Mothers Meredith Quill and Jennifer Rivet could never express how joyed they were to find out their own children, Peter and Charlotte, were joined at the hip in the exact way their mothers' used to be as children.

Since the two were born, a mere year apart, they were stuck in a friendship neither one could escape. They were lucky they took a liking to one another; time and time again they were pushed together by their mothers.

At the start of where their simple lives became extraordinary, Peter and Charlotte were slouching in hard hospital chairs directly outside of a room where his mother was slowly withering away. 

"You can come in, baby," Charlotte's mother had whispered.

Charlotte peered into the hospital room where Peter's mother was resting. She watched a group of grown people crying, huddled around the bed, touching any part of his mother they could reach for consolation. 

She looked to Peter. He hadn't moved from his seat since he arrived with his grandfather. His gaze was stuck on the Walkman in his hands. He needed somebody. It was automatically her job to be that somebody. 

As she would for the rest of her life, Charlotte chose Peter. 

Previously, when his mother became ill, he told Charlotte he wasn't going to cry. Puffing his chest out, he claimed, "Peter Quill doesn't cry." His claim kept for longer than they both expected. It was, at long last, close the moment to where he broke it. 

Charlotte took a seat in the chair. She offered a smile to Peter, who hadn't raised his head to acknowledge her at all. She leaned close to his headphones to hear what song he was listening to. 

"10cc. My mom always listens to them," said Charlotte. 

Peter nodded once. 

Charlotte frowned at him. She wanted desperately to do or say something that would make him smile. Nothing came to mind. All the usual things that made him laugh wouldn't, because they were stuck in a situation where everyone's mood was at an all time low. He was incurable.

"Peter," whispered his grandfather. He knelt in front of him. "Come see your mother."

Peter continued to stare at the Walkman in his lap. It was no trouble guessing he didn't want to be near his mother when she finally passed. 

Charlotte placed her hand on his, smiling encouragingly. "This might be your last chance," she offered softly. 

"You don't want to miss out on that, do you, Pete?" wondered his grandfather. 

Peter pulled his headphones from over his hears. Wrapping them in his Walkman, he set it in Charlotte's lap for safekeeping. His grandfather led the way into the hospital room. 

It wasn't long, perhaps five minutes, before loud sobbing traveled to her ears. Her head snapped up just in time to see Peter breeze past her, tears streaming down his face. 

Looking between her quietly crying mother and the door Peter burst from, Charlotte quickly debating who needed her more. She chose Peter, again. Her mother was in a room full of people. Peter was alone. 

Securing her school bag on her back, she clutched the Walkman to her chest, then sprinted after her best friend. She found him in the field behind the hospital. He shouted desperately into the night sky, screaming his mother's name.

Charlotte frowned. She dropped to her knees behind him, then placed her arms around his trembling body.

"Why are you here?" Peter managed to ask.

"Best friends forever, never apart. Maybe by distance... But never in heart."

It was a stupid saying Peter had found, when searching for a perfect goodbye card for Charlotte, who was leaving for Chicago in less than a month. He had given it to Charlotte. Since then, it became something of a motto for their unbreakable friendship. 

No reaction was able to be seen from either child, as a randomly appearing vehicle took away their somber feelings. All that remained was utter confusion. From out of nowhere, a space ship turned up above them. A bright light shined directly into their eyes. 

A beam encircled the two children, transporting them into the belly of the space ship. 

 There, in that field, were their last moments on Earth for a long time.  Home was behind her and the galaxy was ahead.

Twenty-four years? Twenty-six, maybe. Charlotte couldn't remember the exact amount of years that had passed since she and Peter unwillingly left Terra.

Space men, Ravengers, snatched Peter and Charlotte from Terra. Their original plan was to eat the children, specifically Charlotte, since, "women taste better." It never happened, due to their cocky savior, Yondu, who gave strict orders to leave the children alone once he saw how frightened they are. From that day forward, he never missed a chance to remind the two of his good deed.

Yondu and the Ravengers raised Peter and Charlotte. What they did could have been classified as criminal work. They scavenged deep, dark parts of the galaxy. Some called it stealing. Depended on who one asked. 

Peter had grown to have a knack for guns.

Charlotte, or Charlie now, took up with hand-to-hand combat. It was necessary to stay alive on that ship, being the only woman on board. She educated herself on weak points in the body. Every time she was harassed or tempted into a fight, it never took longer than a few minutes to take an opponent down.

For years, Peter and Charlie were forced to stay cramped in a tiny room on Yondu's ship together. The day they saved enough to buy their own ship very well may have been the happiest day of Charlie's life. It meant she could have space to herself. 

