Charlie spent a few hours in her underground hatch of the ship. She was popping little portions of space candy that Peter granted her for her birthday like they were drugs, because, in a few ways, they were. They reminded her of Earth; there was a similar taste to Jelly Beans, which she and Peter used to pop like pills during lunch. 

Going back to Earth could be a life, she knew. She would spent the rest of her life as a bit of a celebrity, considering she had been gone for twenty-something years and the return would be a miracle for her town, not to mention her family. She could imagine the looks on her parents faces when she showed up at their door. Heart attacks were a fair play, then bundles of everlasting love would be shoveled upon her. 

Charlie had wished more than once for a normal life again. Getting a taste of it, seeing her father, she almost wanted to take the chance again. She thought maybe it could be good for her to settle down and return for an easy remainder of her life. 

But something being good for her didn't mean it was what she wanted. She knew the risk of continuing to live in space with Peter; she was a pure human and didn't have the same defense that Peter or the others did. She wasn't Groot. If she was to die, that was it. Could she do that to Peter? Would it be better for him to know she was alive on Earth than watch her die in front of his eyes?

Charlie rolled over and shoved her face into her pillow. She screeched into the pillow over and over again, simply because it felt good. It felt good to relieve her frustrations in a way that wasn't words. Words were an expressive action that had no help to her at the moment. All thinking about it had done was make her go back and forth between what was good for Peter and what was good for herself. The end result was the same: she had no idea what to do.

A knock came from the door on her ceiling. 

Muffled, Charlie called, "Yes?"

"Can you meet Peter in front of the kitchen, please?" wondered Gamora. 

"I'll be there in a sec."

Checking her appearance in the mirror by the pull-down stairs, she fixed her hair into a ponytail and wiping her eyes so they appeared a little less red than before. She could do no better, simply due to the fact that she was too lazy to try. She needed to come to a decision about returning to Earth before she could move forward with anything else. 

Charlie grabbed the chain dangling from the hatch. She pulled the stairs down to the floor. She climbed the stairs and pushed open the hatch, coming face-to-face with the same space candy she was eating only a few minutes ago. Different colored pieces led away from the hatch. 

"Peter?" she called. 

There was no answer. 

Charlie followed the trail of candy. For the first time since the Guardians moved in, or were all sleeping at the same time, the ship was actually silent. Somehow, Peter managed to shut them up so the only sounds Charlie heard were her own footsteps patting along the floor of the Milano. 

"Peter?" called Charlie again. 

Again, the silence stood.

Charlie continued following the candy. A shadow on the floor came from the glow of a light. She stepped around the corner and felt her heart began to sew itself together again as soon as she raised her eyes from the ground. 

Peter turned and held up a finger when he saw her. He swiped his hair up and clenched the flowers in his hand tighter. He tried to look nice for her-- dressed in his nicest pants with an inside out white t-shirt and a black paper bow-tie stapled to the shirt. Standing straight, he offered a worried smile at his future wife. 

Charlie couldn't help but smile. She leaned on the door frame. Sighing, she wondered, "What's this, Pete?"

"I've known you forever, my beautiful girl," said Peter shyly. He did his best to meet her eyes as he spoke, but he found it hard to when he didn't know what the end result of his speech would be. "You've been there since the day I was born and you've seen me grow up. You know I'm stupid, and I used to hop around women, and I did the typical guy thing and didn't notice that I had my perfect girl in front of me."

"Preach," said Charlie. 

"You're not weak. Being affected by sadness doesn't measure how strong you are. You're strong because you deal with our dysfunctional friends all day long and you stay level headed. You're strong because you're constantly learning new ways to defend yourself to stay alive. You're strong because you're the glue in this team. You make this team more emotional," Peter told her honestly. 

"Is that necessarily a good thing?" 

Peter ignored her. To answer her question would mean deviating from the speech he wrote in his head and he wouldn't win her back. He continued, "You have emotions and you show them constantly, whether they're sad or happy. Showing them doesn't make you weak or strong. Makes you Terran."

"I repeat my earlier question," she said. 

"And you're perfect to me. I'm stupid, Charlie, I don't tell you that enough," he spoke over her. He paused. "That you're perfect, not that I'm stupid. But I guess that's probably a true statement, too. Anyway, you've been patient and you waited for me for the entire time we've been in space. And I failed you when it came to that same patience. You needed assurance and you needed me. I should have stuck around. I should have done better for you. I don't really want you to leave me. I need you, more than these guys, because I can't survive without you. Like, for real. If you left, I would die from starvation, or I'd break the washing machine, or--"

Charlie raised her hand. "I get it, Pete."

Peter approached her and took her hand. At last, he gained the bravery to look into her eyes, and he told her what he had decided: "I want you to do whatever you need to do to get better. If you really need to return to Earth, you go. I'll go. Where you lead, I'm going. So, you say the word and I'll sell this ship, and we can go back to Earth and finish our lives there. I'll do it."

