Unedited

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Marisol did the math. It had been three earth days since they'd first escaped the Klyn. Marisol hadn't slept since then. So, she wasn't remotely surprised when she started hallucinating.

She was stirring her sugar and creams into her coffee when it happened, trying to keep up her energy levels via caffeine so she didn't sleep. (She'd been drinking at least ten cups a day.)

A girl was waiting for her around the corner, leaning against the wall of the ship even though she wasn't really there.

Her blood red hair was pinned up in a loose bun, strands falling over her electric, glowing eyes. As a kid those things had always freaked Mari out; she was sure they were some sort of lazer eyes that would fry her brain any second.

The woman's skin was pale -- very nearly white as snow. Her finger nails were long, sharp like daggers.

The boots she wore were large enough to pound a person's skull in with one swift kick; hanging from her garments were varies weapons -- swords mostly. (Like she'd even get to use them.)

In her hair she'd placed a wilting rose, though Marisol wasn't sure how that was possible. (She assumed her over active imagination had something to do with it.)

Marisol had seen her before, many times. The first time being when she had been locked inside the dreaded room. (Apparently, white torture made a person very susceptible to hallucinations.)

Since then the woman had appeared to her every now and again throughout her life time, usually when Marisol was in desperate need of some sleep.

She had appeared so often by now that Marisol had even given her name, just so she didn't have to keep saying, "that hallucination chick."

Her name was Kale, and she was a huge pain in the ass.

Marisol let out an exasperated sigh upon seeing her; Kale smirked and wiggled her fingers at her. She grew serious a moment later, narrowing her eyes at Marisol.

"So, we're back to sleep deprivation, huh?" Kale's voice was even more piercing than her eyes, more grating than those long nails of hers.

It was cold, like the ice glaciers back on Terra. She spoke slowly, drawling out her words like she thought she needed to emphasis every syllable in order for Marisol to understand, something that had always irritated her to no end.

(Which seemed weird because one would think they didn't have irksome characters like that in their heads.)

"Fuck off," Marisol told her, moving down the hall, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

Kale reappeared in front of her as she passed the next doorway. Naturally. God forbid she manage to escape what was in her head.

"You're going to give yourself a heart attack," Kale told her, leaning against the door frame. "Or maybe a stroke." She put a finger to her lips, frowning as if in deep thought. "Not sure which is more likely at this point, what with all that garbage you've been shoving in your system trying to stay awake..."

Marisol ignored her, pushing herself right through the woman. She hoped that would make her stay away, but she knew it probably wouldn't. She'd be back soon.

Her cousin was sitting in the pilot's chair when she reached the bridge. Rocket was sitting near by, making more explosives by the looks of things.

Gamora and Drax were keeping as far away from each other as they could, but every now and again they'd shoot each other a death glare.

Groot was sitting in the chair behind Starlord, looking completely enthralled by their surroundings.

Marisol slumped into the chair next to him. She wasn't sure what he found so fascinating about outer space, but she figured she shouldn't ruin it for him if he was going to...

Marisol shook the thought away, bringing her cup of coffee to her lips to take a sip.

"What is that? Your fifth cup this morning?" Kale asked, reappearing in the seat next to her. She had one leg hiked up over the arm rest, examining her talon like nails. "Surprised it's not booze. You're kind of an alcoholic."

"Shut up." Marisol emitted a low growl of annoyance -- she really had not stayed gone long enough.

Everyone glanced up at her, each frowning with confusion. Peter turned his seat slightly, tilting his head to the side. "Uh, no one said anything."

Kale chuckled darkly from her seat, picking her teeth with her nails. "That's embarrassing..."

"Just...shut up," Marisol told her. She cleared her throat awkwardly as everyone gave her a funny look, Rocket most of all.

He was staring at her, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Out of everyone, he was probably the only one who even had a vague idea of what was going on with her.

After being friends for over twenty years, he had learned to pick up on these sort of things. Though, Marisol had never told him about Kale directly, knowing he'd just freak out about it. Very annoying.

