captainpoppins (captainpoppins) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2020-01-08 21:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | peter quill (star-lord), yondu udonta |
Who: Yondu and Peter
When: Sometime in December
Where: The Quadrant, in space
What: Workin’ on Yondu’s spacecraft, deciding on what to namer her
Rating/Warnings: Medium for swearing
Status: Complete
Yondu frowned at the wires above him as he lay beneath his M Ship, picking precariously as if diffusing a bomb. The ship had been acting up a bit and he was determined to figure out why. The docking bay of the Quadrant was vast and empty with just the one ship in it. He hoped the dreams would bring more ships like Peter's Milano or one of the other M Ships he usually kept parked here in the dreams. Then Anakin could use one for himself instead of Yondu's. Not that he would ever let Peter know he'd let the kid use his ship ahead of him.
Music was playing over the ship's speakers, a steady stream of 80s rock peppered with country music from his own personal playlist. Yondu growled along to AC/DC's "You Shook Me All Night Long" as he struggled with the wires, cussing to himself every now and then.
“Hey, look at you,” Peter called out, coming into the garage. “You get old and you suddenly get a taste in music. Who knew!” Now if only Peter could get Yondu to like Manilow … in all truth, it wasn’t that Barry Manilow was his favourite -- it was just his favourite artist to torture Yondu with. There was a distinction there that was important.
With Yondu’s new job, they hadn’t really spent much time together which previously would have probably been excellent … well okay, it still was. It made it easier to sneak Wanda into the house but he actually missed Yondu enough that when the older man mentioned he was going to work on the ship, Peter handed off a job to Snart so that Peter could go and help out too. Besides, the more that his dreams played, the more he remembered how skillful he was and how much fun it was to do these things.
He kinda wanted to make a bomb.
“What’re you working on now? Can I help?” Peter picked up a tool and grinned. “I’m going to help. You’re probably doing it wrong anyways.”
"Doin' it wrong?? Boy, I'm the one what taught you how to fix an' fly these things in the first place!" Yondu barked from beneath the belly of the ship. Frustrated, he sighed and pushed himself out from under it with the rolling trolly he was laying on. "But hell, be my guest." He got up and gestured for Peter to give it a go. While most of the circuitry that needed to be accessed was on the inside of the ship this particular problem of course had to be on the outside.
The song ended and the speakers spouted the familiar twang of classic country music. George Jones' voice started singing the first line to "I Don't Need Your Rocking Chair".
Yondu had to admit he was glad Peter was here with him. It was like old times in the dreams, working on stuff, having Terran music over the speakers.
Peter made a face. While he liked all music, he hated country with a passion. "This song morally offends me to my core and I'm instantly embarrassed to be your kid." Laying down on the trolley, he rolled under and made a tsk sound.
"It's like this is from outer space or something," he called out, his eyes flitting around the exposed panel. It wasn't going to be easy to fix the shielding, especially since the parts weren't found on Earth. This would take some thinking. "Oh and hey, speaking of space, why the fuck do you hate Nebula so much?"
There was never much tact with Peter.
He rolled out and tilted his head at Yondu. "I mean, sure, she's fucking annoying and the cause of a lot of stress but she's basically harmless...okay, maybe not harmless but she doesn't hate you….wait, she hates everyone…." Peter threw up his arms in defeat. "So she's a terrible human being cyborg thing...but why do YOU hate her?"
"Morally offended? Boy do you even understand what you're sayin'? You grew up in the Midwest! How n'the hell did you not grow some sorta appreciation for country music? And I'll have you know George Jones is one of the great legends." He did smile a little (on the inside), though, when Peter easily called himself Yondu's kid.
When Peter started dropping F-Bombs Yondu scowled. As much as they both swore like Marines, the F word for some reason was one he wasn't particularly fond of. Maybe he'd heard it one too many times in the Corps. Maybe he just didn't like Peter using them like they were a regular part of everyday language. Maybe he really was getting old.
