[ Peter catches a few hours of sleep here and there during their flight, no thanks to his unhealthy sense of paranoia, which prods him awake to evaluate his surroundings when things get too quiet. The rest of the time he spends staring out the window, watching the Earth coasting away beneath them.
(He had imagined his long-awaited homecoming, of course – especially when he was younger, and thought he still had something to return to – but less so in recent years. Peter may be mostly human, but his home isn't Earth anymore. It hasn't been for a long, long time.
Maybe some time in the future he would've found his way back on his own terms, but that choice is gone, now. But at least he arrived in a really fiery way.)
Half the day and a decent handful of hours later finds Peter staring out of the window again, chin propped up by his hand. He seems lost in thought, but he's aware enough to hear idle chatter about landing soon. About damn time, as far as he's concerned. ]
[ Yeah, the flight takes a while, but McCree’s used to it by this point. He wanders back to the medbay and chats with Angie for a bit- she makes some interesting remarks about Peter, but McCree is no doctor so her comments just sort of slide right off him as he nods and pretends to look fascinated. Otherwise he keeps himself entertained by watching moves, playing solitaire, or dozing on the couch.
At least the pilot’s voice chimes over the intercom to let them know to prep for landing. McCree extracts himself from the couch and takes a seat in the chair across from Peter, while the doctor primly makes her way to another seat further up the cabin to strap in. ]
I bet this is a far cry from what you’re used to, huh?
Still tryin’ to wrap my head around the idea that there’s other planets even out there. Guess it stands t’reason, but it sure makes a man feel small in the grand scheme a’ things.
Yeah, I guess it’s kinda humbling, at first, knowing there are other planets, other stations, other systems full of people dealing with their own problems and living their own lives.
You get over it after a while, though, same as anyone else. You kinda have to.
Makes sense. Thankfully, I ain’t the kinda guy to think about things too hard.
[ He flashes Peter a grin, leaning back in his seat as the pilot announces they’re beginning they’re descent. It’s not long before they land on a small airstrip near the base. What’s left of Overwatch’s home base are a series of structures built right into the mountainside, and McCree waits for Peter to exit the plane before heading towards the largest of them. As they go, he lights a cigar. Hope you don’t mind the smoke, bro. ]
I figure we’ll get ya straight to Winston so we can get a hold of your pals.
[ Peter hops off the plane after McCree, case in hand, and takes a second to examine his surroundings. The base reminds Peter more than a little of the kind of secret lair a Bond villain would own, thanks in no small part to the remote location and all the exposed stone, but he keeps the thought to himself. ]
That’s really all? E.T. phones home, and that’s the end of it?
If we wanted t’hurt ya, we’d have done it by now. That, or I’da just left ya to Delgado and his boys.
[ They enter the building through a pair of sliding doors and McCree leads them to an elevator. He jabs a mechanical knuckle at the button for the top floor and away they go. ]
You think your team’s probably still in orbit around here somewhere?
[ Peter leans back against the wall of the elevator, arms crossing over his chest. ]
I dunno. [ He frowns, contemplating the elevator’s buttons. ] I’m willing to bet you would’ve picked up their signature, if they were anywhere nearby. If I had to guess, I’d bet they’re halfway across the system.
We’ll have t’see what Winston’s dug up. I’m the muscle in this operation, not the brains.
[ The elevator dings as they reach the top floor, doors sliding open to admit them into Winston’s lab. Not surprisingly, there are computer monitors everywhere, amongst which are scattered projects- half-built machines and spare parts. Possibly surprisingly, there are also empty peanut butter containers everywhere.
And yes, there is a gorilla manning the main bank of computers.
McCree beckons Peter over and introduces him to Winston. The gorilla adjusts his glasses and says his hellos, but then it’s right to business. Winston pulls up a radar image on one of the monitors- a small dot circling hovering near a much larger circle.
He says, I’ve been tracking a small vessel around the moon. I’m not sure if they’re looking for something, or if they’re too heavily damaged to leave, but they haven’t gone far.
[ It’s a damn good thing McCree warned Peter beforehand about Winston’s gorilla-ness, or else instinct would’ve had him start in on the King Kong/Planet of the Apes jokes. None of them would’ve come out of that exchange happy. It’s even luckier that spending time with Rocket taught him to keep the shitty animal jokes to himself. And luckier still that Winston isn’t inclined for chit-chat, otherwise Peter surely would’ve stuck his foot in his mouth.
He frowns at the display when Winston refers to it, and at McCree’s question, he makes a quiet, indecisive noise. ]
Maybe. [ Cautiously, like he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. ] Probably.
Don’t suppose you’ve got a megaphone around here so I can make sure, do you? A couple of cans on string?
[ Winston looks borderline offended at that question, and McCree just kind of slides over between the two of them and drawls, ] Just hail ‘em. Please.
[ The gorilla snorts, still annoyed but mollified for the moment, and begins typing away. At some point, the base’s AI, Athena, cuts in and she and Winston manage to get a working line to the ship up in a couple of minutes. Ring, ring. ]
[ Peter was just about to tell the dude to chill out, but McCree intercedes just a second earlier. Peter wisely stays silent, lets Winston do his thing.
Eventually the line connects, and for a few seconds, there’s nothing but cautious silence – not unlike someone answering a call from an unknown number, curious but ready to slam down on the receiver at a second’s notice. Slowly, a voice comes over the line. A woman, possibly, the words alien and sibilant, but whatever it is she says makes Peter grin.
(What Peter hears is, “If this is Quill, recite the passphrase.”)
He surges forward, then. ] Hey. “I Want You Back.”
