A/N hi there im in the middle of completely revising this fic atm! You're welcome to read through but there will be inconsistencies.

The girl was glaring at Yondu like she was trying to set him on fire with her mind. If she needed to make him the villain, that was fine. He could be the scary pirate who ripped her away from her home. That role suited him better anyway. He was never a good man.

Regardless of what the brat thought of him, she would be safe here. All the other kids would go to Ego like lambs to the slaughter, but this one, this one Ego couldn't have. He would never get his hands on the girl for as long as there was still air in Yondu's lungs and blood in his veins. He would protect her.

Kraglin interrupted Yondu's train of thought, "You speak any Constant girl?"

Gamora was huddled in a ball, sitting as far away from them as physically possible. She was handcuffed to a bed inside the med bay. They had to sedate her because she wouldn't stop fighting the crew long enough for them to explain what was going on. She was a scrawny little thing, couldn't have been more than seven, maybe eight standard year cycles. Her maroon hair was pulled into twin buns and braided. Her matching outfit looked like they had been patched over by skilled hands, several times. Kraglin switches languages with ease, "What about Standard?" She turns her head slightly to look at him, and then quickly looks away. "Xandarian?" There was no response. Kraglin continues in Xandarian, "Alright, that's all I got. Should I hold her down and chip her, Captain?"

"Naw, I saw that look. You understand Standard just fine don't cha, girly." Yondu drawls out as he leans forward in his chair.

She clenched her jaw, her lips curled into a vicious snarl as she glared them down. "Are you in charge?"

"I am." Yondu continued in a mocking, whining tone, "Lemme guess, you wanna go home."

"My mama can't pay the ransom." She states forcefully. Her eyes dart nervously between Kraglin and Yondu. "And I can read and write too."

"What?" Kraglin muttered.

"Nobody wants an educated slave," Yondu clarified. A look of horror flashed across Kraglin's face but he was quick to conceal it. Yondu had been through this song and dance several times before. "I don't negotiate with useless little girls."

Suddenly the handcuffs unlocked, Gamora reached towards Yondu's hoster expecting to find a blaster. In the same instant, Yondu whistles. The arrow leaves his holster. Gamora gasped and flinched. The arrow was hovering dangerously close to her eye. He stands up and slams his fist down on her head. He held back some, of course, but he still wanted it to hurt. "You damn brat!" Gamora yelped and covered her head with her hands. Yondu whistled again and the arrow returned to his holster. "Anybody else woulda spaced your ass for causin' half this much trouble!"

Gamora furrowed her brow and pursed her lips, "Spaced?"

"It's when they throw ya out an airlock and ya die." Kraglins casual tone made Yondu relax. "It's station rat slang."

The kid looked back at Yondu, "You're a rat man?"

"No! A station rat is someone who was born on a space station, but that ain't the point! The point is I should've killed you!" Yondu said, clearly exasperated.

"Why didn't you just say that?" Gamora frowned, "Standard is my second language."

Yondu burries his face in his hand and then rubs his temple. He takes a deep breath before he looks up again. "How didja get outta the handcuffs, girly?"

She moved her fist behind her back slowly, she looked over at Kraglin nervously. "My name isn't girly, it's Gamora."

"Okay, Gamora, what's in your hand?"

She leans away from him, narrowing her eyes, "Nothing."

Yondu rolled his eyes. He grabs her arm and forced her fist open. A whimper escapes her lips as he handles her roughly. Yondu snorts, "You missin' some keys, Kraglin?"

Kraglin's eyes widened, he tapped his pockets, "Aw shit. You sneaky little–"Yondu tossed the keys to Kraglin. He returned them to his pocket.

"Maybe you ain't completely useless after all," Yondu mused. He assumed she must have learned how to pickpockets on the street. "Yeah, you've got potential, girly. You could be a decent ravager someday."

"No! I want to go home!"

"Of course you do." Yondu rolled his eyes and turned to Kraglin. "Assign her a bed and put her on the work schedule will ya? I'll get Hazira to make her some clothes. Lemme know if she gives ya any crap."

"Aye, Cap'n," Kraglin nodded.

Gamora stands up, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Let me go home! Please! You can't keep me here!"

"Oh well since you said please," Kraglin said in deadpan.

"Really?"

"No." Yondu shoved Gamora back onto the bed. "I'm doing you a favor here, girly. Y'know how many kids would kill for a position on a wealthy ship?" Gamora glares at the floor, she grabs fistfuls of bedsheets. "Ya better be fuckin' grateful." And with that Yondu left the med bay.

