Quill-Udonta-Obfonteri
Peter sits on the floor in front of the couch. He can't sit on the actual couch because Cosmo has sprawled across the entire thing, and it's just criminal to move a sleeping puppy. Especially on Christmas.
He plays with his fingers, cracking them and wringing them out. He reminds himself that Yondu and Kraglin will be home soon. They promised, and they always followed through.
Peter still hates this, though.
Being alone on Christmas reminds him of his father. He'd always go out with friends on Christmas and leave Peter home. Sometimes he had a sitter. Most times, he didn't. He'd shuffle off to bed alone on the most important day for a kid and cry it out. Wondering what he did to make his dad hate him so much. Why didn't he want Peter?
Peter verbally reminds himself that his dad can never hurt him again. Saying it aloud is the only way it'll stick.
Yondu won't abandon him. He'll be home soon, he promised.
But old scars still ache, still burn after all those years. Ghosts of his past rise from the floor and take hold of him, backhanding him with the curse of remembering.
The front door opens.
"Hey, Petey. You got Polar Express pulled up 'n' ready to go?" Yondu stops in his tracks. Peter looks up at him with tear-filled eyes just about to pop.
"Ah shit. What's wrong, Pete? Kraglin! C'mere!" Yondu sets the shopping bags on the ground and kicks his shoes off. Kraglin rushes inside, barely remembering to lock the truck.
"You were gone a long time!" Pete bursts. He hiccups with each sob, a loud voice ringing in the otherwise quiet house.
"Pete, we said we was gonna be back soon. You know we wasn't gonna leave you," Yondu says with the most paternal voice he can. It's a voice that can hardly be considered warm, but it's the best he's got.
He turns to look at Kraglin, who resembles a fish out of water. He gets that way around emotions.
"Go get his thingy his ma got 'im. 'S on his dresser," Yondu orders. The younger man nods and strides down the hallway to retrieve Peter's comfort object: a music box Meredith gave him. She never met Yondu, but he feels her presence inside that little music player. Like she herself was humming the songs coming from the inside.
Once the player slides into Pete's hands, he sniffs the tears away. His breath evens out. Finally meeting Yondu's eyes, he says, "Sorry. I made it awkward."
Yondu scoffs and pats him on the back.
"Y'think a little cryin' is gonna ruin our night? Shit, Kraglin cries all the time."
"Shaddup. I ain't cried in front of you yet." Kraglin pouts. He turns away to pick the bags up and lock the door, hiding his red ears.
He cries in front of Yondu all the time. Yondu often cries too. He's much less willing to admit it, but Kraglin's used to holding him until he stops. Or awkwardly standing nearby because Yondu made it very clear that he doesn't want to be touched. And he is not above biting people for getting too close.
Once Peter's back to his motor mouth self, the three settle for the annual Polar Express viewing.
And, as Yondu looks around the dim living room, at his favourite beanpole cuddled into his side, the son he's always wanted sitting on the floor with stars in his eyes, Yondu thinks this might be perfection.