[ Peter tenses as the arrow hovers in place, and Yondu sends him a look that somehow manages to say both, I'm sorry I have to do this and I'm gonna enjoy the hell out of this at the same time.
Theirs is a complicated relationship.
But Peter doesn't have any excuses, this time. He can't pull a miraculous job out of his ass, can't magically produce four billion units, so he doesn't bother to argue. Sure, he'll whine like a bitch, he'll blow things out of proportion, but he won't beg. Not to Yondu. If nothing else, the guy raised him better than that. So Yondu lets out one more long, high whistle, and--
-- Nothing happens.
A puzzled silence settles over everyone, and it's only then that Peter realizes he can't fucking move, though the Ravagers holding his arms tighten their grips on reflex. And the looks on everyone else's faces are telling him that they can't, either, which means--
This thing is so cool.
Oh, god fucking dammit, Maxwell. If he could move, he'd punch him. Or kiss him. Peter can't decide right now. ]
I thought I told you to go back to the ship. [ Peter tries to put some heat behind his words, voice rough and grating in his throat, but he can't quite muster it. ]
What the hell is this, Quill? Who the hell is this asshole?
[ The arrow thing is definitely cool, but he wants to take it out of play as soon as he can- he's got no idea how long the rushed augments to his Stop-Motion Field will work, and he'd rather not have something like that floating around.
He sketches out a spell as he speaks ] Name's Charlie. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer it if you didn't poke my friend here full of holes.
[ one final flourish and the arrow plummets to the ground like so much dead weight. This guy could whistle until he's blue in the face (ha), but he'll have a hell of a time getting it to do anything other than twitch ]
[ And try Yondu does -- only instead of whistling, thin red lines etched into the metal embedded in his head glow, echoing the markings on the arrow. Sure enough, nothing happens. ]
The hell have you done, boy?
[ His voice is low, menacing, filled with venom and promises of murder. The Ravagers behind him are struggling to reach for their weapons, still. Meanwhile, Peter relaxes in the other Ravagers' hold and thinks that Charlie is being way too fucking sexy right now. He needs to stop it. Immediately.
(No, that's not true. He's thinking that Charlie needs to seriously keep that up, because holy shit he's being hot as hell.) ]
It still works. I've just grounded it for a little while. I mean, do you know what it feels like to have something like that pointed at your face?
[ Charlie moves aside his jacket, giving a little whistle of his own, and one of his little knives comes zipping up, hovering level with one of Yondu's eyes. Point made? Point made.
Or at least he hopes so. He can feel his temporary augments starting to unravel. Things at the mouth of the alley are beginning to settle as the radius of the spell gets smaller by degrees. ]
So here's the deal, Papa Smurf, I'm gonna let you go. And then your buddies are gonna let Peter go. And if anybody so much as twitches towards their weapons, I'll bring this whole alley down on you so hard and so fast, they'll have to scoop what's left of you out of here with a shovel. Understand?
[ It's not a bluff, mostly. He'd use it, his Last Resort, if it came down to it. He doesn't want to have to, but he told Peter once "Whatever it takes" and he means it. ]
Charlie-- [ It comes out a little panicked, because Peter knows what Charlie means ("Emergencies only, right?" "Yeah. Pretty much."), but Yondu silences him with a glance.
It may not be a bluff, but it sure as hell looks like one. Sure, Charlie may have frozen their clothing -- an impressive display -- and he may have made some fancy lights in the air to drop the arrow to the ground. Even the whistle-commanded knife was nothing to scoff at, considering the deadly precision Yondu could control his own weapon with, using little more than a thought and a jaunty tune.
But to "bring this whole alley down"? Yondu's not buying it. And the use of "Papa Smurf" is extremely telling, considering he's only heard it said by one other person.
Which is why he gives Charlie a considering look and smiles. ]
Look at this, boys. Quill got himself his own little pet Terran. And he can do tricks. Ain't that somethin'?
[ His smile fades in an instant, though. ]
You think you're doin' good, but that ain't how it works out here. This boy here? [ He nods his head to Peter, whose jaw clenches. ] Stupid. Selfish. Disloyal. He'll forget you the instant a nice piece of ass sashayed past in a short skirt. He'd stab you in the back if it meant he'd come out on top.
Now, Quill owes us a debt, and I aim to see that debt repaid; tell you the truth, I'm doin' you a favor, Charlie. I admit you've impressed me a whole lot more'n Quill ever has, so if you undo whatever crap you've done to us in the next three seconds, I'm happy to let you go on your way.
[ He glances back at Peter, at where he stands frozen, just as much a prisoner of the spell as the rest of them. He chews his lower lip, brings up a hand, hesitates for half a second before he starts casting, expression grim and hurt.
