There hadn't ever been another child in sight, not after Yondu had delivered the second child and expected to see the first running around dusty rose-colored plains, or after the third, the fourth… but the unease over that that continued to grow in Yondu's belly like weeds growing to infest a garden, had not prevented Yondu from delivering a fifth child to Ego's planet.

Internally, Yondu pitted his inability to back out of his transactional relationship with the celestial on a variety of reasons, chief among them that while Yondu never saw the other children he'd delivered to Ego, that that didn't mean anything bad had happened to them.

Ego was an entire planet, and his bipedal, fleshy incarnation appeared somewhat fake, but benevolent. He was just an ancient being living on the outskirts of the galaxy – just a man who wanted his children beside him, safe and free to grow up big and strong on their very own planet.

And Yondu figured that that was good enough to keep delivering.

The fifth child – their fifth transaction – had been delivered like promised, with the feline-looking boy falling into Ego's arms as if he'd known the man his entire life (which he should've). And Ego had thanked Yondu profusely, shaking Yondu's rough hand with his own (artificial) hand and commending him on his timely delivery. All while Yondu's attention diverted from Ego's (tired, seemingly rehearsed) words and centered on a tiny figure standing next to them.

It was a little girl. A little girl was standing there, hands folded carefully in front of her. She had not moved a muscle since the Ravagers' arrival, nor had she opened her mouth to say a word to either himself nor the kid he'd just delivered.

And Yondu could not remember a time when he'd seen that little girl ever before. He sure as hell had never delivered her to Ego.

"Ego" Yondu began when all the geniality and sentimental spiel was over and done with. "I jus' remembered I ain't never had a tour o' yer fine planet before…"

His opener was clumsy as shit, but Ego wasn't all that good at articulating the nuances of sentient interaction (even when he was older than sin).

"Ah! I'm glad you've finally come to your senses, Captain!" Ego beamed. "I'd be happy to give you one! I'm afraid, however, that this little one will need to be shown to his new room."

The Centaurian could've gagged as Ego cuddled and tickled the fifth child – the scene was too saccharine (and made his stomach turn). But what mattered most was that Ego fell into Yondu's trap, like a fly caught in a spider's web.

"As luck would have it though," Ego turned back to the Ravager. "I'm sure our little friend Mantis wouldn't mind filling in for me."

He finally acknowledged the little girl that had continued to stand a polite distance away, and she walked up to them promptly, as a dog would when called over. Her head bowed toward Ego and then toward Yondu. "I would be happy to assist Captain Udonta."

Ego had kept beaming, and after a few more courtesies (and a wave goodbye from the fifth child that caused Yondu's chest to tighten up painfully) walked back toward his fortress, leaving Yondu and Mantis to an apprehensive silence.

Yondu was not a man known for eloquent words or grandiose speeches, not unless he had to be. Yet he knew that, when dealing with little buggers like the one in front of him, one had to be careful to not scare 'em off.

"Hey there, girl." He greeted, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

"Hello." She replied, bowing her head again quickly. Her eyes were too big to hide the look of nervousness and distress emanating from within, even when she did her best to stay neutral.

"I got a question for you. Jus' you." He had absolutely no intention of taking a formal stroll around. The captain knelt on the fine soil to better get on the little girl's level when he was sure that Ego was out of sight.

"You seen any other kids runnin' around this planet since you got here?" He'd just about forgotten the name of the girl, but was relieved (and growing uncomfortable) over not having to implore her further when she shook her head.

"You seen any kids at all?" He pressed gently, ducking to get her attention up off the ground.

"I…" Mantis opened her mouth, then closed it. Yondu could already see the beginnings of tears. Ego may have tried something new with this kid, may have tried to train her to act like a perfect servant, but the child in front of him was still a child.

He reached toward the little girl and placed a hand on her shoulder – to let her know that he wanted an answer (to let her know that it was safe and she could tell him). When she finally looked up, tears were already streaking down her face. She wiped them away before they fell to the floor and nodded.

"Can ya show me where they are?" He asked.

It hadn't taken much to spirit the little insect girl away from Ego's planet, not after she'd broken down once they'd reach the cavern of children's bones. Perhaps the other children (four being delivered by himself) had gotten a taste of fatherly affection from Ego, but there was no love lost between him and Mantis. Yondu had carried her away when he was certain that Ego's manifested persona was not keen on them (although he could never be fully certain), and they had rocketed off in the Eclector without a moment's notice.

Initially it had seemed far too easy, and the atmosphere on the ship had been intense for days with the potential for Ego to appear at every jump they made. Yondu's own mood dipped between tense and nauseous, knowing that his hasty decision had had its consequences even if Ego never came looking. The fifth child had been left behind, to be preyed upon the moment he was within Ego's clutches. His celestial (murderer) father's fixation on the little boy upon delivery had been the key to Yondu making a getaway after being led into Ego's core.