Kraglin collects the handcuffs and waves them at Gamora. "Do I need to handcuff you to the bed again or can ya sit quietly like a good girl?" She pulls her knees up to her chest and scowls at nothing. "Look, I don't like this either so let's not make it harder than it has to be, yeah?" When she still doesn't respond, Kraglin drops the handcuffs onto the foot of the bed and turns towards the small section of counter. He loaded the translator chip into the injector and prepared the pain killer. Kraglin saw movement in his peripheral vision. He tapped a button on his tablet to lock the med bay's doors. They shut in Gamora's face. "No, no, no!" She slammed her fist against the door, making dents in the metal.

Kraglin sighed, "Ya just don't know when to give up, do you?" He set the injector down and fetched the handcuffs from the bed. "We're hundreds of light-years away from your home planet."

"That doesn't matter, I'll steal a ship," Her voice waivers.

Kraglin snorted, that idea was laughable, a pipe dream. "Even if you could, you're not a pilot." He crossed the room to stand behind her.

"I'll figure it out!" The kid picked up a chair with surprising ease and lifted it over her head.

"Don't break that!" Kraglin ripped it out of her hands. He set it down safely out of the way. "Even if you could find a pilot and steal a ship, where could you possibly go?"

Gamora's lower lip trembled. The kid pounded on the door again. Her fist left a dark bloodstain. "Shut up!"

He grabbed her fist trying to keep her from injuring herself further. "Do you really think you can outrun us? That we won't find you?"

"Just shut up!" Gamora turned and punched Kraglin in the stomach. He took a step back, surprised by how much it actually hurt. She might have even bruised him.

Gamora tried to hit him again but Kraglin grabbed her wrist. She struggles against him. She pulls one hand free and hits him again. Kraglin blocks her tiny punches easily, letting her wear herself out. She hits his chest and then leaves her hand there. She clings to Kraglin's shirt. Anger suddenly gives way to sadness, as she breaks down sobbing. She leans against his chest as she cries. Her knuckles are cut open and her wrists are red and sore from the handcuffs. Kraglin is confronted by how vulnerable she was. Even with all that strength, she was still terribly fragile. "I want my mama. I want mama." She keeps repeating the words over and over.

Kraglin gently pries her hands off his shirt and leads her back to the bed. She sits down without being told to. Kraglin isn't sure how to comfort her and tries to remember what his old quartermaster did to comfort him. He grabs a tissue from the bedside table and wipes away her tears. Gamora takes uneven, shaky breaths. Gef laughed, "Ain't that precious?" He pulled back the curtains that gave the beds the illusion of privacy. All the commotion must have woken him up.

Kraglin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Shut up Gef." She was a child, she was allowed to be sad. Gamora rubs at her eyes, desperately trying to pull herself together.

"You got stuck babysitting again?" Gef gestured towards the kid, it wasn't really a question.

As the first mate, Kraglin had to oversee all cargo handling, this included ensuring their live cargo got to Ego undamaged. It felt natural to dote on Gamora, too. "My whole job is babysitting you a-holes," Kraglin muttered. He takes one of Gamora's hands examining her knuckles.

Gef took it lightly, maybe it was all the painkillers putting him in a good mood. "We ain't children."

"I know that she listens to me." Gef looked confused but Kraglin didn't feel like explaining it to him. Kraglin grabs alcohol, cotton swabs, and bandages from the cabinet, before sitting down across from her. Gamora hissed and tried to pull her hand away, as Kraglin cleaned her wounds. "Stop you're crying. You brought this on yourself, actin' like that," He scolds her quietly.

Gamora fidgets, "It stings! And I'm not crying!" She sniffles loudly and blinks back tears.

"Oh, that's real convincin'," Gef snickers at her.

"Remind me to teach you how to lie sometime, donut head." Kraglin chuckled. She allowed him to bandage up her knuckles.

Gamora tugged at her twin buns, self consciously. "They're not donuts."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," She narrowed her eyes at him, "Are you teasing me?"

"I would never do that," Kraglin deadpanned.

He rolls his chair over to the counter and grabs the injector and the painkiller. Gamora sees the needle, and her eyes go wide with panic. She scrambles back as Kraglin comes closer. Her back is pressed up against the headboard of the bed. Kraglin rolls his eyes, "Don't look at me like that. If I wanted ta hurt cha I woulda done it already." He tossed the injector onto the bed. "Ya know what that is?"

Gamora cautiously picks it up, slowly rotating it in her hands as she inspected it. "Um, it looks like... a universal translation chip, a fancy one too. How much did this cost?"

Kraglin shrugged, "Three hundred units, maybe."

"Three–three hundred units?!" Gamora's eyes went wide, she dropped the injector onto the bed. She started counting on her fingers, "I could buy 80 cakes with that. No–no wait–85 cakes! That's food for two months! Maybe three if we rationed," She muttered to herself. Kraglin didn't have the heart to tell her that wasn't a lot of units.

