A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's read this so far. I've figured out that this story should be ten chapters long if all goes as planned, but that may change at some point. For now though, I hope you enjoy this second chapter!
It takes three months for Peter's continued presence to become a problem.
This isn't his fault per se. The boy does his chores under Kraglin's watchful eye, albeit reluctantly, and his emergence into the mess hall covered in oil and grime every night seems to assure the crew that he's earning his keep. Peter's also calmed recently, responding to antagonism by walking in the other direction rather than charging at the culprit headfirst with all limbs flailing. Most of his free time is spent listening to that beloved device of his and ignoring everything around him, and the best thing about his isolation is that Yondu doesn't have to put up with him. Peter will shadow Kraglin or Tullk on occasion, but otherwise he seems to be a lone wolf and that suits everyone just fine.
So no; the kid isn't the problem.
The growing pain in Yondu's ass is that news of their charge has reached unsavoury ears. For the last month, he's had to ward off propositions from more traders than he can count, each offering something valuable in exchange for the boy. Some of the more daring among them will even threaten to attack the Eclector and kidnap Peter themselves if Yondu doesn't comply.
He imagines he can blame this on Ego – apparently, he's now offering twice what Yondu was promised for Peter's safe return - and for the most part he laughs off the calls without fear of reprisals. The fact that everyone seems to know they're harbouring one of the most valuable children in the galaxy is concerning, however. People will do anything for money, and his efforts to keep both Peter and his crew safe may be in jeopardy if their situation continues to escalate.
The tipping point is when an old friend - if Yondu can call him that - gets in touch.
Murlainn is a crook through and through, motivated by units and little else, but he and Yondu have shared enough ales in the past to have built something of a rapport. Though Yondu would never say he likes the Xandarian, he tolerates him well enough which is more than he can say for most. It's surprising, however, to see his details flash across the holoscreen four whole months after Stakar cut Yondu loose. As far as he was aware, Murlainn's crew were still loyal to Ogord and followed the code as piously as one would expect, but then, it's hardly like Yondu has been paying attention to the inner workings of the Ravagers as of late.
With only the slightest hesitation, he answers Murlainn's call and tries to appear accommodating when the man's weathered face appears onscreen. He's someone who might once have been handsome before acquiring a series of ugly scars. There's a gash across his grizzled cheek from either a knife or a claw, and his hair has prematurely faded to grey. Murlainn's appearance has the desired effect of making him look intimidating, however; not even his welcoming smile at the sight of Yondu enough to eliminate the menace lurking in dark eyes.
"Udonta!" Murlainn exclaims with a grin; his chipped, yellowing teeth erasing any hint of the handsome man he once was. "It's been some time."
"Not long enough," Yondu replies, only half-joking as he leans back in his chair. He doesn't smile back – hasn't had the energy to smile in months – and his cool welcome doesn't go unnoticed. Murlainn's grin wavers, just enough to chip away the faux-cheer from his face, and the sight of that at least has a smirk pulling at Yondu's lips. "What's been happenin' on your end?"
"We've 'ad it similar to you lot," Murlainn responds with a shrug. "Cut ties with Stakar, good riddance to 'im. Man woulda denied us the best deal goin' in the entire galaxy for the sake of 'is code, so I told him where 'e could stick it."
Yondu ignores the discomfort settling in his gut at the man's words. So, he too has broken ties with Ogord. By the sound of it, he and his crew had done so willingly rather than being forced into exile, and both Murlainn's words and the timing of his call suggest that their new employer is a certain jackass of a planet. That Ego has managed to sway yet more people with his charm and handsome rewards is less surprising than Yondu would like, but it does leave him with a problem.
A pint-sized, Terran problem.
"I don' see what that has to do with me," he lies, and the shit-eating grin that returns to Murlainn's face confirms that his words fool no-one.
"I think you know exactly what it 'as to do with you," the captain responds harshly, his mouth twisting into a sneer that only serves to highlight the gnarly scar on his cheek. "But I aim to be civil. I'm callin' to offer a deal of sorts. Ego wants something you 'ave, and he's offerin' a lot of money to get it back. What do you say we team up and share the reward? I'm sure you must want the runt out o' yer hands after all this time."
Yondu breaks into a laugh before he can stop himself, and something claw-like twists in his heart when his companion joins in. It's disturbing how close Murlainn has come to the truth, though Yondu's plan to get rid of Peter tends to involve taking him as far away from Ego as possible. Perhaps before, when he was blissfully ignorant of the celestial's atrocities, he might have been able to see the benefits of such an offer but now it simply makes him want to punch the screen.
"Ego's fathered bastards all over the galaxy," he says eventually, once his bitter laugh has subsided and he's returned to hiding his unease behind a smirk. "Why don' you concern yerself with finding someone else and forgetting 'bout some dumb Terran?"
