"Hey, don't be that way, pretty lady. I wasn't discountin' ya. You're a part of your own family. You belong in that whole compliment. Take it, might as well. In a sea full of shit opinions about the world, ain't enough people tryin' to make it decent an' gettin' credit for it."

But he is proud of Peter, and he can't deny that. "His name's Peter Quill. His blood father was a giant cosmic nigh-on all-powerful asshole, but my boy-" his boy thank you "-was mostly your run of the mill average terran turd of a man. Drove me up the wall with the amount of trouble he got into. And only about two-thirds of the time could he get himself back out of it. Lucky he had me, an' later the friends he made."

He beams a bright, jagged grin. "He saved worlds. Not just one, a bunch of 'em. He was the best at flyin' a ship an' while he couldn't ninja fight he could finagle himself into all kinds of advantages. He could steal the underwear off a man and be gone before he felt a draft in his trousers. Kid's slick as a whistle. He's got a mean spirit an' a good heart and I couldn't ask for any better combination of the two."

And he misses him like crazy, and he regrets none of this was anything he said to his face. He only gave him three desperate sentences of love to say good-bye on, and he had to hope that his past actions in a new lense compensated for his failures.