More importantly, it meant being able to avoid Peter when he brought girls back into their room. He was always polite enough to leave one of her hair ties wrapped around the handle, alerting her to another girl in their space, but it didn't stop the pain that hit her chest when she found out. She would never admit to him how much she despised seeing him with other women. 

Any sane person would tell her to leave, get her own ship, go off by herself. Charlie was sane, of course. The problem was that she was too in love with Peter Quill to leave him on his own. 

In decorating her brand new room, she ensured to have a shrine of Peter and herself. The pictures consisted of different planets they visited together. A new planet called for a photo taken with her clunky Polaroid camera, one of the things she carried in her schoolbag when she was abducted. She never knew how that old thing held on for all those years, but it had.

Other than the photo shrine, everything was simple. She had close to no space after she begged Peter for a king sized bed. In the limited space left, she managed a small nightstand with two drawers to hold her clothes. 

One night, when Peter was absent all day, he returned with what he called a surprise. Per her rules, he wasn't able to climb down the ladder and into her bedroom. Hands over his eyes, he opened the hatch in the floor and handed her his present. 

"I know that we can see the real stars anytime we want, I just, um, thought you would like these," he had said nervously. 

Charlie forever treasured the stick-on stars he gave her, because he had gone out of his way to get them for her. Every night, she fell asleep gazing at their stars. Peter never knew, for the simple reason that he wasn't allowed in her bedroom. 

"Why can't I come in?" he whined almost everyday. 

"Have you seen any other area in this ship?" she challenged, every single time he asked, "I would like to keep my space from the mess you manage to make just by breathing."

Cleaning was useless within the Milano. A solid two minutes after the inside of the ship shined, it was ruined, by Peter, though he claimed he never tried to mess anything up. She never believed him.

"Charlie girl!" called Peter, "We've landed on Morag, get up here!"

Charlie climbed up the ladder. On the way to the cockpit, she grabbed a bowl of cereal from their makeshift kitchen. The quiet smack of her boots against the stairs alerted the pilot.

Peter spun his chair to face her, flashing a toothy smile. "Good morning, Charlie girl!"

Routinely, Charlie swept down and connected her lips to Peter's scruffy cheek. As he landed their ship, she tilted his head forward to check behind his ears. She always made sure to check his helmet was on before any mission they proceeded on. 

"Stop worrying about me, Charlie," said Peter, "I'm more concerned about you."

Charlie squinted her eyes suspiciously. 

Peter rose from his seat. He hopped down the steps, then settled his guns into the holsters on his thighs. 

Charlie slipped the last spoonful of cereal into her mouth before setting the bowl on the co-pilot seat. She strode down the steps and straight to the door, hand hovering over the button to release the hatch. Her head turned to Peter expectantly, only to find him searching her body with his eyes.

"See something you like?" teased Charlie. 

Peter rolled his eyes. "Where are your weapons?"

Charlie turned and lifted the back of her jacket, revealing knife holsters that crossed in the shape of an 'x' at the end of her spine. 

"I meant long distance," clarified Peter.

"I can throw knives."

"Just careful out here," he pleaded.

"Yes, okay," said Charlie impatiently, "Are you finished?"

Peter hit the button behind his ear. His mask slid over his face. 

Charlie authorized the doors to open. 

Morag was entirely deserted planet. No signs of life were present, excluding animals and plants. Light rain sprinkled from the sky, wetting the desert land. 

Briskly, Peter and Charlie made their way across the cracking pavement. Their only stop came when they came upon a crack in the land too large to simply jump over. Peter swept her into his arms and flipped on the boosters under his shoes, flying them across the split. 

Across the split land stood an ancient building, although not for much longer it seemed, judging by the molding along the walls and caved in front door.

Clueless to what the building held, Charlie kicked the door open, alerting anything inside to their presence. Sneaking around was not at all what the two were fond of. It took only a second for them to realize that the building matched the rest of Morag: deserted.

Charlie frowned. The entire mission sent cautious vibes to her. She turned to voice her thoughts to Peter, but he wasn't present. 

As always, she was forced to track him by his rhythmic mumbling. He had danced into another room in the deserted building. Orange over-the-ear headphones rested on his head, the single wire plugged into the Walkman strapped to his hips.

"Hey (hey) What's the matter with your head? yeah...

Hey (hey) What's the matter with your mind and all your sighing?

And-a ooh-ohh

Hey (hey) Nothin's a matter with your head, baby, find it

Come on and find it

Hell, with it, baby, 'cause you're fine and you're mine

And you look so divine..."

Three scaled creatures scurried towards Peter. Seeing their chomping teeth ready to attack, Peter kicked each one away to the beat of the song.He caught a creature in his hand and used it as a microphone, spinning around and lip syncing to Charlie.

