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Yondu’s floating up to consciousness a little more often by the second day, as the cocktail of meds and nanites sifting through his veins starts to win the fight against the frostbite and flash burns. This time he’s relieved to blink through gummy encrusted eyes to see Rocket tweaking idly at something electronic and bristling with wires, instead of his idiot kid or a sleep-deprived Kraglin.
“ ‘Lo, Rat,” he croaks out.
“Still alive, then?” Rocket nods jerkily in his direction, not looking up from the wires he’s delicately threading together.
“Aw, I’m touched ya care,” Yondu smirks at him, then starts to cough as his parched throat protests all this talking business.
“Just didn’t want to put up with Quill getting all weepy everywhere, ’s been bad enough as is,” Rocket grumbles, eying him until he seems to decide the coughing fit isn’t bad enough for him to intervene. “Plus Groot made you a Guardian all official like, can’t just go and die on us now.”
Oh, yeah. Yondu had almost forgotten about that little moment, what with all the fighting and things blowing up and almost dying in space. Recollecting it makes him think of the other thing he should probably mention while Rocket’s around, before he looses the gumption.
“I heard ’s were you that called Stakar here,” he says, shifting a little in the bed as he turns to stare at the wall in front of him. “Saved m’life.”
“Good thing I did, too, ya blue a-hole,” Rocket stabs viciously with his multitool at some stubborn bit of metal, “I can see where Quill got all his highfaluting idiot heroics from.”
Yondu glares at him affrontedly, shifting grouchily about in the bed.
“Don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout,” he huffs.
“Uh huh,” Rocket scowls back.
They’re still eying each other in grumpy silence, when a whoosh of the med bay door breaks the calm, bringing Drax stomping cheerily in.
“Yondu,” he booms out, a tiny Groot balanced on his shoulder. “You are awake. I have brought smaller Groot to assure him you are well.”
He gently lifts Groot from his perch with one cupped hand and plops him on Yondu’s chest. Goot peers up at Yondu with those big brown eyes of his, and says solemnly, “I am Groot.”
Yondu quirks an eyebrow at him. Groot crawls up his chest to settle on the pillow against the side of his head.
“I am Groot,” he says into Yondu’s ear, yawning a little as his eyes droop.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re all glad he’s not dead, stop saying it ‘fore he gets all swollen headed,” Rocket rolls eyes and slides off the seat. “C’mon Drax, time for all us non-IV having folks to get some real chow.”
Yondu makes scoffing sounds in their general direction, but as the door closes behind them he lifts a shaky hand to adjust Groot into a more comfortable position.
“Night, Twig,” he creaks. He can just hear the faint melody of some of Quill’s music over the ship speakers, making his own eyes start to droop as the familiar chords drift lazily around his head.
Better make sure to give the kid his prezzie soon. And if the music box just happens to be on that song about fathers and sons… well, he don't think Quill will mind.