Charlie's magic has its limits. He cannot manipulate people, animals, or plant life (considering said plant is still attached to its roots and is thereby still alive). So as much as he would like to throw this dude across the alley, it's not in his skillset.
But the things people wear are not alive, and most people are rather attached to their clothes. And these guys- well, long sleeves, long pants, heavy-duty boots- it's going to take a lot of effort to wiggle free.
He pauses, the rune nearly complete, and turns to Yondu. ]
One more thing, though.
Fuck you.
[ With a final, angry stroke, Charlie completes the spell, and several things happen all at once.
First of all, a certain blue-skinned Ravager will find himself yanked into the air by his boots, tails of his coat wrapping around to constrict his arms. Second of all, the enhancements on the Stop-Motion Field finally give way, and everyone will find they can move again. And third of all, Charlie whistles again, short notes in quick succession, bringing a knife out of each Ravager left. They float around him like a wreath, poised and ready to strike. ]
[ For a moment there, Peter has no idea what Charlie's thinking, only sees that look of hurt that flashes across his face.
Maybe the guy really would leave him here. After all, there were a few weeks where he totally ignored the dude, right? Literally went chasing after anyone with curvy enough hips and breasts to run away from-- whatever the fuck the two of them were meant to be. And it'd logically follow, considering Peter's previous dealings. People come and go out of his life. He shouldn't trust anyone--
But, no, that's wrong. He trusts his team. He trusts Charlie.
-- And then Yondu only has time to let out a startled yelp as he rises into the air, and Peter thinks he looks sort of like a sleeping bat, hanging from the roof of a cave. It almost makes him smile.
And Peter can suddenly move again -- but so can all the others, and hands are reaching for weapons while Charlie summons his knives. The Ravagers on either side of him are tightening their grips all the more, and Peter's starting to wonder if they're going to cut off his circulation to his hands. The mercenaries cast wary looks between Yondu and Charlie.
For a long moment, a tense silence settles over the alleyway. Then, ]
Let the little bastard go.
[ It's barked out reluctantly, and if looks could kill, Charlie might as well be dead fifteen times over by now. As it is, the Ravagers loosen their hold at long last, and one of them shoves him toward Charlie. Peter staggers a little but maintains his balance. ]
[ Charlie motions his little knives front-facing as they back away. Once they reach the mouth of the alley, he assumes they're going to bolt, blend into the crowd and get back to the ship. ]
[ Charlie would be right -- although at some point the adrenaline that had kept Peter going fades, leaving him stumbling and leaning against Charlie for support. He's tired and aching and one of his eyes is swelling and darkening in a way he just knows is unattractive as fuck.
By the time they're back on the ship, the others are asking what the fuck happened -- apparently the supplies they purchased beat them here -- and Peter merely bites out, "Yondu," and collapses into a seat at the table in the common area. That seems to spur the others into action, and Gamora and Rocket practically fly up into the cockpit to get the Milano moving.
Peter falls forward, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the table, his arms practically boneless on the surface. ]
[ -- granted, Peter only sounds, like, 75% sure about that. ]
He would've done a lot of posturing, and then I would've gone, "Wait, Yondu--" and then he would've pretended to show mercy or whatever. Offered a job. Had us help steal something. Shit like that.
He didn't know who you were. He sees any of the other guys in a crowd, he thinks, "They can lead me to Quill." Before today, if he saw you in a crowd? He'd think, "Just some dude."
But, nope. You stepped in. You pissed him off in a really fucking big way, and now, when he sees you in a crowd, he's gonna think, "Target."
We could've fucking tried. We could've held you back as our ace in the hole or something.
[ He makes a frustrated noise -- almost like a grown -- and scrubs his face on reflex. He hisses when he hits the swelling on his cheekbone, though, and contents himself with pulling his hand through his hair. ]
I know you think I'm some kinda idiot or something? But believe it or fucking not, Maxwell, I actually know what the hell I'm doing out here.
I don't think you're an idiot, Peter. I don't. I-- sorry, all right? I'm sorry.
[ He doesn't know what to say other than that. He sighs, standing up. ]
Whatever. Out of my depth. Won't happen again. [ And he turns to go. He doesn't want to have this argument right now. He just doesn't. It feels like it's been one fuckup after another, and he's tired of it. ]
[ For a long moment, Peter just sits in moody silence. He-- sort of feels like he won that argument. Which is good, right? It's. It's probably good. Not often he actually wins these things, so. Take that, Maxwell.
