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“Fuck’s a Flora Colossus doing in prison?”
“Beats me.”
“No seriously dude I thought those were extinct, like, a long time ago.”
“Dude just put ‘em in the cell,” the receiving guard grumbled, scratching the side of his beard.
Groot braced his arm as crash-landed into his cell and collided head-first with the bottom bunk.
“Watch it, newbie,” some foreign voice barked in the bunk above.
“I am Groot,” he said, and for the first time in a long time, that meant exactly what the words implied; a simple introduction for a simple plant such as himself.
“Well, I’m tryna sleep so you’d better shut the fuck up before I tear ya a new one.”
Groot got on his feet to find a surprisingly small creature with his back facing him; he owned a fluffy, striped tail and a pair of ears that stood out on his head. He was curled up almost in a ball, and it was the sight of it that made Groot realize it had been sort of chilly that night.
Groot got into his bunk, and as expected, his legs had been dangling out and touching the icy floors of his cell. He grabbed the thin sheet under him and placed it delicately on top of his torso and thought about how warm it was outside as compared to the four walls that surrounded him.
No matter. Groot’s body was built for storing food and warmth and sunshine anyhow.
+
Groot shot up with a groaning pain on his forehead from slamming his head onto the top bunk, the little creature above him protesting with a string of curses and loud growling.
The bell chimed, and telling from the incessant yelling from the guards and the neighboring commotion from fellow inmates, it was breakfast time.
The cell bars were slow, almost reluctant as they dragged across to the other side, opening up the space for the inmates to flow out in an orderly manner to the canteen. The guards were readied in the middle of the crowds, scattered here and there with their electrical batons ready for aggressive prisoners or those who dared to look at them a different way.
Just before Groot could exit his cell and join the steady stream, he looked over his shoulder to see the brown-furred creature still unconscious on his bunk.
He turned right back around, and his hand hovered over the creature’s abdomen for a second.
Groot tilted his head, better seeing the world at his angle for a moment.
With firmly pressed lips, Groot gave a gentle shake to his stomach.
The creature groaned, but his eyes were still closed and he was still limp.
Groot gave another shake, this one a little more vigorous than the last.
Nothing.
“I am Groot,” wake up, Groot said with a third shake.
“Leave me alone you d’ast fuck,” the creature grumbled under his breath, shaking Groot’s hand off of his torso.
“I am Groot,” it’s breakfast time, Groot persisted, shaking him again.
“Fuck off!” The creature finally opened his eyes, panting and turning over to face Groot only to see the crowd moving behind the tree.
“Agh, shit,” he cursed, jumping down from his bunk and joining the rest like nothing had happened.
Groot sighed, his shoulders slumping before he braced himself for the not-so-subtle pushing and shoving as he was slushed into the moving train of inmates.
+
The food was mush, as per usual, but it was better than nothing at all. He gave the canteen a quick glance, his eyes quickly skipping over the prisoners giving him a mean glare until he finally found a familiar face all alone at the corner, the steel table looking a lot larger than all the fully occupied ones.
Groot walked over, his vision tunneling because there was only one thing he wanted to do—and he couldn’t waste any time worrying or thinking or wilting or dying.
Groot quickly settled his tray across from the creature, his knees almost knocking over the table from how long his legs were. He folded them aside, trying to ignore the growl his cellmate had bubbling in his throat.
“I am Groot,” he said again today. The animal was unmoving by the time Groot had reached his cell, and from his experience, most creatures don’t listen when they rest.
“Look, I’m only gonna say this once, newbie—it’s Rocket. Now if you could stop chasing me around like a lost puppy I think it’ll do some good for the chlorophyll,” the creature named Rocket replied, his brows furrowed as he shoved food into his mouth and swallowed without chewing.
Groot’s hands settled on either side of his tray.
“I am Groot.” I’d like us to work together.
“That the only sentence you know?” Rocket scoffed, and this had been the third time he seemed to use his teeth as some sort of trophy—or threat, Groot wasn’t too certain; all he knew was that most creatures don’t bare their teeth nearly as much as this one had, but he wasn’t about to question an inmate who sat alone on a canteen table.
Not that he could, anyway.
Groot planted his thumb and index finger on the table making a little arch with them before putting a finger through it. Then, he pointed to Rocket after he pointed to himself.
The creature …
Smiled.
Groot smiled too.
But the moment hadn’t lasted very long when the creature soon began laughing, guffawing and perhaps shedding a tear at Groot’s display.
