Sweet Child of Mine

Some days are harder than others. After the Milano was repaired they set course for the fourth quadrant, there were bound to be jobs there. Peter and Rocket continued to dance in apprehensive circles around each other, which left Gamora and Drax to most of the chore of looking after Groot.

“You’re going to make yourself sick!” Gamora exclaimed, Groot only stuffed the candied Torlo into his little mouth and furrowed his brow. “Groot! Hand it over!” She reprimanded, hand going instinctively to her sword hilt.

“I am Groot!”

“Now!” Her patience wavered, “or you are getting another time out.” Groot let loose a vine and smacked down a row of canned food in the kitchen. Rocket heard them clatter to the ground, followed shortly by Gamora’s exasperated cry of fury. “That’s it! Your going in time out!” She dived for him, reaching out just as the flora colossus made to run out of the kitchen and tripped on the step. She grabbed for him, hands closing tightly around his little body. He cried out, mouth stuffed with candy and berated her with his vines.

“What’d he do now Gams?” Rocket ran a paw over his eyes. It had been a few rough nights of putting up with Groot’s sleeping schedule. Despite their best efforts to establish a consistant napping time on the ship, it was hard to do with the ever changing lights of planets, asteroid belts and other phenomena that illuminated the Milano’s windows as they traveled.

“I’ve had it with him!” Gamora yelled, “He’s a brat Rocket!”

“Why’re you yelling at me about it?” He shot back, watching her struggle to contain he enraged sapling. “It ain’t my fault!” Gamora did not answer but her boots echoed as they slammed down the stairs to the engine room. Rocket shook his head, today was a harder day. He was trying best he could to come to terms with the fact that his best friend was gone, that there was a tiny infantile, bratty little tree in his place. Where companionship, assurance, and stability had once been, even amidst all the chaos of his life, there was now more responsibility, anxiety and grief. Grief over loosing Groot, grief that he now had to fill in the gaps for this new Groot.

There were so many gaps. Rocket told him of how the two of them escaped Halfworld, how Groot had once saved his life when he was wounded after the retrieval team from the lab came after them, told him how Groot has saved his life again and again. Rocket had to tell him about the night he got so drunk he almost sold Groot to some weirdo Ecav woman who wanted to take Groot apart for money on the black market, this being one of his more shameful memories. There were so many gaps.

“What are we going to do with him?” Gamora asked, coming back and slumping into a cushion beside Rocket in the common area. The enhanced creature shrugged, adjusting the modules on a new tarbuline bomb he was designing for deep space usage.

“How would I flarkin know Gams?” He quipped, “I’m trying okay?!” He was surprised to see her nod, she sat up and wrung her hands together on the table. 

“I know. We all are. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.” They fell into a comfortable silence. For once it seemed like the Milano was flying without needing any repairs. Somewhere in his own quarters Rocket could hear Drax practicing with his knives. This was evident by a great deal of shouting and triumphant laughter.

“Hey Gams,” Rocket began slowly, thinking about what Drax had said to him earlier. She looked up from her own thoughts. “…thanks,” he forced out, scrutinizing the tarbuline bomb, too flarking afraid to meet her eyes.

“For what?” 

“You know,” he didn’t want to say it. Saying it would admit how much he enjoyed it, needed it, that comfort. It would solidify his vulnerability, his weakness. He thought of Groot, the one who was now…dead…and those two remaining sticks that he held in his hands in the late hours of the evening. Groot was a walking vulnerability in and of himself and yet, and yet he was the strongest person Rocket knew. “For…a few nights ago when…” Gamora watched Rocket toil within himself, trying to force the words out between who knew how many inner debates. The look on his face was pained, she knew exhaustion, both physical and emotional. There was no sense in making him continue that which was clearly difficult for him to say. Gamora supposed he’d had enough of a hard time these past few weeks. 

“Your welcome Rocket.” She watched him glance up at her, eyes squinting at her as if trying to discern if her words were true. He shrugged after a moment, going back to his work. Gamora waited, listening. No more shouting yells from Groot. She stood, going to the engine room to find Groot skulking in the corner. He sat in Rocket’s own bed, little arms crossed.  

“Groot?” She weighted the approach even as she knelt down by him. Whenever she misbehaved as a child, Thanos would lock her in that dark room for days on end. No food, no water, no one to talk to. If she were especially bad he’d just have one of his goons shock her through her own cybernetics. No lessons, no explaining what she had done wrong.

 Thanos taught her nothing but violence and transgression. Groot looked at her, glaring and she felt a stone drop in her chest. The Groot who had saved them all had such large, loving eyes. Sure he’d technically disobeyed Rocket in the Kyln and took the large battery in the prison but even Rocket hadn’t punished him for that.

“Groot,” she tried. “you cannot just eat candy, you can’t just take people’s weapons or clothes and hide them around the ship.” He only looked at her blankly. “Groot?” She snapped, “do you understand me?” 

