A/N: Hey guys! I'm procrastinating writing my thesis by updating with another chapter! Yay, everybody wins. Except for me in the long run, probably. But hey, maybe this will help me with my inspiration problem or something. I've been so happy with the reviews, favorites, and follows so far! If anyone has any ideas for what they want to see in the coming chapters, you can leave a review or message me privately!

Chapter 2: Your Gypsy Soul

It was his mother's birthday. May 12.

Yeah, never an easy day for Peter.

However, today he had to be their leader. They had just botched a job that was supposed to be easy, and they didn't get paid the amount that their employer originially discussed with them. To be fair, it was their fault for not having a plan. Who would've thought it would be hard to defend Xandarian farm animals from rabid Askavarian-Kree hybrids? Certainly not the team, but as it turns out, it definitey was.

They had taken a pretty bad beating, and everyone was sulking a little bit. Except Groot, which was to be expected. He had the time of his life playing in the grass as they got their butts kicked. The two that really carried them all were Drax and Gamora. They tore through the group, defending Xandar's Universal Farming Station flawlessly. If it wasn't for them, they wouldn't have been paid at all.

The only thing that really made Peter find any solace in the events of the mission was the way Gamora smiled when the Nova Prime pulled her aside to thank her personally for her hard work. Sure, they had been thanked by her before, but never Gamora on her own. Peter knew she was still struggling with her place on the team and at times, even in the galaxy. It made him happy to see that she was being recognized for all the good she's done since betraying Thanos and joining the Guardians.

But now they were back on the ship, Gamora had gone to shower and probably burn her clothes, she had purple blood all over her jumpsuit and in her hair. While Drax loved the feel of his enemies' blood all over him, Gamora took a much cleaner approach when it came to celebrating a victory. He couldn't help but smirk as he recalled Gamora threatening to find a fire hose and use it on Drax the first time they had gotten into a fight that ended rather messy for the Destroyer. Since then, most of them had gotten used to Drax's ritual of walking around proudly, smelling like death and recalling his favorite parts of the battle (like none of the other Guardians were there) for awhile before taking a shower.

Rocket had also gone to get himself cleaned up, so Peter had decided to pilot the Milano for a little while. He knew he could easily leave auto-pilot on and let it take them away from their shitty mission, but the driving cleared his head.

He had experienced two birthdays with the guardians so far, each time retreating to his room to mourn and remember his mother in peace. None of them knew, but he was sure they figured it had to do with his life on Terra. He was grateful that none of them had asked, but he was sure that they had wanted to at one point or another. He didn't know what kept them from inquiring, but he was happy for the one day of privacy.

Or at least, he thought he'd be.

Since his little unspoken-but-almost-definitely-spoken thing was acknowledged by Gamora, part of him wanted to confide in her about his mother's birthday.

He was lost in thought as he piloted the Milano through the stars, almost like muscle memory. He ended up switching auto-pilot before getting up and deciding to walk to the bridge.

As he passed Gamora's door, he noticed it was slightly adjar. He passed it, but slowly backed up, wondering if she was out of the shower. He didn't know if he wanted to tell her about his mother, but he knew he didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. It wasn't really working out for him at this point.

"Mora?" He called out as he knocked on the doorframe.

Her bathroom door was shut, and he smiled when he heard a familar song playing loudly in the room, Van Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl." He felt a small pang in his heart when he remembered it was one of his mother's favorites.

The volume of the song lowered significantly. "Peter?" He heard her call out, sounding a little confused. She opened the bathroom door, poking her head out to look at him.

Her hair was wet, he saw some of the ends dripping onto the floor as she looked at him. He suddenly felt awkward. He didn't mean to barge in and interrupt her shower. "Uh, yeah. But I can come back later. I didn't mean to-"

She cut him off, "Um, no it's okay. Are you alright?" She asked, worry evident in her eyes.

He nodded, clearing his throat, "Uh, yeah. I'm okay." He faltered a little bit, and it definitely didn't go unnoticed on the green skinned assasin.

She rolled her eyes, "Right." She looked around from her spot, sticking her head out into her room. "I just need to grab some clothes, and I'll be able to talk."

He nodded, looking down suddenly. "Oh, I can go."

She shook her head as she opened the door all the way, revealing what he had suspected: she only had a black towel wrapped around her. "I can just grab some clothes and change in the bathroom." She motioned towards her bed on the other side of her room, "Have a seat."

He did, but made a concious effort to look at anything but her. He had definitely blushed when she stepped out. Mostly from embarassment. He didn't even really know why he was here, but he felt bad interuppting her time alone to shower off the stress of the day.

She grabbed some clothes quickly and headed back into the bathroom. He felt bad; he didn't intend to just barge in and expect her to drop everything she was doing for him. She turned the music back up a little bit, and Peter thought of the first time his mother played this artist for him when he was a child.