The others began looking back and staring at the little creature, and Groot could only frown as none of them had dared to approach the table. Not that it had been a problem—more so that it was a strange occurrence than anything. The room had been loud not of Rocket’s seemingly exaggerated laughter but of the thoughts Groot could grasp from the different inmates’ expressions.
“You’re out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’d escape with the likes a’you,” Rocket condemned in a lowered voice as his chest was pressed against the edge of the table.
“I am Groot,” enlighten me, Groot replied politely.
“Oh for fuck’s sake ONE more time I hear you say those d’asted words again I’m clockin’ ya!” Rocket snapped as he got to his feet and pointed a firm finger at Groot’s face.
There were those teeth again.
How did he manage to keep them so clean?
The rest of breakfast time was spent in silence, but with all the large and sharp teeth his cellmate owned, the metal utensils often made clashing sounds when he would throw food in his mouth.
+
Here’s the thing about spending half your life alone and unable to speak the common language of the people; everyone thinks they know the definition of alone, but Groot knows there is technology out there, or at least there will be one day—when people around him will get to walk an inch in his starved trunk of a body and realize that is alone. It is a word that doesn’t quite grasp the vast weight in the two syllables it contains, and people have this impression that because it is easy to say, because they’ve had to experience traveling alone once or twice, that they know the definition of alone.
Alone is the thoughts in your head no longer staying as thoughts, but becoming a friend you’ve never met in your life. Alone is having to curl into a ball on the streets and pray when you wake up it’s not from getting electrocuted by a cop or a sharp kick to the gut by some youngling who thinks you’re truly just a fallen tree.
Alone is when even you are convinced that you are nothing more than a tree. Nothing more than the product of the planet that was so easily destroyed and reduced to a mere myth.
But then when Groot realized the bunk above him was rattling and shivering about, he remembers he has a cellmate.
That’s not alone, so Groot stands up, nevermind that the pathetic sheet of fabric was on the floor—the sight before him was not one he was thrilled by at all.
Crumpled up beneath him was Rocket’s own blanket, twisted and creased from all the cracking and shifting his body seemed to be doing in its unconscious state; the little creature was foaming at the mouth and mumbling things Groot couldn’t understand before his chest sprung up and—
“LYLLA!”
Groot jolted backwards as the creature rolled over the very edge of the bed, hand almost reaching Groot before it gave in and Groot’s arms came flying in front him to catch Rocket in his arms.
He was shaken awake, almost jumping right out of Groot’s arms as Groot stumbled to make sure he didn’t fall face-first onto the dirty ground.
“The fuck are you doin’? Get off me you d’ast idiot!” Rocket scurried right off of Groot’s arms anyway, climbing back onto his bunk and giving Groot one last glare before he turned his back to him.
Who is Lylla?
Groot stood there for a minute. It probably wasn’t a minute, but it definitely wasn’t any shorter, for his thoughts branched far beyond what he was sure his mind could carry.
He watched as the creature’s shoulders lifted and sank as surely as the day would come, the slow motions of his breathing almost guiding the rhythm of Groot’s running thoughts.
Perhaps Lylla is someone he misses, Groot nodded to himself.
Lylla is a pretty name. For a second, Groot almost associates the name with Rocket’s unknown past. That he was a flower waiting to bloom. Maybe he was just another damaged creature trying to get by in this world, just as Groot had been after leaving home.
Worlds collided in Groot’s head; quite literally, he’d seen planets collide and produce fire and big bad puffs of smoke all around. He wasn’t sure if he’d met someone who screamed in their sleep like they were being impaled before.
Maybe he was being impaled.
By Lylla?
Whatever it was, Groot knew of pain. And even beginning to imagine the pain one has to go through to scream like that? While unconscious? Groot had the creature in his arms—mentally, of course—and all he could see himself doing was giving him the ol’ Flora Colossus hug—his branches growing so slowly to fit his back and fill his days with nothing but reassurance and compassion.
And from there, his days were limited; if he was going to get out of there, he was doing it with this small creature on his shoulder.
“You know I can feel you breathin’ down my damn neck, right?” The animal’s tail gave a little flap during his remark.
Groot quickly got back to his bunk and let his calves hug the cold edge of the brick-like bed.
Groot wished on and almost talked to ghosts when he was out there with the dark skies and the empty streets.
So Rocket can scream, kick, push, and probably injure Groot all he wanted, but there was no way Groot was talking to ghosts again. Not when he has a friend sleeping right above him.