It is awkward. Boy, is it awkward.
But at least Bereet is the forgiving sort and Peter has great new memories of one bunch of assholes realizing too late that Peter's extra-special plasma balls are more than just pretty nightlights. No sir, once he's done tweaking them, they actually make quite a big boom.
(Their faces when it blew up almost make up for them not recognizing the great Starlord on sight.)
Unfortunately this event remains the high point of his day.
Everything afterwards is one giant mess of bounties and bounty hunters and strange green-skinned beauties trying to alternately kill or rob him and, most importantly, the Broker refusing to buy the goddamn orb-of-too-much-trouble.
(And seriously, what is it with the orb that even Yondu suddenly flips his shit and wants it badly enough to put a bounty on Peter's head? It's not as if Peter's never stolen from him before – or Yondu from him – and it wouldn't be the first time Peter's threatening to leave only to come crawling back a few months later. It's not as if he has anywhere else to go if the longing for whatever sorry excuse for stability and familiarity the Ravagers are offering gets too great to endure…)
A year ago their little brawl would have probably ended either in bloodshed or in a bar.
Now, though, Xandar's newly at peace and the Nova Corps have suddenly remembered that they have actual police work to do. And as if to make up for a century of negligence and a generally lax attitude regarding the law, they seem to have decided that now is the time to come down hard on anybody caught breaking it.
Peter's more than alright with that, really – the other guys are a bunch of assholes anyway – but somehow he gets thrown into the same pot as them and finds himself on a one-way-trip to the infamous Kyln.
He could have lived without the experience, really.
(He's actually pretty sure that it wasn't Millenian Dey's doing.
Dey seems to be more amused by Peter and his antics than anything and belongs, at worst, to the ever-growing "Why can't you just grow up, Quill?"-faction.
That Denarian, though, that Peter caught just the barest glimpse of before he was shoved into the next room over to get his mugshot taken? Peter's pretty sure that was Mr. Not-impressed! from the incident a few years ago.
Looks like he never quite forgot nor forgave the no-pants-part of the night. Who knew the guy could hold such a grudge?)
Anyway, the Kyln is all that Peter was promised and he really, really regrets that now is the time he decided to kind-of, sort-of, more-or-less-accidentally break with Yondu and his bunch of merry men. Otherwise he actually would have a hope of getting out of here again and some weight to throw around (without falling back on glowing hands and hoping that he finds a way to be gone before Ego arrives.).
Without it, he's kind of fucked – almost literally in fact.
(It doesn't help that his worst offence is "Fraud" while everybody else here seems to have at least one count of "Grievous Bodily Harm" or something equally serious on their rap sheet. Really, Peter almost feels ashamed for the lack of color-coded marks on his pants. It's insulting to every not-so-honest thug in here.)
(On the other hand, Peter's seriously wondering if maybe the problem with his reputation – or lack thereof – is that he's just never getting caught. But if prisons like the Kyln are the alternative…? Decisions, decisions…)
Fortunately Rocket and his giant plant-friend seem to be actually attached to their future pay-check and Peter's has enough experience with making the best of bad situations to just nod and go with it (Honestly, that's how he's lived most of his life by now anyway.).
And the two bounty-hunters aren't even all that bad once he gets to know them.
Groot is kind of quiet, Rocket is loud enough to make more than up for it and they both are just as maladjusted to functioning in normal society as Peter is. It's positively heart-warming.
If he were anywhere else, Peter would buy them a drink.
As it is, he sticks to their sides like glue without it being too obvious and watches the prison life around him, learning how to fit in.
…
On the first glance, Gamora seems to hit the jackpot with her single cell and protective custody.
On second glance, single cells are traps just waiting to be sprung and suddenly Peter finds himself in the unenviable position of negotiating with a walking, talking boulder.
(He's beginning to notice a worrying trend of him jumping to the defense of green lifeforms.
And here he thought he had escaped the black eyes and busted lips once he was away from those blasted frogs…)
Peter thinks fast and talks faster and this time he really wishes it would be the other way around because, wow, Drax the Destroyer really was created to be his nemesis.
