Chapter Text
Meredith coughed, shivering slightly. She glanced over at the makeshift nest beside her, gazing sadly at the tiny form laying within. Her only son, Peter, lay there, unmoving save for his shallow but steady breaths. She ran a thin hand over his small stomach, feeling the ribs that were becoming way too obvious. They stuck out like roots just lightly buried in dirt. She needed to feed him more, or feed him something better, but neither were an option right now. Her baby boy, her precious Star Lord, only 3 years old, would unfortunately probably not make it to his next birthday, unless she somehow managed to miraculously beat the horrid disease wracking her body.
But she knew that wouldn’t happen. She could feel it. It crawled through her, destroying anything in its path. It was only a matter of time before her strength gave out, leaving her son alone, destined to a slow death. It made tears well up in her eyes just thinking about it. If only they’d been human, she could have found someone to care for Peter.
'If only they’d been human…’
Meredith pushed herself up, wandering slowly deeper into the cave they were living in. A pile of books sat near a small candle. Laying down, she coughed before reaching for a book near the bottom of the pile. She flipped through its worn pages, looking for a certain page. She paused upon finding, thinking about what she was doing. If she did this, she would be sapped of all her strength, and Peter would finally have to face the inevitable, that she would be gone, and he would be alone. But if she didn’t do this, Peter would be alone anyways with no chance of being cared for. At least this way, he would have a fighting chance at having a life.
Summoning her remaining strength, Meredith hauled the heavy book up off the ground and walked over to Peter's bed. Gently, she shook him awake.
“Peter. Peter sweetie wake up.” She whispered, fighting back another rib cage rattling cough.
Peter stirred slowly, his thin, bat-like wings stretching out as he roused from slumber. The small, white spots that Meredith always thought looked like stars were just barely visible in the dim light. His large blue eyes blinked owlishly at her.
“Momma? Waah?” He groaned quietly, rubbing his eyes.
“Get up sweetheart, I need to tell you something. Something very important.”
Peter sat up at that, trying desperately to rub the sleep from his eyes. He crawled over and flopped into his mother’s lap. Meredith smiled and stroked his downy soft hair.
“Do you remember that talk we had? The one where I told you that I wouldn’t always be here to take care of you?”
Peter nodded slowly, his face beginning to show mild distress.
“Well… that time has come. But there’s something I need to do first, and I need you to promise me something.”
Her son’s eyes were leaking tears now. He let out a sob and buried his face into his mothers’ stomach, not nearly awake or emotionally stable to deal with the information he was being given. He didn’t know much, but he knew what his mother’s words meant. It meant she would be leaving him alone. Forever.
His mother let him cry. After all, how do you tell a child who has just learned that he is going to lose the only loving figure he’s ever known to stop crying?
“Momma, please don’t go!” Peter sobbed, his voice shaking. Meredith pet her son’s hair, tears dripping down her face.
“Shhh. Hush my child. It’ll be okay. I’m going to make sure you aren’t left alone.” She whispered, before placing her palm flat on Peter’s head. His eyes flashed white for a moment, before he collapsed onto her. She could hear bones crack as the spell worked its way through her son’s body, changing his appearance. Meredith fell back onto the cave floor, her strength gone. Slowly, she reached over and grabbed her unconscious son’s hand, feeling, and smelling, slick blood. She squeezed it gently, before moving to the back of the cave and laying down, closing her eyes for the last time.
Yondu stepped of his M-Ship, breathing in the damp night air. It was chilly out, so his breath was visible as he strode through the grassy field. He had been given some coordinates as to the boy’s general location was, although they seemed rather odd. The coordinates led to a thick, dark forest, filled with tall evergreens. It was dark enough that Yondu had trouble seeing where he was going, cursing a few times along the way when he stubbed his toe or tripped. How did a Terran live in this mess? It was all brambles and branches.
Yondu paused as a familiar, iron tinged scent struck his nose. He flicked open the holster of his arrow just in case things got bad. He crept closer to the entrance of a cave, but paused when he saw what was in front of him. It was a small child, small enough that Yondu instinctively looked around for other Terrans. But he found none, only a thin, crumpled heap next to the boy’s unconscious form. Blood surrounded the child, seeping through his clothes and staining the ground. Yondu closed the distance and knelt down, searching for a pulse. He found one, strong and quick despite the child’s appearance. As gently as he could, Yondu picked the boy up, and let out a surprised curse when he felt how light the child was. Had his mother been starving the kid? Where was his mother?
