Vol. 7
Peter spent the whole trip to the prison dead asleep. So it was a bit of a shock when multiple sets of hands hauled him up. Grabbing him roughly by the clothes and forcing him to his feet. Before he had a second to protest, still feeling dazed and a bit sick, something was strapped over his mouth. Hands fumbling behind his head as whatever it was tightened, pushing at the bridge of his nose and his cheeks painfully. It took an embarrassingly long time to realize it was a muzzle. Wasn’t the drug enough? He tried to get angry and failed, he could barely keep his eyes open. So he settled with a mumbled, “I’m not a freaking dog,”.
It didn’t land, most aliens don’t know what dogs are.
Without a word they shoved him into line with the rest of the motley crew. All of them watched him stumble with slight amusement before they were ordered to start walking forward. The guards were ruff and efficient, not scared to kick a prison or point a gun at them. Peter had a feeling they weren’t bluffing when they threatened even worse violence. Once everyone was in line the guards filed them down the halls.
They were being led through the entrance ward of the Kyln when Rocket started bragging.
“I guess most of Nova Core wansta uphold the laws, but this place is corrupt and cruel,” Rocket looked up at Quill, “I bet they won’t even take that muzzle off ya,”
“What?!” Peter said, a bit of fear seeping through his drug-addled mind. Him getting hungry wouldn’t be good for anyone, drugs and muzzle or not. The second whatever they had injected him with started fading from his system everyone would be in for a hell of a time, Peter included.
“They probably want to watch ya starve after what you did to that troop of Novas a few years ago,” Rocket said, with a laugh. Peter didn’t have an adequate reply in time, “But don’t worry, you’ll be back to munchin' on person chow real soon. I’ve broken out of 22 prisons, this one’s no different,” Peter never thought he’d see a raccoon swagger.
Peter let just a little bit of hope seep in. Rocket seemed like the type to brag and to over-exaggerate, but he didn’t seem like he lied often. So, Peter believed him and started to calm down even more than whatever that drug was forcing him to.
That was until he caught a glimpse of some secretary or guard or- whatever the heck he was using. His. Walkman.
How dare he go through his stuff, how dare he listen to his tapes. His mother’s tape.
A sort of cold churn in his gut was the only true anger to make it past the barricade, but it was enough to get him to lunge into the room. He felt slow and clumsy and it really made Peter understand everything that serum had done to him. It made him understand that he had no chance in a real bout. None whatsoever. This wasn’t going to be anything like his previous stays in prison. This one was gonna be bad.
Through all these revelations he was letting his mouth do all the talking, not his brain.
He was, of course, tased.
The rest of the intake of the prison was annoying and way past ‘borderline cruel’. It was straight-up vindictive, and trust him, Peter has had a lot of scorned lovers. He knows what vindictiveness feels like. And, judging by Rocket, the guards seemed to feel this hate for not only Peter, but everyone in the whole prison.
Peter was starting to feel… worried for Gamora. What could be happening to her, yeah people really hate what Peter has done but, compared to their hate for Gamora, Peter was a nippy puppy.
Peter managed to tell himself that Gamora could take care of herself, 100% true, and tried to think of how he’d take care of himself instead.