His endboss.
His personal Kryptonite.
In the end, he has no idea how he and Gamora get out of it unscathed but apparently he has somehow signed them up for killing some guy called Ronan (He has still no idea who that is. Not really.). He will… deal with it, should he ever have to actually do something about this oath (How likely is that to happen?).
For now there are four billion units somewhere in his near future and three clashing personalities to wrangle into some kind of impromptu team to get out of this hellhole and on their way to a fortune.
(Four. Billion. Units.
Suddenly he can understand why Yondu flipped his shit. Oops…)
One giant mess later (He's noticing another trend here.) his band of misfits has actually grown to include four, but at least he has his ship back. And his walkman.
As far as Peter is concerned, everything else, even four billion units, is nothing but a bonus.
Sure, he won't say no to them, but his ship, his music and the street cred he'll get for breaking out of the Kyln – the fucking KYLN – are already more than enough.
(Starlord, the first one to break out of the inescapable Kyln, taking along four other guys on his way out. How cool is that? Finally people will know of him.)
(Hopefully without ever learning about the part with the leg…)
The company leaves something to be desired, but hey, it's only temporary and it will be easy enough to lose them once he has his money.
Heck, if he can steal the orb right under Gamora's nose, snatching the units should be child's play.
And, come to think of, he will need every unit he can get to repair whatever Rocket has done to his poor Milano.
Seriously, who builds bombs in the middle of a ship?
(Okay, Peter does.
But his bombs are made of energy and are things of highly deceptive beauty, not a pile of scrap made out of spare parts he might actually need later on. If his bombs threaten to explode, he just undoes whatever he did to them. If Rocket's explode, it means "Sayonara, Starlord". )
(Or not. The jury is still out on that.)
Naturally, Gamora and Drax aren't helping at all, shouting and arguing and apparently stuck on a default-setting of "If it still twitches, hit it harder."
Peter can appreciate a good spot of violence as much as everybody else, but usually from a distance, with some popcorn and a drink in hand.
In the end, his go-to-method to solve problems will always be talking first, shooting second, and if only because he needs the extra-time it buys him to figure out how to find the comfortable middle-ground between weak, fragile Terran and whatever a Celestial does to deal… not exactly with threats but things that annoy him.
Really, in the end, Groot's his favorite, hands down.
…
Knowhere... makes him feel sick.
Peter has never been here before, in fact, Yondu has made sure he stayed far away, and he's never been more grateful that the blue asshole put his foot down.
He wishes he was still oblivious to the giant head floating through space, the empty eyes and eternally gawping mouth.
The sight alone makes him break into cold sweat and he can't help but wonder if…
Yeah, if what, actually?
If this was once another Celestial, another planet full of pseudo-life out to conquer the known universe?
If Peter's actually the only pint-sized Celestial out here, the first or only one of his kind, or if he will one day grow into something resembling the monster in front of him and he's staring at his future?
If there was once a body attached to the trailing spine, propelling a whole organism through the galaxies, searching for others of its kind?
If these are in fact the remains of his father, his true cranium before his brain decided to leave it behind and start anew inside a hull of stone and metal, hidden from whatever beheaded him by camouflaging as a simple planet?
(If there are really other Celestials out there – what exactly was his father so desperately looking for and why is he now trying to turn everything into extensions of himself?)
(What if Ego's not the worst that the universe has to offer? What if he's only the beginning?)
(And what if the thing that has beheaded that Celestial ever comes back?)
Thanks to all its lights and signs of inhabitation, the inside is actually better.
Less disconcerting by sight alone, it's easier to forget what exactly he's walking in, but still Peter feels as if he's somewhere he really, really doesn't want to be. There's a smell in the air, a feeling down in his bones, that's not exactly telling him to run for his life but makes it clear that this place is… taboo in a way.
(If he doesn't keep his mind on the mission, all he can see are thousands of small, brittle bones in a long forgotten tomb.
And it's the same, in a way, isn't it? More dead kin he never got to know.
Who knows? Maybe this Celestial would have actually been decent.)
In the end, Peter does what he always does.
