Chapter 4
Yondu had significant experience with torture- both sides of it. As such, he knew he’d be able to make Oro talk. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. However, he really didn’t have time for that. So when he walked into the dirty room his men had rented to stash Oro in (Smart, Horuz), he cut right to the chase.
“What the fuck did you do with my boy?” he asked, punching him squarely in the face. Oro would have fallen over from the blow if he hadn’t been tied to the chair. He spat blood on the floor before giving Yondu a savage grin.
“You ain’t never gonna-” He was interrupted by Yondu starting to whistle, directing his arrow at the other man’s throat. “Go ahead, kill me. You’ll never find him if you do,” the man taunted. Yondu would have liked to work out every bit of his aggression on the other man by using his fists, but there wasn’t time for that. He’d have to settle for the slightly less personal use of his arrow.
“Oh, I’ll kill ya,” Yondu drawled, “but not yet. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be beggin’ me to kill ya.” Oro looked a little less brave at that, but he still said nothing. Yondu glared at him. He didn’t have time for this, he needed to get to Peter... He whistled again, sending the arrow clean through the other man’s leg. Oro screamed in pain. “Tell me where he is, now, and I might kill you quickly.” Oro seemed to be trying to catch his breath, but he wasn’t fast enough for Yondu’s liking, so he gave him a matching hole through the other leg. “Do I look like I’m feeling fucking patient right now?” he snarled. Oro breathed quickly, trying to speak.
“He’s... He’s in the basement of the hotel, the swanky one in the do-downtown district,” Oro gasped. “I so-sold him...” Yondu wanted to hit him again, but he needed him to keep talking.
“To who?” Yondu bellowed. “Who did you sell him to?”
“His n-name was Oc-Octavius,” Oro stammered. Yondu swore loudly. He knew that name. If he’d been worried about Peter before, now he was terrified.
“Well, Oro, you’re lucky I ain’t got time to give you what you deserve,” Yondu said, sending the arrow through his forehead, killing him instantly. He turned to his crew, who were already readying themselves to move. “Let’s go get my boy.”
The guard stayed silent as he handed Peter new clothes and a wash basin. There was a white, loose tunic and similarly fitted pants. He was given no shoes, but the guard made him remove his own. Panicked, Peter had tried to hide his Walkman, but the guard gave him a nod. He let Peter stuff it in his pocket without comment.
After that, he was led into a brightly-lit room. A few dozen well-dressed people sat in chairs facing the stage he was led on. When he looked closer, Peter saw that they were all holding some sort of sign. Placards, his brain supplied. He was at an auction- an auction where people were going to be bidding on him.
He forced himself to calm down. Yondu would come for him soon. He and the rest of the Ravagers were probably already on their way. The man from earlier was standing on the stage, and he grabbed a mic.
“Ladies and gentleman, as you can see here, we have a fine Terran specimen. He is in peak physical condition, approximately eight years old-” Peter snorted. He couldn’t help it, he was definitely not eight. The other man didn’t seem amused at being interrupted. “Quiet, brat,” he hissed, slapping Peter across the face. Peter was stunned by the blow- he truly hadn’t seen it coming, though he probably should have. He nearly fell over, but the man’s hand yanked his collar to keep him upright. “Forgive the interruption; the boy is young. However, his teeth are in excellent condition-” Here he squeezed Peter’s jaw, forcing him to open his mouth.
“Perhaps we could hear the boy speak,” one woman from the audience suggested. The man with the jacket gave Peter a rough shake.
“Go on, boy.” Peter bristled at the name. No one called him ‘boy’ but Yondu.
“My name is Peter Quill. I’m thirteen years old, by the way. And my dad’s gonna kick your ass.” The bidders started muttering to themselves as the auctioneer raised his hand to mete out punishment. Peter winced, squeezing his eyes closed.
“You’ll lower that hand if’n you know what’s good for ya,” A familiar voice drawled.
“Dad!” Peter yelled in relief. Yondu began whistling, sending his arrow straight towards the auctioneers throat. Strangely, the man grinned.
“Yondu Udonta. Is that really you?” he asked in a mocking tone. “You’ve grown since I’ve last seen you, but you’re still the frightened, weak child you were all those years ago.” Yondu ignored him, motioning for Peter to join him. Quickly, the auctioneer grabbed Peter and shoved a blaster against his throat.
“Let me go!” Peter demanded, struggling in vain.
“Put him down, Octavius. Now,” Yondu growled.