"It needs ta go into the back a' your neck," Kraglin explained. "Wasn't doin' nothin' bad."

"Hurts like hell, though," Gef grunted.

"That's very helpful, Gef, thank you," Kraglin mutters sarcastically. Gamora narrows her eyes at the injector, refusing to get any closer to Kraglin. He sighs heavily, "You ain't leavin' this room until you're chipped, donut head."

"They're not donuts!" Gamora snapped at him.

He shrugs and picks up the injector, "I've got a pain killer here for ya. It ain't that bad." Gamora looked at the door, but her mind was elsewhere. She sighed and moved closer to him. Kraglin injected the chip.

To say that lodging a piece of metal into your spinal cord was an unpleasant experience would be a dramatic understatement. Gamora clapped a hand over the back of her neck. There was a screaming pain in the base of her skull that burned all the way down her spine. It felt like she had been shot. Her nails dug into the palm of hands until they drew blood. She felt a pinch as Kraglin injected something into her neck. A moment later, the pain started to fade. Her muscles relaxed, she felt numb. Gamora focused on her breathing, she blinked her eyes back into focus. She slapped Kraglin's arm, "You liar! That hurt a lot!"

Get chuckles as Kraglin fends her off. "You're fine," he almost called her a baby before she remembered that she was one. He let the kid rest while he cleaned up a bit. Kraglin had considered leaving the mess but decided the earful he'd get from Brahl wasn't worth it. Kraglin wanted to stay on Brahl's good side if he could help it. He was the only one on the ship with any real medical training. Kraglin deactivated the contamination procedures and unlocked the door. He touched Gamora's shoulder to get her attention. "Kid, let's go."

She slid off the bed, "Where are we going?"

Kraglin opened a map of the ship on his tablet and handed it to her, "Here." He pointed towards the mess deck. "And all the way," he started to move the hologram quickly, "over here," He stopped over the lowest level of their quarter deck and zoomed in. "Is where you're sleeping. Memorize the number, all them cabins look the same." Kraglin was using the term cabin, loosely. It was more like a closet with two bunks shoved inside.

"I get my own room!?" Her excitement was written all over her face.

Kraglin bites back a smile, "You're sharing it. Living space is tight, this used to be a transport ship."

"Do I get my own bed?"

"Of course," Kraglin nodded. He leads them out of the med bay and down the hall. "Memorize the map the best ya can. Startin' tomorrow you'll be helping out the cook in the galley." He made Gamora walk in front of him so he could keep an eye on her.

"What's a galley?"

"Uh, " He frowned, "it's the room attached ta the mess deck, where they cook. I think y'all call it a kitchen."

Gamora nearly smiles, "Oh! I know what a kitchen is." She hadn't realized how massive the ship was until she was staring at the map. It could house and feed a small town. The ship was broken down into several different quadrants, the living quadrant was the smallest. The catwalk wasn't technically a quadrant but it was the largest section by far. It was a maze that stretched through the center of the ship. If Gamora leaned over the railing she could see all the way down to the underbelly of the ship. Pipes and machinery wove around each other into the blackness.

Kraglin shoves her forward sharply and in the next second catches her. "Don't fall."

Gamora shrieks at the sudden sensation of falling forward. She grabs onto the railing of the catwalk. Her face turned red when she realized what had happened. "You jerk! Don't do that!" She shoves him.

Kraglin chuckles, he takes his tablet back and hits her over the head with it. "Stop dawdling, then."

She whines and rubs the sore spot. "Don't hit me! I'm walking as fast as I can."

The Mess deck was what they called the cafeteria. There was a smaller room connected to both the cafeteria and the kitchen, with a buffet set up. There was a door beyond that, that leads into the galley. Gamora sat down at the table closest to the entrance to the Mess deck. They were early for dinner so the room was mostly empty. The crew working the graveyard shift lingered around the coffee machine. Kraglin spots Brahl in the group and leaves Gamora alone at the table. "Hey doc, you know what a Zen-Whoberisian can eat?"

"I can make an educated guess based on their biology," Brahl stated.

"So, yes?" Kraglin clarified, and Brahl shrugged.

He glanced over at Gamora, "That the new cargo?"

"She ain't cargo. Captain had me design her a jacket." Hazira's laughter was melodic. Kraglin reached for the bag of clothes but the tailor held it out of his reach. "What does our dear Captain want with a sweet lil' thing like that?"

"That's need-to-know information, Zira," Kraglin said flatly.

"So you don't know either." Brahl chuckled.

"Awe, and I thought you two were besties." Hazira mocked him.