He swallows his discomfort and deflects, distracts and acts as if he has no care in the world. He bullshits and brags and swaggers a bit and when they reach the meeting point he waits until nobody is looking and downs the biggest, nastiest drink he can find.
Afterwards, he feels better.
Sure, now his fingertips are tingling and his head feels just the slightest bit woozy, but it's easier like this. The happy masses inside the bar, shouting at some stupid game or the other, are still a bit too much, but the outer gallery is nice and quiet and, most importantly, looking out at the surrounding nebula and not some part of Knowhere itself.
Having Gamora to himself is just a bonus.
A part of him listens to her story and wonders if he should tell her that he understands. If he should tell her about his own father and how he has found that once you start running you can never ever stop again. That Ronan and Thanos are the least of their problems and that somewhere out there a minor god is waiting patiently for the day he gets Peter in his hands and can reshape the universe in his image.
He doesn't.
Peter tells her about his mother instead.
Then, suddenly, the alcohol had time to work and somewhere inside his mind, there's a sign lighting up saying "One day since Peter Jason Quill got laid." Liquid courage makes him pay attention and act on the impulse.
Naturally, it goes badly.
(Peter just shrugs: As if that has ever stopped him before…)
After that, everything goes to shit. Again.
Apparently everybody has suddenly decided that it's time to share the sob stories around and Peter hates, absolutely hates, the fact he feels a growing kinship to every single one of these idiots.
Dead families, shit dads out for the blood of innocents, people using other people however they see fit…
(When he first saw Rocket's back in the Kyln what shot through his head was his old protectiveness of everything smaller than him and his mother's old lectures of "Don't do unto others what you would not want others to do unto you", by now usually healthily mixed with Yondu's more pragmatic approach of "First do unto others…" – you get the gist.
But this? Created as a weapon without having a say in it?
It hits even closer to home.)
Peter's furious because he's pretty sure his great plan to cut and run just went up in smoke.
He just doesn't have the stomach to pull one over on these sad sacks. One billion units will be enough.
And if not, he had been planning to find out if he can create something valuable – or at least something appearing close to it - for ages anyway.
(Ego thinks he is the only one capable of feeling true loneliness.
He can't understand that in a way everybody is one of a kind and that everybody is painfully aware what it feels like to be completely on your own.
Peter does, maybe better than anyone else.)
…
Peter is officially done with Knowhere.
If the whole place doesn't already give him the creeps in general, Taneleer Tivan's little shop of horrors would be more than enough to send him running.
Especially because he knows that one wrong word could set him right alongside Groot on Tivan's official wish list.
So he stays uncharacteristically quiet and hangs back, hides behind Groot as well as he's able to and tries to keep his drink down.
(He really, really misses the depictions of space from his comics right now.
Where everything was nice and shiny and better than Terra, not So. Much. Worse!)
Really, between the alcohol in his bloodstream, the nervousness making his fingers sweaty and his general discomfort at being here at all and in the Collector's presence in particular, it should be no surprise at all that he lets the orb fall. But he picks it back up quickly enough (Yay!) and now the Collector is probably thinking him a bumbling fool. (Double-Yay!)
Sometimes you have to take the small wins.
(Sometimes small wins count far more than big ones ever could.)
Then it gets worse. Naturally it gets worse.
The moment Tivan opens the orb a wave of something seems to surge through Peter.
It feels as if somebody suddenly ignited a fucking sun in the middle of an empty universe, beckoning him closer with a promise of power, a promise of potential just waiting to be used, to be unleashed.
It sings its siren song to anybody capable of feeling it, whispering and tingling over their nerves and senses, luring them to just take a look, have a try, give it their best shot and perish!
Peter inhales sharply, he can feel his hair stay on end and he's at once suddenly stone-cold sober and slightly dizzy from the wellspring of energy barely kept in check just mere steps away from him. He doesn't even need to hear Tivan's little nightmare of a bedtime story to know that whatever happens from now on, as long as this thing, this Infinity Stone is involved, it will only end in tears (in death, in destruction).
And there are six of them…
Suddenly the threat of Ego looks like a joke in comparison.
