Past Me

Million feelings passed through Yondu's mind as he was watching his younger self, standing in front of him. First there was astonishment (What the hell? Why Teenage Me is here too?), then a sudden realization (Oh, that's right… It's in my head… Well, it kind of make sense that I see Young Me in this place.), then there was disgust (Was I really so scrawny as a teen?) and then… then there was a string of sadness, as Yondu kept observing those red eyes that were, and at the same time weren't, his own.

He could clearly see the whole palette of emotions on the face of his younger version. None of those emotions were positive. The boy's gaze was piercing, heavy with its accusatory nature. He didn't have to say anything. The pure hatred in Young Yondu's eyes was telling the elder Centaurian everything. The more Young Yondu was watching him, the more Old Yondu felt ashamed.

The boy slowly approached his elder version and stopped right in front of Yondu, looking him in the eyes.

And then he spited on him. The Ravagers' captain felt the saliva on the right cheek, but his eyes were fixed on the kid in front of him.

Finally the Young Yondu decided to break the silence.

"So this is what I've become." His voice was hissing, oozing with contempt. "Not a warrior, not even a hunter… Just a dirty coward."

Normally Yondu would tell little brat to shut the hell up, but for some strange reason he couldn't say a word. In the meantime Young Yondu raised his voice.

"What have you done to avenge our tribe?! What have you done to make those bastards pay for what they did?! You dare to call yourself a man?! You're making me sick!"

He came closer to Yondu, forcing him to take few steps back. The older of the Centaurians kept backing away, while the younger one kept approaching him.

"If I knew I will become someone so pathetic; that I will be such a disgrace to my tribe, I would find the Brotherhood of Badoon and let them kill me."

Suddenly they were outside again, surrounded by dead bodies of their tribe. Both Yondus stopped. At first the older of the two thought that his boyish self will proceed with his rant, but Young Yondu turned his gaze off him and looked around. The expression on his face changed from hatred and anger into heartbreaking sorrow. His features softened, shoulders dropped and eyes… eyes started to shine from incoming tears that after a moment ran down his cheeks.

And then he started to slowly walk by the corpses, watching them carefully. When he stumbled upon his parents, his face was lit with determination as he ran to them and started to shake their bodies.

"Mother, mother… Please, wake up."

Yondu observed his younger self as the memories were overwhelming him. That was what happened when he discovered the slaughter of his village: a really stupid thought crossed his mind. A really foolish, naïve thought that maybe someone out there weren't dead, just unconscious.

But they were all gone.

And even though Old Yondu was standing few feet away, he could see how his other self was breaking apart; how he was screaming with pain, clinging to the bloody corpse of woman, who gave him life. For Old Yondu it was so weird. It was so very, very weird to see that scene playing before his eyes. He was feeling his old grief over death of his family… but at the same time he felt like he was watching someone else crying over them. Like he was only observing as someone's world was breaking apart.

Then the weeping suddenly stopped. Young Yondu stood up and turned to his older self.

"Do they mean nothing to you?! Did you care so little about your own tribe that you let them die?!"

Old Yondu didn't say anything. Once again he found himself speechless.

He remembered that when he finally realized his tribe is dead, the next thought that crossed his mind was…

"You should be here!" Young Yondu yelled in his direction. "You should fight alongside with them! After all, you're a man already! Men should protect their tribe! That's what they do! But you weren't here!" Another streams of tears ran dwon his cheeks. "You were merrily hunting in the woods! What kind of man are you?!"

The boy started to walk towards Yondu, his gaze was fierce and once again filled with hatred.

"It's all your fault! You're just a useless weakling, that's all! And because of your weakness, mother, father and everybody else are dead! The village was under attack and you let the Brotherhood Badoon slaughter them!"

Yondu felt the bitterness rising inside of him as he was listening to the boy's accusations. He wanted to say something, he really wanted to defend himself… but the truth was that he couldn't form words into sentences that would make sense. So he kept on being silent and listening Young Yondu's harsh speech.

Suddenly he felt an odd heaviness in his hand. Like he was holding something that wasn't there before. His eyes moved from his younger self to the thing in his hand and he found there a shovel. A moment later he realized that Young Yondu stopped his rant and was now standing in front of him.

