WARNING: In this chapter, you see evidence of physical child abuse.

"What in Quadrailia did you do, boy?" Yondu put his hands on his hips and stared Peter down, scanning the split lip and bruised face with more than a little disapproval in his eyes. "You were fightin' with the boys again, weren't you?"

Peter sniffed away some of the blood and wiped the rest on his shoulder. "They killed a little mowlett while it was tryin' to run back to its mama."

Yondu reached out and smacked him on the back of the head. "Boy, if I told you once, I told you a thousand times: them lil' rascals build nests in the engines that cause a whole slew o' problems."

"But they didn't have to kill it!" Peter stomped his foot, wincing as soon as it made contact with the floor. "It was just a little baby. It didn't hurt nothin', it was just hungry. It couldn't make a nest even if it wanted to."

Yondu pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh, shaking his head. "You're too soft, boy." Crouching down, he met the boy's gaze and wagged a crooked finger in his face. "Now, you listen to me. You're gonna clean up and get back to work, and if you see any other mowletts runnin' around, you're gonna get rid of'em n' keep your thoughts to yourself."

"But—"

"No buts, 'cept yours, which better be back to work before I count to three, or it's gonna be awful sore." Yondu stood up and extended a finger in the direction of the mess hall. "One."

Peter stood there, glaring, just long enough to satisfy his impish desire to defy the captain. Then he turned and stormed away, little fists shaking at his side, right foot stomping while the left one barely touched down.

He ain't gonna kill one, but if I'm lucky, he'll stop fighting with the boys over it.

Yondu wasn't a lucky person. He never had been, so he couldn't say he was all that surprised when he caught Peter with a mowlett less than forty-eight hours after he told the boy to kill them. No, he wasn't surprised at all, but he was angry. Livid, actually. In fact, the only reason he didn't burst into the room screaming orders and threats at the top of his lungs was because Peter pulled off his shirt.

"C'mere, lil' guy." Peter wrapped the little feline in the fabric and then set it on top of his bed. "I snitched some food from the mess hall, and I got you a little bit of milk, too."

Peter crouched down in front of the bed, folding one arm on the mattress and leaning forward with a quiet hiss of pain, and Yondu could imagine why. Peter was more purple than tan, his small body covered with the telltale bruises of a good, old-fashioned Ravager brawl. His lip had two new cuts in it, his fists were scraped and bloody, and his arm was hanging uselessly at his side.

"Now, listen up." Peter wagged his finger in the mowlett's face. "You can't stay here. We're gonna dock on a planet in two days, and when we do, you gotta get lost."

It meowed back at him, its one front leg hanging out of the wrapped shirt, limp in the same way Peter's was.

"I'll find ya' some place to stay. Don't you worry, lil' guy."

Yondu took a step back when he saw Peter move, hiding himself behind the door and listening to what happened next. He heard his youngest crew member grunt and struggle to his feet, taking no more than two steps before collapsing again.

The mowlett mewed again.

"No, I'm okay. I'm a Ravager. I gotta get tough, or they'll kill me for sure. I just gotta…" There was another attempt made, and then Peter's voice came again. "Yondu's gonna kill me if he finds you here. I need help, but I can't let him know how bad I need it. Maybe I can strike a deal?"

Yondu almost laughed out loud. Not a chance, kid.

"No, Yondu doesn't make deals with crew members. I could ask Kraglin, but it'll get back to Yondu, 'cause Kraglin tells him everything. But if Yondu sees me all beat up, he'll put two and two together and realize I've been fighting with the boys about them killing you guys. He's smart like that."

Yondu smirked, putting a hand on his hip and feeling the anger rush out of him.

"I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know what's wrong, but it's not right." Peter sighed, the exhale evolving into a whimper. "Do you think I could tough it out?"

The mowlett keened at him, high-pitched and weak.

"I guess I have to. If I wanna keep you safe, I can't let anybody know you're here. I gotta do my chores, too, or they'll throw me into space. Gokkin said so."

Silence.

"Aww, geeze, I'm talkin' to a cat!"

Yondu frowned slightly, taking a moment to wonder what a cat was before he turned his thoughts to more pressing matters. I really oughta tan his backside for this. He knew he wouldn't, of course, but he really should have.