(He just barely manages to pay attention to Tivan's story at all.
Later on he will only remember the gist of it, together with a vague impression of "Hey, I think I know you. Who are you? I've never seen you before…" when he shudders at the memory of a giant humanoid shape destroying all life on Morag with a single touch of its staff and a surge of bright purple light.)
He notices too late that the Stone has lured another person into being its thrall, drawing her closer by her desires and fears and wishes to be more. To change the status quo, to finally be free and to have, just for once, nothing but raw, unbridled power.
The Stone looks shiny and pure and beautiful, but Peter can feel the trap waiting for the unprepared, for those who just aren't capable of weathering the hidden storm just waiting to be unleashed.
The Krylorian touches the Stone.
The screams are horrible.
Gamora may be the one reacting first, getting both of them out of the way and in a sheltered place, but Peter is the one actually feeling the energy cresting over them, licking at them in playful waves and coyly brushing against whatever sorry attempts Peter manages to shield and bend and guide it away in an effort to keep the both of them safe.
The screams never seem to end.
In the end, Tivan's little private zoo lies in shambles and they are still stuck with the Stone, now safely (Ha!) enclosed in the orb again.
Because really, what else can they do?
Peter wants absolutely nothing to do with it, wants to dropkick it to one end of the universe and run to the other, but now he's aware of it, had a taste of it, he can sense the Stone in all its questionable glory and you don't just leave something like that just lying around and hope for the best.
He can still hear the screams…
Peter desperately tries to find the silver-lining, because there has to be one somewhere, there has to be a way to go back to normal, whatever fucked up version of it there is, but before he gets further than one last-ditch attempt to get money out of a job really, really gone wrong, shit really, really hits the fan.
He finally gets the chance to meet Ronan.
(He's surrounded by idiots.)
And Yondu has finally caught up to him.
(Peter's the biggest one of them all.)
For one moment, just one teeny, tiny moment, Peter kind of considers giving up. Crawling back to the Ravagers, accepting whatever punishment is his due and putting the whole mess surrounding the Stone in Yondu's capable and vastly more experienced hands.
But Yondu once thought it a good idea to trade in children – Ego's children, destined to die – and while Peter may have sort of forgiven, he never ever forgot.
…
The ensuing chase ends in the middle of nowhere, right on the border between the atmosphere of Knowhere and the emptiness of space.
It's cold out here and silent, safe except for Rocket's voice squawking in his ear.
It's almost peaceful, in a way.
Peter wonders if this is the moment he will finally be able to find out if he can die.
He stares at Gamora's face, almost peaceful so close to death and for a moment he longs to join her. To give up, to give in and simply let others worry about the fate of the universe for once, he himself quietly drifting away, hopefully forever out of his father's reach.
(Don't they both, Gamora and him, deserve some kind of peace after the lives they've lived?)
But in the end he's Peter-Starlord (He's so much more than that.) and Peter-Starlord is meant to be an outlaw and a hero and he loves life more than anything and so he contacts Yondu, gives Gamora his mask to get at least some oxygen and warmth back into her body and hopes for the best.
He's more than just Peter-Starlord, he's also Peter-the-grown-up so used to fighting for survival he can't do anything else now, he's Peter-of-Earth who can't stand the thought of losing somebody else he's come to care about, he's Peter-of-Ego who just can't take the chance that this won't kill him, just freeze him until his father picks him up…
He's also Peter-the-Celestial and that's what probably truly saves him in the end.
Because Peter-the-Celestial ignites a fire in his blood and drains his surroundings of whatever molecules he can find and changes them until he can filter the results directly through his skin into his body and keep himself alive and awake just a little bit longer that way.
Long enough for the Ravagers to pick him up.
(And boy, Yondu looks happy enough to save him, if only so that he can kill Peter himself instead…)
…
Peter is a big damn hero.
Peter is a traitor.
Peter is saved to live another day.
Peter is about to die for stealing from his crew.
Peter is really tired of this shit and would like some rest now, please.
