Chapter Text
Chapter One: First Meeting for a Second Time
Time: The Present 2014:
Location: Xandar- Capital of the Nova Empire
Peering through the screen of his tablet, Rocket searched the crowd before him. Usually, bounty hunting isn’t a half bad job; however, times were tough and jobs were slim pickings. The job didn’t need to be big. He’d happily settle for something small. Rocket is a man of simple needs and singular taste. All he needs is a full belly, some explosives or munitions to keep his hands busy, and maybe a little something to upgrade his cobbled together ship. Rocket flicked his tail and ran his tongue over his teeth.
Fucking Xandar. Always leaves a bad taste in my mouth, he though as he continued to scan the crowd. He began to talk, just to break up the silence, to keep the voices of his past at bay.
“Xandarians. What a bunch of losers. All of them in a big hurry to get from something stupid, to nothing at all. Pathetic,” Rocket continued as he mercilessly mocked the hapless passersby. From victims of deranged barbers to infants and old leches, no one was safe from his acid tongue. “Where’s your wife, old man? What a class-A pervert,” Rocket laughed and added, “Right, Groot? Groot?”
Finally, looking up and actually acknowledging his partner, Rocket witnesses his boon companion drinking actual fucking fountain water. He wants to slam his little freak face into a wall. Dammit Groot, you are so fucking lucky I love you, buddy. “Don’t drink fountain water, you idiot. That’s disgusting!” Rocket admonished.
Watching Groot shake his head and cheerfully deny transgressing human behavior norms sent Rocket’s mind swimming back to the past. The bottoms of Rocket’s feet ached, remembering how the High Evolutionary used to have the sensitive soles of his feet hit with a cane when he forgot himself and did something too animal like. If he lapped at his tea with his tongue instead of sipping with his lips, then down came the cane. If he forgot in his haste to keep up and dropped down to all fours, then down came the cane. If lost in thought solving a puzzle he growled softly in frustration, then down came the cane.
The sting of the rattan on sensitive paw leather dissolved into careful finger tips and a soft voice. “Here, this will help,” she said smoothing a soothing cream over a cut. “You don’t have to be afraid, buddy. You aren’t alone.” Tenderness and love threaded into a human voice. The voice of an angel. Her voice.
Rocket could feel his throat closing up, tears beginning to form in the corner of his eyes. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about her. Rocket shook his head and tried to focus on the here and now. “Yes, you did. I just saw you doing it. Why are you lying?”
The beep and flash of light from his tablet catches his eye. Excitedly he says, “Whoop. Looks like we got one. Okay, humie, how bad does someone wanna find you?” His tail begins to violently wag as he enlarges the figure on the tablet. A pink humie chick talking to a helmeted jackass. Looks like a Ravager with all that brown leather. Seriously, wearing jet-boots with an oversized coat like that? Was the D’ast idiot trying to ignite himself? Ugh, talk about bad fashion choices and crimes against humanity.
He focuses in on the helmeted figure and a bright swarm of numbers flash across the top of the screen. “Forty thousand units?” Rocket could get a hard on just from looking at that many zeros. He glances back over to his friend and cackles, “Groot, we’re gonna be rich.”
Of course, Groot is still drinking from the public fountain. Rocket sighs and shakes his head at the Flora Colossus. Looks like I’ve gotta do everything again. If you get hepatitis or chlamydia from that shit, I am not taking your bark covered ass to a certified arborist.
Now that they have a job, Rocket is all business. He quickly powers down his tablet and tucks it away in his bag. “Come on, Groot, you know the drill by now. Oh, and by the way, we need this flesh bag alive, so don’t rough em’ up too much, capiche?”
“I am Groot,” Groot reassured as he took the large bag proffered by the Procyon. Together, Rocket and Groot are a well-oiled machine of smash-and-grabbery and mayhem. With Groot’s raw strength, intimidating aura, and ability to grow at will, he made a worthy opponent; when Rocket’s genius, cunning tactical brain, and gratuitous overuse of explosives came into play, the two truly became a deadly duo.
