good measure.

Before Stephen can comprehend that, the raccoon turns to him again with an exasperated sigh. Walking on his hind legs, he scuttles closer to Stephen, tugging at his good side and starting to tow him across the floor. Stephen is as confused as he is pained, and it occurs to him with some horror that he’s going to be eaten by a raccoon. Raptors and future predators and sabretooths, and it’s a raccoon.

Just what the hell has Helen been doing here? What sort of sick experiments has Leek been managing?

He’s rolled unceremoniously on his back, and he has to blink a few times while his eyes try to focus. The raccoon is standing over him, blood staining his fur as he glowers down at Stephen. At the rate Stephen’s losing blood, he’s too out of it to do anything but stare.

The raccoon sighs again, shaking his head. He opens his mouth, and Stephen braces for an attack.

“Aw, geez,” the raccoon mutters. “I always knew Terrans were pathetic, but you the rest of this lot make Quill look good.”

Stephen blinks.

Now he’s sure he’s most certainly hallucinating. The blood loss, surely.

The raccoon wipes his knife on his fur and tsks his tongue. “This is a mess, I know,” he says. “But I’m going to clean this up for you, okay? Not that you deserve it necessarily for being a first class idiot, but lucky for you, I’m apparently a hero now.”

Stephen’s struggles to breathe. If it’s shock from blood loss or shock from a talking raccoon, he’s not sure. Time travel, predators from the future, Helen’s miraculous return from the dead.

Now this.

Stephen should have picked a different career. This is total insanity.

“So, uh, give me a few and lie tight, okay?” the raccoon asks. He pauses, looking at Stephen very seriously. “And really, don’t move.”

Stephen isn’t actually capable of protesting at this point, what with his dimming consciousness and mounting pain. He feels queasy now, and he can feel a pool of hot, tacky blood starting to collect beneath his body. Things are starting to fade now, and his vision starts to blur around the edges. He can hear the distant sounds of what seems like a massacre, but when he turns his head all he sees is a bouncing ball of fur running toward him.

The raccoon scampers closer, tucking himself over Stephen’s head. “Let’s hope I got the blast radius right,” he mutters.

Stephen strains, tasting fur as he breathes. He’s choking, his heartbeat growing sluggish. He wants to cry; he wants to apologize; he wants to know what the hell is going on, but it’s too late.

The raccoon shifts, looking over his shoulder. “I could have sworn I got the timing mechanism right--”

And then, just like that, everything explodes.

The sound is deafening, and the flash of light blinds him.

Stephen thinks of Nick.

He thinks of talking raccoons.

Then, he doesn’t think at all

-o-

It’s movement, though. Gentle now, and larger hands.

“What the hell, Rocket? We said contain it!”

“Well, this is contained.”

He’s settled on the ground, as someone pulls his shirt open and presses something against his shoulder. The pain ignites, and Stephen gasps, startling into an unpleasant consciousness.

“This is leveled. Shit. Shit.”

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of options.”

“You were supposed to wait for backup!”

“And then people would have died! Is that what you want? A bunch of dead Terrans?”

Stephen blinks, trying to focus his eyes. He’s not sure where he is, but a large figure comes into view. His features are broad and serious, and Stephen blinks a few more times until he realizes that the man is indeed a bluish gray color with vivid red marks all over his body.

Stephen’s still trying to process that when a lithe green figure walks across his field of vision.

“Rocket has a point,” the green woman says. “This situation was far worse off than your contacts suggested.”

“But we blew up the place!” a man says, and he at least looks normal.

The raccoon snicks his tongue. “That was the only good part of the entire mission.”

“It was effective,” the large man above him agrees. He smiles at Stephen faintly before adding another bandage to his wounds.

“And the damage is relatively contained,” the woman adds.

“But it was an undercover mission,” the normal looking one says. “You were undercover.”

“Oh, I know,” the raccoon says venomously. “For weeks, I had to let those idiot Terrans poke and prod me like I was just another one of their experiments. It was demoralizing. And you know what, frankly, it was embarrassing. I’m smarter than every single one of those idiots combined.”

“So you blew them up?”

“Well, we were asked to put it out of operation,” the woman says.

“And boom,” the raccoon smirks. “They went out with a bang.”

