EVERYBODY WAS SET ON ESCAPING. The bounty on Layla Quill didn't matter to Rocket anymore after he calculated the potential profits from selling the orb. With a determined glint in his eye, Rocket outlined his plan to the group, his voice brimming with confidence and purpose.

"If we're gonna get out, we're gonna need to get into that watchtower, and to do that I'm gonna need a few things," Rocket instructed, striding alongside the others with purpose, his tray of food held firmly in hand. Layla mirrored his movements, her own tray of food untouched and forgotten.

"The guards wear security bands to control their ins and outs. I need one," Rocket demanded, his gaze locking onto Gamora with expectation.

"Leave it to me," Gamora stated confidently, her tone conveying a silent assurance that she would handle the task without fail.

"That dude, there. I need his prosthetic leg," Rocket declared, prompting Owen and Layla to exchange incredulous glances. Peter, ever the voice of reason, voiced his uncertainty.

"His leg?" Peter questioned, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Yeah. God knows I don't need the rest of him, look at him, he's useless," Rocket boldly stated, his tone laced with contempt as he gestured towards their unwitting target.

"All right..." Peter acquiesced, his tone reflecting a mixture of skepticism and resignation.

"And finally, on the wall back there is a back panel. Blinky yellow light, do you see it?" Rocket directed his gaze towards Peter, awaiting confirmation.

"Yeah," Peter affirmed, taking a seat at the table. Layla joined him, positioning herself between her father and Owen. Resting her elbow on the table, she propped her chin up with her hand, her attention drifting away from the adults' conversation.

As Layla zoned out, Owen initiated a conversation, drawing her back into the present moment. "How old are you anyways, roomie?" he inquired, prompting Layla to respond with a soft sigh.

"Thirteen, you?" she replied, her tone tinged with resignation. She didn't even bother to correct Owen's use of the nickname "roomie," a moniker she found irritating but ultimately inconsequential.

"Fourteen...how did you even end up here?" Owen pressed, his curiosity evident in his tone. Layla's expression darkened slightly as she recounted her predicament.

"My dad, he stole from his asshole adopted dad, and now I have to pay for it," Layla explained bitterly, her frustration palpable. Peter interjected, reprimanding Layla for her choice of language.

"Language," he chided, his gaze fixed firmly on his daughter. Layla's brows furrowed in confusion as she protested her innocence.

"What— I didn't even say anything," Layla retorted, her frustration evident in her tone.

"You said, asshole," Peter countered, prompting Layla to vehemently deny the accusation.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yes, you did, you said asshole," Owen chimed in, eager to exacerbate the playful banter between father and daughter. Layla shot him a withering glare, unamused by his attempts to stir up trouble.

Before Layla could engage in further banter, the prison alarm sounded, jolting the group into action. "I guess we're gonna have to wing it and improvise!" Rocket declared, his tone tinged with urgency.

"I'll get the armband," Gamora stated firmly, her determination clear in her voice.

"Leg," Peter affirmed, his resolve unwavering as he prepared to execute their plan.

"What about us?" Owen said, casting a glance at Layla, who stood beside him. Rocket surveyed them both with a calculating gaze, considering his options.

"Both of you go with Quill, and get the leg," Rocket instructed, his voice firm and authoritative. Without hesitation, the teens nodded in agreement and fell into step behind the older Quill. As they dashed down the dimly lit corridors, navigating through the throng of prisoners and guards, Layla and Owen exchanged brief glances, their hearts pounding with adrenaline.

"Looks like our first adventure together, roomie!" Owen remarked with a dashing grin, earning an eye-roll from Layla at the mention of the nickname she despised.

"I already told you my name!" Layla retorted, her voice raised above the chaos of the prison.

"Yeah, I know!" Owen replied, unfazed by her irritation.

When Peter spotted their target, a man sitting calmly in his cell, he gestured for the teens to follow him inside. With a shared understanding, Layla and Owen followed suit, bracing themselves for whatever came next.

