Tony would die before admitting it, but sometimes he was glad that Stakar Ogord had picked a lonely looking kid up from earth. He'd bitched about it to the guy a lot, but he'd also always been grateful to just leave earth behind. He had no connections to anyone but Howard and Maria and they couldn't care less about him if they tried. Jarvis had died, finally resting alongside his wife. Aunt Peggy had contracted dementia and as horrible as Howard was, Tony knew he truly cared about the fiery British woman. He'd take care of her.

So really, there was nothing keeping on earth.

True, he'd been taken against his will, technically, but did it really count as kidnapping if he wanted to stay? Or was it just Stockholm Syndrome?

He didn't think it mattered. Not anymore.

So, instead, once he realized that, no, the Ravagers weren't actually going to eat him, he began to learn. Space technology was light years ahead of anything they had on earth and Tony revelled in it, eagerly drinking in all the knowledge that was suddenly accessible to him.

He learned and he grew. He became known across the galaxy as Iron Man, the Ravager who hid an armour of star-stones underneath his skin.

Years after his kidnapping, as a young man, he met Yondu's faction, including his own kidnapped human: Peter Quill.

While the captains were busy in their meeting, Tony, bored out if his mind, turned to the slightly younger man. "Wanna get out of here?"

Peter raises an eyebrow. "Are we allowed?"

He shrugged. "No. But that's half the fun, trust me."

Peter hesitated. But he was bored too and maybe, it was the fact that Tony was the first human he'd seen in years, or that the deep brown eyes staring at him were sparkling with the reflected stars- Peter would never know for sure- but he found himself taking the outstretched hand. "Let's go, then."