Springing up to his favorite perch on Groot’s shoulder, the two began making their way to their mark. Rocket smirked as the helmeted man unsuccessfully attempted to flirt with yet another woman- a green one this time. Tall and fit, the man moved with the exaggerated confidence of a typical dude-bro-pretty-fuck-boi. Rocket hated pretty people, whole people. Rocket imagined how satisfying it would be when he got to shoot the douche bag.
Helmet Head leaned close to the woman as if confiding a secret or bragging, and, when the man tossed up a metal ball, the green woman snatched up his prize and gave him a powerful boot to the belly. A mean laugh curled out of Rocket’s muzzle. The only way that could’ve been better would be if it had been a real shot to the balls. Testicular violence as comedy is a definite universal constant.
Ol’ Helmet Head recovered quickly and subdued the viridian vixen with a thrown electrified bola, sending her careening to the ground. Just as he reached the woman, she freed herself from the restraint and was back in the game. If he’d had some popcorn, Rocket would be munching happily away. A good fight is a good fight. Though, this fight was really a bit one-sided, what with the green woman, knocking the man off his feet and wailing on him like a punching bag that owed her money. This is better than throwing a sandwich to a buncha space hobos and watchin’ them fight for the scraps.
When the verdant chick hauled out a blade though, fun time was over. They needed their bounty alive and kicking to score those units. Before she could shank his bounty, Rocket flung himself bodily from Groot’s shoulder and slammed hard into the woman, causing her to stagger forward and drop her sword. He grabbed her multicolored hair and rode her head like a rodeo clown on the back of a bucking bronco.
Groot flailed about uselessly with the bag, trying to net the woman. Rocket desperately indicated their bounty, “No! Not her, him! Learn genders, man,” he yelled. His fight wasn’t going so well either. Even with using her hair like reigns, the woman was more than formidable. Sharp teeth almost latched onto his arm, and he squawked at his opponent, “Biting? That's not fair!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rocket watched his bounty and 40,000 units go running off into the sunset. His distraction cost him heavily. Green girl flung him off of her with incredible force. He then got splatted on a glass display screen like a fucking bug. The next few moments were a blur. As he slid slowly and painfully down the glass, he cursed his size and throwability. He really hated being man or woman-handled.
Shaking off his dazed state, Rocket turned, and was delighted to see that Groot had leveled up in badassery and subdued the woman interfering in his bounty hunt. That big bag was definitely full now. She was annoyingly interfering enough that she could possibly be some competition for the mark. Ugh, there was something about her that was awfully familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his little clawed finger on it. Well, no one was fucking him over on a bounty hunt this big. “Bounty hunt- rhymes with cunt,” he hummed under his breath as he pulled out his big gun. Time to take care of business.
Rocket’s target remained in range, and he lined up the perfect shot. “I live for the simple things. Like how much this is gonna hurt.” The gun expanded in his expert grip, a thrill racing down his spine. He pulled the trigger. The blast of electric energy slammed into the helmeted man. “Yeah. Writhe, little man,” he jeered as the bounty jerked and jittered then stilled on the ground. A satisfying whisp of smoke rose from the back of his ugly jacket.
Helmet Head lay face down on the hard ground. Rocket kept his blaster aimed as he toed the body once, then twice with a harder kick. This would all be easier if Groot was there to help him roll the stupid humie over. Sighing, Rocket stashed the blaster, and with a mighty heave, he rolled the bounty onto his back. Was he imagining things, or was the guy really a light-weight? Guy was fit, but big, tall, wide-shouldered. Should have weighted more than that.
But now the bounty was somehow smaller, actually swimming in too large clothes. Rocket exclaimed, leaning forward to examine his quarry more closely. He pulled at the jacket lapel until it parted and opened to reveal a tee shirt covered chest and feminine breasts instead of carved pecs. What the Jesus-titty-fucking-Christ-on-a-stick is goin’ on here? And I thought I was a walkin’ talkin’ freak show.
The unconscious woman moaned from the ground. He’d really hit her quite a bit harder than he really needed to. Rocket shrugged. Chick or dude it didn’t matter. He was a feminist and an equal opportunity ass-kicker. So, what if he’d shot a woman? He couldn’t give a single fuck. Electrified humie equaled hilarious in his messed-up mind. Crispy crittered humie, get yer crispy crittered humie here!