Unfortunately that's not about to happen and after bullshitting his way out of the latest debacle (In the end, Yondu had time to cool off and is completely satisfied with simply yelling at him and who's the one getting weak now?) and gaining a small army in the process, he's now off to save Xandar with nothing but a bunch of assholes at his disposal and no idea how to go about it.
(Well, at least Rocket was thoughtful enough to return his ship to him and the Milano is still undamaged and in one piece.
Silver-linings. Gotta concentrate on the silver-linings…)
Here he is now, the walking joke, the universe's most notorious loner (Though the others could probably give him a run for his money.), suddenly in charge of a group even less well-adjusted (What a novel and frankly scary concept.) than him.
What the fuck is he supposed to do?
(The feeling, no, instinctive knowledge that somewhere out there, Ronan has freed the stone from its confinement, its miniature sun happily blazing away, just waiting to be used, doesn't help at all.)
This is so not Peter's area of expertise.
He's the man with the plan, sure. He's also great at winging it, really.
But not with a team! And not on such a scale! And not with such a short time-frame to prepare!
His usual operations are small and quiet and sleight of hand not outright warfare and more people than he himself to consider.
Get in, get out, blast any opposition and smile at anybody attractive he encounters on his way.
But now there are so many warm bodies waiting for his great idea of how they get out of this mess mostly intact and alive and that doesn't even take all the unsuspecting innocent people on Xandar into account.
So what the fuck is he supposed to do?
He's not a fighter, he's been constantly on the run for the last twenty-three years of his life, he's so not cut out for this.
(The only part of this whole mess that actually doesn't worry him at all is how to get the orb away from Yondu should Peter survive until the end.
No big deal, he's done it before.
But naturally that is what everybody else is concentrating on.
It goes downhill from there…)
But in the end, it can't be helped now, can it?
The universe has decided that this will be his lot in life and now he just has to deal with it along with everything else.
(Silver-linings, right? At least he will be a big damn hero should he be able to pull this off.)
So he tries to squash his insecurities down and pulls his natural bullshitter to the forefront.
If Peter's scared out of his mind, then the others probably aren't any better off.
That's something you are supposed to do as a leader, right?
To appear confident even when you want nothing else but to run for the hills and never stop?
Perhaps this will work just like the light once did on Ego: He wills this to work and it will happen.
And nobody else will ever have to learn that he has no idea what he's actually doing.
(A part of him would love to ask Yondu for advice but that would… kind of defeat the purpose of this meeting in the first place.)
(And Yondu would never let him hear the end of it.)
(Also, he has the slightest suspicion that even Yondu – great, all-knowing Captain Yondu – is kind of stumped on this one…)
(Just a little bit.)
Unfortunately his bluff gets called before he even has chance to follow up on it and the meeting descends into chaos.
Four vastly different personalities that are just one step removed from hating each others' guts do not a good team make.
And Peter's stuck in the middle, apparently the one guy they have all silently and collectively decided they hate the least (Probably because they all think that he's the smallest threat. If only they knew…).
Peter tries anything from cajoling to reverse-psychology to pointing out their similarities that have been glaring into his face almost right from the beginning of their little unexpected journey and that hit so close to home that even now his voice threatens to shake when speaking about it.
But it doesn't work because no matter how high the stakes, in a way they are all too used to running from their problems in one way or the other. And once you've started running, it's so incredibly hard to stop.
But not impossible.
He's thirty-three when he finally stops running and stands his ground.
…
A bunch of jackasses standing in a circle, a horde of assholes out for the paycheck of their lifetime (Yeah right, saving Xandar has nothing to do with it, no sir, not with the Ravagers, no…) and whatever local help Peter can scare up by being known as a loveable rogue instead of a straight-out psychopath, that's all that stands between Xandar and certain destruction.
They're doomed.
(But at least they will look mighty stylish going down, if he may say so himself. Silver-linings…)
Peter adds every little trick he can think of to his arsenal and gets ready to improvise like hell on the fly (He's pretty certain that against an Infinity Stone he will need every help he can get, minor god or not.). Fortunately so many things – shields, spaceships, weapons – around him are energy-based or contain energy in one way or another and everybody else around him is too keyed up (and later on too busy) to notice how charges are higher and last longer, shots hit harder and faster and how everything generally works just so much better than it actually should.