Peter's jaw ticks as Charlie moves away. ]
Hey, wait--
[ He stands, making a grab for Charlie's arm-- staggers instead. Jesus fuck, for an old guy, Yondu really packs a punch; his arm wraps around his waist again, and he sits back down heavily. ]
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Theirs is a complicated relationship.
But Peter doesn't have any excuses, this time. He can't pull a miraculous job out of his ass, can't magically produce four billion units, so he doesn't bother to argue. Sure, he'll whine like a bitch, he'll blow things out of proportion, but he won't beg. Not to Yondu. If nothing else, the guy raised him better than that. So Yondu lets out one more long, high whistle, and--
-- Nothing happens.
A puzzled silence settles over everyone, and it's only then that Peter realizes he can't fucking move, though the Ravagers holding his arms tighten their grips on reflex. And the looks on everyone else's faces are telling him that they can't, either, which means--
This thing is so cool.
Oh, god fucking dammit, Maxwell. If he could move, he'd punch him. Or kiss him. Peter can't decide right now. ]
I thought I told you to go back to the ship. [ Peter tries to put some heat behind his words, voice rough and grating in his throat, but he can't quite muster it. ]
What the hell is this, Quill? Who the hell is this asshole?
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[ The arrow thing is definitely cool, but he wants to take it out of play as soon as he can- he's got no idea how long the rushed augments to his Stop-Motion Field will work, and he'd rather not have something like that floating around.
He sketches out a spell as he speaks ] Name's Charlie. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer it if you didn't poke my friend here full of holes.
[ one final flourish and the arrow plummets to the ground like so much dead weight. This guy could whistle until he's blue in the face (ha), but he'll have a hell of a time getting it to do anything other than twitch ]
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The hell have you done, boy?
[ His voice is low, menacing, filled with venom and promises of murder. The Ravagers behind him are struggling to reach for their weapons, still. Meanwhile, Peter relaxes in the other Ravagers' hold and thinks that Charlie is being way too fucking sexy right now. He needs to stop it. Immediately.
(No, that's not true. He's thinking that Charlie needs to seriously keep that up, because holy shit he's being hot as hell.) ]
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[ Charlie moves aside his jacket, giving a little whistle of his own, and one of his little knives comes zipping up, hovering level with one of Yondu's eyes. Point made? Point made.
Or at least he hopes so. He can feel his temporary augments starting to unravel. Things at the mouth of the alley are beginning to settle as the radius of the spell gets smaller by degrees. ]
So here's the deal, Papa Smurf, I'm gonna let you go. And then your buddies are gonna let Peter go. And if anybody so much as twitches towards their weapons, I'll bring this whole alley down on you so hard and so fast, they'll have to scoop what's left of you out of here with a shovel. Understand?
[ It's not a bluff, mostly. He'd use it, his Last Resort, if it came down to it. He doesn't want to have to, but he told Peter once "Whatever it takes" and he means it. ]
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It may not be a bluff, but it sure as hell looks like one. Sure, Charlie may have frozen their clothing -- an impressive display -- and he may have made some fancy lights in the air to drop the arrow to the ground. Even the whistle-commanded knife was nothing to scoff at, considering the deadly precision Yondu could control his own weapon with, using little more than a thought and a jaunty tune.
But to "bring this whole alley down"? Yondu's not buying it. And the use of "Papa Smurf" is extremely telling, considering he's only heard it said by one other person.
Which is why he gives Charlie a considering look and smiles. ]
Look at this, boys. Quill got himself his own little pet Terran. And he can do tricks. Ain't that somethin'?
[ His smile fades in an instant, though. ]
You think you're doin' good, but that ain't how it works out here. This boy here? [ He nods his head to Peter, whose jaw clenches. ] Stupid. Selfish. Disloyal. He'll forget you the instant a nice piece of ass sashayed past in a short skirt. He'd stab you in the back if it meant he'd come out on top.
Now, Quill owes us a debt, and I aim to see that debt repaid; tell you the truth, I'm doin' you a favor, Charlie. I admit you've impressed me a whole lot more'n Quill ever has, so if you undo whatever crap you've done to us in the next three seconds, I'm happy to let you go on your way.
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[ He glances back at Peter, at where he stands frozen, just as much a prisoner of the spell as the rest of them. He chews his lower lip, brings up a hand, hesitates for half a second before he starts casting, expression grim and hurt.
Charlie's magic has its limits. He cannot manipulate people, animals, or plant life (considering said plant is still attached to its roots and is thereby still alive). So as much as he would like to throw this dude across the alley, it's not in his skillset.
But the things people wear are not alive, and most people are rather attached to their clothes. And these guys- well, long sleeves, long pants, heavy-duty boots- it's going to take a lot of effort to wiggle free.