Yondu knew he did not deserve forgiveness for what he had done, but wallowed in self-hatred all the while, until Mantis – tucked in at his side since day one – buried her face against him and whimpered. She'd reach for his hand and clasp it between her own, to ease his mind without being ordered or even asked to.

The days waxed and waned, until the Ravager crew were just as bawdy and raucous as ever once again and it was almost like nothing had happened.

Almost.

Ego had called, not three weeks since they'd delivered the fifth boy, and gave the name and location of another child which Ego had just so happened to spawn on a backwater planet known as Terra.

There was no mention of the little boy with whiskers and six fingers and toes, nor any sight of him on the holocom.

There was also no mention of Mantis (whom had been hidden away from the bridge before the call was picked up), or any reaction concurrent with her being missed or missing.

Yondu had signed off with a promise of exchanged units that he would never see in his bank account, and a date of delivery that he was never going to fulfill.

The girl liked to sit next to him when the day was out. She had made a habit of sitting in one of the co-pilot seats with something warm wrapped around her shoulders, be it a threadbare blanket or a jacket that looked like it had belonged to Kraglin, and look out at the stars with him. He didn't begrudge her that, although the day usually ended with her curled up next to him, head in his lap while he patted her hair and told her stories of constellations and of other worlds he'd been to that she might see now that she could.

There was no sense in hiding information concerning Ego or his children. She knew everything, even more than Yondu himself, he'd reckoned.

"We're goin' to get one o' those kids that that jackass commissioned me for, and we're gonna bring 'em aboard jus' like we did wit' you." Yondu filled the quiet, staring intently at the expanse of stars ahead of them.

There was a tense pause following his words, and the Ravager could practically feel Mantis's gaze as she turned to him in her chair.

"You will not deliver him to Ego?" Mantis questioned. Her diction was stiflingly proper, even after living among the Ravagers.

Yondu started. "Him?"

Mantis was looking at him with those enormous eyes raptly, as he'd suspected. "Yes. Ego wants you to bring his son to him. His son is named Peter Quill and he is eight standard years old. Peter is from Terra."

She went on at Yondu's questioning stare. "Ego spoke of Peter Quill and his mother more than he had ever spoken of his children before."

Yondu sat, completely silent, for some time before he gathered himself. "Tha's right."

"You want me to calm him when he is brought on board." Mantis continued with a nod (Yondu's chest tightened up again – in that instant, he knew he hated to be addressed like he was on Ego's level).

"You gotta earn yer keep, girl." Yondu replied. After a moment, he added, "I don't want you usin' yer powers for it, though."

The girl had already jumped out of her seat before she looked up at him. The confusion was clear on her pale face.

"I jus' want ya to be wit' me when we meet him." Yondu elaborated. It did nothing to dull Mantis's confusion over not being ordered to use her abilities, but Yondu didn't have the patience to put it in simpler terms. She was just going to have to learn his plan when they picked Mister Quill up from the dirtball known as Terra.

Yondu had only just gotten a look at the boy when the M-Ship he'd sent out had been cleared to return their hangar. His first impression was of a scrawny, skinny, sobbing mess of a child with a nice little shiner over one eye and finicky little knapsack over his shoulders (he was an adorable little bugger too).

Mantis was there too. She stood behind Yondu, clutching at his coat like it was a shield. Her inherent curiosity overrode some of that frightened instinct, prompting Mantis to just peek out from behind the Captain to get a look at the crying boy that was Peter Quill. But only just.

When talking at the kid didn't work, and threatening him into reason only made Peter scream and wail harder, Yondu shook his head before he coaxed Mantis out and led her to the tantrum-ing boy.

Mantis greeted Peter with the same nervousness that she had once greeted Yondu with. "Hello, Peter Quill."

Peter looked in her general direction from where he was situated on the grate floor of the hangar, knees drawn up to his chin as if he could cage himself in and keep the rest of this terrifying new world out. Yondu, for his part, hung back and watched – ready to act if the kid suddenly grew a backbone and tried something.

"I am called Mantis." The little girl said, slowly and carefully as if she were afraid that Peter would scream and wail if she didn't take proper precaution.

"Like… like the bug?" Peter sniffed loudly after a long, silent moment of gaping at Mantis like fish.

Her head tilted to the side in confusion. "What is a bug?"

Peter stared at her, an expression of bewilderment morphing onto his reddened, tear-stained face. He was at a loss as to how to explain the concept of bugs to this weird, kind of scary-looking alien girl, and Yondu found himself relating to Peter's incomprehension. Mantis was so very sheltered that there were times when even Yondu had no idea how to handle her. He, however, normally foisted her on someone else like Tullk or Narblik if he wasn't in the mood to put up with the girl's ignorance.

Peter had no subordinates, and the none-too subtle glance from him at Yondu assured the Captain that Peter understood that he wasn't going to get out of talking with her.

