A few days later, it was time to visit Earth. Peter had been staying up late each night, trying to fill in the gaps of his knowledge. He wasn't about to let his friends think he was anything less than an expert about his home planet. The rest of the cosmos didn't keep close tabs on Earth, but a few of the other planets in the Milky Way had some history documented, as well as technological advancements.

Sleeping less also gave him more time to adjust to his body. At first he felt heavier, but quickly realized he weighed about the same, it just felt different. Hearing the occasional metallic whirring from within himself took more getting used to than anything else. Rocket had assessed that the cybernetic implants could potentially be removed, but it would be risky and excruciatingly painful. The decision would be held off until after their little trip.

Peter, attempting to hide his excitement under false seriousness, addressed the group in the Milano's common area. It was time for his brilliant plan. "The reason we're going to Earth today is because it's a holiday called Halloween. People, mostly kids but adults do too, dress up in costumes. They pretend to be monsters, aliens, heroes, and stuff. So everyone will just think you are in a costume and not actually aliens."

"What purpose do these illusory garments serve?" Drax questioned.

The human wondered what kinds of traditions The Destroyer's planet celebrated. "Well, kids in costume go from door-to-door and get free candy. Other than that it's just for fun."

Rocket's ears perked up. "Did you say free candy?"

"Isn't chocolate poisonous to you?" Peter asked, giving him a skeptical look.

The raccoon had the same facial expression. "Yeah, and?"

"Most Earth candy is made of chocolate."

At that, Rocket's lips pulled into a snarl and he spat on the floor. "That's disgusting, Quill."

Peter rolled his eyes and faced his tattooed compatriot. "Drax, do you own any shirts? At all?"

"I do not. They aren't necessary." The mountain of a man shifted his weight as he spoke. He seemed unusually guarded. There must have been another, more embarrassing reason for his constant shirtlessness.

"I'll have to buy you one. Most places on my planet have rules that everyone needs to be wearing a shirt and shoes. Bottoms too, but that's a given. Groot gets a pass because he looks like an elaborate costume. We need to be on our best behavior. Nothing illegal." Getting arrested on Earth would be a major problem, risking being discovered as aliens.

"I hate shoes," complained Rocket.

"It's either that or you get put on a leash," Peter warned. The raccoon folded his arms and huffed. "That's what I thought. Also, with your translator implants, you guys'll understand the humans, but they won't understand you. So just let me do all the talking." He wasn't completely sure that was how the translators worked, but he remembered not knowing what the Ravagers were saying until his own device was installed.

He sat alone in the common area, fiddling with a Rubix Cube. A call came in, Starfox's face shown on the screen. "Hello lad."

"Hi dad," Peter said bitterly as he glared at his irresponsible, absent father.

The puppy-dog-eyes look must have been hereditary, as Starfox gave a very pleading look. "Son, I owe you an apology."

"Damn right you do. Using your powers on me? That's sick."

"I only-"

"I'm not done," Peter interrupted. "When Thanos kidnapped me, Yondu helped get me back. That's more than I can say for you, you didn't do anything."

The father's face hardened. "Yondu is a terrible man."

"You're worse. He acts like he doesn't, but he cares about me. You don't."

"Of course I do, you're my son."

"If you really cared about me, you would have picked me up yourself instead of hiring someone else to do it. I don't even wanna hear your excuse, I'm sure it's something along the lines of 'I had to be on some pleasure planet.' You abandoned us, and I don't want anything to do with you."

"Peter, ple-" The call was cut before he could finish.

A few hours later, the human was steering the ship to the planet he came from. Rocket sat in the co-pilot's seat monitoring the area. "Quill, we're being followed. It's a Nova cruiser."

Peter called someone on the comm system and a familiar Nova Corps officer appeared on the screen. "Dey, there's a Nova ship tailing us. Wanna tell me why?"

"That's me, but I'm not -following- you, we just happen to be going in the same direction." Dey's gaze shifted around and his voice was slightly shaky. He was a terrible liar.

Quill raised an eyebrow. "You and I both know you'd rather be spending time with your family than stalking us. Is this about the brainwashing thing? Because you know I'm not dangerous."

The cop sighed heavily. "I know that, and Nova Prime knows that, but a lot of the others...they're scared of you. What if it happens again or something similar? Also, where exactly are you going?"

"Earth. You aren't gonna stop me. I need to go back, just for a day."

Dey reeled back in surprise. "Are you sure that's wise? It's not technically legal either. I'm sure Nova Prime would make an exception for you because you're from Terra, but the level of-"

"I've already got that covered. Today's an Earth holiday where lots of people dress up in weird costumes. No worries." He smiled, hoping his confidence would reassure their friend on the force. They were going to Earth whether the Nova Corps approved or not, but he didn't want to burn that bridge if he didn't have to.

Rocket jumped out of his seat and climbed onto Peter's lap, standing on the man's legs so he would be seen on Dey's screen. "Enough about that, did you find anything out?"

