In the common area of the prison, you, Gamora, Peter, and Rocket gather around a table. Groot stands idly by in the distance, not paying any attention to your crucial discussion. You're all composing a plan to break out. Rocket, who has escaped twenty-two prisons, is the one who devises a plan while the rest of you take orders.

"If we're gonna get out of here, we're gonna need to get into that watchtower," Rocket tells you. The watchtower stands in the middle of the prison, certainly the most guarded area. "And to do that, I'm gonna need a few things," he continues. "The guards wear security bands to control their ins and outs. I need one."

"Leave it to Y/N and me," Gamora says.

You and Rocket nod in response. He then gestures toward a prisoner who is wobbly walking along with a prosthetic leg. "That dude, there, I need his prosthetic leg."

"His leg?" Peter inquiries, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Rocket replies. "God knows I don't need the rest of him. Look at him, he's useless."

"All right."

"And finally, on the wall back there is a black panel, blinky yellow light. Do you see it?"

"Yeah," Everyone agrees.

"There's a quarnyx battery behind it. Purplish box, green wires. To get into that watchtower, I definitely need it."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Gamora requests.

"Well, supposedly these bald-bodies find you ladies attractive," he says, glancing between you and Gamora. "So maybe you can work out some sort of trade."

Gamora angrily rolls her eyes. "You cannot be serious."

"You've got to be kidding me," you scoff. Peter tenses up a bit and his hands form fists on top of the table. He lets out a quiet grumble of annoyance.

"No, I really hear they find you guys attractive," Rocket laughs.

"Y/N won't be taking part in anything like that, regardless of how attractive she is," Peter justifies. He wouldn't want to see anything happen to you, especially not in this prison. Gamora nudges you under the table and you get the hint that Peter is clearly worked up over the idea of someone else being all over you even if it is just for an escape plan. You don't know how to take it. "Besides, it's twenty feet up in the air, and it's in the middle of the most heavily guarded part of the prison. It's impossible to get up there without being seen," Peter interjects.

Now, Rocket is the one who gets frustrated. "I got one plan, and that plan requires a fricken' quarnyx battery, so figure it out!" he snaps. The rest of you remain silent for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. "Can I get back to it? Thanks. Now, this is important. Once the battery is removed, everything is gonna slam into emergency mode. Once we have it, we gotta move quickly, so you definitely need to get that last." Suddenly, the room grows dark as many sirens blare. Behind you, Groot smiles, holding the quarnyx battery. "Or we could just get it first and improvise!" he exclaims.

"We'll get the armband," you declare.

"Leg!" Peter adds.

As Peter scrambles away to the cell of the man with the prosthetic leg, you and Gamora make your way over to a guard. "We're gonna need that," you state smugly, pointing at his armband.

He cackles. "Good luck, it's internally wired."

"I think we can figure something out," Gamora presses. As she and the guard go at it, fighting over the armband with Gamora clearly winning, you knock out any guards making their over to intrude on the fight.

Brushing your hands off from kicking some people down, you check back on Rocket and Groot. A series of tiny ships approach Groot and a guard calls out to him. "Prisoner, drop the device immediately and retreat to your cell, or we will open fire."

"I am Groot."

"Fire!" Screams the guard.

As the several ships fire upon Groot, him deflecting them, Rocket climbs his body. "You idiot! How am I supposed to fight these things without my stuff?"

"The animal is in control. Fire on my command!" A few guards with their own guns shout from below them. You cringe slightly, knowing you're all in trouble now. To your surprise, however, Drax takes down the guards, attacking every single one of them. Is he helping you?

"Creepy little beast!" he calls for Rocket, tossing him a gun.

Rocket beams with delight. "Oh, yeah." He fires at all of the ships and machines surrounding him. He doesn't even appear to be aiming, just firing profusely and hoping for the best. He and Groot scream in the process, Groot rotating below Rocket for assistance. You hate to admit it, but these dudes are pretty badass.

"I got it," Gamora shouts to you, pulling you along towards the watchtower, the two of you taking down a few guards on your way. You look back with a smile to see all of the guards lying on the ground."Rocket!" she yells, throwing him the armband.

"Move to the watchtower!" He tells all of you. In the mess of everyone running around, you search for Peter. Where is he? Is he okay? Thankfully, you catch him running, prosthetic leg in hand, on his way to the watchtower. You take a deep breath and exhale in relief. A guard stops him, telling him to put the leg down and go back to his cell. Peter puts a hand up at first but quickly knocks the guard out with the leg. He steals the man's gun and fires at a few ships in the process. He picks the leg back up and continues running. You watch him in awe. You may or may not have found that to be hot.

You don't get to stay calm for too long though, because as he scales the wall of the watchtower, a ship faces him. As it prepares to shoot, he closes his eyes, waiting for impact. "No..." you whisper, bringing a hand to cover your mouth.

In seconds, the machine is destroyed and Peter opens his eyes. Below him is Drax, who just ripped the machine in half with his bare hands. "You! Man who has lain with an A'askavariian!" Drax reports up to Peter.

"It was one time, man," he responds.

Eventually, you all arrive in the watchtower. Peter's face lights up once you walk through the door. He's glad you're okay. You return his stare with a smirk. You're glad he's okay too. Rocket sits in front of the panels, putting things together and pressing buttons. Gamora and Peter stand beside you while Groot watches over Rocket. Drax is the last one to report to the watchtower. What is he doing here? Gamora gives him a dirty look, clearly pissed off that he's with you all.

"Spare me your foul gaze, woman."

"Why is this one here?" she asks in annoyance.

"We promised him he could stay by your side until he kills your boss. I always keep my promises..." Peter affirms. "...when they're to muscle-bound whack-jobs who will kill me if I don't." He places the leg on the dashboard in front of Rocket. "Here ya go."