Satisfied with her giggling, he moon-walked his way towards the next set of doors. Following her previous move, he kicked the doors open. It was there they found what they were asked to retrieve: a silver orb, enclosed in a cylinder case of protective light. 

Peter rolled a magnetic gatherer onto the floor in front of the case. The orb stretched through the bars of light before it stuck to the device. Peter bent down to swipe the orb from the floor.

Three men barged in through the door behind them. Three guns were aimed at the pair. 

"Drop the orb!" shouted one of them. 

At gunpoint, it was easy for Peter to agree. The orb slipped from his fingers instantly. His hands raised in surrender.

"How do you know about this?" the dark skinned man inquired.

"Look, man, we're Ravengers," explained Peter.

"We saw something pretty, we went for it," agreed Charlie.

Peter pointed at her, nodding his head. She was the more believable liar between the pair.

Charlie felt insanely fidgety as the man's menacing blue eyes examined her.

"What are your names?" he asked. Following the duo's silence, he shouted an order in a language unknown to the translators in their ears. 

Charlie was grabbed roughly by one of the men. She struggled at first, though one slight shake of the head from Peter made her stop. She blew angry air out of her nose. She despised being manhandled. 

"Peter Quill! My name is Peter Quill and that's Charlie," he stalled. 

Thousands of different break out plans ran through her mind. It was a common grab: one arm around her shoulders and the other loose on her left arm.

Charlie winked to let Peter know she was ready when he was.

"There is another name you may know me by," he continued.

Charlie tried her best to hold in her sigh. She should have known he was going to make his name known. 

"Star-Lord."

"Who?"

"Star-Lord. Man, come on. Legendary outlaw!" whined Peter. He looked at the other two men. "You two haven't heard of me, either?"

The men shook their heads.

"Bring them to the ship. Ronan may want to question them," ordered the leader.

Subtly, Peter's left hand dropped to his side. One by one, his fingers dipped into his palm, counting down. When his last finger disappeared, they took on their attackers. 

Charlie stomped down on the man's foot. He stumbled backwards, allowing her to swung her foot around into his side. He bent over in pain. She snatched a rock from the ground and whipped it at him. It missed his head, but it did succeed in knocking him off balance. 

Charlie ducked behind Peter. She stretched her hands under his long coat. Her fingers tapped along his sides until they wrapped around his guns. Sensing her move, Peter quickly pulled forward his long coat.

Standing in between their attackers, she aimed one gun at each attacker. Both men held up their hands in surrender. She knew better than that. Charlie fired. Their bodies dropped. 

"Do you have the orb?" she asked hurriedly. 

Peter answered her question by nodding. He took back his guns.

"Good. Now back to the ship," she ordered. 

Their path out of the door was instantly blocked by the leader's return. It didn't take him very long to realize what they had done. He let out a battle cry.

Peter grabbed Charlie by her jacket, at such a force that they fell to the floor together, narrowly avoiding a kill shot. The shot created a convenient exit in the decaying wall. Charlie held onto Peter. He turned on the rocket boosters, flying them out far enough to wear guns couldn't reach them. 

In the clear, they sprinted to the ship. The road remained clear, until they reached the Milano. Six men peered at their spacecraft.

Again, Peter tossed a magnetic disc in their direction. All six men stuck to it. 

Blasts erupted from behind the pair as they impatiently waited for the roof of the cockpit to slid open. Charlotte dove in. Peter crawled into his seat. He piloted quickly and ungracefully, retaining Charlie from being able to get into her own chair. Her nails dug into her chair, trying to keep herself steady. 

Away from the attackers, Peter steadied the plane. He let out of a sigh of relief. He was about to grin at Charlie when their plane hit a water spout, forcing it to spin out of control.

Not strapped in, Peter flew from his seat. He managed to grab onto the head rest. He struggled to return to the pilot's seat.

Hooked onto the co-pilot's seat, Charlie held out her hand. Peter reached for her. He pulled her to the headrest he occupied. She moved his hand down to place her foot in. On the count of three, he gave a good shove, and she went soaring forward, her outstretched hand reaching the handle. 

A single shove of the handle upwards brought the plane into flight once more. The gravity returned to normal. 

The pair hit the floor roughly. Chests rapidly rising and falling, they managed to seek out each other's hands and exchange a fist-bump.

"Nothing like space, huh?" joked Peter.

Charlie breathlessly agreed. She pushed herself to her feet, then helped Peter from the floor. 

"Time to get the orb back to Yondu?" he asked. 

"Yes, and let's hurry that up. I wanna explore the galaxy some more," said Charlie eagerly. 

"Is that a sexual innuendo?" he called hopelessly after her retreating figure.