Chapter 6
Rocket’s ears flicked against the incessant noise coming from Drax’s quarters. Even as the raccoonoid tried to insert the refined bullets into the gun he’d just finished upgrading. What the flark was that? He recognized the rising and falling of the brass from some of Quill’s music. But Quill and Gams went out on their little escapade, he rolled his eyes at the thought as he finished placing the rounds into the gun. He aimed, that grating sound ringing through his ears and into his brain. He fired,
“Flark it Drax!” He snarled, holstering the weapon. The orange smoke from the blast wafted through the air vent. Rocket tore down the target, eyes narrowing in a vengeful fury at the mark he’d missed.
“I am Groot?” the sapling gurgled from his pot.
“Stay here, I’ll be back soon,” he instructed stalking away and pattered down the hall to the Destroyer’s room, banging his fists on the metal wall.
“Hey! Drax! DRAX! Keep it down would yah?!” Rocket demanded, calling over the terrible drawl of whatever whack instrument he was attempting to play. He halted, at the pounding steps and jumped back as Drax swung the door open. “Drax…” the raccoonoid stared up at the bald man’s drawn face, his eyes…puffy and red.
“Small friend was my music disturbing you?” He voice rasped, Rocket furrowed his brow in confusion. He swallowed his planned “what was music?” comment and instead tilted his head.
“We’re you cryin’?” He asked, hopping his voice wasn’t as harsh as it usually was. Drax looked away for a moment, before grimacing and turning away but gestured for Rocket to follow him. The raccoonoid sniffed, it was mostly sweat that had infiltrated every surface of the alien’s room. That…and spices? Drax heaved a sigh, putting his odd instrumental contraption down on the bed and brought his hands to his head, covering his face.
“It was on this day,” he began mumbling, “that my Hovat and Kameria were taken from me.” Rocket’s tail stiffened, sucking in a breath as he took in the stooped, miserable figure of the destroyer. His tail twitched, watching as Drax lifted his head, only to pull something out from a drawer and place it in his palm.
Seconds later a hologram appeared before him. A woman, bald and tattooed herself with several piercings adoring her ears and nose chased a young girl around, shouting playful in some odd language. The girl whose flesh was unmarked shrieked in laughter and ran faster. Rocket opened his mouth to speak, stopping as the hologram shut off. Drax kneaded his fingers restlessly on the cot, then turned to his instrument.
“I used to play for them,” he nodded to the contraption and smiled sadly. Flark me, Rocket grumbled to himself, but leapt upward on the cot beside him and looked over the golden thing. “It’s a saxophone,” the destroyer explained. The raccoonoid nodded,
“Look I uhhh,” he cleared his throat, “I never apologized for…. for what happened on Knowhere.” At this Drax turned to him, Rocket looked away back at the so-called saxophone. I could turn that into a trennlian cannon. What was he doing? Oh right, apologizing. “I shouldn’t have said those things about you or your wife or kid.” They hung there in suspicious silence for a moment, before Drax turned to him.
“You were not entirely in the wrong,” he whispered. “I should not have lost my temper as I did.”
“No Drax,” Rocket’s voice cut him off in a haste that surprised himself. “No….I’m sorry. It was wrong. I don’t got an excuse for why, not that it would matter of I did but,” his voice trailed off as he stared at the wall before them. Drax only nodded, turning back to himself in despair. “I never said I was sorry, and I never thanked you…” Rocket forced himself to continue. “For….what you did for me after the explosion on Xandar...after Groot.”
“I know what it is too loose those you hold most dear,” Rocket nodded even he couldn’t disagree with that if he tried. The silence stole their voices yet again only now it seemed less oppressive and Rocket took his paw gently to touch Drax on the back patting awkwardly. “Yah know,” he finally spoke again unable to stand the lack of noise. “I know Groot ain’t your kid but…I’m sure he’d like to hear your music.” Drax’s expectant eyes turned to him with childlike hope.
“Really?” Rocket nodded, allowing himself to smile.
“Wait here a sec,” before he could make some smart remark he hopped down.
“Rocket?” The raccoonoid halted in the doorway, “you are a good friend. I am glad to have you as my friend. It is good to once again feel loved.” He pretended not to hear, leaving the room to grab Groot but Rocket beamed as he made his way back down the hall.
“A’right Drax, take it away.” Rocket steadied a bouncing Groot on his shoulder with one hand and waved Drax on with the other. The destroyer….no…Drax the father, began to play.