The normal one runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, a bang that likely attracted the attention of the government,” he says. “How are we going to explain this?”

“Easy,” the raccoon says. “We don’t. We leave, stop by our employer to get our paycheck, and then get the hell out of this system.”

“I agree with Rocket,” the woman says. “The job never explicitly stated how we were to contain the situation.”

The normal one sighs. “What about this one?”

Everyone looks at Stephen.

Dumbly, he looks back. The pain has receded somewhat, and he feels hazy. He can’t move; he can’t speak. He’s too confused to try.

“I have applied the bandages and administered anesthetic to make him comfortable,” the large man says. “I believe he will recover.”

The normal looking one comes closer, squatting down next to Stephen. “Look, buddy,” he says. “I’m sorry about all this. If I had known, I would have pulled the plug a lot sooner.”

Stephen furrows his brow faintly.

The man grins impishly. “I know word hasn’t gotten out around here, but you may as well be the first to hear it,” he says. “We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy, and we have this one under control.”

Stephen’s breath hitches, but he’s fading again. Somewhere, music starts playing. He lets himself start to slip, and he’s drifting when he’s lifted off the ground. The arms, though, they’re hard and poky. He looks up and he’s staring at a tree.

The wood face smiles at him.

“I am Groot,” the tree says.

And Stephen’s mercifully passes out.

-o-

When he wakes up, there’s no tree.

There’s no raccoon.

No one is green or covered in red marks.

There’s no music.

There’s just Nick and a hospital room.

Confused, Stephen looks around for a moment. When he realizes he’s well and truly awake, he starts to shift. The movement, however, is mistake and he’s assaulted with pain. He inhales sharply, and the movement is enough to rouse Nick.

“Stephen?” Nick asks.

Breathing harshly, Stephen manages to look at Nick. “Cutter?”

Relief spreads over Nick’s face. “You’re okay.”

Stephen breathes in through his nose. “Am I?”

“More or less,” Nick says. “You cut it pretty close, and you’re going to need some therapy to get your arm working again. The doctors can’t really explain it. You should have bled out, but you’re actually doing pretty well.”

Stephen considers this.

And then considers everything else.

“Back in the bunker,” Stephen says. “Did you see anything...odd?”

Nick’s expression grows serious. “Besides you sealing yourself into a room with a bunch of angry predators?”

Stephen waits, hoping there’s more. “But...nothing else?”

“You nearly died, Stephen,” he says, looking positively harried. “I don’t even know how you survived. I was pulled out by Special Forces before they had a chance to secure the place.”

“Secure it?” Stephen asks.

“Blew it to hell,” Nick confirms. “Seemed a bit excessive, but nothing came out of there alive. Nothing except you.”

Stephen remembers this. He remembers the explosion.

But he also remembers a talking raccoon. “Special forces?” he asks.

“Must have been a highly specialized unit,” Nick says with a shrug. “The leader had this crazy mask and was wearing a red coat. Not exactly standard issue, but he seemed to know what was going on.”

Stephen remembers this, too.

“Stephen,” Nick says, sitting closer. “What happened in there?”

Stephen looks at Nick. “Honestly,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t know for sure.”

Nick takes a ragged breath, and he looks stricken as he averts his gaze. “I almost lost you back there,” he says. “And all I could think was that I should have told you a lot of things. More than that, I should have listened.”

“It was my fault, Cutter,” Stephen tells him. “All of it.”

“Well,” Cutter says with a long sigh. “You also fixed it.”

Stephen shakes his head. “I think I had some help.”

Nick cocks his head, eyeing Stephen curiously. “What did happen in there?”

Stephen lets out a breath. “I’m not sure you’d believe me, even if I told you.”

Nick leans forward seriously. “Give me a try,” he says. “I think we’ve had enough lies between us.”

“You sure?” Stephen says.

Nick’s lips twitch up into a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure.”

-o-

For once, Stephen tells Nick the truth.

It’s a story about talking raccoons, walking trees, green women, brutish men and exasperated humans. It’s a story about guardians, and people doing the right thing and watching out for each other in the process. It’s about risking your life for a cause because it matters, and having each other’s back because that’s the only thing worth fighting for in the end.

It’s a little crazy.

But for Nick and Stephen, stranger things have happened.