This fic is for BlackxValentine, who expressed a wish for Kraglin and Yondu story, showcasing their friendship. I've also borrowed an idea that Kraglin was once a slave.

Two insomniacs

It was one of those nights.

One of those horribly quiet nights, when Yondu could neither fall into well-deserved sleep, nor he felt like doing anything in this suddenly spare time. One of those nights, when the Centaurian was preoccupied by his past. One of those nights, when in the silence and emptiness of his quarters, he was hearing and seeing them.

He was seeing the Zatoan tribe – his family, friends, elders, younglings, warriors, shamans, the chief and his wife and sons… Their faces painted with fear and despair, but also pale, cold and covered with blood and wounds that seemed both lethal and painful. Their distant voices sounded like not from that world and contained so much hatred, guilt, anger and sorrow that Yondu covered his ears in useless attempt to not hear them.

Yondu, why didn't you come and save us?

Yondu, why did you leave us?

Yondu, why didn't you avenge our deaths?

Yondu, why didn't you die with us?

The last question was actually hissed to him. Words could not express the pain he felt, while remembering this fateful day, when Brotherhood of Badoon slaughtered his village, not even sparing women, children and elders. Yondu closed his eyes, trying to banish these horrible sounds and images from his head, but it was useless. His tribe was coming back every time with new wave of emotions he didn't want to feel.

He knew how to cope with it. He had a few tactics for sleepless and painful nights like these, and one proven to be especially effective. So he quickly stood up and called Kraglin, hoping that his first mate wasn't slumbering either.

Meanwhile Ravagers' second in command couldn't sleep too and for quite similar reasons as his captain. But his demons weren't long-lost friends and family, but the memories of his previous life filled with suffering – chains, torture, humiliation and horrible awareness of his own meaninglessness. He tried to occupy his mind with work (after all, few machines really called for his attention and he enjoyed little tinkering once in a while), but after some time, when he started to do everything mechanically, almost on the autopilot, he was returning to his previous gloomy thoughts. His old wounds were aching him, reminding about the times, when he got them.

The whiplashes on the back…

The burns and cuts on the chest…

The badly knitted broken bone of the right foot…

And the tattoo on the left arm indicating that he was nothing more but someone's property…

After some time he just couldn't focus on the tinkering, anymore. The memories of his slavery times were overwhelming him so much that he could barely lift his tools. So Kraglin left them on the floor and sighed.

He hated this kind of sleepless nights when his own thoughts decided to haunt him. He shouldn't be moved by them, anymore. After all, he wasn't a slave, he was a Ravager – a free man. He could take anything he wanted, as long as he was strong enough to fight for it. He also wasn't alone – he was surrounded by companions and he had one of the most fierce outlaws in this part of the galaxy as his captain and friend.

But it didn't ease his mind during those horrible, sleepless nights, when there was only silence filled with unwanted memories. Sometimes Kraglin wondered if other ex-slaves had the same problems. Most Ravagers had some kind of horrible past behind them, but for the most of the time they weren't talking about it, hardly even showing that something nasty happened in their lives long time ago… But there were times, when they felt like sharing their experiences. Generally in closed groups, in bars or in the middle of nowhere, when they were in the mood for confessions amongst friends. However, the next day they all were cheerful and didn't even mention things they learned about each other. At least until this weird confession-inducing mood didn't come back in the night.

In the end, there were times, when a man was once again alone with his past and pain.

Suddenly Kraglin heard a familiar sound of someone's calling him on comm. At this time of the night it could be only Yondu, who also had problems with sleep. The Ravagers' second in command smiled to himself. He kind of hoped that his captain will call.

So here they were – sitting in Yondu's quarters, talking about random things and drinking captain's personal booze. It was kind of their own little tradition. Every time, when one of them (or both, like in this case) couldn't sleep and the normal ways of coping with past seemed not to work, they were meeting here, pouring some whiskey or beer and making conversations – about their latest assignment, about the crew, about the weird-ass things they've seen, about weather, women and almost everything.

The night suddenly seemed to be not so terribly quiet. Kraglin was filling Yondu's silence and Yondu was filling Kraglin's. They both knew what was disturbing the other's sleep, they were horribly aware of each other's demons. Yondu told Kraglin once about his tribe in the moment of his drunk bitterness, and Kraglin accidently revealed once to his captain the scars after the whip, so he felt like explaining to him their origin.

Both men were doing everything to chase away their companion's demons. They were doing so by avoiding entirely the subjects of Yondu's massacred tribe and Kraglin's slavery, and focusing on something more lighthearted. As long as they were talking, the memories weren't coming back.

But sometimes Kraglin was thinking about the loneliness, guilt feeling and pain his captain had been through after the genocide of his own tribe; a genocide he wasn't able to prevent. Because how? He was a lone warrior, not even aware of the event, until it was too late. So Yondu returned to his home and instead of family and friends, he was met with the corpses and burned ruins. Kraglin couldn't imagine being left so utterly alone and burying his own tribe with a knowledge that he was the last of his tribe. He only knew that this unbelievably great pain was sometimes making Yondu want to die.

And Yondu was sometimes contemplating Kraglin's slavery years – the physical and emotional pain his first mate went through for a really big chunk of his lifetime. Kraglin's scars were hidden under multiple layers of his clothes and he was barely showing them, ashamed of his past. Ashamed of his helplessness, of his despair and of his lack of the will power to take the chains off and run away. When every day was the endless line of hard work, painful punishments, fear of said punishments and feeling of worthlessness; when even the sun couldn't give you hope… there was only a misery. Yondu wondered how many times his second in command wished to be dead; how many times he hoped to die in the sand and end his miserable existence. The Ravagers' captain could sometimes see the way Kraglin was looking at the black market slaves or the chains in prisons. The look of his distant and sorrowful eyes was enough to tell Yondu about Kraglin's gloomy thoughts.

And both of them – the captain and the first mate – were sitting here, making casual conversations. But at the same time they've wished to show each other their support.

Kraglin wanted to tell Yondu that he would never be alone and that he shouldn't feel guilty for his tribe's demise, because it wasn't his fault; and Yondu wanted to tell Kraglin that if anyone liked to enslave him again, that someone would have to fight with the Ravagers first. They also wanted to say that they were glad the other was alive. Because Yondu couldn't imagine his life without Kraglin's help and friendship, and Kraglin couldn't imagine not being on this ship, with his captain and friend. So Yondu shouldn't wish to die with his tribe and Kraglin shouldn't hope for death during his time of being a slave. Because Kraglin would gladly become his captain's tribe, and Yondu would gladly break into every slave colony to save his second in command. And they both tried to make the other understand it.

So here there were – sitting in Yondu's quarters, drinking booze and trying to fill each other's silence with happy and friendly chit-chat. The demons weren't banished forever and they both knew that their past will come to haunt them again another sleepless night, but for now it was enough for them to move on.