Yondu was observing the shovel in his hand. What it was doing here? Why he was holding it? And then he heard birds circling above the village and he remembered.

He spent most of that fateful day crying over the Zatoan tribe, before he realized that they need to be buried or else the birds will eat their bodies. As much as he hated the thought of digging up the graves for the whole tribe, he knew he had to do it. He wasn't fighting for the village, he should at least give them the proper burial.

Don't worry, mister Udonta. When you'll finally get there, you will know what to do.

Yes, he did. He had to bury the Zatoan tribe once again.

"Ah, mister Obfonteri, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." Said Memorandus, when Kraglin entered the room.

"Let's get this over with." The Ravagers' first mate looked serious. "How is Yondu doing?"

"As you can see," The psychologist moved aside to give Kraglin a better view on the monitor. "mister Udonta's mind returned to the memory of that day."

Kraglin's eyes moved on the monitor. He could make out the view of his captain standing few inches away from some dead Centaurian and deepening the shovel in the ground. The first mate quickly recalled Yondu's drunk confession about that fateful day. Right now he could actually see the glimpse of that day. Yondu on the monitor seemed to be focused on his work, but Kraglin could imagine that this whole situation was making him feel uneasy at best.

Then he realized that – aside from Yondu – there is another living Centaurian. A young boy was standing in the distance and saying something, which Kraglin couldn't hear very well.

The Ravagers' second in command turned to Memorandus.

"Who's this kid behind Yondu? Is this another survivor?"

"Sure, in some sense…" Memorandus smiled, but then he got serious. "Sooner or later, the patient encounters the manifestation of their psyche. Whatever this manifestation says or do, it's a combination of feelings and thoughts of the patient."

For a moment Kraglin was silent. He was only observing Young Yondu. The view "manifestation of psyche" was small and barely visible, however Kraglin could see that Young Yondu wasn't very muscular and had a tribal clothes.

"I can make it bigger, if you want, mister Obfonteri." Memorandus spoke suddenly.

He clicked few buttons and the view on the screen gave a closer look on Young Yondu's face. The Ravagers' second in command felt melancholic, while observing the boy's features. So that's how Yondu looked like, when he was sixteen… It was kind of weird to see his captain as a youngster, after all they've met when Yondu was in his thirties. He was more tough, mature and went through a lot of serious shit since his teenage years. He was also going to went through a lot more, before he got to the point they were today.

But this boy – because it was just a boy, after all – knew nothing about the trials the fate had prepared for him. This boy knew nothing about things he was going to see, hear and suffer. This boy knew only Centauri-IV and Zatoan tribe.

And he just learned that he was the only survivor of that tribe.

"Mister Obfonteri," Memorandus' calm voice cut Kraglin's musings and the first mate turned to the psychologist. "I have a proposition."

"What kind of proposition?" Kraglin asked, glancing at the monitor.

"There is another helmet in this machine. In case if the psychologist or someone close to the patient would like to come into the vision, as a, let's call it a 'guest', and say something to the patient."

"It sounds very risky." Kraglin commented. "Is it a bit unethical to enter into someone's head?"

Memorandus smiled.

"The 'guest' can't affect the vision in any other way than by words. Yes, it can be dangerous, after all words can trigger certain emotions… however, the 'guest' can't use his own mind to twist the vision, since the main mechanism works on patient's brain."

"Oh, I understand… I guess…" Said Kraglin. "And you want me to be the 'guest'?"

"Mister Quill informed me that you're mister Udonta's best friend. Therefore, I assume that, of all the Ravagers, you would be the best candidate for the 'guest'. Of course, only if you think, the intervention would be necessary."

"You're the psychologist here. You should talk to the patient and know what to do."

"Yes, of course. But I'm only informing you about the possibility, mister Obfonteri. Now," He turned to the monitor. "let's turn up the volume a bit."

Yondu was digging the hole. He remembered digging to be a bit more tiresome work, but he guessed that he couldn't get physically tired in his own dream. When he began his task, for one moment the only sound was that of the shovel deepening in the ground… but then Young Yondu sat on the grass few feet away from his older version, and said:

"You probably don't even remember them, do you?"