Mantis wasn't put out by the lack of explanation. She must've expected it at this point, believing that all people acted like Ego and only spoke to her to order her around. Instead, she moved to sit down beside Peter, and frowned.

"Why do you cry?" She asked.

The question caused a myriad of expressions to ghost over the Terran's face, but he ultimately clammed up again. It didn't deter Mantis in the slightest.

"You do not have to tell me." Mantis assured him, to save him from embarrassment. She was starting to learn that most people did not like it when you blurted out what they were feeling. "I can sense it for myself, if you like."

"What does that even mean?" Peter moaned unexpectedly, momentarily burying his face between his knees.

"If I touch you, I can feel what you feel." Mantis said.

Peter sniveled back the rest of his tears and stared at her with narrowed eyes. "You got superpowers, like a x-men?"

Yondu winced where he stood (what the hell was an 'x-men'?). He could see the plain distrust intermixed with curiosity in the boy's expression, and felt unsettled over how world-weary the boy already was. The ravager had a hunch that simply being brought aboard the ship wasn't the only thing that had Peter Quill pitch such a fit beforehand. Still, Yondu kept it to himself.

"May I?" Mantis asked, already holding a hand out and reaching toward Peter.

Objectively it would do Peter Quill good to not go around putting stock in strangers, even if it rubbed Yondu the wrong way. Yondu thanked his lucky stars, however, when he watched as Peter let curiosity win him over and Mantis rested her hand on his.

Until, Peter jumped where he sat and flinched away from Mantis as if she'd lost her mind when she began weeping. "What? What's wrong wit' her?!

He looked around wildly, gaze landing on Yondu whom had forced himself to remain rooted where he stood. Peter gaped at him, imploring him to give him an answer.

"Girl's just doin' what comes natural." Yondu said, folding his arms.

"What?" Peter stressed.

Yondu sighed. "Don' act so shocked, boy. You was bawlin' not two seconds ago yerself."

Peter Quill had the gall to glare at the Ravager captain with contempt over that, and Yondu couldn't help grinning at the sight. He flashed enough teeth to appear malevolent when, inside, he was relieved to see that there was attitude in the kid. Even if it'd been only a glare at authority, it was a start.

The glare morphed back into a look of discomfort. Mantis hadn't stopped crying during that minute exchange, and it clearly bothered Peter.

He had no idea why she'd started crying in the first place, but he was his mother's son and couldn't quite accept seeing the girl upset. "Hey… hey, please don't cry."

Peter thought, then reached over and into the bag that he'd brought with him. He pulled out a strangely-shaped object and gestured to Mantis with it.

"Here. You wanna listen? It'll make you feel better, maybe. Always makes me feel better… Almost always…" Peter sniffled, wiping his nose on one of his sleeves before holding the object out and placing it on top of the other child's head.

"Oh!" Immediately, Mantis froze in the middle of her crying. Her hands flew up, but Mantis stopped just short of touching the headphones. She looked at Peter, still teary-eyed and frozen in that pose, as though she was unsure she could touch his things.

It didn't seem possible, but to Peter it looked as if the girl's eyes had gotten wider and shinier.

"It's music." Peter said.

"Music…" Mantis sounded out. She touched the earphones tentatively, only to press them more snuggly to her ears. "What do I do with it?"

Peter's nose scrunched, as though he hadn't ever heard such a question before.

"Um, it's just for listenin'. You listen to it." He explained slowly. He nodded for effect, to let her know that she was doing the right thing. Mantis blinked before she nodded back, completely in-sync with Peter's motions.

Yondu, whom had remained in the background during their conversation, resisted the urge to snort at seeing these two little weirdos he had no choice but to keep aboard. They'd have to become part of the crew, sooner rather than later, if suspicion among the rest of his men could be quelled before it began. As he thought it over, Yondu believed that it'd be easier to put the Terran boy to work – he was small and skinny, and would be able to fit into places that the rest of the Ravagers couldn't. But the girl child would have a harder time, for several reasons. She, too, was small and skinny, but her abilities could get in the way if she were to accidentally touch someone and alert them of her presence.

He'd have to teach her how to use her Empathic powers strategically, and have some gloves tailored for her.

Yondu's head snapped up, attention returning to the kids as they continued to sit on the grated floor next to one another. The music box-thing that filtered music out into those headphones that Mantis was still wearing was now held between them, with Peter showing her where all the noise came from and how to start and stop it.

By the end of his explanation, Mantis was fully entranced. Her head just barely bobbed to the rhythm of what she heard, antennae waving with the movement. She sighed blissfully as she just listened, then turned to Peter with smiling black eyes.

"Music is beautiful."

The Terran boy beside her still looked worn from the hell he'd been through, but Peter managed a smile for Mantis and her new discovery.

And Yondu figured that that was good enough.