"DROP THE LEG!" a guard barked, leveling his gun at Layla and Owen. The teens exchanged a nervous glance, their hands raised in surrender.

"Drop the leg and move back to your cell!" the guard ordered, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. Peter moved with deceptive speed, executing a swift maneuver to disarm the guard with the prosthetic leg before delivering a decisive blow to his face. Layla and Owen watched in awe as Peter swiftly retrieved the guard's blaster, his movements fluid and practiced.

"Holy shit, dad!" Layla exclaimed, her expression a mix of amazement and disbelief. Peter shot her a warning look, chastising her for her language even in the midst of chaos.

"We really need to talk about your language," he admonished, his focus shifting to the looming threat of the approaching drones. "Get behind me, kids!" he commanded, his authoritative tone leaving no room for argument. Layla and Owen obeyed without hesitation, seeking refuge behind Peter as he took aim and fired at the encroaching drones, his precision unwavering even under pressure.

"Alright, let's go!" Peter declared, his tone brimming with determination as he retrieved the prosthetic leg and led the way out of the cell, Layla and Owen trailing close behind.

—

THEY RAN TO THE WATCHTOWER, the urgency of their escape driving their every step. As they began climbing Groot to reach the top, "Stay close! You two Olsen." Peter told the two.

"It's Owen..." Owen muttered under his breath, feeling a twinge of annoyance at being consistently called the wrong name.

"You! Man who has laid with an A'askavariian!" Drax's booming voice echoed through the air, drawing Peter's attention downward.

"It was one time, man..." Peter sighed, his tone tinged with exasperation, as he continued to scale the towering tree-like figure of Groot. When they finally reached the top of the watchtower, they stood together like a formidable band of outlaws, each exuding an aura of determination and defiance.

The man inside the tower raised his hands in surrender as the group entered, but Gamora wasted no time in pushing him aside, with Groot providing the final shove that sent him hurtling out of the tower.

"Spare me your cold gaze, woman," Drax grumbled, his irritation evident as he addressed Gamora.

"Why is this one here?" he demanded, his gaze sweeping over the group.

"We promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss, and I always keep my promises... especially when they involve muscle-bound whack jobs who will kill me if I don't," Peter explained, his tone laced with sarcasm as he tossed the prosthetic leg to Rocket.

"Oh, I was just kidding about the leg, I just needed these two things," Rocket quipped, his laughter ringing out as he revealed his true intentions.

"What?" Peter and the two teens exclaimed simultaneously, their wide-eyed expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"We almost got shot for that thing!" Layla protested, gesturing toward the discarded prosthetic.

"Yeah!" Owen chimed in, nodding in agreement with Layla's sentiment.

"No, I thought it'd be funny... wasn't it funny? Wait, what did he look like hopping around?" Rocket chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the gravity of the situation.

"I had to transfer him thirty-thousand units!" Peter exclaimed, his frustration evident as he recounted the cost of Rocket's prank.

Their banter was abruptly interrupted by the sound of drones approaching, their ominous presence signaling imminent danger. Layla instinctively flinched back, her heart racing with adrenaline.

"How are we even gonna leave?" Drax questioned, his frustration mirroring Layla's own apprehension.

"He's got a plan! Right? Or is that another thing you made up?" Peter retorted, a hint of pettiness creeping into his voice.

"I have a plan! I have a plan!" Rocket insisted, his fingers flying over the controls in a frantic attempt to devise an escape route.

Layla sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a sense of impending doom wash over her. "We're so dead," she muttered under her breath, her gaze drifting toward Gamora, who seemed to share her sentiments.

Despite her apprehension, Layla couldn't help but admire Gamora's unwavering resolve and fearless demeanor. She envied the woman's strength and resilience, wishing she could possess even a fraction of her courage.

"Cease your yammering, and relieve us from this irksome confinement," Drax declared, his words drawing a puzzled look from Layla.

"Yeah, I'll have to agree with the walking thesaurus on that one," Peter remarked, his gaze sweeping over the group. Drax glared at him, his annoyance evident.