Rocket snickers. "Oh, I was just kidding about the leg. I just need these two things."

"What?" Peter grunts. You try and cover up your giggles but fail miserably.

"No, I thought it'd be funny. Was it funny? Wait, what did he look like hopping around?" he can barely contain his laughter and neither can you.

"That does sound kinda funny," you remark, earning daggers from Peter.

Rocket turns to face you with a wide grin. "You know what? You're starting to grow on me, Y/N."

"I had to transfer him 30,000 units!" Peter interjects.

You and Rocket are cracking up now, but he quickly focuses back on whatever he is doing with the panels. As your laughter subsides, you give Peter a reassuring look. His expression softens, and you can tell he thinks it's pretty funny too.

"How are we going to leave?" Drax asks.

"Well, he's got a plan. Or is that another thing you made up?" Peter retorts, still a little pissed at Rocket for lying to him.

"I have a plan! I have a plan!" Rocket reassures.

"Cease your yammering and relieve us from this irksome confinement," Drax discloses, scoping out the room. You furrow your eyebrows in bewilderment at his wide range vocabulary.

"Yeah, I'll have to agree with the walking thesaurus on that one," Peter lips, earning a snicker from you.

"Do not ever call me a thesaurus."

You scoff. "Fine, you're a dictionary."

"Do not call me a dictionary either."

"It's just a metaphor dude," Peter says, still chuckling.

"His people are completely literal. Metaphors are gonna go over his head," Rocket explains.

"Nothing goes over my head. My reflexes are too fast. I would catch it." You roll your eyes at him, he is kind of a dumbass. It's an endearing stupidity, though, one that you find to be quite funny. Just maybe when you're not about to be killed by prison guards.

"I'm gonna die surrounded by the biggest idiots in the galaxy," Gamora expresses. Honestly, you know she is probably right.

Several guards flood the room below the watchtower. They all carry enormous weapons and point them up at where you're all standing. "Those are some big guns," Peter says under his breath.

The guard leading the pack gets prepared to shoot. "On my command! Number one!"

"Rodent, we are ready for your plan," Gamora vocalizes as a bullet strikes the glass.

"Hold on!" he squelches back at her.

"Number two!" the guard calls out. The bullet breaks the glass, causing your anxiety levels to rise as you jump back.

"I recognize this animal," Drax pointlessly states. "We'd roast them over a flame pit as children. Their flesh was quite delicious."

"Not helping!" Rocket fires at him, pissed off.

"Number three! All fire on my command! One! Two! Th-" he is cut off by a change in the air. Everyone on the floor floats, unable to attack you.

Gamora steps up next to Rocket and leans over the panels, peering out the front window. "He turned off the artificial gravity everywhere but in here."

Rocket swivels in his chair, crossing his arms with conviction. "I told you I had a plan."

"It was a pretty good plan," Peter asserts. You nod in agreement, jaw dropped as you watch all the guards and prisoners wander in the air outside the window.

The six of you gather your things from the watchtower and sprint to the area of the prison that has your belongings from the previous day. Peter spots his ship. "Yeah!" he exclaims. "There it is. Get my ship. It's the orange and blue one over in the corner." He points to it and then heads over to the chests to retrieve his stuff. You have your folded clothes in hand and collect your bag that contains your mixtapes. Yet, you continue to search through the box. Where the hell is your walkman?

Rocket gets his clothes and groans. "They crumpled my pants up into a ball. That's rude! They folded yours," he whines. You ignore him and continue to desperately check every corner of the chest. Your walkman is nowhere to be found.

Peter is shuffling through his bin as well. Gamora finds the orb with her eyes and nods in confirmation. "The orb is there, let's go."

"Wait, wait, wait," he stammers.

"What?" she rumbles.

"That bastard didn't put it back."

You lock eyes with him. "Peter, they have mine too."

He shoves his stuff into your hands. "Here, get them to the ship. I'll be right back."

"How are you gonna possibly-"

He cuts you off. "Just keep the Milano close by. Go." You balance all of the belongings in your hands and stare at him with hesitation. "Go!" he demands. Reluctantly, you fall in line with Gamora on the way to the Milano.

You, Gamora, Drax, Groot, and Rocket wait in the ship for Peter's return. Rocket breaks the lengthy silence. "Well, how's he gonna get to us?"

"He didn't give me that information," you murmur. You tap your foot nervously. He needs to hurry back.

"Well, screw this, then! I ain't waiting around for some humie with a death wish. You got the orb, right?" he beseeches Gamora.

"Yes," she says, pulling Peter's bag from your grasp and investigating through it. But, the orb isn't in there. Gamora squawks some profanities under her breath and you can't help but smile. Now you have to wait for Peter. You don't want to go on without him anyway.

Rocket notices the orb isn't there and sighs. "If we don't leave now, we will be blown to bits."

"No! We're not leaving without the orb." Gamora screams.

"Or Peter," you remark quietly to yourself. Turning to stare out the window, you see him. He has his mask on, his glowing red eyes looking directly at you through the glass. His headphones balance on his head as he blares "Escape" also known as "The Piña Colada Song" in his ears, the song you were listening to when you first met. In his hand rests your own walkman.

He enters the ship, removing his mask. Drax approaches him, slapping him on the back with glee. "Behold, this one shows spirit. He shall make a keen ally in the battle against Ronan," he hoots. "Companion, what were you retrieving?" Peter shoves the walkman in his hands. "You're an imbecile," Drax snarls.

Peter struts over to you, his cocky smirk placed firmly on his lips. He passes your walkman to you. "Here you go, sweetheart. I guess I saved your life twice now."

"Thank you, Peter, really. This means a lot to me."

"Eh, don't mention it," he shrugs. "Did you like my song choice?"

You giggle. "I loved it."