The human had gotten used to the small mammal invading his personal space by now. How ironic, the one who most hated being touched was frequently touching everyone else.

"Not yet. I'll contact you as soon as I hear anything. Anyway, don't go causing any intergalactic incidents, okay? I hope you know what you're doing. Be careful," the cop begged with insistence.

The call ended as Peter gave a curious look to the raccoon standing in his lap. "Rocky, what was that all about?"

Rocket turned around to face him, frowning. "Don't call me that. It's not important."

"Like hell it isn't. You never told me what happened with that imposter you or whatever. You went back to Halfworld and something happened, but you won't talk about it." They all had secrets, and even Peter had kept quite a bit from his friends, especially when it came to his mom. But for a team to work, they needed to trust each other, and it was clear that the furry one in particular had major trust issues.

"We fought, and he's currently in Nova Corps custody. Lylla's safe. That's all you gotta know," the raccoon insisted as he climbed down from Peter's lap.

"When you're ready to talk about it, I'm here. We all are."

After activating the cloaking gear, they landed in a large clearing in a forest on Earth. Peter hadn't really cared what state they landed in as long as it wasn't Missouri. He couldn't handle the inevitable lecture from Drax about finding whatever family he might still have, especially since he wouldn't know how to find them.

Many trees had already lost their leaves, but the ones that hadn't displayed vibrant colors. Fiery reds, brilliant oranges, earthy yellows, and verdant greens stood in stark contrast to the gray overcast sky. They all took in the sights, in awe.

Naturally, Rocket was the first to break the peaceful silence as they walked into town. "This place is kinda like Procyon, only not disgustingly pink. So where do we get Egg McMuffins?"

"I hate to break it to you, but they only serve them in the morning, we're too late. I promise we'll get some before we leave tomorrow." Peter was sure that he could hear low growling in response.

It was different, but not by much. Cars were sleeker, but they still drove on the road on four wheels. Cascading leaves drifted down in the breeze, littering the sidewalk.

Peter had seen enough fish-out-of-water comedies about time travelers or aliens to know that he needed to blend in, act as if none of this information was new. The others could be partially explained away as foreigners, and children in Rocket and Groot's case.

The time was around noon, too late for fast-food breakfast and too early for Halloween costumes, though that didn't stop some people. His plan was working. Most people regarded them with little more than mild disinterest, and perhaps some condescension for fully-grown adults to be so heavily costumed at this hour.

Gamora wore a slight smile. "It reminds me of Xandar. It is nice."

Drax, on the other hand, appeared to be unamused. "I thought you said this was a planet of outlaws. These appear to be peaceful law-abiding citizens."

"Looks can be deceiving, and the outlaw thing was...an exaggeration," Peter admitted in a casual tone.

The assassin looked at him harshly. "How many other things that you've told us about Terra have been 'exaggerations?'"

Peter entered the store and bought a solid black t-shirt for Drax, one that looked almost the right size. That was still cheap, but prices seemed much higher than his time on the planet. Luckily, when exchanging his units for dollars, he knew to adjust for inflation. He didn't want to leave his friends unattended, knowing their penchant for finding trouble. His worries were for nothing, as the four of them were just standing outside of the shop, talking to each other. The shirt stretched around Drax's muscles, it was just big enough.

As they entered the store together and grabbed a cart, Peter read the signs to find the entertainment section. He had learned on the datastream that videocassettes had been replaced with discs. To his shock, many franchises from his childhood had been remade or had a new iteration. Robocop, Transformers, Ninja Turtles, Smurfs, and the list went on. Any movie he thought was interesting went into the cart, along with a cheap DVD player that he would coerce Rocket into hotwiring into the ship. Several of the movies were for kids, but Peter didn't care. Movies aimed at children would in theory be less likely to remind the group of their traumatic pasts, or at least do so in a less disturbing way. A welcome distraction from when things get rough, as they inevitably would.

"Peter, I am disappointed." Gamora glared at him as she held the DVD case for Footloose, her voice dripping with malice. He was terrified for his life. "Kevin Bacon is no hero. He is a mere performer."

"I didn't lie, exactly, I just stretched the truth a little. And he's still a hero. Come on, you can't tell me you guys haven't ever lied. Well I could believe it for Drax and Groot."

Rocket shrugged. "Even Groot lies. One time he told me he was a king, he ain't."

"I am Groot," the tree drooped as he spoke in an apologetic tone.

"Why are there two versions of Footloose?" Gamora held another case in her other hand.

"Let me see that." They remade Footloose. His childhood was officially ruined.

With a sizable movie collection in the cart, Peter looked at the audio area. The headphones were either oversized monstrosities or so tiny that they fit inside the ear. A few were similar to his, small with foam padding, but made of plastic.

They moved on to the clothing. After Peter vaguely explained the sizing to her, Gamora went to the ladies section on her own. Drax and Groot wandered at a short distance. In the children's section, the human picked out sleepwear in what looked like the raccoon's size, a zippered onesie in blue depicting rockets and stars.