"Peter, open the door, and don't even try to hide that vermin you got wrapped in your shirt." Yondu waited, and while he heard Peter get to his feet, the door didn't open. "Peter, you alright?"

"Y-yeah…" Peter barely got the words out, and it sounded like he was trying to walk toward the door, but then he came to a stop. "M… maybe not…"

Yondu pushed the door in and saw Peter leaning heavily against the wall, eyes glassy and face flushed. Up close, Yondu could see Peter's arm was swollen and red, and the fact that Peter hadn't been able to move it made him think it was broken. He could also see the way Peter's bruises dipped below his waistband in various spots, meaning there was more tissue damage to uncover.

"Boy…" Yondu put his hands on his hips and sighed, shaking his head slowly. "What did you do?"

Factually, he knew what Peter did, and Peter knew that he knew. But that wasn't what he was asking, and Peter knew that, too.

"I… I'm sorry. I didn't listen."

Yondu snorted. "I can see that."

Peter winced, grabbing his arm in pain only to let it go immediately. "Yondu, I—I think I did something really bad."

"I can see that, too." Yondu shut the door and stepped closer, crouching down and taking the arm in his hand. "Look at you. You're all kinds of banged up."

Peter yelped, but he didn't resist. "Are you—are you gonna belt me?"

Yondu glared at him. "I should, seein' as you did exactly what I told y'not to." He let his hand hover over the limb, but there was no heat. "You broke your arm."

"I… I kinda thought maybe that was it." Peter squirmed where he stood. "Please, don't be mad."

Yondu gave him a sharp look. "Don't you tell me not to be mad when one of my boys doesn't know how to follow orders." He glared long enough to make Peter shrink back, and then he turned his attention to the limb in his hand. "Come on. I'm takin' you down to the med bay."

"But—" Peter seemed more afraid of that than Yondu himself, and that didn't sit well with the captain. "But… if they know about my arm… they'll know they won."

Yondu arched a brow. "Wha'sat?"

Peter looked at his arm and then at Yondu again. "I got up from the fight, and I walked away, and I didn't cry or moan or anything. If I go to the med bay…" His features twisted up, something like a glare narrowing his eyes. "And they'll think you've gone soft."

Yondu rankled at that, bothered in more ways than one. "Don't you worry about me, boy. I'll set them slags straight in my own good way, and don't you worry 'bout yourself, neither." He gestured to the broken arm. "They find out this is how bad you were hurt, and they know you still walked away with your head high, they'll respect you. It's easy to walk away when you're feelin' fine; it's hard to walk away when you're hurt—and you're plenty hurt, Peter."

Peter frowned slightly, looking down at himself for a long moment before speaking. "So, other than the part where I didn't listen, I did good?"

There was a second of pause, and then Yondu smiled proudly. "Yeah. You did good, kid. You're growin' into a Ravager to be reckoned with."

Peter grinned widely. "Yeah, and I'll keep gettin' better! I'll be unstoppable!"

Yondu smirked and let out a snort. "Ya' might wanna get this arm taken care of first, hotshot." Standing up, he placed one hand on Peter's good shoulder and urged him toward the door.

"Wait!" Peter turned his head to look back at his bed. "What about the mowlett? Can I keep it until we get to the dock? I'll get rid of it when we land, I promise."

Yondu laughed out loud, pulling Peter into the hall. "I don't think so, kid. You're gonna keep that little critter, and you're gonna put up with the mess n' the smell n' the hassle 'til you start to understand why you can't help every rodent that crawls across your path."

Peter didn't respond with any sort of dread, but rather, he lit up with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "I can have a pet?"

"What on Centaur IV is a pet?"

Peter laughed out loud, his joy interrupted only by a hiss of pain, but he offered no explanation. Yondu stared, wondering if he had just made a terrible mistake. Then again, Peter had been a mistake from the very beginning—a play-it-by-ear-and-hope-the-universe-doesn't-implode mistake—and Yondu had enjoyed almost every step of the journey. Besides, mowletts didn't live more than a few years, so hopefully, the idea of a 'pet' would just be another step on that journey.

Hopefully.