Chapter 3
“He’s not even out of his pot yet Peter, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“THANK YOU,” Rocket exclaimed. Star-Munch just shook his head, his hands gripping his control console knuckle white. He heaved a breath before repeating,
“He’ll be fine! That’s why Rocket’s gonna rig something up. You can do that can’t you?”
“Yah I can do it Star-Dork,” he glared out of the corner of his eye from his co-pilot seat. “But I’m not gonna because as Gams said, he’s not coming. It’s not safe.”
“Pppshh, when did you ever care about safety?”
Since I crashed that ship into the Dark Aster…
“He ain’t comin, he hasn’t even said his first words yet!” Quill spared a glance at him,
“Hate to spoil the surprise but I’m pretty sure his first words are gonna start with ‘I’ and end with ‘am Groot.’” Rocket jerked his steering wheel on his console to the left and swallowed his stomach as the ship tilted sharply.
“Rodent! Cease this petulant behavior!”
“Don’t call me rodent!”
“All of you stop it!” Gamora screamed, steadying herself as the ship recovered. “Drax don’t call Rocket a rodent. Peter the answer is no. Groot is far too tiny for this job. He hasn’t been on a job since…” Rocket heard her falter and turned over his shoulder to study her. The green woman’s eyes briefly looked to the small plant sleeping in it’s pot, and then to Rocket. Almost apologetically. “He hasn’t been on a job since Xandar and this is not the one to take him on.”
“I must agree with the green whore,” Drax input. “Even on my homeworld children do not go into battle until they can at least speak.” Groot isn’t a child you kurtukan idiot.
“Yah know I’m surprised Ronan was the one who killed your kid,” Rocket mused.
“What is that supposed to mean? He did kill her. Must I repeat that?"
“He’s being a smart ass Drax don’t mind him.” Quill reassured. A tense silence filled the ship as it coasted closer to Trator. Both Rocket and Peter opened their mouths in a single breath,
“He’s not coming that’s final!”
“He is coming we need him!” Rocket smoldered, jerking his wheel to the left once more. The Milano tried to tilt, then spluttered, creaked and continued without turning.
“Yah know that’s gonna kill the wing controls,” the raccoon like creature grumbled.
“Rocket we’ll be careful, I promise! You’ll rig up something so we can pull him out if we need but you heard the orders and this thing is located in an old corez plant. Groot’s tiny, can fit in places even you can’t. Good for thieving.” As soon as the words were out his mouth Quill went wide eyed, swallowed with difficulty and resumed looking out the front of the cockpit. “You said yourself he’s not a baby, didn’t you? Besides he’s been on this ship for days I bet he’s just itching to get out and we’ll be right by him every step of the way.” Hitting the one person pilot button Rocket hopped out of his seat, walking over to where Groot now blinked awake.
Say something…anything…Rocket silently pleaded, looking at him as he stretched. Groot only grinned and wiped his eyes.
“You want to come with us buddy?” Peter’s over enthusiastic baby-talk made Rocket want to blow him out the air lock. Groot nodded vigorously, waving his arms, Peter leaned over Rocket and plucked him up in his pot spinning the windmill to the flora colossus’s delight.
“See? He wants to come!” He boasted, spinning Groot around. Rocket shook his head,
“Fiiine.” Rocket caved, watching Groot smile like an idiot. It’s the least I can do I guess. The anxiety knotted in his stomach at the thought of the little tree being lowered down onto the factory floor. Why the hell is Tratorian alkaline so valuable anyway? The Collector didn’t include that in his message. But he did include the price he’d pay. 75,000 units. Still mulling in doubt he left the pilot deck. Three sleep deprived nights and no more liquor on board Rocket got to work on making Groot his own portable rigging that could easily be supported and navigated by someone else. He’ll be fine, he wants to do this and we’ll all be with him in case anything happens. He told himself over and over as he worked, but that sick feeling of shame and mourning still stirred in his moist eyes.
On the flight deck, back in his pilot’s chair Peter navigated the Milano closer to Trator. Drax sat beside him, Groot in his pot in his arms. The tiny flora colossus could barely do anything really besides cry, sway this way and that, and stare up at you with those unending orbs. Good for thieving, Yondu had said of Peter on more than one occasion. Well Yondu probably wanted him dead now after he swapped the Infinity Stone and gave it to the Nova Corps. Peter told himself he didn’t regret the decision, it was clearly the right thing to do. One look at tiny Groot, now beginning to doze off however, made Peter question whether stopping Ronnan and the infinity stone was worth it after all. The sinking feeling in his gut didn’t go away as he spotted the black and orange dotted planet come into view.
“That’s it?” Gamora leaned over him.
“That’s it. Now this Tratorian alkaline, do you know why he needs it?” Gamora rolled her eyes,
“When does the collector tell us anything useful. It’s probably for his containment chambers for some of his larger specimens. Tratorian alkaline is nearly indestructible. That’s my guess anyways.” Quill nodded watching as she too looked at Groot.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this to him.”