Really, it was usually pretty hard for him to empathize with humans- even on his better days. Whether male or female, humans tended to suck pretty hard. Rocket had to admit, though, that it usually took one asshole to know another. Rocket sneered down at the prone helmeted humie laying before him.
A spill of curly copper brown hair spilled loose above the face mask. Glowing red metal eye sockets stared sightlessly at the sky, and the central face plate gave a general flattening effect. Heh, she’d probably have a flattened nose without this bit of kit. “Let’s see what the lady-boy looks like under the creepy disguise, Scooby,” Rocket scoffed as he leaned down to hit the helmet release button on the side. A hiss of air and a click of collapsing metal revealed a heart-shaped face with too-pale skin.
The universe opened up beneath Rocket’s feet. Spinning and freewheeling, he was adrift in a cosmic storm. Time and space crackled and collapsed in on his consciousness. Like two magnets held apart then allowed to clap back together, a feeling of homecoming and reunion shook his soul. “Petra,” he gasped, “Petra Quill.” The taste of her name on his lips filled his chest with a fierce longing that was swiftly followed by a wave of guilt and nausea blooming in his guts.
“No, no, no,” His stomach sank as he dropped to his knees to grab the woman’s face. He wanted to simultaneously scream and vomit. He recognized that face. He’d know her even if he were blind; her image was engraved in black ink on the insides of his eyelids, carved in bloody furrows on his soul. “Petra,” he cried out, his hands now batting at her cheeks, willing her to wake up. Gods above, be all right. Be ok.
His lungs strained to breathe, and his heart hammered in his chest. The tightening, constricting band of a panic attack began to dig claws into his brain and behind his eyes. Pull yourself the fuck together. Get your furry ass in gear. Time snapped back into place, and his head cleared. Rocket’s eyes swiveled and landed on Groot. “Groot,” he screamed, voice high and reedy with fear, “Groot, I need you now!” When Groot failed to move quickly enough Rocket called out again, “Groot! Get your tree-ass over here!”
The Flora Colossus made his way to his diminutive friend. “I am Groot,” he complained and scowled down at Rocket.
“Yeah, yeah, you did a stellar grade ‘A’ job on that green broad. Now, we gotta get the fuck outta here, buddy,” Rocket’s words were staccato bullets as he tried to rush his friend.
“I am Groot.” Groot said and pointed helpfully in the opposite direction.
Peering around Groot, Rocket wanted to have a complete temper tantrum meltdown. “Xandar police, shit!” He unholstered his blaster and fired a series of warning shots at the approaching officers in their stupid-ass floating mini-ships.
In an instant, Rocket scrambled up Groot’s legs and back to take up his habitual perch on the Flora Colossus’s shoulder and aimed his blaster a second time. “Groot, please,” Rocket was begging now, “Pick her up and get us back to the ship,” He wanted to cry as his brain shrieked at him, Save her. Save her. Save her. He nearly lost his balance as Groot effortlessly lifted Petra and began a ground-eating run.
Rocket tossed the electric gun down to clatter to the street. He reached into his backpack and pulled out two smaller guns in their stead. What the guns lacked for in size, they made up for in lethality. He dialed the blasters to full strength. Tightening his grip on Groot with the claws of his feet, Rocket let out a battle cry of terror and rage as he unleashed holy hell upon the pursuing officers. Screams of innocent bystanders rang in ears as ridiculous humies- including the police- dove for cover.
Besides laying down a wall of heavy cover, Rocket didn’t pay careful enough attention to where his shots ended up. One sickly green blast burned through reinforced glass and an officer took a shot in the chest. Rocket would normally love the resulting crash and explosion- it was goddamn beautiful; instead, his chest seized with dread. All but one of the pursuant vehicles converged on the crash site. Someone was shrieking for a medic, a child cried out as if in pain, and then the craft burst into flames.