"Do not ever call me a thesaurus," Drax growled, his tone laced with menace.

Peter chuckled, attempting to defuse the tension. "It's just a metaphor, dude," he explained, his tone light-hearted.

"His people are completely literal. Metaphors are gonna completely go over his head," Rocket interjected, still engrossed in his attempts to outmaneuver their pursuers.

Drax fixed Rocket with a steely glare. "Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast, I would catch it," he declared, his confidence unwavering.

Layla and Owen exchanged bemused glances, struggling to suppress their laughter at Drax's unintentional humor.

"I'm gonna die surrounded by the brightest idiots in the galaxy," Gamora remarked, her gaze fixed on the chaos unfolding around them. Layla chose to ignore her, her attention consumed by the cacophony of blasts and explosions echoing through the tower.

Layla found herself clinging to her father's arm as she watched the prison guards take aim with their formidable blasters. Peter glanced at Layla before turning his attention to the looming threat.

"Well, those are some big guns," he remarked dryly, his tone tinged with a mixture of apprehension and bravado.

"On my command! Number one!" The commander's voice boomed from below, accompanied by a thunderous blast that reverberated through the watchtower, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the glass.

"Rodent, we are ready for your plan," Gamora called out to Rocket, who was furiously tapping away on the controls. Rocket shifted to the other side of the shuttle, his movements swift and purposeful as he rummaged through a pile of parts.

"Hold on!" Rocket shouted back, his focus unyielding as he searched for the necessary components.

"Number two!" The commander's voice echoed once more, followed by another deafening blast that further splintered the already compromised glass. Peter instinctively pulled Layla closer to him, shielding her from the potential danger.

Drax cast a glance downward at Rocket, his expression a curious mix of disdain and recognition. "I recognize this animal. We would roast them over a flame pit as children," he remarked, his reminiscence punctuated by a hint of nostalgia.

"Not helping!" Rocket snapped, his attention momentarily diverted from his task as he shot a pointed glare at Drax before returning to his work.

"Number three!" The commander's voice rang out again, setting the stage for yet another explosive impact. Layla's nerves were on edge, her grip on her father's arm tightening as she braced herself for the onslaught.

Boom!

The resounding blast sent shockwaves through the air, prompting Gamora to recoil instinctively. The glass shattered further, fracturing into a kaleidoscope of jagged shards that danced in the air like deadly confetti.

"All fire on my command!" the commander bellowed, his voice infused with urgency as tension mounted within the watchtower. Layla felt a sense of foreboding settle over her as she awaited the final, decisive moment.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

But to everyone's surprise, the anticipated shot never came. Instead, Layla watched in awe as the men below were lifted into the air, suspended by an invisible force.

"Holy shit..." Layla breathed, her eyes wide with wonder at the unexpected turn of events. Peter shot her a reproachful look, reminding her to watch her language even in the midst of chaos.

Gamora, too, was taken aback by the spectacle unfolding before her. "He turned off the artificial gravity, everywhere but in here," she explained, her voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and admiration.

Rocket grunted with exertion as he pulled down a lever, initiating their ascent into the air. Layla struggled to maintain her balance as the shuttle soared skyward, the sudden shift in gravity catching her off guard.

For a moment, exhilaration coursed through Layla's veins as she marveled at their airborne escape. But her excitement was short-lived as the situation took a sudden turn for the worse.

As Rocket continued to manipulate the controls, a sudden jolt sent them careening off course, their trajectory becoming increasingly erratic with each passing moment. Layla clung to the control panel for dear life, her heart pounding in her chest as they hurtled through the air with reckless abandon.

When they finally came to a stop, Layla released a shaky breath, her nerves frazzled from the harrowing ordeal. Rocket hastily sealed the door behind them, his expression a mix of frustration and determination.

"Well, that was a pretty good plan," Peter remarked, his sarcasm evident as he surveyed the chaotic aftermath of their escape attempt.