Brahl was right, but Kraglin didn't like his tone. "If I tell Zira the whole ship would know by morning."

"Hey!" Hazira pursed her lips, and put two hands on her hip but then dropped them to her side. "Yeah nevermind, that's fair."

Kraglin nearly had to drag Brahl away from the coffee machine. Brahl wandered down the buffet pointing out what was safe for Gamora to eat. They served food from too many different planets for Kraglin to keep track of what was safe to eat and what was mildly poisonous. He found a yellow heavily processed sweet bread. He guessed they were those cakes the kid was yammering on about and put a few on the plate.

When Kraglin returned to the table, Gamora was gleefully digging through the bag of clothes. The ravager jacket was lying discarded on the chair next to her. "Look! Look! Hazira made these for me! I got a pretty dress and these sweaters, and pajamas, and, and–!"

"I know, that's her job." Kraglin tried not to smile, it was adorable the way she got worked up over the little things. He wasn't made of stone, damn it.

"And they're brand new!" She pulled out a soft gray sweater. Hazira had hand-stitched fluffy cartoon creatures into it. "They're so pretty! She made these for me." The kid hugged the bag to her chest.

Kraglin set the tray down in front of her. "Here, eat." He pulls a flask out of his jacket and pours a little into her fruit juice hoping the alcohol would calm her down some. He pours vodka into his cup with a splash of fruit juice.

Gamora slowly set the bag down on the seat next to her. She stared at the stack of cakes on her plate. Three days' worth of food, for one meal. Gamora's hands were trembling as she picked up a fork. She thought about every meal she'd eaten alone. Every time her family had to ration food, or when her mother didn't eat so Gamora could. This was the first time someone sat at a table with her to eat, and it was them. The people who kidnapped her. She would feel terrible if she let all this food go waste. She takes a small bite. "This isn't fair." Her vision blurred and she pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes.

Kraglin looked confused, "The food can't taste that bad."

Gamora sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve. Kraglin handed her some napkins. "No, it's good. It's really good." She took another bite. She's not going to cry.

The mess was getting crowded. Yondu was making his rounds to check on the crew when he stopped at their table. "Aw hell, Krags whaddya do ta her?"

"I didn't do nothin'." Kraglin poked at his meal. "Says she's crying 'cause the food's good."

"That's not it." Something inside her snapped. All the tears, anger, and guilt came out at once. Her meltdown felt all too familiar to Yondu. "Mama tells me you have to work to eat, and I–I haven't done anything. Mama will be cold and hungry while I get to eat this meal, and sleep in my own bed. It's not fair! You kidnapped me! I should hate you but you're being so nice to me. Why are you being so nice to me? I don't understand, I just don't understand." Gamora slumped in her chair as she sobbed. She didn't have the energy to care if they saw her upset.

The chair scraped against the floor as Yondu sat down next to her. He seemed to stare at nothing for a while, trying to decide what to say. What could he say? "This ain't being nice. This is the bare minimum. Even prisoners get food, shelter an' clothes."

Gamora takes a deep, shuddering breath, as she tries to get a hold of herself. Her bloodshot eyes bore into Yondu accusingly, "Is that what I am, your prisoner?"

"No. I toldja that this was a job offer," Yondu said sternly.

"But you won't let me go home," Gamora growls back.

"I ain't gonna help ya get home. You're welcome ta leave the ship whenever ya like, the nearest airlock is that way." He points towards the door, and Kraglin chuckles. Gamora glares at the food in front of her. "But… if ya want to pay me back, put on the damn jacket and stop brooding." Yondu picks up the jacket and holds it out for Gamora. She touched the soft leather, it was heavier than she thought it would be. Gamora unfolded the jacket, as she considered it.

The promise of regular hot meals and a soft bed was very alluring, but it still felt like a betrayal to her mother. She was still waiting for Gamora to come home. She probably thought Gamora had wandered down to the docks again to find work, even after her mother had scolded her and told her not to. Gamora's stomach growls, she wants to eat. She pulls on the red leather jacket. "Atta girl," Yondu mutters.

"I'm only going to work until I find a way out of here. I won't forgive you. I hate you."

Yondu chuckled, the girl was stubborn as hell. "I should've spaced your ass, girly! I take you in, give you a job, and you're still a brat. You owe me your life."

"That's not how that works," Gamora grumbled, "You don't save somebody's life by not killing them." Yondu chuckled again, before standing up and leaving. A full minute later she whispered to Kraglin, "Wait, was he teasing me?"

Kraglin laughed into his drink, "Oh no, he's fully serious." Gamora didn't look convinced. She turned back to her plate. This wouldn't be forever. She was going to go home to her mother. No matter what it took.