Marisol glanced at the Milano's control panel, ignoring Rocket so he wouldn't bother her about it. Quickly reading the gas gage, she turned her attention to her cousin. "Your ship needs more fuel."

"...yeah," Peter nodded slowly. He shook his head, apparently realizing it'd be beneficial to his health if he just let Marisol's bizarre behavior go. "Uh, we'll stop soon. There's a planet coming up."

Marisol didn't respond, just stared blankly ahead, her eyes sagging down like two useless bags of sand.

She closed them for a second, but, when she once again heard that resounding snap and spotted those sinister gems, she jerked awake again.

In the next seat over, Kale shook her head slowly, clicking her tongue in disappointment. "So close."

Marisol groaned, her eyes on fire as she rubbed them once more. She took another long sip of her coffee. "I'm bored."

It sounded more childish than she had intended, but she didn't stop to think about it too much. She just desperately needed something to keep her adrenaline up, to keep her awake.

"And what do you suggest we do?" Gamora asked, sounding a bit bored herself. "Quill doesn't have much entertainment on his ship."

Rocket perked up, momentarily forgetting about Marisol's behavior as he slowly raised the explosives he'd made a few days ago, the dangerous ones. "We could --"

"We're not blowing up any moons!" Starlord cut him off, shaking his head sternly.

Gamora nodded her agreement, arms folded over herself as she narrowed her eyes at Rocket, daring him to try something.

It was a little uncanny, Marisol thought. The way the two of them already looked like a pair of parents, as if the rest of them were just their stubborn children they were struggling to reign in.

Rocket grumbled at this, and Marisol had to share the sentiment. As much as she loathed senseless brutality, it was always fun to watch things blow up -- especially moons.

Marisol carefully balanced her coffee mug on the arm rest of her chair. She stared at her cousin seriously as he turned his chair back around to face forward. "Why don't we clean your disgusting ship?"

He immediately whipped his chair back around, suddenly switching between struggling father to lazy teen.

Marisol shrugged at his expression. "What? If you two don't want to do anything that's actually fun, we can at least be productive!"

Gamora stood up right, giving the other woman another curt nod. "I actually don't think that's a bad idea." She looked around slowly. "This place could use some freshening up..."

Peter gave them a look like, there is no way I'm doing that. He turned his chair forward again. "Yeah, good luck finding any cleaning supplies."

Marisol sighed, getting to her feet. She ran her eyes over the general area, spotting some rather large dust bunnies that should have been plenty of cause for alarm.

"Evidence would suggest there isn't any." She turned swiftly for the door, glad when Kale didn't follow. "But I am ingeniosa. I'll figure something out."

She turned back to her cousin as she prepared to enter the hallways once more, not really surprised to see Gamora right behind her. "And don't expect us to clean your sorry excuse for a ship very often. We are not your maids, chico estrella. This is a one time thing, because I am in desperate need of something to do."

"You haven't been sleeping, have you?"

Marisol grimaced as Rocket said that. A few feet away Kale let out a sharp gasp, looking between Rocket and her.

"He knows!" Marisol rolled her eyes at the hallucination's annoying babbles.

They'd stopped at this quaint little planet -- a hunters and gathers type society. Purple skies. Blue grass. Grey skinned locals.

Starlord had decided everyone should stretch their legs while he filled the Milano up with fuel, so that's what they did.

Marisol had been pacing around the shipping docs for the last thirty minutes, hoping to keep herself awake and distracted from all the thoughts and memories rolling around in her head, when Rocket had approached her.

"I'm fine," she hissed down at him.

Kale snorted, leaning herself against one of the near by ships that had docked there as well. "Obviously not, if I'm here."

Marisol shot her a firm look, trying to make her face stone cold, even though she knew it was a waste of time. Kale was essentially just a figment of her imagination, hellbent on telling her everything she already knew.

Rocket followed her gaze, but of course he saw nothing. He looked back at her, actually looking quite soft.

It was a bit troubling. Marisol had grown accustomed to him keeping his walls up firmly in place.

She was use to seeing him glare at people and threaten to disembowel them if they screwed with him. In the past his worried tones only stretched so far as, "You're an idiot."