Shiiiittttt. Killing space-cops and civilians was bad for business, so much badness. And these modified blasters? Heh, this shit was banned in at least 50 known systems. Shooting them, inflicting fatal attacks with them at this high of an energy output was a death sentence in at least half those systems.
Nearly to the open ramp of his ship, the Rakk ‘n’ Ruin, Rocket flattened his body just in time to avoid a returned volley of fire from the lone Xandarian officer. Fucker singed his goddamn left ear. Groot bellowed as a shot burned through a swinging arm, and he nearly dropped both women and Rocket to the tarmac. Well, might as well go out in a blaze of glory copper! Rocket took aim and fired at the left air intake manifold and the entire side of the vehicle erupted. A savage joy swelled in his heart. Careening wildly into a refueling station, the out-of-control speeder resulted in a rain of carnage that made the cybernetically enhanced Procyon begin a maniacal laugh.
“I am Groot…” Groot whimpered as he paused in order take in the subsequent series of exploding ships and businesses. He glanced up at his partner his bark encrusted brows coming together and his mouth opened wide in shock.
Rocket silenced his mad giggling with effort. “What,” he snapped, not liking the horror and judgement in Groot’s deep brown eyes, “You’ve seen me do way worse shit than this.” He would ‘blam-murdered-you!’ all of the fuckers on Xandar if it meant he could just get them all off planet to somewhere safe.
“I am Groot.”
“Oh, don’t take that patronizing tone with me, this is just another Tuesday in Rocket and Groot world, and you know it,” Rocket argued. As they entered the Rakk ‘n’ Ruin, additional booms and earth trembling blasts sounded in the distance.
“I am Groot,” Groot insisted as he flopped both women to the ground and slammed the button to close the ramp.
“I don’t have time to listen to your preachy whining. Throw the green one in the brig, and put the other on in my cabin. I’m gonna get us off this motherfucking planet.” Rocket yelled as he dropped to all fours and raced of the cockpit.
Groot’s deep outraged and scandalized voice rattled down the hallway, “I am Groot!” Rocket could feel the vibration on the metal floors even though he was over halfway to the cockpit.
Rocket was too far away for Groot to hear him, and he had to flick his com on to respond in mid stride. “Jesus fuck, dude. No, I’m not planning anything rapey with the humie. I just want to make sure she’s all right and comfortable until she comes to.”
“I am Groot?”
“I don’t have time to explain, buddy. I know her. She- she’s important to me. Just look after her for me, ok?” Actual tears were welling up in his eyes and his nose stung. Rocket swung into the pilot seat and began firing up the engines and launching the ship into the air with a skull rattling violence.
The blue and white Rakk ‘n’ Ruin shuddered and clanked into orbit and sped towards their first jump point of many. The strain of multiple jump points was a price they had to pay for their speedy and destructive exit from Xandar. Desperation outweighed comfort. At least the two women were unconscious and didn’t have to witness the excruciating and cartoon-like elastic bodily expansions and contractions.
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By the time Rocket felt safe to stop the ship, he was a drenched in sweat shaking mess of frayed nerves. A quick punch of buttons, and the autopilot engaged. He groaned as he stepped down from the pilot’s seat, stopping to lean his pounding head against the cool leather of the arm rest.
He hurt deep down in his bones where the metal dug into his marrow. Catching his breath took several long minutes. His joints fucking ached. A headache brewed a nimbus cloud in his brain. The familiar drum beat of pain marched up and down his frame.
Again, embarrassingly, he walked to the galley on all fours. It just hurt less to move like the quadruped his body was supposed to be instead of standing on his own two feet. He reached up to grab a few water pouches and ration bars, but dropped all of them as his right hand spasmed. When he clutched something for too long in that hand- like, say the yoke control of the ship when pelting helter-skelter across the galaxy- he would later struggle not to drop objects or keep it from shaking.
Some of his surgeries needed revisions, and a number of the implants in his body were beginning to suffer wear and tear. His maker hadn’t really put much consideration into the longevity of his mismatched parts. He’d been so, so young when he’d escaped the High Evolutionary, not entirely finished, still raw and frayed in places. So, what if I wasn’t built to last. No one lives forever, and I got shit to do.