"Hey!" He barked as Peter rolled out from under the ship and asked about Nebula. "Enough with the F-Bombs. Talk like you got some sense of bein' civil or some shit."
Then he was silent, working his jaw a little and looking away from Peter. He picked up a tennis ball and tossed it. Kraglin, who had been sleeping nearby, picked up his head and looked at it, then at Yondu, and slowly got up and trotted after the ball. Yondu didn't want to talk about it, but he knew Peter would pester him to death if he didn't.
"She helped Taserface take over my ship. Watched as half the crew killed the other half…" He frowned and his expression fell a moment. "Made me watch as they flushed 'em outta the airlock, beggin' for their lives." Begging him specifically. It still haunted him.
Peter made an ‘O’ with his mouth but he couldn’t find it in him to actually say anything.
Holy. Shit.
Was THAT what happened after he was on Ego’s planet? Why had Rocket never said anything about this? This seemed like something significant that should have been discussed and yet? Nope. In all honesty though, had Peter even had a chance to talk to Rocket about it? Or better yet -- had Peter even wanted to talk about it? Probably not. Anything to do with Yondu had gone into the same compartment as his mother: verboten. No speaky about it. Nada.
Peter was now feeling an emotion he rarely felt: guilty.
“Well….. shit . That’s uh … wow. I …. Wow. I didn’t know. That’s fucked… no wonder you hate her. Um...sorry? For springing her on you then? Because I didn’t know?”
A pause.
“And now I really hate that I was going to ask you where you got your image changer thing because now she’s blue and cyborgy and has to deal with real life looking like ...her.”
Forgiveness was not Yondu's strong suit. Just ask Taserface. Well, if he hadn't been blown up in a million pieces in the depths of space, anyway, one could have asked him.
Yondu visibly bristled and his red eyes flashed over at Peter.
"She can fuckin' deal with it her damn self. That heartless she-demon ain't gettin' squat from me." He still wasn't certain why he hadn't shot her through a dozen times in the dreams when they were fighting Ego. Maybe because they were busy fighting Ego. Still, a quick whistle and it would have just been part of the chaos.
Oh well, just add that to the pile of lost opportunities.
Kraglin came bounding back with the ball, now fully awake. Yondu ruffled the dog's head and pulled the ball from his mouth, tossing it again. It sailed clear across, almost hitting the far wall. His alien physique gave him pretty impressive strength versus a human, especially one of his age. He couldn't lift cars like Jessica could, but if it came to a fistfight or lifting certain heavy things one would want to steer clear.
"Why in th'hell you care about her so much? She's one a Thanos' kids. I get the whole Gamora thing, believe you me, but Nebula? The hell your head at, boy?"
Peter didn’t have an immediate answer for Yondu because what Yondu said made sense.
Why did Peter care so much?
Those stupid dreams were filling him with nostsalgia, with all sorts of emotions. He could still remember the panicked look on Nebula’s face, the anxiety in searching for Gamora together. To working together on that godforsaken planet to kill the mad Titan.
“She loves Gamora,” was Peter’s response. “And in my dreams, I do too. She’s a total c-word, has no sense of humour, and would stab me happily but because of her sister, she doesn’t.” He gave a shrug. “I gotta respect that. Family is everything, and you don’t really get to pick it. Well. You do. But you don’t. You know what I mean?”
That would be a miracle since Peter didn’t even know what he was saying.
“Doesn’t matter anyways. If you don’t like her, you don’t like her and that’s fine. Just don’t start telling me who I can and can’t hang out with, Dad .”
Yondu huffed, and the slightest of smiles graced his lips. He was in agreement with Peter there - in their experience you did and didn't pick your family - it was the weird paradox of being a Ravager. And yes, family was everything.
His voice got a bit halting as he registered Peter calling him Dad. They were still testing the waters there, dipping their toes in the shallow end. "Yeah well...jus' don't bring her 'round the house or the ship. I ain’t makin’ any guarantees she’ll survive."
Peter made a face, oblivious to how Yondu reacted to “Dad”. “The only girl I bring to the house is Wanda, and you haven’t killed her yet so I’m going to assume that means I’m allowed and keep doing it...which I would have done anyways and am going to keep doing, so really this conversation is stupid.”