“I am Groot!” He yelled, uncurling himself and standing. Gamora didn’t need to totally understand what he had said in order to get the message.  That’s it! She thought, that spark of anger flared within her, old habits die hard. She reached for her sword, unsheathing it though she did not point it towards him. 

“You cannot continue to disobey us!” She roared, quelling him to shrink back. As Thanos had done uncountable times.

“I am Groot!”  He shrank back, one arm bracing, growing protective little thorns from his vines. Gamora’s rage cleared,

“Groot,” she breathed, putting her sword back. “Groot, I’m sorry…” He peeked out from under his covering, waiting. Gamora swallowed the urge to curse herself. So Thanos’s influence over her was not yet gone. “Groot I’m so sorry,” she whispered. The little tree slowly creeped closer and she opened the palm of her hand to him to crawl into. The weight of his ability to forgive, and her own impulse to violence filled her head with darkness and shame. How? After all this, time even after she had been able to soothe Rocket, she just as easily gave into anger. 

“I am Groot,” Groot said softly as they made their way back to the common area. Gamora set him down on the table with Rocket.

“You mind havin’ a word with Star-wimp about getting us another job?” Rocket grumbled, “I’m gonna need more zygin bolts if I’m ever gonna get this kurtukan thing to work.” 

“The fourth quadrant has over three hundred and sixty-three planets,” Gamora reasoned, reaching for a pot in the kitchen and boiling water. Fravarian tea did wonders to soothe aching muscles after a good sparing session. “At least two hundred and seventy five of them are bound to hire us for some job,” she sat down again beside them. “Even if it’s something low-profile.” Rocket didn’t seem convinced but he shut his mouth and continued to work. Groot handed him things as he asked for them. She watched, pouring the water when it was ready and smelling the fruit like aroma of the tea. 

“Rocket can I ask you something?” Gamora had been putting it off, it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask for a while. But given what she had just done, she felt she needed to know. The enhanced creature did not make a smart remark or walk away so she took it as a signal to continue. She took a sip from her tea. Making sure that the tarbuline bomb was still un-operational.

“When Groot….when he said ‘we are Groot,’ what…what did he mean?” Even as she finished she put a hand to her sword hold just in case. Rocket’s ear twitched. He looked at Groot, who slid down the table, babbling something incoherently. The enhanced mammal put down his tools, she watched him take a deep breath. But he didn’t leave or more remarkably, didn't shoot her. “He said we are Groot. That’s what he meant.” Little Groot himself was over in the kitchen, experimentally inspecting the cooling water Gamora had boiled.  Rocket turned and she watched his chest fill with something that was probably a mixture of relief and sadness. “Please,” he moved his gaze down to the floor. “Don’t ask me what it meant….I don't know." He admitted, "and even if I did...I gotta keep those words to myself....” 

“I understand,” Rocket’s ears flicked back and he glared at her, “No yah don’t. None of you do.”

“Rocket I’m sorry, I should’ve asked.” He got up, hefting the bomb and walking taking Groot with him.

“Yeah I’m sorry too,” he huffed, storming away. She watched him go, shaking her head. This close, he seemed to be doing better. Until he didn’t. Gamora made her way to the cock-pit, hand resting on the back of Peter’s chair.

“How long has it been?”

“Since we had a job?” Peter asked, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at seeing her. “Too long. I think our best shot is to head straight for Yulenn, one of the cities there is a frequent smuggling port for ravagers. We offer them a slightly lower price to transport any of their goods, I’m sure we can work out some sort of deal.”

“Since you apologized to Rocket.” Gamora clarified, she slid an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m not apologizing to him! It’s him who is being ridiculous!” The assassin woman rolled her eyes,

“Oh get over yourself Peter! Don’t you get it?” She turned around to face him, “this isn’t about you, it’s not even all about Rocket, it’s about Groot.” Peter pushed the auto-pilot and Gamora leaned against the consul, arms crossed. “It’s about Groot,” Gamora huffed, watching Peter’s gaze. “What you said to Rocket, what you called him, truly hurt him. He is struggling to take care of Groot,” we all are, she thought internally. But one look at Peter’s consideration made her get straight to the point. “You have to apologize to Rocket for Groot’s sake, so that Rocket can take better are of him. He is going through enough without agonizing over what you called him.”

Peter nodded, looking up at her.

“Fine,” he finally said. “For Groot, I owe Groot that.”

“We all owe him,” she said as he unbuckled. Peter nodded, “your right.”

“Rocket?” Peter crept into the storage unit of the Milano where he was sure he heard the creature rummaging around. He spotted the raccoon like animal rummaging through the storage bay, on all fours, up on the top shelf rummaging through a box. Wires and cables tumbled down while Rocket threw them down, crashing to the floor. “Rocket can I talk to you?”

“I am Groot!” The flora colossus grew his vines out to the opposite side of the room and swung across, lauging before landing and running towards Peter. 

“Hey there buddy,” Peter smiled at him. Groot climbed up his pant leg until he rested on his shoulder.

“Rocket, you got a minute?” The animal in question only continued to ransack the box, pulling out cords and motors and who knew what sort of machinery. He stepped closer, tilting his head at the right angel the metal implants just below Rocket’s collar-bones gleamed against the brown fur. 