With a sigh, Rocket stood on his hind limbs he tucked as much of the food and drinks as he could under the right arm. He made his way down the main central corridor to his room.
In front of the door, Groot met him with the familiar call of “I am Groot.” Hooo. Groot is really pissed off.
“I’m sorry, man. We needed to make tracks.”
“I am Groot,” Groot reproached, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I know. It’s definitely all my fault. I majorly fucked up.”
“I am Groot.”
“What else ya want me to say? I already apologized. I ain’t doin’ it again,” Rocket said and lowered his ears as Groot continued his imperious gaze.
“Here,” he said, holding out a water pouch and two ration bars as a last attempt at trying to make up for his mistakes. Unimpressed and with a raised eyebrow, Groot took the meager peace offering. Rocket strode into the room, threw the remaining bars and pouches on his work bench seat, then made his way over to the bed where Petra lay.
Kindhearted Groot had done his best to make her comfortable. He’d partially undressed her and tucked her under the blankets, even rested her head on the pillow. Groot moved to sit at the foot of the bed, and watched as Rocket drew closer to the woman.
Rocket let out a low animal whine as he took in Petra’s condition. A bruise colored one cheek, and he was going to have to reset her broken nose. He winced as he imagined what other injuries she had because of him. He couldn’t resist smoothing an errant curl behind her ear, pressing his face close to breathe in her scent. He closed his eyes, the sensation of her skin against his sensitive palm sending a shudder through his body.
How long ago did he last touch her? When last was he touched with love? He used to know. He kept count of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks. Later, time shifted to months and years, and then, after over a decade, he forced himself to stop defining time in terms of their separation. Maybe his brain obeyed, but his heart knew the inevitable creep of distance.
Over that vast distance of time, a younger version of themselves stood facing each other. Rocket held Petra’s hands in his, eyes shining and full of love, hope, and want. “We are not separate creatures, we are bound. No matter how far apart we are; we are entangled down to our particles. You and me Pet, we’ve always been one being simultaneously occupying two places. Sweetheart, you ain’t ever gonna be alone. I’m always gonna be with you. We belong to each other.”
A sharp, “I am Groot,” interrupted Rocket’s musing. He gasped and the purring rumble in his chest cut off. His face blazed with heat as he realized that at some point he’d grabbed up Petra’s hand and was rubbing his face against her palm.
With gentle reverence, Rocket set Petra’s hand back on her chest. “I wasn’t getting fresh with her, all right? I- it’s just been a long time, and I missed her. Remember how I told you about a gal who’d saved my life and was Udonta’s daughter? This is her. Her name is Petra, Petra Quill.”
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TRACK ONE: FUCK SHIT UP!
[Verse 1]
I don't believe in cops, bosses, or politicians
Some call that anarchism. I call it
Having a fucking heart that beats!
[Verse 2]
I do believe in freedom and never giving up
Call my methods madness or call it a bluff
I do what I got to to be able to breathe!
And If you quit your job well, you can do a little breathing with me
[Chorus]
A punk rock song won't ever change the world
But I can tell you about a couple that changed me
So, tonight, we're gonna fuck shit up!
Tonight, we're gonna fuck shit up!
Tonight, we're gonna fuck shit up!
[Chorus]
A punk rock song won't ever change the world!
But I can tell you about a couple that changed me!
So, tonight, we're gonna fuck shit up!
Tonight, we're gonna fuck shit up!
Tonight, we're gonna fuck shit up!
Fuck Shit Up (Wa Na Na) by Wingnut Dishwashers Union
TRACK TWO: WHEN I FIND LOVE AGAIN
Hey-oh, where can I go
When all the roads I take, they never lead me home?
Hey-oh, I miss you so
But I'm used to seeing people come and go
Yeah, I've made mistakes
Next time, I swear I'll change
When I find love again
When I find love again
I'll be much better than the man I used to be
When I find love again
When I find love again
I'll have a better plan for us
Hey-oh, I'm not ashamed
'Cause everybody has a heart that's made to break
Hey-oh, don't be afraid
'Cause you're only getting stronger from the pain.
When I Find Love Again by James Blunt