He crossed his arms and pouted slightly petulantly before brightening up and throwing himself heavily on the spare chair. “Hey! Did you name this ship yet? Can I name it? I wanna call it Bob. It feels like a Bob to me. Bobbing in space. Bob. I like it. Let’s do it.”
"We aint namin' the ship Bob!" Yondu blurted, suddenly irritated. He swiped at Peter's head, purposefully missing. "Don't you remember anything I taught you, boy? Ship names are always female." It had befuddled him in the dreams when upon teaching Peter this as a kid, he'd named his ship the Milano after the actress Alisa Milano. Terran names had always sounded so plain to him. But at least it had followed the tradition.
Strangely, in the dreams Yondu hadn't named his ship, the one they were talking about now. It was odd come to think of it, but the best justification he could think of was he had been such an active playboy scoundrel that he didn't have a favorite female lover.
This was true, Peter could vaguely remember having had this conversation before about ships but he still couldn’t help but giggle. “Is it a girl because you ride it?” More giggles. Peter was about as mature as a piece of wood. Which wasn’t much. Actually, could wood mature? He wasn’t sure. Cheese, yes. Wine, definitely.
And then Peter was going down a strange rabbit hole in his brain, and he needed to get back to the topic at hand.
“So since you’re so passionate about it, what do you suggest we name it? Since I apparently suck ass at naming.” He grumbled a little bit.
Yondu's lips curled into a smirk for a moment before he a thoughtful look took over. His hand stroked the graying, scraggly stubble on his chin. Jessica was definitely out considering she'd ghosted on him; he was still smarting from that. One of his Dream lovers, maybe? But which one? Xalaxia? No, she put a bounty on him once she found out he was seeing another woman at the same time on the other side of the planet.
"What about Zelvi?" He suddenly said, looking over at Peter. "You remember her from the dreams?" He realized too late he wasn't sure how much Peter had dreamt since they'd last talked about them. Which had been a long while ago.
Peter shook his head. “Zelvi sounds like a cow name. Or maybe a ..space cow, I guess.” Did that even make sure? Whatever. “This is like ...a majestic ship, and she needs a name that will stick and be spoken with with like ….respect and shit. Like ...Anne. Something solid. Anne is a solid name. No one fucks with Anne. She will beat you with a ruler and make you stand in the corner.”
Damn. Boy needed to hurry up and dream more. But Yondu didn’t snort at the ‘space cow’ comment. “Zelvi would cut your nuts off if she heard you call her a cow.”
Yondu’s face scrunched into that look he gave Peter whenever the boy opened his mouth and said something incredibly stupid. Like that. “Anne?? Shoot, you really do suck at namin’ shit.” He fell silent then, running through some more names in his head, mumbling a few under his breath as he slowly paced back and forth in front of the ship.
Then he stopped. He looked over at the elegant alien ship with a sort of reverent gravitas he rarely showed and said, “Meredith. I’m callin’ her Meredith.”
There were few moments in his life where Peter fully felt speechless.
This was one of them.
“Oh shit,” he whispered, swallowing thickly. “Is this what moving on feels like? Or growing up? Fuck...that’s like ...yeah. That’s perfect, Yondu.”
And it was. What a beautiful way to honour the greatest thing that ever happened in both their lives.
“I think we need to drink to this, hey?”
It was perfect. Yondu smiled broadly, hands on hips, proud. "Yeah. Go grab some cold ones from the cooler." He jerked his chin in the direction of the alien mini fridge in the corner of the hangar. Kraglin trotted up and leaned against Yondu's legs, nudging him for attention. The dog could always sense his moods. Yondu's big, rough hands scritched the top of the pit bull mix's head as he waited for Peter and the drinks. Looking over at the boy - really he was a man but often Yondu was hard pressed to admit to it - he was glad to be able to keep his promise to Meredith to watch over him. Despite the bumps in the road over the years things had worked out.