Looking beyond where the child had been laying, Yondu could see a still, crumpled form that reeked of blood and sickness. Not a single wisp of movement could be sensed from her form. Yondu didn’t bother going over to check her pulse. He slid a small satchel off of his shoulder and packed a few items into it. Some blankets, a book on Terran biology he found near the back of the cave, and finally, a small contraption that the child had on his person. A sort of headpiece attached to some kind if electronic.
Readjusting the sleeping child in his arms as gently as he could, he began to walk back to his M-Ship. But before he could reach the tree line, a low growl sounded out. Tensing, he spun on one foot to look behind him. 3 pairs of glowing green eyes stared straight at Yondu from the shadows of the forest. No, not at him, but at the kid in his arms. More growls began to rumble out, and large, clawed paws began to appear from the shadows. Yondu narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, ready to whistle a tune that would send his Yaka arrow straight through these beasts’ hearts, when the growling stopped. The creatures backed away as their eyes widened. They disappeared from sight moments later. Yondu cocked his head slightly. It wasn’t unusual for animals to be afraid of his arrow, but he had never seen anyone who didn’t know him personally recognize what his whistle meant.
Shaking it off, Yondu made his way back through the forest and to his ship. The ship activated its tractor beam, and within seconds he was back on the main part of the ship, near the pilot’s chairs. Kraglin was sleeping soundly in the co-pilot chair. Yondu smacked the Xandarian on the back of the head as he passed. Kraglin snorted and blinked, glancing over at the Captain. He sucked in a breath when he saw the small thing clinging to Yondu's coat.
“Cap'n! Is that the cargo?!” He exclaimed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.
“Yeah. You got a problem wit that Kraglin?” Yondu asked, starting up the engines.
“No, but Cap’n… he’s so little.” Kraglin said quietly.
“You going soft on me Krags?” The Captain growled.
Kraglin shook his head, but he kept sneaking glances at the sleeping boy the whole trip back to the Eclector. When they arrived, some of the crew had come to greet them.
Horuz cocked an eye at the sight of his captain holding a small bundle of clothing tucked up against his chest. It was only when the bundle move did he realise what Yondu was holding.
Now, being small and underfed was nothing new when it came to Ego's children, but Horuz could not remember the last time he had seen a child look so… skeletal. The child looked barely alive, breaths coming in slow and shallow, and exiting with a soft wheeze. He showed no signs of stirring as Yondu handed the child to his first mate, nor when Kraglin clumsily readjusted him in his arms. So, it came as a surprise when the child bolted awake when Yondu placed the translator onto his head.
The Terran froze, seemingly paralyzed by fear. Wide, fearful eyes darted around at the strange new people. He was shaking now, completely overwhelmed by all the new sights and faces, not to mention the complete lack of familiar faces. Horuz felt sorry for the young boy, most children they had picked up had been at least 3 years older than… Peter, was it? He couldn’t quite remember exactly what the file had said, only that his mother had fallen ill, and that the child’s name was Peter.
Skyyar, a particularly nasty V'tyana, sniffed at the child. Peter, deciding that Kraglin was a far more comforting presence than Skyyar, whimpered and hid his face in the Ravager's jacket, curling up into an even smaller ball.
“Hrmmm. Thisss one sssmellsss of weaknessesss. Perhapssss we should jussst eat him inssstead.” The green, snake-like creature hissed, sticking out his forked tongue. Yondu growled.
“You say that EVERY DAMN TIME SKYYAR! For the last time, we DON’T eat cargo!” The captain snapped. The reptilian humanoid bowed his head, but flicked his gaze back towards Peter, discreetly wetting the scales around his mouth.
Yondu turned his attention to the boy curled into his first mate's chest, placing a hand on the quaking child’s back. Peter flinched and his gaze snapped to Yondu, his pupils like pinpricks as he stared at the Captain. The child had begun to silently sob, fear gripping his heart in it’s crushing grip.
“Easy there Petey. Skyyar's jus' bee'n a as-er, jerk. Ain’t nobody gonna eat ch'a.” He soothed. Yondu was tempted to threaten to eat the boy himself, but he had a feeling, with how young and truly afraid Peter was, that doing so could only end very, very badly. He glared at the rest of the present crew. “And can I trust that my crew can make that a well-known fact?” He asked, already knowing the answer, but looking for confirmation anyways.
Horuz and the other crewmates nodded immediately, while Skyyar hesitated, only briefly, before nodding as well. Kraglin narrowed his eyes at the V’tyana but said nothing. Instead, he jerked his head towards the ceiling. Yondu nodded and handed him the satchel. Kraglin slid it onto his shoulder and headed further into the Elector, missing the hungry eyes that followed the child in his arms.