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Sword caught glimpse of the shop, the doors shuttered and boarded up, and all the lights in the house off. It was a small patch of quiet darkness amongst the blaring lights and hussle of the market district of Crossroads.
As he flew in, about to land at the backdoor as he always did, he saw a small tinge of orange light spark to life on the roof. Just for a second.
Rocket didn't move as the gusts of winds hit his back, moving his hair into his eyes and billowing the smoke from his cigarette off into the night sky.
"Rocket!"
He kept looking straight off into nowhere.
"I'm so sorry, I came as quick as I could. I was busy with work and I didn't check my phone since I was out in Lost Temple, and I last track of time, *gods night comes so fast*, but I'm here, what's wrong, can I-"
"He's gone." Rocket spoke with little emotion.
Sword stopped in his tracks, feet away from Rocket, with a hand outstretched about to touch his shoulder.
"It happened just earlier tonight. I don't know when. I wasn't looking at the clock. Sorry, don't know what time it is." He took a deep breath in and blew more smoke off.
"Rocket, I'm..I'm so sorry. I should've. I'm-"
"Don't worry about it, Sword."
"...are you..okay?"
"I'm as good as I can be, I guess. I don't know what you mean."
"Sorry. I just... I don't know." Sword stumbled over his words and they caught in his throat and around his tongue. The sudden news hit him and he lost all air in his lungs to say anything. He walked forward and sat next to Rocket, Rockets feet dangling off the edge.
They both looked off into the night.
"These are his, y'know."
Sword looked over as Rocket gestured his cigarette towards him.
"Gods, he'd strangle me if he saw me smoking. Especially his shit."
Rocket forced a smile that Sword saw, still looking over at him as Rocket looked to the distance, past the markets and past Crossroads.
"When I was younger I remember stealing one from him. I thought he was the coolest person in the whole Inpherno. Boy, did I not even know the half of it... When he found me with it he botched me across the face so fast." Rocket chuckled to himself. "He said if I wanted to fuck up my body so young I better go off and do it with my own shit. I mean," he looked down at his arm, "I kinda already did that. But he had a point."
Sword huffed a laugh. Rocket shook his head with a smile, moving his prosthetic leg up to hold closer to himself.
"I'd like to think he'd understand though. Given the situation. Or he'd just get mad at me. Say some shit about, 'stop moping and taking my stuff and get back to work.' Like he always did."
"Gods, he'd always ride your back," Sword teased.
"Oh he sure did. I remember I hated him when he first took me in. I went from this wild, rugged little newspawn, running around Craterdust without having anyone telling us what to do-" he paused, his hand out, fingers moving like he was hand filtering through memories, trying to figure out where to go from there. He gripped his fist. "-to having this random, old, retired dude telling me what to do, acting like he knew what was best for me."
Rocket paused, putting his hand back to hold his knee closer. He put his cigarette back into his mouth and smeared his hand over his eyes.
"I guess he kinda did know what was best for me." The cigarette bobbed in his mouth.
Sword looked at him fondly. "He taught you a lot."
Rocket kicked his legs out and rocked back onto the roof, plastering his hands over his face. "I just wish I picked up more."
Sword looked down at Rocket. Despite him covering his eyes he could see his lips quivering and his breath begin to shake.
"Sword I don't know what to do."
He didn't know either.
"He always told me things like I was gonna take over the shop tomorrow. And I'd just roll my eyes as if that would never happen," his words came out shakily and frantic, "but now it's happened and I don't know what to do. I don't know if I can do any of this. He believed in me so much and gave me so many responsibilities but now I have to do all of this alone and it's scary and he's not here and I just wish he was and I wish I was just sitting up here crying because we got into a fight about work orders or me running off like I always did and I got angry and yelled at him." Tears rolled down Rockets cheeks. "And I just wish that I was angry at him but I'm not. I miss him and I never want to miss him I just want to be mad but I can't be because he's gone and I'll never be able to be angry at him again."
Rocket choked up on his words, his body shaking. He was biting the end of his cigarette, clenching his teeth against tears and pain.
Sword stared at him, his own heart breaking the moment he saw Rocket fall apart. His hands shook. He couldn't imagine how he felt but he wanted to. He had never missed his mentor, all he felt for him was anger but he was alive and well and he wished he'd never see him again. Maybe he missed how they once were but that was a different person to him. Venomshank had never been anything even close to Zuka.
Sword shifted himself over to rocket, scooting his legs to behind him and gently held Rockets face, his hands moving as Rocket sobbed.
He took the cigarette from his mouth and smudged it out on the ground and looked back down at Rocket. He rested his head in his lap, staring down with at broken expression onto Rockets hands. His hand was rough and scarred, and even his prosthetic one had lost most of its shine and was covered in small scratches and marks of wear.
Rocket move his fingers to peer up at Sword. His eyes were red and watery. Light from the market hit the corner of his eyes and they shined.
"It'll be okay, Rocket"
"You don't know that", Rocket shook his head against Sword legs.
"With anyone else, I wouldn't know, but with you I do. I've known you my whole life, well, the only part of my life that matters, and I know you. You're strong and determined and hard working, despite everything against you, you do what you know must be done and you succeed no matter what. I know that, and Zuka knew that. That's why he took you in, why he raised you despite how much you bit back, and why he taught you all he knew. He knew you could do this."
"Then that's one thing he got wrong," Rocket sniffed behind his hands.
"It just feels wrong now. Everything does. I know. It feels like everything is stacked against you, and like people overestimated your abilities, and everything feels too much and too heavy to bare." Sword whisked Rockets hair away from his face, looking down between Rockets fingers at his eyes. "And... it'll feel that way for a while. But the most important thing is to not forget what you've done and what you're capable of."
Rocket moved his hands from his face and gently placed them atop Swords. His face was reddened and tear lines ran down his cheeks to his ears and mouth.
"Everyone knows you can do this. You just have to know that yourself," Sword looked at him with a warm smile. He rotated one of his hands to squeeze Rockets fingers. Rocket held his back.
"What if I don't think I can."
"You don't have to think that now. It's hard to think anything. Let yourself rest, and mourn. And slowly you'll start to breathe more easily and think with less pain." Sword leaned down and kissed Rocket, the wet from his tears touching Swords chin and the smell of the cigarette strong on his lips.
Sword trailed his fingers up Rockets cheeks and into his hair, gently working his fingers over his scalp. He ran them through his hair, still looking down and analyzing Rockets face. Rocket closed his eyes to the relaxing touch, a few last tears leaking from his eyes as he closed them.
The sounds of the market area sounded around them, chatter and shouting mixed with foot traffic. Wind rolled in and rustled through Sword hair and wings as he shielded Rocket from the chill of Crossroads' night.
A comfortable, warm silence fell between the two. Rocket breathed a little easier.