The raccoon sneered. "I'm not wearing that," he said in disgust.

"Of course you are. You've been complaining about wanting new jammies, and these have rockets all over them. Also it's the manliest one they have." Into the cart it went. Peter was enjoying this a little too much.

Rocket held a few items against himself to guess his size. He tossed a pair of orange cargo shorts and a black hoodie into the cart.

Gamora returned with a cozy blue sweater and a pair of black skinny jeans.

Next they selected food. Peter picked items out while the others were curious to what everything was.

"I bet Terrans have stupid names for everything," Rocket said as they were in the grocery aisle. "What's this called?" He picked up an orange.

"An orange. It's a fruit." Peter fumbled through his mind trying to recall a food in space that had a comparable flavor.

"HAHAHA. I rest my case. You have fruits named after colors? What do reds, blues, and blacks taste like?" The raccoon had a smug grin plastered on his face.

"Just oranges, other fruits aren't named after colors. Actually I think here the color was named after the fruit. Everyone just lumped it in with red for a long time."

They returned to the Milano with their spoils. Peter instructed Drax on how to make hamburgers, since The Destroyer was the only Guardian truly capable of cooking a decent meal.

Gamora took a bite, and her eyes were like saucers. "This is most delicious."

"Eh, it's edible," said the raccoon. He took a swig from his bottle of beer and immediately spat it out onto Groot. "Sorry buddy. What is this swill? Tastes like watered-down svarlack piss."

Peter grimaced. "It's beer. I don't even wanna know why you've tasted that."

"Doesn't taste like any beer I've ever had. I lost a bet."

The drink did not have quite the same flavor as most space beer, and it seemed far less potent, but he didn't think it was bad or drastically different. Maybe raccoons had more sensitive tastebuds or something.

That evening, after Peter explained and showed many aspects of Earth to his friends and they enjoyed the town, the half-human walked down the sidewalk with Rocket. The rest of the group were back on the ship.

The raccoon looked down as he scuffed the pavement with his feet. "This planet isn't terrible," he muttered. His tail was drooped, gathering leaves.

"I knew you'd like it. But why do you look so miserable?"

Rocket stopped walking and stared at him. "Quill, Terra is doomed. It's been infiltrated by a dangerous alien race called the Flerken."

Peter sat down on the grass next to the sidewalk, putting himself closer to the small mammal's eye level. "Funny. I'll play along."

The raccoon began to fume. "I'm serious! They've conquered a bunch of worlds by pretending to be domesticated pets. They're vicious beasts with portals to pocket dimensions in their stomachs, and internal tentacles. They lay eggs in mass quantities. Normally I'd kill them on sight, but it's way too late."

"What, exactly, is a Flerken?"

Rocket rigidly pointed to a stray cat. "That. That is a Flerken."

"The planet isn't doomed, Rocket. Cat's don't lay eggs. Or have tentacles."

"You're positive?"

"As sure as my name's Peter. What's next, are you going to tell me that dogs are alien masterminds too?"

The raccoon relaxed somewhat and sat next to the man. "No, dogs are just evil incarnate."

Peter smiled. "Here we call them 'man's best friend.'"

"I take it back, this planet is terrible."

The earthling laid back in the grass, looking into the cloudy sky. "You know, when I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to come back here, to come home. You have no idea how many times I whined and begged to Yondu. Eventually, I didn't want to return. And now that I have, I know for sure that this isn't our home anymore. Either of us. We don't belong here." Being back was nice, but perhaps his obsession with old Earth objects was more due to his memories than the planet itself, and those memories he would never be able to live through again.

The raccoon opened his mouth as if to object to the notion that he was originally from Earth, but he shut his jaw and merely nodded.

They returned to the ship, the cozy Milano that had withstood more of their antics than anywhere else. It was the one location that they were truly free to be themselves. Drax was making pizza for dinner, and Peter had bought ice cream for dessert. Rocket was complaining as he was hooking the DVD player up to the ship's systems. Star-Lord smiled as he sat on the couch in the common area, between Gamora and Groot.

Their first-ever movie night was a mixed bag, as the others were thoroughly confused by Footloose, particularly Gamora. Even if they didn't admit it, they all seemed to take comfort in the fact that it was the first of many movie nights to come.

In the morning, the human went to McDonald's before they left and got Egg McMuffins for everyone. And extras for Rocket that would need to be put under genetic lock-and-key because the raccoon had a problem.

As they left Terra's atmosphere, Peter came to the realization that neither he nor Rocket needed to go looking for a home, literally or metaphorically. Where they came from didn't matter anymore. Halfworld, Procyon, Earth/Terra. The Milano was where they belonged. That ship had been their home the whole time, all of them. Dorothy was right, there was no place like home.

~The end~

Thank you for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites! I really appreciate it!

Please let me know what you would like to see in a potential sequel. If romance, between who? Should Blackjack's (conveniently offscreen) death have been a ruse? More Missile, or has he deviated to the point of being a bad OC?