“Flark it Quill I just got him to go down!” Rocket snarled as Groot’s thin cries sounded in his ears once more. The sapling stirred in his blankets, kicking them off and arching his little body upward in absolute fury.
“Sorry!” The human called down from the captain’s quarters, the crescendo of “You Spin Me Right Round,” tapering off into the white noise of the ship’s engine. Rocket’s tail lashed in irritation but turned to Groot’s spindly vines, fumbling over the folds of the soft blanket and reaching out for purchase. The raccoonoid let out a begrudged sigh but scooped the sapling up in both paws,
“Hey, hey, easy there,” he whispered through clenched jaws. It had taken the better part of the evening to get the little flora to bed, a routine that had been established since Groot had taken his first steps and no longer needed to be replanted in a pot every night. They were supposed to take turns, Rocket inwardly fumed, patting the squirming creature on his wooden torso. In truth it was really only him or Drax who could ever coax Groot to sleep. Peter was too much of a sucker, allowing the twig to scroll endlessly through the Zune and listen to music and Gamora simply couldn’t get him to settle no matter what tactics she implemented. “Go the flark to sleep!” Rocket growled, shifting the squalling baby from a cradled position on his back to be propped up over the raccoonoid’s shoulder. The turbines of the ship whirled, casting shadows against the grated floor. In the purple darkness of the drifting ship Groot’s small fists balled around Rocket’s fur. The desperation of that primordial grip making the raccoonoid’s heart skip a beat.
“I am Groot!” Groot gurgled, Rocket pat his back taking care to not hit too hard.
“Shhh, shhhh, buddy I got you,” he hummed stroking the brittle bark. Outside the windows of their shared room the infinite universe unfolded in a thousand stars. Rocket paced to the window, turning away to allow the sapling to gaze out at the sky. The ship glided listless, and Rocket found himself patting Groot tenderly as he rocked, savoring that delicate touch of leaf and wood. Groot cooed once more even as Rocket continued tip-toe across the room, gently rocking the little tree.
“When I woke this mornin'something inside of me told me this would be my day I heard the morning train, I felt the wind change, too many times I’m on my way.” Rocket whispered softly, one of the endless songs Quill had introduced them to. But the melody was low and rhythmic and Groot tightened his vines around the fur of his shoulder and arm. He rubbed his little face into the crook of Rocket’s neck.
“I am G..Grooot,” he mumbled. Rocket grinned, those three words illuminating his heart with light.
“Come on sunshine, what can you show me,” he sang slowly, “where can you take me to make me understand, the wind can shake me, brothers forsake me, the rain can touch me, but can I touch the rain?” Rocket looked to the stars, watching them reflect off Groot’s bark and felt himself inflate with adoration. The engines moved on, a ubiquitous lullaby of it’s own. Rocket continued to sing ever so quietly, tenderly moving Groot to rest in the embrace of his arms once more. He held the tiny flora, now somewhat pacified to his chest and vines clutched to the straps of his jump suit. Warm and close. The darkness shrouded them in serenity, a private world free from the loud noises and bright lights. Groot’s sleepy eyes looked up at Rocket through small slits, shimmering in the silver light of the stars. “And then I saw the sunrise above the cotton sky like a candy-cane delight. I saw the milkman, I saw the business man, I saw the only road in sight,” as he sung the words Groot shifted himself, rolling over inward against Rocket, yawning. “Then I got to thinkin’ what makes you want to go, to know the wherefore and the why so many times now, oh Lord I can’t remember if it’s September or July.”
Who the flark is the Lord? Lord of what? Rocket thought to himself, but one look at Groot’s contented face stole the thought from his mind. What more could the galaxy possibly hold for him, then this little life in his arms? Borne out of death, so much light from such weighted sorrow. Rocket resumed his pacing, if to chase the grief from his heart and leaned down, nose brushing the flora’s wooden head in a kiss.
“Then all at once it came to me, I saw the wherefore, and you can see it if you try, it’s in the sun above, it’s in the one you love, you’ll never know the reason why. Come on sunshine, what can you show me where can you take me to make me understand. The wind can shake me, brothers forsake me, the rain can touch me, but can I touch the rain. So much to lose, so much to gain.”
So much to loose, so much to gain, bittersweet and tender Rocket gently kissed little Groot, who finally let his eyes slip closed. The raccoonoid held him awhile longer, walking in a libertine mediation. In the tumult chaos of their lives, such a peacefull quietness was needed to nourish the fragile heart and heavy eyes. Groot’s tiny body so whole and perfect held a promise for the better, held the hope of life and growth and all the things Rocket longed for. Here before him, wanting him, needing him. A star clinging to the lonely darkness. But Rocket would cradle him forever in this moment, if only to let him shine all the clearer. Groot moved a vine, twitched his feet but remained serene. Finally, regretfully Rocket placed Groot down amid the blankets once more, his paws still yearning to hold the little thing to him and protect him from all the cruelties he himself had endured. To keep him close to him as he should have kept the Groot that came before.
“Good night buddy,” he whispered slowly slipping from the room, wrenching his loving gaze away at the shutting of the door.
“Hey Rock!” Quill’s voice shattered the moonlit tranquility of Rocket’s heart.
“Quill!”
“Were you…did I hear you….singing?” Rocket’s ears flattened with embarrassment.
“Don’t be stupid Quill I’d throw myself out the air lock before I you caught me singing some humie crap!” The hume in question blinked, finally shrugging and nodded.
“Fine, whatever. Did you get Groot down?”
“Little hellion, had to barricade him in a box and sat on it until he shut up.” Quill starred, and at last waved him off. It was not the most questionable parenting technique the raccoonoid had resorted to. Far from it.
“Alright…good night Rock.” Rocket turned back to the door,
“Night Quill.” The raccoonoid slunk into his and Groot’s room, back to that safe, secluded place of slumber. He hopped up beside Groot’s nest of blankets, curling around him and closed his eyes. Visions of shooting stars and lullabies filled his imagination as he snugged in closer to Groot, though so small that familiar scent of earth still provided such a soothing stillness. Rocket and Groot slept soundly and content.