“I don’t think I will. In fact, I think you’ll let the two of us walk out of here, unharmed. Otherwise, my clumsy finger might slip and fire this blaster, mightn’t it?” Yondu was clearly torn. There was no way he was letting Peter leave, but he couldn’t simply run the man through, either. Peter decided to make the decision for him.
Taking a cue from his toddler years, he craned his neck and bit the man on the arm, hard.
“Filthy brat!” Octavius snarled, shaking his hand out. He made to strike Peter, but Yondu had already sent the arrow through him. He was dead before he hit the floor.
“Peter, are you all right?” Yondu asked urgently, running towards the boy. The rest of the Ravagers began to take subdue the bidders- not that they gave much fight.
“I’m fine, Dad.” Yondu frowned as he gave the kid a once-over. Between Oro and Octavius, Peter had an impressive collection of bruises. He pulled Peter into a tight hug.
“Thought I’d lost you, boy,” he muttered. Peter gasped at the pressure against his back. “What?” Without waiting for an answer, Yondu tugged his shirttail up to examine him. He drew in a sharp breath. “What the flark happened to you, boy?” The bruises were a mottled blue green- clearly they were from before Peter was taken.
“Now ain’t really the time, is it?” Peter mumbled.
“We’re discussing this later,” Yondu said sternly. Peter nodded tiredly into his shoulder. Yondu gave him a moment, then stood up, pulling Peter with him. He lifted Peter into his arms- the kid clearly was in no shape to walk. Peter was tired enough that he didn’t protest being carried- that’s how Yondu knew something was wrong.
Yondu had to settle him onto his hip like a child to avoid putting pressure on the bruises on Peter's back, which Peter rolled his eyes at. Still, the kid was tired enough that he wasn't complaining.
“They’re tying them up,” Peter noted in amazement. Yondu had a thing against killing in front of Peter- he only did it when absolutely necessary. Still, Peter had kind of expected Yondu to take him outside and then let the Ravagers burn the place to the ground. Yondu shrugged.
“Tipped off the Nova Corp to a trafficking situation here. They’ll be here to arrest the participants soon- don’t hurt that we get a nice little reward for turning them in.” Peter laughed a little at that. Something would be wrong if his dad didn’t find some way to profit out of all this- once he knew that Peter was safe, that was. Peter might have been offended, but he knew it was just Yondu’s weird way of trying to respect Peter’s wishes, even if he was profiting from it. Peter always looked for the outcomes with as little loss of life as possible.
Peter thought of the guard who had been kind to him- well, sort of kind. He hadn’t hurt him, and he’d looked like he might be considering letting Peter go...
When he voiced these thoughts to Yondu, the older man’s face darkened. “It don’t matter, Pete,” he said unsympathetically. “He was a part of it. He let it happen.”
“He said they wanted me as some sort of pet,” Peter said in a small voice. Yondu’s arm tightened around him.
“I’d never let that happen,” he promised.
“Dad?” Peter asked after a moment.
“Yes son?” he said patiently.
“How did that man Octavius know you?” Yondu sighed.
“When I was about your age, a group of Kree invaded my village. Killed my parents, and kidnapped me to sell me for a battle slave. That man, Octavius... he was the auctioneer that sold me.” Peter looked at him in shock. He knew Yondu didn’t like to talk about his childhood, but he had no idea his dad had been a slave.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. Yondu nodded.
“Yeah, me too.” They stayed silent until they got back to the Eclector. Kraglin was there waiting for them.
“Pete!” he shouted joyfully, running to meet them. He made to give Peter a giant hug, but Yondu warned him to be gentle. Kraglin settled for ruffling his hair.
“He’s got bruises on his back. Not sure what from, though,” he said, narrowing his eyes at Peter. Peter glared back.
“Geez, Dad. I’m clearly traumatized right now. You're making me relive my trauma,” he said with a pout. Kraglin made to thump him on the head, then thought better of it and just hugged him, very gently.
“Little brat. We were all so worried about you,” he said seriously. Peter sighed.
“I know, Krag.” Yondu patted Kraglin on the shoulder and tugged on Peter’s hand.
“Let’s get you to the Med Bay.” Peter slipped his hand into his father’s and let himself be led across the ship. Yondu motioned for Doc to leave. He knew enough about medicine to treat Peter’s bruises. Peter hopped up on the hospital bed that he’d long ago deemed his own. Sadly, he had a little too much experience in this room. Yondu took out a scanner, and Peter groaned.
“Dad, I’m fine. Just got a few bruises,” he protested.
“Yeah, well you ain’t said jack about those bruises, so forgive me if I don’t trust you to tell me if you’re hurt.” Peter looked stung by that remark.
