Peter knew trauma. He wasn’t blind to it. That hollow eyed silence? That locked jaw? That waiting-for-the-next-hit posture? He’d worn that face before.

Found you on some remote Kree lab station, one of those “classified projects” that turned out to be a bunch of scientists playing god in the worst possible ways. You were sitting in the corner of a holding cell, blinking like the light was new to you.

He fought through half a squad to get there. He hadn’t meant to find you. But once he did, there was no way he was leaving you behind.

Now you were on the Milano, sitting in the co pilot chair. Peter hovered nearby like you were a bomb. He tried talking.

“So… uh… you hungry? We got food. Kinda. I mean, it’s edible. If you ignore the expiration dates.”

You didn’t answer. Didn’t look at him. He tried again.

“You got a name? You, uh… prefer a nickname? Codename? Something cool, like ‘BladeStar’ or ‘Void Kid’?”

Nothing. Just silence. Peter scratched the back of his neck. He glanced around the ship like music might magically save him from this awkward pit of helplessness. Because God, he didn’t know what to do.

This wasn’t blasting a Ravager ship. This wasn’t charming some space princess or tricking bounty hunters. This was a kid. No, a person, who’d been through hell. Someone who hadn’t spoken since he found them. Someone who flinched at loud footsteps and didn’t sleep.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do. He walked over to his bunk, rummaged through a few drawers, and came back with a dusty, well loved Walkman in one hand, a spare pair of wired headphones in the other.

He just gently, carefully, set them in your lap. He knelt beside the chair, not too close. Just enough that you could hear him if you wanted to.

“Okay. So, full disclosure… this thing’s ancient. Like, ‘older than most moons’ ancient. But it still works. Mostly.”

You stared at it like it might bite.

Peter gave a weak smile. “It’s got all the classics. Bowie. Jackson. Some real weird stuff too, but don’t skip Track 4 on Side B. Trust me. It’s a banger.”

He looked away and fidgeted. Then added, “Helped me when I was your age. When stuff got loud up here, this made it better.”

He pointed to other chair. “I’ll be here,” he said, and awkwardly sat down.