And that was it. He rarely ever showed any other sort of emotions. She'd seen his walls come down maybe three times in her life, the slight worry for her back at the Kyln prison yard room included.

Marisol scrunched up her nose. She didn't like that look Rocket was giving her. It was difficult to place, but something about it was just...disquieting. Made her feel like something wasn't quite right with her.

"You're seeing people that don't exist," Kale sighed. "Of course something is wrong with you."

She was sitting in a beach chair, tanning. Marisol wasn't sure how she'd gotten it, but then again she was a figment of her imagination, so it didn't matter.

"I'm fine," Mari said again, but her voice was a little quieter than she'd intended. It didn't sound as sure as she wanted it to.

"Okay...But have you been sleeping?"

Rocket's voice was low, the words spoken slowly, like she was some kind of scared child he didn't want running off on him.

Why did he sound like that? He'd never spoken like that before. It was all wrong! He wasn't suppose to sound like that!

Kale sat up from her tanning spot (how did hallucinations tan anyways?), propping herself up with her elbow. "He knows."

Mari kept her gaze locked on Rocket, doing her best to ignore the woman who didn't exist. That didn't stop her from being a pest though.

Kale's chair disappeared as she stood up, her red hair bobbing up and down slightly with the movement.

Her face was completely passive as she spoke, her voice stoic, that icy edge ever present. "He knows I'm here. That you've thrown yourself into another hallucinogenic spaz attack because you don't want to have bad dreams. Like a baby."

She stepped closer, coming to a stop right in front of Rocket. Kale looked Mari right in the eyes, those glowing blue eyes tearing a hole right through her. "You're destroying yourself, Marisol Gonzáelez! I'm your body's way of telling you that."

She folded her arms. "So, stop being an ass and listen for once. You need sleep." Kale nodded to where Rocket was still staring back at Mari with that blasted look. "At least try so your friends can stop worrying about it."

Another intense glare. "You need to go to sleep."

"¡Dios mío!" Mari snapped, dragging out the í sound of the word. "I can't sleep! ¡Joder!"

That expression only worsened on Rocket's face. Mari winced. She didn't want to see it anymore. "Why not?"

Mari glanced at Kale, and she gave a small shrug. But when she spoke her voice was as condescending as ever. "Sure. Go ahead. Tell him why you haven't been sleeping. Tell him about the dreams you've been having. That you've been hallucinating. That you're going crazy."

"¡Ayyy! Just leave me alone, will you?!" But Mari wasn't sure if she was referring to Rocket or Kale.

Whatever the case, they both went away, if not just momentarily. Kale disappeared like a ghost, and Rocket stared at her with that stupid expression for another moment before scurrying off to help Quill with the Milano.

Marisol let out a heavy sigh, watching him go. She really hadn't meant to be rude -- at least not that time. But her dreams...

She didn't want to acknowledge them. There was only one other thing that had managed to unnerve her as much as those dreams had -- that of course being her time on Halfworld.

It was a long shot, but perhaps if she ignored it, if she just didn't do anything to set the dreams' future into motion --- then maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't happen. Groot wouldn't die.

Maybe the others would live too. But most importantly Groot would not die. At least...she hoped so.

She didn't contemplate on that thought for too long, though. Seconds after Rocket left, that foreboding sense seemed to remember her, and Marisol realized she'd just done something stupid.

She'd told Rocket to leave her alone. Sure, she had been alone before he showed up, but she had been distracting herself before, trying, again, to figure out what Peter had done with his walkman.

Besides, Kale had been around, and -- even though she wasn't real -- she managed to make Marisol feel less alone.

Now that both Kale and Rocket were gone and Marisol couldn't think of anything distracting enough, there was nothing roadblocking that lonesome suffocation.

Marisol's chest grew tight as she glanced around at all the ships around her. Her palms were sweating; her throat closed off.

It didn't make sense to her, considering she could still see the others by the Milano not two feet away. And in the opposite direction, there were at least two strangers working on the engines of their own vessels.

Technically, she wasn't really alone. But her body didn't seem to get the memo. Her breathing was getting particularly labored, her chest feeling as though someone had placed an anchor on it.