“Thanks, Dad, that’s exactly what I needed to hear after the day I’ve had,” Peter snapped, angrily swiping a tear from his eye.
“Pete,” Yondu trailed off, setting down the scanner. He’d said the wrong thing; he realized that much. “I didn’t mean I don’t trust you. It’s just...” He sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of that today. “I'm worried about you, Pete. Was Oro hurting you?” Peter looked away silently before giving a short, jerky nod. “How long?” Peter shrugged.
“Couple weeks, maybe. Wasn’t too bad. Shoved me a few times. He only hit me the once. Well, twice, I guess, when he knocked me out.” Yondu closed his eyes in anguish. How could he have missed it?
“So when you said you tripped over your boots...”
“Yeah.”
“Why, Peter?” Yondu asked, a touch of anger coloring his tone. Peter shrugged again.
“I think he was bitter I have my own room.” Yondu rolled his eyes.
“No, you brat, I meant why didn’t you tell us? The moment you said something, I’da had him gone.”
“I know that,” Peter said irritably.
“Then why stay quiet? Why let him get away with hurting you?”
“I don’t know!” Peter shouted, tears running down his face. “I don’t know. At first I thought it wasn’t a big deal, he just didn’t like me. Then I thought I could make him stop, and he did stop for a while- I didn’t know he planned on selling me.”
“Peter,” Yondu said in a pained voice. “Why would you feel like you needed to deal with that all on your own?”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” he said impatiently. “I shouldn’t need your help for everything.”
“Well, you’re my kid,” Yondu said firmly. “I don’t care how old you are, if you need help, you come to me. Got it?” Peter nodded wearily. “And if you don’t think you can talk to me, you go to Kraglin. Or Tullk. Or Horuz, the fuckin' idiot. Point is, kid, you got a lotta people in your corner.” Peter nodded.
“Yeah, I know. And I’m grateful for that, honestly I am, but I shouldn’t need your help. I shoulda been able to make him quit after the first time,” Peter protested.
“I don’t know why you feel the need to prove yourself, son,” Yondu said with a sigh. “You’re a good kid. You’re well-liked, and respected. You ain’t got nothing to prove.” Peter squirmed at the praise.
“Thanks,” he muttered. Yondu sat next to him awkwardly. Usually, Peter required serious cuddles for emotional conversations like these, but Yondu had kept his distance while the kid was mad at him. “Give me a hug,” Peter demanded suddenly, in the same way he’d done as a toddler.
“’Give me a hug,’ the boy says. Who’s the Captain on this ship, anyway?” Yondu mock-grumbled, but he pulled Peter onto his lap, anyway.
“What did you do to him, anyway?” Peter asked curiously. Yondu knew he meant Oro.
“You want to know?” he asked seriously. Most kids were sensitive to violence and death, but Peter was even more so- a strange trait for a kid raised on a Ravager ship.
“Is he gone?” Peter asked hesitantly. Yondu nodded.
“He’s gone.” Yondu very pointedly did not tell Peter the details of the confrontation. Peter nodded- a little unnerved but mostly relieved. They sat there in silence for a few seconds, and it occurred to Yondu that he had one more thing he needed to say.
“I love you, son,” Yondu said strongly. “You know that, right?” Peter grinned. The older man must have really been worried about him; he was rarely so emotional, especially without prodding.
“I love you too, Dad.”
The next day, after the healing balm had started to work and Peter’s bruises had faded a bit, Kraglin nonchalantly pulled Peter into a fierce hug. Peter was surprised not only by the action, but by the fact that Kraglin was hugging him on the bridge. He probably hadn’t wanted anyone to notice, but Peter decided that was just too bad.
“Dad,” he said slowly, turning to the Captain’s chair. “Dad, I think you’re going to have to throw Kraglin in the brig!”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Yondu asked, his voice full of mirth.
“Why, I think he’s been drinking on shift! He never hugs me if he’s sober!”
“You little shit!” Kraglin exclaimed, though he didn’t push Peter away. “See if I ever do anything for you again!” Peter ignored that comment and leaned his head on his shoulder.
“I love you, Kraglin,” he said sweetly. Horuz coughed. Kraglin rolled his eyes.
“Kraglin. Kid said he loves you,” Tullk chided laughingly. “Ain’t you gonna say it back?”
“Love you too, you brat,” Kraglin muttered. Peter laughed hysterically when he heard the flash of a camera. He didn’t care who saw him hugging his exasperating big brother.
“Ya’ll’re just too sweet,” Yondu said with a devilish grin. Peter smiled as Kraglin groaned good-naturedly and pretended to be irritated. He was glad to be back home.