“He’s gonna be fine. We’ll make sure he goes in and out real fast. There’s no other way. All we got to do is lower him down, he gets the alkaline and we get out. Piece of cake.”
“Not him! Rocket!”
“What about Rocket?” Peter demanded. The rodent had been far more insufferable as of late. His verbal jabs sharper, he’s moods moodier. Last night Quill found him tearing out parts of the Milano’s wiring in the main corridor just to see what it looked like.
“Do you have any idea how frightened he must be?” Gamora inquired. “He just lost Groot days ago,”
“Yeah but he’s back,” Peter waved to the small plant. Her lips drew back to a thin line.
“It’s not the same Peter. You know it, I know it and Rocket definitely knows it.”
“It’ll be good for him Gams!” He argued defensively. “Rocket said himself that Groot was just small, that’s all. He’s not dumb.” Her hands gripping the back of his chair released slowly.
“If anything happens, Rocket won’t be the only one you need to worry about.”
“C’mon Gamora! I’m just trying to…”
“You’re just trying not to feel guilty yourself. Despite what Rocket says Groot is infantile, at least for now. I know you never knew your father but Yondu raised you and now you have to help raise Groot. You owe him that for his sacrifice. You have a responsibility to him and putting him in danger like this…” That was all he could listen to. Slamming on the accelerator he laughed at the startled yells from Drax who instantly caught Groot’s pot, and Gamora who went flying backward.
“Here we are. Trator. Now if anyone else wants to yell at me for trying to help you can shut your mouth’s cause we got a job to do and Groot’s going to help just like he always does! He’s a baby but he’s all our baby and he’s gonna be fine.”
“He ain’t a baby!” Came Rocket’s roar from the depths of the Milano. Peter laughed it off. He just needs another job to distract him it’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine. We’ll all be fine.
Several stressful hours later the gang, complete with Groot staring wide-eyed in his pot, crouched in the dank, steaming bowels of the Tratorian Alkaline factors. The ventilation system was hot, stinking with grime and stuffy from lack of use.
“Got his rig on tight?” Peter asked through his mask. He did not need to see the enhanced raccoon’s face to see he was clearly pissed.
“Of course I got it right Star-Butt.” He finished securing the last of the straps to the plant’s pot.
“Good. Then let’s go.” Drax and Gamora each nodded, scrambling to their own positions down the shadowy vents. Peter put his hand to his mouth, and breathed slowly, trying to forget the reeking smell.
“Alright Groot, now be careful. All you got to do is put some of that liquid into this container. Try to fill it to the top. But be careful, it’s highly flammable.” Rocket’s fist clenched as Peter went through the instructions twice more. Baby Groot watched with wide eyes, nodding and taking the jar in his hands, turning it this way and that.
“See? He’ll be fine! That’s the Groot we know and love!” Peter proudly hoisted the pot with it’s rigging upward and leaned above the opened vent. He could feel Yondu’s own gaze upon his back, amused and laughing as they prepped the small, inexperienced child for a risky mission.
“I know he ain’t a baby Quill but….”
“Have some faith ranger rick.” The raccoon like creature reached for his gun but Peter already precariously began lowering Groot down over the factory floor. Refusing to watch, Rocket busied himself working on the containment chamber he had created for the jar of the alkaline. Over three inches thick of inflammable material with four separate locks and a failsafe.
“BAM!” Rocket’s guns were in his hands in a moment, looking down on to the factory floor in dread.
“What the flark was that?!” Groot was safe in his pot though it now swung from side to side with more sway then the plant preferred.
“Just one of the goons, must’ve heard Drax and Gamora kill the others and came back here.” Rocket’s ear’s perked at the small whine from below.
“Your almost there buddy!” The tiny tree frowned, looking up at them with large, fearful eyes.
“He doesn’t like it Quill.” Rocket observed, shooting three more men as they came in and saw Groot.
“He’ll be fine, not much longer!” Peter gently lowered Groot down father despite the plant’s protests. His arms trying to pull himself back up on the pulling rig.
“How many more of these guys are going to come?!” Rocket yelled, gripping one edge of the opening as he leaned over and shot at four more men emerging from the left door.
“Drax and Gamora are handling it!”
“They’re doing a great job!” He cursed and let out at frustrated cry shooting another few factory workers. Groot swayed farther as he was lowered down to the vats of dark golden liquid. He cried again, shrill and loud like an infant…Rocket’s mind thought before he could correct himself.
“Quill let him up!” Peter only looked down and smiled, lowering Groot even more until he was just above the large pool.
“You’re almost there Groot! You can do this! Now just fill that jar with the alkaline and we’ll lift you right back up.” Groot’s frightened cry answered, from their height they could see him look at the alkaline and then back up at them.