It's exhilarating and terrifying and awe-inspiring in both senses of the word all at once and Peter's so so glad that energy practically jumps to do his bidding because otherwise he probably wouldn't even last five minutes into the battle before he keeled over in complete exhaustion and most likely died.
But even with every advantage he can give them it just doesn't seem to be enough.
Until the Nova Corps shows up and turns the tide of battle.
Peter's not sure when exactly his belief in any kind of law force and higher authority died, if it was already back on Earth, suffering from constant nasty whispers and the fists of bullies, or not until later, either under Yondu's yoke, after the whole disappointment that was Ego or simply after witnessing its fail or corruption on planet after planet after planet – but right here, right now, he can feel a tiny spark of belief reignite in his chest and it warms him all the way down to his core.
The sight of hundreds of ships, of so many different people working together, ready to sacrifice themselves for one common goal, for defending innocents when nobody else will, takes his breath away.
And when he gets challenged to prove Mr. Not-impressed! – no, Denarian Saal – wrong and to be, for just this once, better than his reputation paints him, he can't help but want to rise to the occasion.
Peter pushes his ship as far as it will go, leaves the Nova Corps and all his doubts behind and accepts, once and for all, what might just be his final mission: Stop Ronan or die trying.
Even deep in the Dark Aster he can feel the Nova Corps' blockade springing to life, a shield so massive it sets his senses ablaze, even if it still pales in comparison to the sun waiting for him just a short distance away. The blockade's energy seems warm and almost sentient in a way, singing with what might be the famous Worldmind Peter has heard rumors of here and there.
It wants to protect, protect, protect Xandar and Peter can't help but add his own desire, his own strength to its glorious song and throw his will behind it.
Protect, protect, protect Xandar – and all it entails!
…
Unfortunately he's soon too busy to spare the situation outside the Dark Aster any further thought.
Between Gamora's crazy witch of a sister, Ronan's number one henchman and their multitude of minions he needs all his wits about him just to stay alive.
Rocket, Yondu and the Corps will just have to deal.
But hey, somebody finally recognized him, the great Starlord, on sight. Looks like his days as a no-name outlaw are over once and for all.
Add to that fact that his group is beginning to show the slightest signs of what he daringly may call teamwork and the day looks better and better.
(Groot will always be his favorite, though.
Especially because he's turned out to be way too scary to tell him otherwise…)
It all goes surprisingly swimmingly until the big bad finally decides to strike back – but then again, that's always the problem with endbosses, isn't it? They are always at least ten levels above everybody else in their employ.
The first sign that they are in serious trouble is a surge of energy that feels to Peter like a punch in the gut.
The shattering of the shield outside, sounding like nothing so much but an agonized shriek accompanied by the breaking of fragile – incredibly fragile – glass to his senses, serves as a horrible follow-up strike and he can't help but repeat the mantra protect, protect, protect over and over in whatever corner of his mind is still connected to its fragments.
He knocks the last goon out almost as an afterthought and comes to a halt before the door to Ronan's inner sanctum.
He can taste the Infinity Stone on the other side, beckoning to him and reveling in the destruction it has already caused, hungering for more.
But no matter how much it calls to him, no matter how desperate Rocket sounds as more and more people die in the attack on Xandar, Peter and the others are well and truly stuck, cut off from their goal by tons of metal and a force-field of the likes Peter has never seen or felt before.
For a moment Peter's almost desperate enough to throw all caution to the wind and simply go for it: Unleash his light, twist the force-field to his bidding and rip it to shreds like Ronan did with the blockade. It's not as if he hadn't lit a flare all day for his father to follow anyway. But Peter's not sure if he wouldn't overload the whole ship-wide energy grid if he tried and even if he would succeed, there would be still all that metal to consider.
(And the fear. The questions and the fear that would ultimately follow…)
But Peter's not alone anymore, he's part of a team now, and so the force-field goes down, the doors open and Gamora even manages to break through the newly unshielded ground and join them.