"Wake up my little starlord!" His mother whispered happily as she shook him gently while he slept.

He rolled over, rubbing his eyes. "Mom?" He mumbled through a yawn.

She was still dressed up, and she had some glitter in her hair. She looked so pretty, it made him smile. "How was dancing?" He asked as he sat up. His mother never went out, but his grandma had insisted this man from his grandpa's office was young, well to do, and very nice. She had agreed to get dinner and go dancing with the guy that night. Peter thought they had been out once or twice already, but he wasn't entirely sure. His grandparents had spent the evening watching movies and playing board games with him.

She giggled, nodding quickly. "It was really nice, actually."

He smiled, "Good, momma. You deserve someone nice."

Her eyes seemed far away for a moment as she nodded absentmindedly. Peter wondered if she was thinking of his father. The "space man" she'd gone on about for as long as he could remember.

She snapped out of it after a moment, looking back at her son with a big, toothy grin. "Thank you, baby." She gave him a big hug, kissing his forehead as she did so.

When she pulled away, she pulled her walkman out of her pocket. "We heard some cool new songs. And Trevor remembered I have a son who loves music, so he made us a little mix."

Peter smiled at her; she seemed really excited about this guy. He was still a little skeptical, but he only sees his mom that happy when she talks about his dad. Peter didn't know anything about the guy, but it didn't seem like he'd ever come back to Missouri.

She handed him an earbud, and he laid back down beside her on his bed, staring at the glow in the dark stars she had put on his ceiling a few weeks ago.

"...I wanna rock your gyspy soul.."

The man's voice was smooth; Peter really liked it.

"Mom, what's a gyspy soul?" He asked after a few more verses.

She looked over at him, chuckling as she ran a hand through his sandy curls. "It's when someone is meant to be wild and free. On their own and doing what they please. Really passionate people, I think. Beautiful inside and out."

"Like you?" He asked, smiling at his mother.

She smiled, "That's sweet of you to say, baby."

"Peter?" Gamora, now dressed with her damp hair braided down her back, waved her hand in front of his face.

He blinked several times, snapping back into reality. "What?" He looked up at Gamora, "Oh, hi. Sorry."

She tilted her head at him, 'What is it?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

She rolled her eyes at him, but didn't press him further. She just sat down across from him on her bed, sitting criss cross comfortably as she undid her hair from the tight braids.

He liked watching her do this stuff. She was wearing an oversized Terran baseball team t shirt, which had been his, and loose fitting sleep shorts. She never let anyone on the team see her in anything but her usual, combat ready outfits. Peter had only seen her in relaxed clothing a couple times. It was a rarity, but it made Peter feel good knowing she was comfortable enough to share this part of herself with him.

Her wavy hair fell around her face, framing it perfectly before she looked at him again. "What's on your mind, Peter?"

He shook his head, looking down at her grey blanket covering her bed.

She took his hand in hers, which surprised him. "You've been off all day. What is it? I want to help."

He looked at her then, seeing the genuine concern in her eyes. "It's just uh," he cleared his throat again. "It's my mom's birthday."

She tilted her head at him, nodding slowly. "How are you doing?"

He shook his head, "I dunno. I wanna be a good leader, especially after the shit show today, but I also just feel so lost."

She nodded again, giving him a knowing look as she squeezed his hand supportively. "Today was just not a good day, if you're talking about the mission. None of us were prepared the way we should have been. That wasn't your fault."

He nodded, but he wasn't convinced.
She could tell, "Rocket and Drax stayed up last night drinking instead of getting rest or doing any training. And that was after you told them to go to bed. So no, this wasn't because you failed us. We all failed a little bit." Her voice was matter of fact, but still soft and gentle.

Peter did feel a bit better, but he still just felt like he had failed them. Just like he had failed his mother.

He had been looking down again, and he was taken by surprise when Gamora took his face in her hands, gently pulling his head back up to look at her. "If you had screwed us, I would have told you." She searched his face for some kind of sign she was getting through to him, then her expession softened even more, "But that's not what you're thinking about, is it?"

He shrugged, "I failed you guys today. Whether you blame everyone collectively or not, I am still the leader. I have to make sure everyone is okay."

Gamora shook her head, sitting back again once she figured he'd maintain eye contact with her. "Peter, we are all adults who know what's best for ourselves. Rocket and Drax not listening to you isn't your fault. They paid for it today during the mission, and they definitely realize it now. Sometimes things just go wrong, and it's not one person's fault entirely. Don't be so hard on yourself."

It was then he felt tears pooling in his eyes.

She definitely noticed, because she scooted forward, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Peter, I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"No, no." He shook his head, a few tears falling now. "You're right, and it's not about the mission." He wiped his face quickly, feeling dumb for crying in front of her. "Right before my mom died, she asked me to take her head," He felt himself having trouble breathing as he choked out a sob.