“Quill…” Rocket warned. Groot screamed, small globs of light sappy tears manifested at the corner of his eyes and ran down his wooden face. No amount of units is worth that. Rocket knew that much. His tail flicked and he reached out for the pulley. “Give it up Star-bitch, we’re done.” Peter yanked the pulley away as Rocket reached for it.
“He can do this! Don’t you want to see him do it?” Peter’s own mind spun. Groot’s pleading cries filled his ears with memories of his own. How many times had he been the one in that position? Terrified while guns blasted all around him and large alien creatures reached for him. Their weapons inches from his own face he, the smallest person in the galaxy cowered while Yondu and the ravagers fought around him. He got through it, was stronger and better at what he did because if it. Groot would be too. He dodged the angry mammal once more and shot a man who had reached for Groot.
“Flark it Quill let him up! He’s gonna get hurt!”
“We’re almost there daddy trash panda! Groot c’mon bud just fill that container and…” stinging pain grazed his hand as Rocket’s claws reached for the rigging.
“Don’t call me his daddy!”
“Dude just shoot already and let me handle this!” Peter twisted, flattening to his stomach in the narrow vent, putting himself between Rocket and the wire he had fused to the wall to control the pulley. Groot shrieked, violently jerking to the side when Peter had moved.
"You’re not handling anything!” Rocket aimed his gun at Quill’s leg ready to shoot it.
“Rocket he’s got this! He just…SHIT!” Over the raccoon’s shoulder, down on the factory floor watched as a yellow and purple spotted alien dove for Groot. He took aim, going under Rocket’s own belly and frantically shot. He heard the shout of the monster but it was the flames he saw. Groot let out a shout to split glass and Peter grabbed Rocket, rolling to shield him as the flames and smoke rose upward covering them in black, choking smoke.
“Groot!!” Fangs and claws pierced at him before Rocket wriggled free, leaping down into the fray. Quill watched, stomach in his throat. What have I done? Even Yondu never fucked up this bad.
Rocket could smell his charred fur, could taste the flakes of ash and carbonated petrified…wood. No. no, no, no, NO!!
“Groot! Groot buddy?!” Waving his hand frantically through the smoke his heart lifted just a tad. In his pot Groot hung low and drooping, one arm completely burnt away. Tattered blackened wood on his shoulder smoked. Curling around the pot Rocket looked him over, awkwardly hanging on with one hand to the rigging. “There you go, anything else hurt?” Groot only look and him and though he still had not spoken, Rocket understood him. The shame rose within, a title wave and the same tears that had run down his face the day Groot sacrificed himself now threatened to make another appearance.
“I’m going to kill him.” He whispered aloud, gently taking the container from Groot and hoping down to fill it with the alkaline, now bubbling, it’s noxious fumes stinging his nose. Rocket climbed back up, around the potted plant, quickly scanning for any other signs of injury. The right side of Groots thin trunk was singed but not gone. The tiny plant cried, tears of sap running down into Rocket’s own burned fur. As they were lowered back up Rocket’s own anguish burned his insides. It should have been me. If it were, larger Groot could do this job no problem. I said I’d do better…he also said that after every drunken debauchery.
“Is he….?” Quill’s shaking voice barely registered with Rocket as he untangled Groot from the pulley and held him in his hands, unconsciously close to his chest.
“Don’t touch him!” He snarled, hackles up and fur on edge.
“I’m sor…”
“Shut the flark up! Star-c*nt!” All the dark, sickening echelons of Rocket’s own heart, if he had one, creeped out. No alcohol, no sarcasm to keep them at bay, to keep them tame. This was different. Since Groot had died, and died he had, no matter how Peter, Gamora or Drax tried to spin it with words like “resurrection,” Rocket had kept to himself mostly. He never liked emotions, and the one’s he cycled through after that fateful day were too many to handle. He didn’t ask to get made. He didn’t ask for sentience either. With sentience came feeling, came vulnerability, hurt and grief. He didn’t ask for any of it.
“What happened?” Gamora’s demand sounded through the vents before she herself emerged.
“There was an accident, I shot at the guys…one of them came for Groot but it misfired, Rocket was…”
“I’ll tell yah what happened!” Rocket roared, beneath his rage he could feel Groot’s tiny arm wringing his fur, pressing himself close almost to hide. He held the pot tighter.
“Star-flarker here burnt Groot’s arm off!” Peter’s jaw dropped, he craned he neck to see but Rocket wasn’t having any of it. Shielding Groot as much as himself he turned towards Gamora. “We’re leaving,” he tossed her the canister. “Let’s go.” Groot nuzzled his face against Rocket’s chest his cries now whimpering and small. “It’s alright buddy,” he whispered once they were back on the Milano. Peter refused to look at either of them and headed straight for his pilot’s seat. But even as Rocket said the words and watered Groot’s pot, he knew he was lying.
“I wish you would hurry up and grow. I need you back ol’ buddy.” Groot only cried, sap now running from his small nose as well.