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Before, Rocket and Groot travelled together and curled up wherever they could when it was time to sleep. Sometimes Rocket would have nightmares even in the comfort of Groots arms.
Now, after saving the galaxy for the first time with a bunch of people he’s just met, Rocket still travels with Groot. They just have a team standing behind them. Sometimes, Rocket still has nightmares. But unfortunately Groot isn’t always there to comfort him. And he doesn’t know who to turn to.
“Subject 89P13, drop your weapon!” A voice called out to it.
It vaguely knew what a weapon was, but no idea how to use it.
A man in a white lab coat, with blonde hair as bright as the sun and deep brown eyes stood in the hallway. His arms were outstretched as if to stop it’s escape. It raised the weapon. There was hesitation as it’s fingers trembled finding the trigger. There was hesitation in shooting.
Soon, everyone was on the floor.
Soon, alarms were blaring.
Soon enough, he had made his escape and given himself a new identity completely.
He would not be a thing. An it. No, he would be Rocket from now on.
Rocket genuinely smiled but then there were voices. Bad voices. He knew those voices.
They were off the ground. They were charging for him. They were yelling SUBJECT—
Rocket tried to shoot them again. He failed and dropped the weapon. He was screaming. They were going to get him, take him back, experiment on him—
Peter was enjoying watching the stars from his room. Music was playing at a low volume from his Walkman. That’s when he decided he needed a glass of water. Peter sighed, paused his music and took off his headphones to get out of bed, all the way to the kitchen.
He swung his legs out of bed, socked feet finding the metal flooring of the Milano. Peter stood up and left his room to go down to the kitchen. But upon hearing strange noises from the door next to his, he stopped to listen. Rocket was mumbling incoherent things like a series of letters and numbers that meant nothing to him.
Peter stuck around for a few more minutes. And that’s when Rocket started screaming. Peter had never heard anything like it from him. It was high pitched, pained and just wrong .
He knocks on the door frantically but tries to stay calm. Peter being panicky would not help Rocket if he was also panicky.
Peter knocks again when there was no response. “Rocket? Are you okay?” He asks, surprised at how normal his voice sounded despite his inner turmoil. After one last round of knocks, Peter shoves the door open.
The sight he saw was honestly unexpected.
Rocket laying on his back, taking up a small portion of the bed he owns. His breathing is heavy though he looks to be trying to calm it.
Peter cautiously steps inside and gently knocks on the doorframe. “Rocket?” He says to get his attention but his voice is low and quiet.
Slowly, Rocket sits up and looks Peter up and down, inspecting him. He rubs his paws over his eyes with a sigh.
“Hey- hey Quill.” Rocket nods. “What’re you, what are you doing here?”
Peter shifts on his feet, leaning against the doorway as he tries to act cool and casual. “Oh just..checkin’ up on you. Because you were kinda..” He makes some weird, vague gestures with his hands. Rocket looks at him quizzically. Peter scoffs. “You were screaming. So I…” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.
Rocket tenses but then just huffs. Peters still standing there. Why is he still here? Can’t he just go away? Does he ever pick up on social cues?
Rocket rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “I had a nightmare, so what?”
“You wanna talk about it?” Peter asks even though the impression he’s getting from Rocket is obvious.
“No!” Rocket half yells, holding back the hiss stuck in his throat.
Peter holds his hands up in surrender. “Just saying man, it could help-“ He steps backwards so he’s giving Rocket more space if he needs it.
Rocket stomps his foot on his bed, snarls and before he can stop them, the words tumble from his lips anyway. “Why would I want to talk about being an experiment , Quill?” He spits out harshly, hoping Peter will just drop it already.
In front of him, the man drops his hands and lets his shoulders relax. Rocket watches his every move, analysing. Peter shakes his head fondly as he sees Rockets eyes following him.
“Can I come in?” Peter questions, slightly hopeful.
Rocket just shrugs. “Whatever. You were halfway in my door earlier.” He says lamely.
“Is that a yes?”
It’s awkward at first, like most things are with Rocket. Peters pretty positive he doesn’t trust him a whole deal yet even though they’ve saved the galaxy from Ronan.
Peter shuffles closer to Rocket, an invitation. Rocket turns his head to look at Peter who just acts like he didn’t do anything. The raccoon huffs fondly.
For the next few minutes they sit there in awkward silence next to each other. Peter wants to comfort Rocket, but he’s not sure he can without getting torn apart by him. Rocket is shifting next to him however before he can say anything, he crawls up onto his shoulder.
“You’re not very good at this.” Rocket snickers.
A smile crosses Peters face. “Neither are you!” He chuckles.
Rocket rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Lie down, Quill.” He jumps off his shoulder, forgetting why he climbed up there in the first place.
Peter gives him a strange look but does as he’s told. As soon as his back hits the bed, Rocket climbs onto his chest and settles down in the middle.
“Oh.” Peter breathes out.
“Shut up.” Rocket mumbles. “ This never leaves my room. Got it?”
Peter shuffles around to get comfortable. “Got it. G’night Rocket.”
Rocket hums. “Night, Quill.”
Soon enough, they both fall asleep. The calm rise and fall of Peters chest practically lulls Rocket to sleep. And if after a while, Rocket starts purring, no one needs to know. And if after that night Rocket started sneaking into Peters room after a nightmare, well it would forever be their thing.
And if domestic moments like this keep happening, Rocket might find himself calling the Guardians family and their ship home .