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Being the only human in space could be lonely.
Peter looked out his window on the Elector, fiddling with the Walkman in his hands. The weight of it was familiar, the music playing loud enough from where his headphones sat on his bunk.
Peter was craving familiarity that night, which was why O-O-H Child had been set on repeat, the soft tune filling his chest with some sort of painful nostalgia. The words came out just the same as they always did, and yet in Peter’s ears all he could hear was the voice of his mother, singing him to sleep after a nightmare.
Life with the Ravagers wasn’t always so bad. Yondu had taken him down to learn how to shoot only days ago. He gifted him with his first blaster and, after some convincing, finally allowed Peter to join in on some of the action instead of staying off to the side like some little kid. Peter felt like he was finally getting used to life away from home. Away from Earth.
The Quadrant, as accustomed as he was becoming to it, would never be his home. It would never be his. He would never feel entirely at peace here.
They were vagabonds, drifters who floated amidst the cosmos with no real home to turn to.
Peter picked up his headphones from the mattress, slipping them on over his ears and leaning back against the wall. He sighed, a dreadful feeling sinking its way to the bottom of his stomach. The loneliness was creeping up on him again, screaming out that he didn't belong here, that he had no home to go back to.
The stars outside his window flickered and gleamed, dancing around his vision like they were made for him. Peter smiled, feeling an inexplicable warmth fill his body.
The stars.
The stars held a promise that Peter couldn't put into words. Whenever he felt lost, they twinkled in his direction, filling the empty space in his heart and giving him hope that there was more out there than this. That maybe someone out there was just as lonely as he was, that maybe, one day…
They could be lonely together.
Her face reflected the light pouring in through the cockpit, the rays accentuating the silver etchings on her skin. They were a testament of what she had gone through, where she had come from. Peter saw pain there, but also the unmistakable beauty in the fine lines, an underlying message shining through and demanding to be heard. It was as if she had stood up and announced to the galaxy, “I survived and I’m not going anywhere.”
Gamora looked over at him, catching his eyes on her and sending him a smile that could have brought him to his knees. She took his hand from where she sat in the co-pilot chair, tracing foreign letters across his skin and sending shivers down his spine. There was no sentence important enough, no words that could disclose their own internal thought processes. A subtle cosmic pull could be felt between them, like two polar charges longing to be connected with their opposite.
Peter watched as the stars shimmered and waved towards them, flashing and radiating their iridescent light in all directions. He squeezed her hand, holding back the tears catching in his eyes as his childhood hope danced and winked at him amongst the starlight.
But little do we know the stars welcome him with open arms
Peter turned his head towards Gamora to find her gaze still fixated on him, her overwhelming love and concern shining through like a beacon. A wave of énoument washed over him as he sat with her, holding her hand and looking at the same stars that provided him with comfort all those years ago.
Peter wished he could go back and tell his past self what he would be given, the home he would find. He was not sure he would've believed himself if such a thing was possible, but he knew that even the thought alone would have given his younger self a lot more reasons to keep on fighting.
Time is
His home is a feeling. His home is a person.
Slowly
“Are you okay?” Gamora asked, biting her inner lip as she waited for an answer. Her expression was calm, her voice silky. Peter swore that even if she began to speak and never stopped, he would still never get enough of her voice. Every part of her was perfect. Every part of her was home.
Tracing his face
“Yeah,” Peter said, a few stray tears leaking down his face as he took her in. “I’m okay.”
“I’m home.”
But strangely he feels a home in this place.