(this is Owen btw)

THROWN A SCRATCHY YELLOW TANK TOP
and a pair of matching pants, Layla found herself changing in the same cramped room as the enigmatic green woman who had thrown a punch at her just hours before. With her hearing aids confiscated, Layla was plunged into a disorienting silence, her mind buzzing with unease at the unknown circumstances surrounding their imprisonment.

As she slipped the tank top over her slender frame, Layla's gaze drifted to the scattered scars adorning her arms, a testament to the trials she had endured over the years. Though most were mere accidents, Layla couldn't shake the sense of insecurity they evoked within her. Her father's reassurances echoed in her mind, but doubts still lingered.

Glancing over at Gamora, Layla found herself drawn to the intense glare directed her way. When Gamora noticed Layla's gaze, she quickly averted her eyes, leaving Layla with a whirlwind of questions about the enigmatic woman now sharing her captivity. What drove her to pursue the orb with such fervor? What secrets lay hidden in her past?

Meeting up with her father, Layla strained to make out his words amidst the muffled chaos of their surroundings. "They took my hearing aids," Layla explained, gesturing to her ears as Peter's expression shifted to one of understanding.

Raising his hands to communicate through sign language, Peter conveyed a simple message: "Stay close to me." Layla nodded in response, grateful for her father's efforts to bridge the communication gap.

As the chaos of the prison unfolded around them, Layla found solace in the distraction provided by the commotion surrounding Gamora. With insults hurled and food flung, Layla welcomed the respite from the burden of strained communication.

"It's like I said, she's got a rep. A lot of prisoners lost their families to Ronan and his goons," Rocket's voice cut through the tumult, offering insight into Gamora's troubled past.

"The guards will protect her, won't they?" Peter inquired, his concern evident as he sought reassurance from Rocket.

"Their here to stop us from getting out. They don't care what we do to each other," Rocket replied matter-of-factly, dispelling any illusions of safety within the confines of the prison walls.

As the group's attention turned to Gamora's cryptic words, Layla couldn't help but feel a shiver of apprehension ripple through her. The arrival of a menacing figure only heightened the tension, prompting Peter to instinctively shield Layla from the looming threat.

"I'm gonna slather you up in Gunavian jelly, and go to town—" the aggressor threatened, his words cut short as Groot intervened with swift and decisive action, leaving the man writhing in pain on the floor.

With Rocket's declaration of solidarity, Layla felt a surge of gratitude towards their unlikely allies. Peter protectively gripped onto Layla's hand, they moved forward together.

"We're with them," Peter declared, his voice resonating with unwavering resolve as they ventured forth into the unknown.

THE GUARDS HAD SADLY ESCORTED
Layla to a dimly lit cell, where the only other occupant appeared to be a slumbering boy, and also apparently one of the only other kids in the prison, likely around fourteen or fifteen years old. Despite the exhaustion that weighed heavily upon her, Layla found herself unable to rest, her mind racing with a tumult of thoughts and emotions.

Leaning against the cold stone wall, Layla tried in vain to find solace in the darkness that surrounded her. The return of her hearing aids offered little comfort, serving only to heighten her sense of isolation within the confines of the prison cell.

"Hey, roomie," a tired voice broke the silence, causing Layla to glance over at the source. The boy who had been sleeping moments before now sat up, leaning against the opposite wall with a weary expression.

"I'm Owen Calypso," he introduced himself, his voice tinged with a hint of exhaustion. Layla offered a terse nod in response, her guarded demeanor betraying her reluctance to engage in conversation.

"Layla...Quill," she replied, her tone curt yet tinged with a begrudging politeness. Despite her best efforts to remain aloof, Layla couldn't help but notice the striking abnormality of Owen's eyes—one a vibrant purple, the other a warm brown, with the purple possessing an otherworldly glow.

"Great, now we know each other's names—" Owen paused as he caught Layla staring at his eye, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Oh yeah, I don't have any cool powers. I'm half of whatever my dad was and Terran like my mom," he explained, his tone laced with self-deprecating humor. Layla offered a noncommittal shrug in response, her interest piqued despite herself.

"What about you?" Owen pressed, his attempt to maintain the conversation met with a resigned silence from Layla.

"Full Terran...I think," Layla finally replied, her uncertainty palpable. Owen chuckled softly at her response, a playful glint in his mismatched eyes.

"Lame!" he joked, eliciting an eye roll from Layla as she settled back against the wall. The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, their thoughts drifting amidst the shadows of the cell.

Their tranquility was abruptly shattered by the sudden commotion echoing down the hallway—the sound of raised voices and shuffling footsteps signaling the arrival of chaos. Layla's heart quickened in her chest as she and Owen exchanged a wary glance, their shared apprehension hanging heavy in the air.