Yondu froze in the middle of the work and looked at the boy.

"You don't remember how mother and father looked like. You don't remember grandmother's voice when she was singing lullabies to you. You don't remember the names of your close friends."

"No, I remember." Yondu spoke, for the first time in forever, but his voice was weak.

He returned to digging.

"But you want to forget them."

Young Yondu stood up and approached his older self, who didn't stop the work, but realized that his arms were shaking a bit. The boy leaned on the nearest tree, on Yondu's left.

"You think that the Ravagers will become your new tribe." The teenager said.

The older Centaurian stopped his work again, but this time he didn't even look at his younger counterpart.

"You think that you can replace the Zatoan tribe with bunch of thugs. You think that you can be their chief and that you will be happy once again." Young Yondu neared to the Old Yondu's ear and whispered with contempt: "You're pathetic."

The Ravagers' captain closed his eyes and bit his lip. There were times when he really thought about his crew as a sort of a tribe. There was the same feeling of unity and camaraderie as between Zatoan's chief, Yondu's father and other warriors. But there were also times, when he wondered if by calling the Ravagers his tribe, Yondu was betraying his people; if their spirits were looking at him and feeling anger because the last Zatoan found new friends and family. Maybe that was the real reason that they were coming to him at nights…

He opened his eyes and looked at his younger self.

"The Ravagers will never replace the Zatoan tribe. Every person is unique, therefore nobody can replace them, at least not entirely." He said calmly, hiding the rising feeling of sadness. "But the Ravagers are my crew. They are my friends and family."

"And look, what happened to the last friends and family you had." Young Yondu opened his arms. "Look how good you were in protecting your close ones. Look at their corpses."

Old Yondu turned his eyes away from the boy and he gazed at the bodies of his tribe scattered around the village. For a moment, for a split second he saw red-coated aliens lying among the Centaurians.

"You've already buried your own men." Young Yondu said. "You're going to forget about them too?"

Old Yondu shot him a cold glare.

"No, of course not!"

"Yes, you will forget them. Because you don't want them to haunt you in the night."

Yondu was angry. He didn't know why it took him so long, but he felt that he finally had a courage to talk back.

"Listen, you little brat…"

"In the end, you're no different from me!" The boy exclaimed. "You've had more than half of your lifetime to avenge your tribe! To track down the Brotherhood of Badoon and make them pay for what they did!" He then saddened and lowered his voice. "But you preferred to deliver things and fight for money. You're weak. You're pathetic. You're a coward. And you deserve to die."

Yondu gazed at his teenage self and felt like something was stinging his heart. For a moment there was only silence, then he finally returned to digging up the grave. Eventually, he spoke:

"Yes, I do. And you don't even know, how much I want to."

"This is not good." Kraglin turned to Memorandus. "Do something! You're supposed to help him, not make him more suicidal!"

"Mister Obfonteri, the key part of every therapy is patient's will to change." The psychologist was still calm. "Your captain has to fight with his worst enemy – himself. We can tell him many things, but he has to come to some realizations on his own."

For a moment Kraglin was speechless. He looked at the monitor, where Yondu – with the most grim and heartbroken expression, his first mate had ever seen – was digging.

"I can try to talk to mister Udonta," Memorandus started, turning Kraglin's attention on himself. "but I don't know him. And he won't trust me. Not the way, he trusts you, mister Obfonteri." He raised his chin and smiled. "Besides, I'm certain that you have few things to tell this young man."

He pointed at the monitor and Kraglin knew that Memorandus meant Young Yondu. Part of Kraglin wondered why the hell this so-called specialist in psychology wanted to leave the talking to him, but the other part actually wanted to obliged.

There were times when Kraglin was thinking about how sixteen-year-old Yondu must have felt, when he saw his dead tribe, and the Ravagers' first mate actually imagined that he was turning back in time and say things, Yondu should have heard that very day. Maybe if he would hear them back then, as a teenager, he wouldn't be haunted by memories as an adult.

Kraglin looked at Memorandus with the expression of pure determination.

"So where is this other helmet?"