He pauses, the rune nearly complete, and turns to Yondu. ]
One more thing, though.
Fuck you.
[ With a final, angry stroke, Charlie completes the spell, and several things happen all at once.
First of all, a certain blue-skinned Ravager will find himself yanked into the air by his boots, tails of his coat wrapping around to constrict his arms. Second of all, the enhancements on the Stop-Motion Field finally give way, and everyone will find they can move again. And third of all, Charlie whistles again, short notes in quick succession, bringing a knife out of each Ravager left. They float around him like a wreath, poised and ready to strike. ]
You wanna let him go, or what?
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Maybe the guy really would leave him here. After all, there were a few weeks where he totally ignored the dude, right? Literally went chasing after anyone with curvy enough hips and breasts to run away from-- whatever the fuck the two of them were meant to be. And it'd logically follow, considering Peter's previous dealings. People come and go out of his life. He shouldn't trust anyone--
But, no, that's wrong. He trusts his team. He trusts Charlie.
-- And then Yondu only has time to let out a startled yelp as he rises into the air, and Peter thinks he looks sort of like a sleeping bat, hanging from the roof of a cave. It almost makes him smile.
And Peter can suddenly move again -- but so can all the others, and hands are reaching for weapons while Charlie summons his knives. The Ravagers on either side of him are tightening their grips all the more, and Peter's starting to wonder if they're going to cut off his circulation to his hands. The mercenaries cast wary looks between Yondu and Charlie.
For a long moment, a tense silence settles over the alleyway. Then, ]
Let the little bastard go.
[ It's barked out reluctantly, and if looks could kill, Charlie might as well be dead fifteen times over by now. As it is, the Ravagers loosen their hold at long last, and one of them shoves him toward Charlie. Peter staggers a little but maintains his balance. ]
Now undo whatever the hell you've done to me.
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Peter?
[ ultimately it's Peter's call if they let the guy go or not. Charlie isn't keen on the idea ]
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Let's-- let's just go. Let them figure out how to get him out of that.
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By the time they're back on the ship, the others are asking what the fuck happened -- apparently the supplies they purchased beat them here -- and Peter merely bites out, "Yondu," and collapses into a seat at the table in the common area. That seems to spur the others into action, and Gamora and Rocket practically fly up into the cockpit to get the Milano moving.
Peter falls forward, pressing his forehead against the cool metal of the table, his arms practically boneless on the surface. ]
That coulda gone better.
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[ Charlie plops down in a chair next to Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder ] You okay?
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I told you to go back.
[ Still, there's only a hint of anger behind his words. He just can't really muster much else. ]
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[ -- granted, Peter only sounds, like, 75% sure about that. ]
He would've done a lot of posturing, and then I would've gone, "Wait, Yondu--" and then he would've pretended to show mercy or whatever. Offered a job. Had us help steal something. Shit like that.
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[ He sits up a little, turning to look at him. ]
He didn't know who you were. He sees any of the other guys in a crowd, he thinks, "They can lead me to Quill." Before today, if he saw you in a crowd? He'd think, "Just some dude."
But, nope. You stepped in. You pissed him off in a really fucking big way, and now, when he sees you in a crowd, he's gonna think, "Target."
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But even so. ]
You couldn't keep me hidden from them forever and you know it.
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[ He makes a frustrated noise -- almost like a grown -- and scrubs his face on reflex. He hisses when he hits the swelling on his cheekbone, though, and contents himself with pulling his hand through his hair. ]
I know you think I'm some kinda idiot or something? But believe it or fucking not, Maxwell, I actually know what the hell I'm doing out here.
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[ He doesn't know what to say other than that. He sighs, standing up. ]
Whatever. Out of my depth. Won't happen again. [ And he turns to go. He doesn't want to have this argument right now. He just doesn't. It feels like it's been one fuckup after another, and he's tired of it. ]
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Peter's jaw ticks as Charlie moves away. ]
Hey, wait--
[ He stands, making a grab for Charlie's arm-- staggers instead. Jesus fuck, for an old guy, Yondu really packs a punch; his arm wraps around his waist again, and he sits back down heavily. ]
Charlie-- hang on, okay?
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He stops, and turns to face him ]
What is it, Peter?
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[ He heaves out a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. ]
I just--
Sorry, okay? Sorry. You saved my ass just then, and I shouldn't have made you feel shitty about it, and I'm grateful. I am, honestly. I'm grateful.
I just-- Yondu is a scary fucker, okay? He's smart as hell. He's good at reading people. And I just--
[ --wanted to protect you.
His hands drop to his lap. ]
--didn't want him to figure out a way to use you.
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