Without a moment's hesitation, Layla sprang into action, her instincts urging her to intervene in the unfolding danger. Owen, resigned to her determined course of action, followed suit, his weary demeanor overshadowed by a sense of reluctant solidarity.

As they watched Gamora being held at knife point by a pair of older prisoners, Layla's resolve hardened, her determination unwavering in the face of adversity. With a silent nod to Owen, she steeled herself for the challenges that lay ahead, her every nerve alight with the promise of imminent danger.

Owen's casual remark hung in the air, punctuated by a nonchalant shrug that belied the gravity of the situation unfolding before them. Despite his dismissive demeanor, Layla refused to be swayed by his pessimism, her determination burning bright within her chest.

Ignoring Owen's flippant comment, Layla rose to her feet with purpose, her gaze fixed on the hallway where Gamora had vanished amidst a sea of chaos and danger. Sensing her intent, Owen scrambled to his feet, a mixture of exasperation and begrudging admiration etched across his features.

"You're not gonna follow her, are you?" Owen's incredulous tone bordered on disbelief as he watched Layla prepare to embark on what appeared to be a reckless endeavor. Layla spared him a brief glance, her expression resolute as she met his gaze head-on.

"Someone has to," she replied, her voice firm and unwavering. With a determined nod, Layla turned away from Owen and set off down the dimly lit corridor, her footsteps echoing against the cold stone floor.

Owen shook his head in exasperation, muttering to himself as he reluctantly followed in Layla's wake. "You totally are an idiot, roomy." he muttered under his breath, a begrudging sense of admiration mingling with his frustration. As he trailed behind Layla, Owen couldn't help but marvel at her audacity, even as he silently cursed her stubbornness.

PETER QUILL LAID SQUISHED WITH
many other prisoners, his mind consumed by thoughts of Layla's safety. He shifted uncomfortably, the weight of responsibility bearing down on him as he grappled with the consequences of their predicament. Was she safe? The question reverberated through his mind like a relentless echo, overshadowing any hope of rest.

Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced the oppressive silence, jolting Peter from his restless reverie. He sprang into action, his instincts honed by years of survival in the unforgiving expanse of space. Amidst the chaos, he spotted the unmistakable figure of his daughter, Layla, stealthily navigating the treacherous terrain of the prison.

With determined resolve, Peter maneuvered through the throng of prisoners, his heart pounding in his chest as he closed the distance between himself and Layla. Rocket trailed behind him, his presence a silent testament to their unbreakable bond.

"Layla!" Peter's urgent whisper carried through the tense air as he reached out to grasp her shoulder. Layla whirled around, her reflexes primed for confrontation, only to relax upon recognizing her father's familiar face. A fleeting moment of relief passed between them before Layla swiftly silenced Peter with a finger to her lips.

Gesturing towards the unfolding peril nearby, Layla's eyes blazed with determination as she prepared to intervene. Peter's heart clenched with a mixture of pride and apprehension, his instincts warring against his paternal instincts. With a shared glance, they both knew what needed to be done.

"Women! Your words mean nothing to me!" The menacing figure of a man with ominous markings held a deadly weapon to Gamora's throat, his threats echoing through the tense atmosphere. Undeterred by the danger, Layla sprang into action, her resolve unwavering in the face of adversity.

"Lay!" Peter's urgent whisper barely escaped his lips as Layla jumped from their hiding place, Owen trailing closely behind. Peter knew he had to go too, he followed behind the two kids.

The tense atmosphere in the prison seemed to thicken as all eyes turned towards the trio, their gazes bearing down on Layla with an intensity that made her throat constrict. Nervously, she swallowed, a faint chuckle escaping her lips in an attempt to dispel the palpable tension.

"You know, if your goal is to kill Ronan, this is not the way to go about it," Layla spoke, her voice wavering slightly under the weight of the collective scrutiny. Peter gently reached out to her, seeking to draw her closer, but she pushed him away slightly, resolve unwavering.

The man with the menacing markings fixed Layla with a cold stare, his demeanor icy and foreboding. "Are you not the little girl that this wench attempted to kill?" he inquired, his tone dripping with disdain.

"No, she tried to kill my dad, not me," Layla asserted, her voice steady despite the rising tension. Peter, sensing the weight of the moment, interjected, lifting his shirt to reveal a tapestry of scars etched into his skin.

"Well, I mean, she is hardly the first woman that has tried to kill me or my kid," Peter remarked, his words punctuated by the stark evidence of past encounters with danger. Layla sighed, shooting her father a pointed look as she gestured towards the increasingly agitated man with markings.

"Dad..." she breathed out, her apprehension palpable as she braced herself for the inevitable escalation. Peter nodded in understanding, his expression mirroring Layla's apprehension as he prepared to confront the looming threat head-on.

"Right, you don't care, but here's the point," Peter began, his tone grave as he addressed the enigmatic figure before them.