United at last (almost) they face Ronan –
The Hadron Enforcer doesn't even leave a dent.
(If Rocket could please put Peter's spare parts back where he found them then? Obviously he isn't doing anything useful with them after all…)
( – Peter didn't mean for him to bring the ship right over. Oi!)
Well, at least that worked…
…
Peter comes to his senses to a memory full of light – golden light this time around – and his heart aches.
(Terra, he thinks. Sweet golden Terra. Light and life and everything good in the world.
And: I want to go home, I want to go home… if I could just figure out where that is…)
He can't quite remember the last time he felt this close to weeping.
Why does he always have to lose everything before he has even fully figured out that something's there to be lost in the first place?
But the universe is a harsh place and doesn't wait for anybody's heartbreak and Ronan has one serious one-track-mind.
(For a moment, Peter wonders if maybe Ronan is another one of Ego's children.
His ability to withstand the Infinity Stone is worrying and his overall behavior down to his callous disregard for life is spot on a chip of the old block…)
(On second thought, that would make him Peter's brother and yeah, no, one megalomaniac per family is more than enough.)
(Also, ew!)
Fortunately, Rocket seems to have an idea, and given that the Milano is truly dead and gone by now, he's welcome to all the spare parts he can find as long as it works out in the end.
As for the necessary time… Well, did Peter mention that he's great at improvising?
Peter also has no shame, can say honestly and truthfully that both his parents had no shame whatsoever (though for vastly different reasons) and that really, everybody should look into getting it surgically removed somehow.
Life is so much easier that way.
Gamora could certainly benefit from the ability to not-give-a-damn, but hey, that's alright, this is Peter's show and he's fine with it.
He has made not feeling shame into a survival strategy ages ago and by now he has it down to an art-form. He's singing and dancing and being his familiar fool self, being one big distraction while the really important things happen right under his opponent's nose without him being the wiser.
This is what Peter's good at.
(For one moment he wonders if this is the secret of actual teamwork: Not everybody steadily working together towards a common goal, no, but… everybody doing their own thing and then combining it into something that ultimately works somehow.)
And in the end, Ronan stares, he snoozes and loses.
And Peter catches the Stone.
(This… might have been a mistake…)
…
Ikarus once tried to reach for the sun, Phaethon once tried to steer it's golden chariot, both failed, both fell in the end… there's nowhere for Peter to fall but into the sun itself.
Light in his fist, bright and purple, and he couldn't open his fingers again even if he wanted to.
Grit and wind and stones against his skin – doesn't matter, nothing matters but the sheer force of energy suffusing his entire being.
One touch and lightening races through his veins, igniting every single cell of his body and scorching his skin inside out. There are flames, bright purple flames swallowing his mind, his soul, leaking out of his eyes and blazing in the air with his screams.
The stars in his mind are gone, drowned out by a power so much greater than Ego could ever hope to be…
Somehow Peter gets up, pulled to his feet like a puppet on its strings, and he can feel himself breaking, cracking at the seams, bursting apart on a molecular level. Cells, nerves, veins, everything is burning, alight with pain and purple light, not starshine-bright but older, ancient, other than everything else in this universe.
Lead me, the stone sings to everybody listening. Lead me, guide me, show me the way.
It's a trap, a horrible trap, because the stone has no need for a hand to wield it, only for a conduit to connect it to more and more and more and more…
Stone and earth beneath his feet and the microbes around his shoes are burning, lighting up with excess energy, a first taste of what's about to happen and – No!
Skin crumbling like ash, eyes burnt to cinder, caught in the endless second between the agony of burning alive and the final explosion of death and Peter refuses to give in, to serve as the conduit of total devastation.
Gamora's (Mom's?) scream cuts like a knife through the pain, bringing one precious moment of clarity and this, this is a team, sharing everything, the good and the bad, bearing the load a single person can't, no matter how much it hurts, no matter the consequences, to survival, to victory and beyond.
Peter was created to be a conduit, a channel, and just this once, he doesn't mind this role at all.
…
(Tricking Yondu out of the orb? Seriously anti-climatic in comparison.)