As they regrouped, Layla followed her father to retrieve their belongings, her hands trembling slightly as she pulled on her jacket. Peter's sympathetic glance did little to ease her unease, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Gamora approached them, her impatience palpable as she urged them to retrieve the orb and depart. But Peter's sudden revelation gave pause to their plans, his realization dawning on them with alarming clarity.

"That bastard didn't put it back," Peter exclaimed, his frustration evident as he rummaged through his belongings in search of the missing artifact.

"What do you mean?" Gamora inquired, her tone tinged with concern.

Peter handed Layla his bag, a sense of urgency in his gaze. "I need you to get them to the ship. I'll be right back," he instructed, his determination unwavering despite the gravity of the situation.

Layla shook her head in disbelief, her frustration mounting at her father's stubbornness. "You can't be serious right now," she protested, her voice tinged with exasperation.

But Peter's resolve was unwavering as he pressed a quick kiss to Layla's forehead before darting off in pursuit of the missing orb. "Now go," he urged, his voice tinged with urgency.

Reluctantly, Layla complied, watching her father's retreating figure with a mixture of concern and admiration. "That idiot," she muttered under her breath, a mixture of frustration and affection evident in her tone.

THE PASSAGE SEEMED TO STRETCH
on endlessly as Layla anxiously awaited her father's return. Initially hopeful, her optimism began to wane with each passing moment, replaced by a growing sense of angst that manifested in the rhythmic tapping of her knee. It was a subconscious gesture, one she only became aware of when Owen placed a reassuring hand on her knee, prompting her to stop.

"He's gonna be back," Owen reassured her, his voice a comforting presence amidst the rising tension. Layla nodded, though inwardly, doubt gnawed at her resolve. Did she truly believe her father would return unscathed?

Rocket's frustrated ranting broke through the tense atmosphere, his anger palpable as he berated Peter for his reckless actions. Layla couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that her father's impulsive decision had put them all in jeopardy.

"Well, how's he gonna get to us?" Rocket's question hung in the air, unanswered and ominous. Layla felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her worry escalating with each passing second.

"He decided not to tell us," Layla admitted, her voice tinged with frustration and apprehension. The uncertainty of their situation weighed heavily on her mind, casting a shadow over their already precarious circumstances.

Rocket's frustration boiled over, his exasperation evident as he slammed his hand against the dash of the ship. Layla flinched at the sudden outburst, her nerves frayed by the escalating tension.

"He took it with," Layla revealed, a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She had recently discovered her father's ploy to ensure their compliance, and though she couldn't condone his deception, she couldn't help but admire his ingenuity.

Rocket's reaction was swift and visceral, his anger directed at Peter for his betrayal. Layla watched as Rocket pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, his frustration mirroring her own.

An uneasy silence settled over the group, punctuated only by the soft hum of the ship's engines. Gamora's voice cut through the tension, her resolve unwavering as she asserted their need to retrieve the orb before fleeing.

But then, a glimmer of hope appeared on the horizon as a familiar figure approached the ship. Layla's heart leaped with joy at the sight of her father, relief washing over her in waves.

As Peter stepped onto the ship and removed his mask, Layla wasted no time in rushing to his side, her arms enveloping him in a tight embrace. Peter returned the embrace, his warmth a soothing balm against Layla's frayed nerves.

"Don't ever do that," Layla mumbled into his chest, her voice muffled by the fabric of his suit. Peter chuckled softly, his fingers gently brushing against her hair as he offered words of comfort. She melted further in the hug.

"Sorry," Peter murmured, his apology laced with genuine remorse. Despite the danger he had placed them in, Layla couldn't help but forgive him, knowing that his actions were driven by a desire to protect them. Peter took in the hug, understanding that these things were rare now that she was a mean teenager.

—

a/n:

Y'all...I'm making Gamora a mother figure...

Anyways, I'm gonna start writing longer chapters I think so if you don't like that tell me, idk what y'all prefer so pls say something.

Anyways byeee 😘✌️