"Peter," whispered Charlie. "Peter, no. You're not giving up your duty to the galaxy because eleven-year old me wants to home. That's selfish of me."

"I'd give up this ship for you," he told her slowly. 

Charlie shook her head. "No. You're not going that far, Pete. I know how much she means to you. She was your first love."

"I can tell you that's not true," corrected Peter.

An echoing voice came from somewhere along the ship. Rocket called, "Was it Charlie?" to which the others shushed him. 

"No, hon, it was actually Alyssa Milano, hence the ship's name, but the Milano is up there, for sure," corrected Charlie. She raised her voice for them to hear her, wherever they were hiding. "I come in at a close third, probably."

"Probably," joked Peter. 

Charlie wrapped her arms around him. "I didn't mean it. You're right. I can't abandon another family."

"That was mean. I shouldn't have said that."

"It was true. I just... I spent my whole life wondering how my parents are, if they still think I'm alive, and what my life would have been like if I wasn't here with you. It's stupid to do that because I can't go back and change it. I just can't get rid of the look on my Dad's face when we saw me. It broke my heart," she whispered to him. 

"I know. I know and I'm so sorry I wasn't more of a help when you clearly needed me," he apologized, grasping her tighter in his arms. 

"I overreacted," admitted Charlie. "I shouldn't have threatened to leave."

Peter pulled away from her and cupped her face. "I couldn't deal with you leaving me behind. I need you as my ass-kicking partner forever. We have to be more careful with you now, since you're only Terran, and totally should have died when we touched the Infinity Stone, but, at the very least, I need you to fulfill your duty to the galaxy."

"And what's that?" 

"Guard it, of course. We took an oath."

"We really didn't," laughed Charlie, kissing his lips once. "Self-appointed assholes, we are." 

"We should save the galaxy again," said Peter thoughtfully. "Can you imagine how much money we could be hired for if we save it twice? We'll be rich. I'll be able to buy you a real ring."

"Don't need one. It'll get lost during a fight anyway, or dented by punching someone, probably. That is if Rocket doesn't use it for a bomb," decided Charlie, wiggling her left hand out of his. She kissed him once more. "I'm not going to return to Terra. I couldn't do that, especially not to you. You're what makes this ship home, Peter. Sometimes, I just miss the air, or the trees, or my dog."

"I'll get you a dog, o-or we can have kids. I'll do it all with you, just as long as we stick together," offered Peter.

"We have enough to take care of as is. I have kids already. Five of 'em. All I need is just something to do to get over it, I guess. Gotta get over the hump that is my grief," decided Charlie finally.

Heavy thuds slapped the floor. Rocket came skidding around the corner, Groot clasping onto the fur on his friend's head, and they came to a stop at Charlie's feet. Breathless, Rocket yelled, "So, you're not returning to Earth?" while Groot shouted his signature three-word phrase over and over. 

"No, guys, I'm not. I was only being dramatic. I'd never return to Earth and live there. It's kinda boring, now. Too safe and not reckless enough for me. I've still got so much to see and do in the galaxy," promised Charlie, patting the heads of both Groot and Rocket. 

Peter stole a kiss. "You've still got to marry me."

"Oh yeah," remembered Charlie. "That's an actual thing we're supposed to do, right?"

"Soon," said Peter eagerly. 

"I'm sorry I was dramatic and caught up in my mind," apologized Charlie. 

"Don't apologize. I should have been more clear, too. Just promise next time you get a wave of grief, you talk with me? Don't isolate yourself," asked Peter. He pointed to Groot, who was wobbling on top of Rocket's head to outstretch himself for Charlie. "You've got a baby to take care of now. We need you. He does."

"I am Groot!" cheered the little tree when Charlie lifted him into her arm. She cradled him and he tried to climb over her body, desperate to hug her face. 

"You're a good fiance, Pete," whispered Charlie.

Pete nodded happily. "That's a relief."

"No more trouble in paradise?" wondered Rocket, trying his best to sound like he didn't care if there was. 

"No more trouble in paradise, Rocket," agreed Charlie. "However, I am bored just aimlessly traveling the galaxy, though, so how about we go find ourselves some trouble out there?"

"Not with your Terran self," disagreed Peter instantly. "You're under lock and key."

"I have the same amount of chance of death as you do," argued Charlie. 

"Nope. Terran's are proven to die quicker than Half-Terran's."

"You don't even know your other half. What if they're more prone to death than Terran's?"

"Then we can revisit this conversation," challenged Peter. "Until then I win."

Charlie glared. "Just you wait, Peter Quill. I'm now on a mission to find out what your other half is."

"So am I, Charlie," smiled Peter. "So am I."