"...she betrayed Ronan, he's coming back for her," Peter explained, his gestures conveying the imminent danger that loomed on the horizon. With a subtle motion, he mimed the act of slitting someone's throat, a symbolic gesture meant to convey the gravity of their situation.

"What— why would I put my finger in his throat?" the man with markings asked, confusion clouding his features. Peter sighed, exchanging a glance with Layla as they navigated the delicate nuances of communication.

"He means you can slice his throat. That's a symbol for killing. Sorry he does that..." Layla interjected, her voice tinged with a hint of exasperation as she sought to bridge the gap in understanding.

"I would not slice his throat, child. I would cut his head clean off," the man declared with a chilling resolve. Layla instinctively raised her hands defensively, her eyes narrowing with apprehension at the menacing tone.

"It's a general expression for killing someone," Peter interjected, attempting to bridge the gap in understanding. Turning to the other aggressor who had threatened Gamora, he mirrored the gesture, silently conveying the gravity of the situation.

"You've heard— you know what this is," Peter asserted, his voice tinged with urgency as he sought to defuse the escalating tension. The other man nodded in reluctant acknowledgment, his gaze darting between Peter and the man with markings.

"Dad, stop," Layla whispered urgently, her voice tinged with a note of concern. Peter glanced briefly at his daughter before refocusing his attention on the man with markings, his resolve unwavering.

"What I'm saying is, you want to keep her alive. Don't do his work for him," Peter urged, his words carrying a weight of conviction. The man with markings locked eyes with Peter, his expression inscrutable as he deliberated his next move. Layla held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited the outcome.

They both sighed in relief when the man finally relented, releasing his hold on Gamora. "Holy shit..." Layla breathed out, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and disbelief. Peter shot her a warning look, silently cautioning her about her choice of words in the tense situation.

"I like your knife, I'm keeping it," the man with markings declared abruptly, his tone matter-of-fact as he turned and walked away, leaving the trio to process the aftermath of their confrontation.

—

"LISTEN, I COULD CARE LESS
whether you live or whether you die!" Peter's voice reverberated through the confined space, a mixture of frustration and urgency lacing his words as he trailed behind Gamora. Owen and Layla followed closely, silently observing the exchange.

"Then why stop the big guy?" Gamora's question halted their steps, prompting a momentary pause in their progression. Owen leaned in, his voice barely a whisper as he offered Layla a subtle insight.

"Tension..." he murmured, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. Layla couldn't suppress a soft chuckle, acknowledging the strain in the air.

"Simple, you know where to sell the orb," Peter retorted, his tone cutting through the tension with a sharp edge. Layla shot her father a reproachful glance, silently chastising him for the callousness of his words before refocusing on the conversation at hand.

"How are we going to sell it when we and it are still in here?" Gamora's skepticism echoed through the corridor, prompting Peter to meet her gaze with a self-assured grin.

"My friend Rocket here...has escaped twenty-two prisons," Peter declared, casting a meaningful glance towards the diminutive creature at his side.

"Oh, we're getting out," Rocket chimed in confidently, his eyes alight with determination. His gaze then shifted to Layla, a flicker of recognition passing between them as he outlined their plan.

"Then we're heading straight to Yondu to retrieve this kid's bounty," Rocket announced, prompting Layla to roll her eyes in exasperation. She knew all too well that Yondu's bounties often came with strings attached, a fact that Rocket seemed to conveniently overlook.

"You don't find it the least bit suspicious that an older man put a bounty on a younger girl?" Layla interjected, her skepticism palpable as she crossed her arms in defiance.

"Oh, please kid, you probably stole from him or something," Rocket countered dismissively, his tone brimming with confidence. Layla shot him a pointed glare, her frustration evident in her steely gaze.

"Not me," Layla retorted with a shrug, her gaze lingering on her father as she silently dared him to defend Yondu's actions. Peter met her gaze briefly, a flicker of understanding passing between them before he redirected his attention to the conversation at hand.

"Imagine having a bounty on you," Owen interjected with a light-hearted jest, attempting to diffuse the tension with a touch of humor. Layla rolled her eyes at his attempt, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

"Dude, shut up," Layla quipped, her tone tinged with annoyance. Owen flashed her a mischievous smile, undeterred by her rebuke.

"Whatever you say, roomie," he replied with a smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement. Peter observed the interaction between Layla and Owen with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, silently resolving to delve deeper into the enigmatic connection between the two teenagers at a later time. For now, he focused his attention on the task at hand, engaging in conversation with Rocket to formulate their escape plan.

—

a/n

this chapter sucks balls but anyways...

Owen being played by Caleb McLaughlin is so genius cus no one uses him for a faceclaim istg!!!

Anyways sorry I've been procrastinating on my scream fanfic im trying I swear 😭