Gamora pulled him to her, and he laid his head on her shoulder, broken sobs escaping his body every few seconds. Normally, he would try to act cool or macho or whatever, but he just felt comfortable with Gamora.

"I-I failed her," he choked out as he hid his face in her hair, his tears dampening her shirt.

She shook her head, running on hand gently through his hair. "No, Peter. You didn't."

He pulled away then, staring at her with an expression that physically hurt Gamora to see on his face. He looked broken, he was slumped over, dry heaving as he tried to catch his breath enough to speak to her.

"Sh-" he took a deep, shaky breath. "She asked me to take her hand, and I didn't." He dropped his head. "I was just s-so angry, ya know? I had been so t-tough for her. I tried h-hard to stay out of trouble. I did everything my family asked and it didn't h-help her in the end. She still died right in f-front of me." He took several heavy breaths then, anger welling inside of him, "Then I find out Ego put that brain tumor in her head so he could get me for his fucking expansion plan."

She nodded then, finally understanding his grief fully. She felt rage growing in her gut, but she didn't want to get angry. She needed to be strong and levelheaded right now, for Peter.

"She would have been proud of you. And it is not your fault what Ego did to her. You avenged your mother, Peter. He is dead and he can't hurt anymore children or mothers again." She said, gripping her arm gently, supportively.

He took more deep breaths, feeling exhausted, but like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He hadn't told anyone about not taking his mother's hand, and he also didn't tell the guardians about Ego admitting to killing his mother. He didn't know what they would say, and he didn't want to unpack that with each of them. With Gamora, she just seemed to understand.

She wiped some spare tears still falling off his cheeks, kissing his forehead gently. "It's getting late, but I was going to stay up for a little while longer. Would you like to stay?"

He nodded, managing a small smile, "Thank you, Mora."

She nodded, pushing herself off the bed and padding across the floor back to her bathroom. "No problem."

She walked in and shut off the light, grabbing what she had used to listen to music. He sat up straighter when he saw what she had brought out. It was a walkman, a lot like the one she had gotten him at the market on Knowhere a little while ago.

"Hey I didn't know you got another walkman." He said, smirking at the idea that his music rubbed off that much on her.

A small smile played across her lips, "Uh yeah. I really liked listening to your old one, and the Watcher was selling two so I figured I'd get an extra in case something happened to your new one."

He nodded, "What tape do you have in?"

She popped it out, reading the worn label to him, "Van Morrison."

He felt a goofy grin spread across his face. "My mom loved that album. She played it for me when I was like 6."

She smiled then, she liked hearing about his life on Terra and his happy memories with his mother. She grabbed white earbuds off her dresser, "Do you want to listen with me?"

He nodded, feeling as if the moment was bittersweet. He stood up, taking on earbud and putting it in his ear. "Dance with me?"

She smiled at him, "You read my mind, Peter Quill."

He skipped a couple songs until he landed on one of his mother's favorites, "Into the Mystic."

"My mom loved this one," He said and he put his hand on the small of her back, swaying to the slow rhythm of the guitar.

Gamora nodded, "My father loved slow things like this. But they were all from my home world."

Peter looked at her then, a little surprised by any mention of her family. "I didn't know you and your father listened to music."

"Oh we didn't just listen, my father taught me to dance." She said with a small chuckle, but her eyes looked far off for a moment.

Peter, cupped her chin causing her to look at him again. "He would be so proud of you, Gamora."

She nodded then, smiling gratefully at him as the danced.

"I wanna rock your gypsy soul…"

"What does that mean? Gyspy soul?" She asked as they continued to dance.

Peter remembered what his mom told him, "My mom said it was someone who is strong and passionate, I think. Someone who is wild and free. Beautiful inside and out, I guess."

She looked at him, flashing a small, comfortable smile. "That's beautiful. I love that."

He smiled then, feeling tears well up once more. He blinked quickly, willing them away. "Someone like you, I think, Mora."

She smiled at him again, looking down sheepishly though. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

It reminded him of his mother's words again.

"That's sweet of you to say, baby. But I'm not as passionate as I'd like to be. You're gonna meet someone someday that'll remind you of these words."

He looked up his mother again, "I will?"

She nodded, "And when you do, don't let her go."

He smiled at her, "I'll let you know as soon as I do, Momma."

She nodded at her son, putting a hand on his cheek, "I'm looking forward to meeting her."

He held Gamora a little tighter at the memory, and they swayed to music until the tape ran out.

A/N: Okay, I know that was kind of sappy. But I wanted to include a chapter or two surrounding some parts of Peter's past. I know it's super sad, but no one ever addressed that Ego had killed his mother in Vol. 2, so I thought it would be interesting to brush on that. Give the guy some closure.

Also, the part about the Watcher selling the walkman players on Knowhere was a reference to my previous story, "Kick Off Your Sunday Shoes." You should check it out if you haven't already!