"There ain't anyone else," Murlainn responds, the slightest hint of impatience slipping into his tone. It might not be long before he unleashes a flood of insults in his annoyance. The only reason Yondu doesn't hang up there and then is because, out of all those who've spent the last month badgering him, Murlainn is probably the only one who could cause his crew serious harm if he wanted to.
He's so caught up in his musings that he almost misses Murlainn's utterance of, "At least no-one worth ten million units."
Much as Yondu tries, he can't hide his surprise. As a single eyebrow rises in response to the news, Murlainn's grin returns as though taking that small sign as proof that he's swaying Yondu to his cause.
When Ego commissioned Yondu to pick Peter up from Terra his offer had been the typical five hundred-thousand units, and he hadn't given any indication that this child was more valuable than the rest. Even the rumours of Ego doubling his price to a million had seemed steep, and Yondu's forced to resist a laugh at the notion of him offering ten times that. Perhaps Murlainn simply misheard the celestial, though he doesn't seem idiotic enough to have done so and such an outrageous reward would certainly explain the attention Yondu has received recently.
Much as he hates himself for admitting it, he knows that he too might have abandoned what little morals he has and chased such an offer himself once.
"Point is, we'd have to deliver twenty children just to match the value of that one 'dumb Terran'," Murlainn continues, and something dark in his tone suggests he'd probably have as little qualms about sacrificing twenty kids as he does just one. "Yer sittin' on a goldmine, Yondu. We can help each other out. Ego ain't happy with you for takin' what's his, but I could talk 'im round and work out a deal for the both of us. We go through with this, we'll both be rich enough that we don' have to take another job for years. What do you say?"
Yondu wonders when exactly his life was reduced to negotiating the value of children with fellow lowlifes. His first twenty years had contained horrors he'd rather forget, but his liberation at the hands of Stakar was supposed to erase that and prove he could be better than what his masters moulded him into. And yet, offering a man who grew up with nothing the opportunity to get whatever he wanted had probably done more harm than good, helping nurture a greed that Yondu will never be able to redeem himself for.
Despite knowing Ego's money is blood-soaked, every unit they earned from him still rests in a vault waiting to be spent, and their 'rescue' of Peter has only caused him further misery after losing his mother. The truth is, Yondu is not a good man and Murlainn knows it. The whole damn galaxy knows it, which is why everyone's so sure they can convince him to trade another child's life for countless riches.
It's a good thing he's also made a habit of disappointing people.
"Here's the thing," Yondu starts, drumming his fingers on the console to appear as disinterested as possible. The lies he's about to spill will need to be effortless. "I weren't plannin' on telling anyone this, but seeing as we go way back I figure you might as well know. I reckon you've been tellin' yerself that I haven't returned the boy to his daddy 'cause I been goin' soft – don't interrupt now, I know that's what ya thought."
"The thing is, though, we ain't been able to deliver him cause he's dead."
Yondu glances upwards just long enough to see a mix of shock and fury cross the other captain's face before continuing.
"We 'ad an outbreak of fever a few weeks back and the kid got sick. The Doc tried his best to help, but it turns out Terrans are as breakable as they say and we lost him. I think ya can understand why we weren't in a hurry to tell Ego that now, considerin' his payment relies on the kids bein' in one piece."
The news seems to take a while to sink in, and Yondu watches as Murlainn's mouth opens and closes with no words coming forth. His fury seems to have subsided a little – or at least Yondu has stopped being the target of it – only for grief over the loss of all those units to replace it. One could almost feel sorry for him, if his motivations weren't so sickening.
"He weren't all Terran, though," Murlainn mutters, seemingly to himself, and Yondu responds with a sympathetic shrug.
"Being Ego's kid didn't save the others either," he points out, trying not to despise himself further for the ease with which the words come forth. "If anythin' it looks like the fever jus' did his work for him."
"Aye, only it denied us millions in the process," Murlainn says, his bitterness palpable through the screen.
Yondu's still not sure why Ego has attached so much worth to Peter, and that uncertainty coils within his gut. The man sees his children as disposable if the rumours are true, yet instead of discarding his son once it became clear Yondu would never hand him over, he raised his price to outrageous levels.
It doesn't bode well for the boy's safety, wherever he ends up.
The conversation ends blessedly quickly after that. Yondu shoots down any attempts on Murlainn's part to reunite for drinks on the pretence that he has business to attend to, and ends up cutting the call midway through a prolonged farewell. As soon as silence fills the room, he releases a breath and rubs at his forehead to ease some of the tension building there. His lie may end up causing more problems than it solves and people will only believe it for so long, but it's difficult to care about that now.
It's been a long time since it was easy to care about anything.
Without even thinking, Yondu brings up the security footage and his attention lands on Peter with surprising ease. The boy's caught in a fitful sleep, tossing and turning with his body half-buried in the sheets, but he's safe and alive and that's all that matters.
Keeping him that way promises to be the difficult part.