Mari's thoughts grew sluggish again. So, it took her a moment longer to remember she hadn't actually answered the riddle from a few nights ago.

"They..." She had to stop briefly for a labored gasp of air. "They were all married."

Slowly, the paralyzing numbness seeped out. Marisol found it a little easier to breath. She was trying to think of a riddle, when she heard someone behind her ask, "Who was married?"

Marisol jumped, whipping around. She relaxed when she realized it was only Gamora. (Normally, she was more observant and people usually couldn't sneak up on her, but she figured with a panic attack in progress her sloppiness could be excused.)

"Sorry," Gamora said, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I was an assassin. Sneaking up on people is kind of our thing."

Marisol snorted. She shook her head, turning her attention back to the Milano, watching as Peter and Rocket argued over who put the fuel in the ship.

She tried not to appear too relieved by the new presence the other woman provided. After all, she did have a certain demeanor to uphold.

"Don't get use to it," Marisol told her. "I don't make a habit of letting people sneak up on me twice."

"Of course," Gamora nodded slowly. She scowled distastefully as Rocket and Quill started beating each other up with the gas hose. "So, who was married?"

Marisol blanched, glancing back at her. She'd thought her question had been rhetorical when she'd first asked it, but her face revealed no signs of sarcasm. "It's a riddle."

She tilted her head to the side, looking more like a small, curious child than a tough, dangerous assassin. "A riddle?"

The wind caught her hair for a moment, the dark and violet strands mixing together beautifully in the sunlight of the planet.

Gamora was really pretty, Marisol had to admit. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see that much about her. But she wasn't really her type.

They were too similar. Both smart, good with weapons. Skilled in combat. Both had pretty rotten pasts. (At least Marisol doubted living with someone like Thanos the Mad Titan for a father was easy.)

Being with her, even for just a quick shag, would just be like being with herself. If Marisol wanted to screw herself, she could have done that multiple times already in the galley once everyone else had gone to sleep.

"Yeah," Marisol said. "The whole thing's like this: You see a boat filled with people. It hasn't sunk, but when you look back you don't see a single person. Why?"

Gamora gave another slow nod as she started understanding. "And the answer is that everyone on the ship is married?"

"Yeah," Marisol said. "It's designed to make you think outside the box. Logically, you might immediately think the answer is something like 'they jumped overboard' or 'they all went below deck.' But you have to focus on the word choice: single. Double meaning and junk."

"I see," Gamora said. "Do you do these riddles often?"

Marisol gave a short shrug in response. She wasn't really sure why it mattered, but she answered her question anyways. "I had a whole book of them back hom -- on Terra."

Gamora scrunched her face up, and Marisol briefly recalled the way kids use to make fun of her little riddle book and call her a freak for it.

But Gamora didn't comment on it. Instead, she said, "Neither you or Quill talk much about Terra."

Marisol balled her fists into the sleeves of her jacket, watching as Groot and Drax came out of the convenience store near by. (They'd gone in awhile ago to collect some garbage food for Quill.)

"What's there to talk about?" She couldn't bring herself to meet Gamora's eyes. "Just another planet."

Gamora shook her head, not having any of it. "You almost called it home."

Marisol stiffened. She clenched her fists tighter at her sides, keeping her eyes across the way as the boys went inside the Milano to organize the junk food -- which basically consisted of merely tossing the food inside the galley without actually putting anything away.

"It doesn't matter," Marisol grit out. Gamora looked like she was about to say something else, but she cut her off before she got the chance. "They'll completely trash everything we cleaned earlier. We better go catch up."

She hurried off towards the Milano, not stopping to see if Gamora was following.

I'm not sure about that stopping point. I wanted to end somewhere else, but I think I'll use that as a starting point for next chapter.

Also, this isn't my favorite way to portray hallucinations, but I got the idea for Kale the other day and I just couldn't let it go.

So, I keep trying to update this on Monday, but so far I've been late twice, posting it on Tuesday instead. So, I think you can expect an update for this story on either Monday or Tuesday. Thanks for reading!