Hi all, yes went back to the kinkmeme and saw this, i know right? Also a few of you awesome ones have asked me if I would take the film and rewrite it from this angle. Right now I have to say maybe, I would love to but the fanfic fairies would really have to smile on me to inspire that...because the film is perfection. And happy new year, to all xx

Night Terrors and Revelations

Fatherhood Part 4

It was the smell of the acrid smoke that woke him up, so strange as it filtered through the decks which forced Peter to open his eyes. The mains lights had cut out, revealing the bright red emergency lights the colours of the Ravagers coats. Peter had a choice to sit in his bed or get up. It took a few minutes, but even though he wanted to retreat into his bed, or under the bed he found himself getting up and dressing quickly. His feet felt warm from the heat rising from the decks, so he knew there could be a fire somewhere on the ship, something he knew was dangerous. But no one had come to get him…where was everyone?

Using stealth as he tiptoed down the hall, hoping it wasn't a munity like four years earlier. Even though he knew this time he could fit into the air ducts if he had too, as the smell of the smoke got stronger mixed with the scent of metal.

The hall he was in was deserted, so he decided to go to the mess to see if Iztel and the rest were there, as he turned the corner, and almost immediately the vomit begun to rise in his body at the blood strewn sight of the dead Ravagers that were lying all around him.

Some looked sleeping, but others. Peter gasped as he saw Proctom, his instructor, his friend. The one who read him stories when Yondu and Kraglin weren't there lying on the deck, his body twisted in unnatural angles, like every bone in his arms and legs had been twisted. Peter blinked and for a second thought Proctom did too as his heart thundered in his chest and he tried to banish the tears that were threatening to fall, as he turned away.

He knew he should scream or cry for help from his parents, but was unable too as he crossed more of the decks and saw more of the crew. They were all dead, Pete was too scared to check if every one of them were still breathing, but they looked dead. He knew what dead people looked like, his parents tried to make sure he didn't but he had. They were all twisted and lifeless, and not like Ravagers. On the walls, he could see blaster marks so he knew they hadn't gone down without a fight, and he knew they would be proud of that.

The smell of the smoke was getting stronger, but Peter knew he had to move forward, if he could find them then they would be alright. As he made his way to the mess hall, a sense of hope stirred within him, maybe they left Iztel alive…whoever they were. Iztel had one arm and couldn't see right, even though he knew he that he was a brilliant fighter before Peter was born. And if Iztel was still alive, that means more of them could be but any hope he held was immediately dashed as the sight of the old Ravager sprawled on the floor, until then Peter had been avoiding touching anyone, because that would mean that this was all real.

But it was Iztel, the one who cooked for him, and had taught Peter to cook too as he rushed over, and laid his hands on the Xandarians chest, which was caked in blood, which was still warm and was soon staining Peter's hands. "Iztel." Peter pleaded over and over again, but that did nothing to change the look in the old Xandarians eyes as he had faced up to an enemy and failed and the tears fell from Peter's eyes. He knew he had to move, to find his fathers as he looked for a blaster, he knew how to fire one perhaps he could stop…whoever it was that did this as he stumbled to his feet

Peter could feel the blue blood of the old Ravager soaking his clothes, but he hardly noticed, Iztel blood was not dry, that could mean his fathers could still be alive, as filled with a renewed hope Peter almost reluctantly left the body of Iztel, feeling bad that he hadn't a coat to put around him, something like that Iztel would like, as he was always complaining about the cold.

Peter thought to himself as he stood up and left the room, to make his way down the deck, and to the bridge where he knew his parents would be standing tall and strong making everything alright Peter kept repeating to himself, as blue blood dried on his hands, as he approached the deck rail, trying to ignore the fallen men and crew still stricken around him.

For some reason he could no longer see who everyone was, but that it looked like most of them as his feet found the three steps leading to the bridge and he hesitantly called out, his voice no more than a whisper "Daddy…Dad?". There was silence as Peter repeated the names, to then switched to their real names, which sounded strange to him. "Yondu…Kraglin?" With no reply, Peter swallowed as his feet found the steps and he pushed himself up, one two three he counted in his head, even though he knew how to count in several languages. He wasn't an idiot or a baby, but it made him feel better to count as he finally got to the deck, and almost threw up at the sight before him. As his knees gave way, and his mind tried to take in the sight before him.

It wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening as he tried to get up and in the end, half walked and half-stumbled over to Yondu lying on the deck in a pool of his own red blood, that was spreading out from under his body, his Yaka arrow by his side, all bent and twisted. Something Peter thought not possible…Until now.

Peter stepped closer, not wanting this to be real as Yondu's eyes stared straight ahead, the redness had faded and Peter knew his soul was gone as he bent closer and hesitantly placed a hand on his dad's head expecting it to be warm, hoping it to be warm instead of the coldness radiating from his body, even though the heat was rising from the deck between Peter's feet.

Peter willed himself not to cry, he was a Ravager or Ravager to be, and they didn't cry. The Captain… Yondu his dad had a rule about it and he was going to be a Ravager he was going to be, even though he knew Kraglin didn't want him too. Even though he shouldn't the memory jumped into Peter's head of Kraglin telling him that, Kraglin, daddy…where was Daddy?

Peter got to his feet and begun to look around, where was his daddy, maybe his daddy was alright as he looked around and saw the first mate chair, which had its back to him, it was Daddy's seat, maybe he was in it, silently plotting a course hard at work like he always was.

Peter crept forward, maybe Kraglin hadn't noticed, maybe he was going to get him later and wanted to spare Peter from the sight of the fallen crew which is why he hadn't got him…yes that was it, as Peter reached the chair and every he wanted everything he had been holding in faded at the sight of Kraglin sitting in the chair, his hands leaning against the controls, and his head detached from his body was now lying in his lap, his mouth open slightly as if to cry out.

His head, someone had cut off his head.

"Daddy" Peter whispered as he stepped back in horror and tripped over Yondu's fallen body as the red blood mixed with the blue he was already saturated in, as the sound he had kept within for so long, amidst the metallic smell of the blood-drenched on every surface, he opened his mouth and let out a painful howl, from the depth of his stomach.

He knew he needed to get up and try to plot a course; he knew how to plot a course. His parents had showed him, but it was overridden by his own fear and he just sobbed hardly noticing the footsteps approaching him. He was too scared to open his eyes as he finally looked up with a start straight into the eyes of the Sakaaran.

Peter barely registered the face of the alien, until he saw the blaster in the tall hands as with tears in his eyes , and he felt a trickle of wetness between his legs, as the blaster fired and his world exploded in an explosions of light admits his screams.

To be continued

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