[ A split-second pause, and then there are four voices speaking at once over the line, all of them speaking different languages at varying volumes, though half of them sound urgent and annoyed and gruff. (One of them, at least, seems to be speaking the same three word phrase exclusively.) Peter responds to them in English, saying things like, “I’m fine,” or “Yeah, I’ve got the goods,” or, “… No. They’re alright,” or “I swear to God, Rocket—”
The woman’s voice cuts through the chaos, and the frown returns to Peter’s face. He pauses, then, turning to McCree and Winston and looking at them expectantly – until he remembers they probably haven’t understood any of their exchange. ]
They need to land for repairs. Is that base you’ve got up there safe enough?
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That's me. Pure angel, through and through.
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Anyway, got another few hours left before we land. You're welcome t' put a movie on if ya want.
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If it's all the same, I think I'm just gonna pass out, considering you woke me up at ass o'clock this morning.
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[ But he still motions to the empty space next to him ]
You want the couch? I can move.
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Nah. I'm good. I'm alright here.
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(He had imagined his long-awaited homecoming, of course – especially when he was younger, and thought he still had something to return to – but less so in recent years. Peter may be mostly human, but his home isn't Earth anymore. It hasn't been for a long, long time.
Maybe some time in the future he would've found his way back on his own terms, but that choice is gone, now. But at least he arrived in a really fiery way.)
Half the day and a decent handful of hours later finds Peter staring out of the window again, chin propped up by his hand. He seems lost in thought, but he's aware enough to hear idle chatter about landing soon. About damn time, as far as he's concerned. ]
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At least the pilot’s voice chimes over the intercom to let them know to prep for landing. McCree extracts himself from the couch and takes a seat in the chair across from Peter, while the doctor primly makes her way to another seat further up the cabin to strap in. ]
I bet this is a far cry from what you’re used to, huh?
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What, getting whisked away by a cowboy on a tricked-out airplane to someplace overseas?
[ A shrug. ]
Sounds like a standard Thursday to me.
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I mean the flyin’.
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Not really. I get around on a planet same as anyone else – one wing at a time.
Teleportation gives me motion sickness, anyway.
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Yeah, I guess it’s kinda humbling, at first, knowing there are other planets, other stations, other systems full of people dealing with their own problems and living their own lives.
You get over it after a while, though, same as anyone else. You kinda have to.
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[ He flashes Peter a grin, leaning back in his seat as the pilot announces they’re beginning they’re descent. It’s not long before they land on a small airstrip near the base. What’s left of Overwatch’s home base are a series of structures built right into the mountainside, and McCree waits for Peter to exit the plane before heading towards the largest of them. As they go, he lights a cigar. Hope you don’t mind the smoke, bro. ]
I figure we’ll get ya straight to Winston so we can get a hold of your pals.
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That’s really all? E.T. phones home, and that’s the end of it?
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Are you just really hopin’ somebody cuts you open or are you just that paranoid?
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[ They enter the building through a pair of sliding doors and McCree leads them to an elevator. He jabs a mechanical knuckle at the button for the top floor and away they go. ]
You think your team’s probably still in orbit around here somewhere?
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I dunno. [ He frowns, contemplating the elevator’s buttons. ] I’m willing to bet you would’ve picked up their signature, if they were anywhere nearby. If I had to guess, I’d bet they’re halfway across the system.
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[ The elevator dings as they reach the top floor, doors sliding open to admit them into Winston’s lab. Not surprisingly, there are computer monitors everywhere, amongst which are scattered projects- half-built machines and spare parts. Possibly surprisingly, there are also empty peanut butter containers everywhere.
And yes, there is a gorilla manning the main bank of computers.
McCree beckons Peter over and introduces him to Winston. The gorilla adjusts his glasses and says his hellos, but then it’s right to business. Winston pulls up a radar image on one of the monitors- a small dot circling hovering near a much larger circle.
He says, I’ve been tracking a small vessel around the moon. I’m not sure if they’re looking for something, or if they’re too heavily damaged to leave, but they haven’t gone far.
McCree quirks a brow, and turns to Peter. ]
Friends a’ yours?
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He frowns at the display when Winston refers to it, and at McCree’s question, he makes a quiet, indecisive noise. ]
Maybe. [ Cautiously, like he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. ] Probably.
Don’t suppose you’ve got a megaphone around here so I can make sure, do you? A couple of cans on string?
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[ The gorilla snorts, still annoyed but mollified for the moment, and begins typing away. At some point, the base’s AI, Athena, cuts in and she and Winston manage to get a working line to the ship up in a couple of minutes. Ring, ring. ]
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Eventually the line connects, and for a few seconds, there’s nothing but cautious silence – not unlike someone answering a call from an unknown number, curious but ready to slam down on the receiver at a second’s notice. Slowly, a voice comes over the line. A woman, possibly, the words alien and sibilant, but whatever it is she says makes Peter grin.
(What Peter hears is, “If this is Quill, recite the passphrase.”)
He surges forward, then. ] Hey. “I Want You Back.”
[ A split-second pause, and then there are four voices speaking at once over the line, all of them speaking different languages at varying volumes, though half of them sound urgent and annoyed and gruff. (One of them, at least, seems to be speaking the same three word phrase exclusively.) Peter responds to them in English, saying things like, “I’m fine,” or “Yeah, I’ve got the goods,” or, “… No. They’re alright,” or “I swear to God, Rocket—”
The woman’s voice cuts through the chaos, and the frown returns to Peter’s face. He pauses, then, turning to McCree and Winston and looking at them expectantly – until he remembers they probably haven’t understood any of their exchange. ]
They need to land for repairs. Is that base you’ve got up there safe enough?
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