“This better be about a new job Star-Freak.” The insult hit Peter in his chest, but he took a deep breath for once, knowing no good end would come to further bickering. “It’s not about a job Rocket.”

“Then wha…Groot! Don’t touch that!” Peter turned to see Groot frozen before an opened gun of some sorts, the parts all taken out and broken.

“I am Groot!”

“Because it’s dangerous and you’ll die if you mess with it.” Groot frowned but made no further moves towards the gun. 

“I am Groot?” Rocket pocked his head out from the box, 

“Yes really!” Groot considered for a moment but decided to move on to try and wrap his vines around another shelf. 

“Keeping him busy I see,” Peter gestured to Groot by way of putting off the actual reason he came. Rocket just rolled his eyes and scurried toward another shelf, hopping down and then crawling to an adjacent bin of discarded weapons. “I shouldn’t have called you Sub…” he faltered, “…you know…” Rocket’s ears were flattened against his skull the next time he poked his head up. Drax and Gamora were right. Peter thought, if this was the price he had to pay for what Groot had done for them then it was well worth it. As if on que little Groot screamed as there was a loud bang. 

“Groot!” In a flash both Peter and Rocket ran to him, the little crack in Rocket’s voice did not go unnoticed. Groot ran into Rocket’s arms, vines wrapping around his legs. 

“I am Groot!” Peter watched Rocket’s face spark in surprise. “I am Groot!” The flora colossus cried.

“Yeah that’s why you gotta be careful!” Rocket reprimanded, Peter watched the pair of them, suppressing a smirk, and then, failing to suppress it.

“And you say you’re not his dad,” he smirked. Rocket glared pointedly, baring his teeth.

“Shut up,” another whimper from Groot brought the creature’s attention back down. He picked Groot up, holding him to his chest by cupping his paw around Groot’s back with hand and holding him up with the other. Peter watched, remembering the warm close scent of his own mother when she would hold him during a nightmare or a storm. How she’d envelop him in safety and he’d melt against her, her calm steady heart-beat thrumming in his little ears. Peter sighed, watching as Rocket continued to speak with Groot. Uncharacteristically gentle and patient. For once. The words of Peter’s mother came echoing back to him, “sometimes the toughest and meanest people are the most scared and weak,” she’d tell him whenever Adam Rifus on another bully would be mean to him. As a kid her words always made him mad. Whatever personal problems you had, that was no excuse to be mean to others. But in time he’d seen she was right about these words too, just like everything else.

“Just don’t do it again okay?” Rocket conceited.

“I am Groot!” Groot retracted his vines and reached for the screwdriver Rocket had handed him.

“Go see if you can get that gun working over there,” he pointed to a small rifle at Peter’s feet. Just like that any confidence in Rocket’s parenting abilities wavered.

“Dude! Your letting him play with a gun?”

“Relax it’s a fake,” Rocket stood up, turning his back to go walk back to the box he was going through. Peter reached out an arm, catching himself before he dare touch the creature. 

“Rocket wait!” Against all odds, Rocket turned, eyes skeptical. This was it, Peter realized. Just suck it up and do it.

“I shouldn’t have called you that stupid string of cereal numbers,” he started, trying to speak as quickly as possible before Rocket could cut him off. “You were dealing with loosing Groot and trying to take care of this new Groot and I didn’t like how you were doing it.” 

“Tsch, fuck you Star…” 

“I was wrong Rocket.” Peter unfolded his arms, “When my mom died I….I didn’t handle it nearly as well as you have…and I don’t know what I’d do if I had to take care of a baby version of her .” Rocket’s brows furrowed in confusion, “whatever. The point is I shouldn’t have judged. I felt terrible for Groot…” he swallowed, “I didn’t want him to die….I guess I just keep thinking of this Groot as a baby version of the old Groot because it’s easier then dealing with the loss.” Rocket nodded so subtly Peter did not notice. “You’re a lot of things Rocket, but you aren’t an animal or a subject or a pet. I won’t do it again.” I should have rehearsed that more, Peter thought, rubbing the back of his head upon finishing.

Rocket’s eyes looked at Groot who was now beating the screw driver against the toy gun in a rage. 

“Groot picked it out,” Rocket stated after a time. “When we were escaping Halfworld there were five ships after us….I climbed out to the wing of the ship and managed to dislodge a Qutellian rocket launcher from the top of our ship, I fiddled with it and sent it flying. It took out all five ships.” Rocket refused to look at him, but didn’t follow Groot when he toddled away. “When Groot asked what he should call me, I had no idea. ‘How about Rocket?’ he asked me,” Peter watched a tiny grin from the side of Rocket’s mouth. “It sounded good to me. Anything was better than whatever they called me back there. I’d never had a name….I was never worth a name…until I met Groot and he saved me.” And he saved me, Rocket’s stone cold, cracked soul whispered to his frayed, exhausted mind.

“Well it suits you,” Peter spoke quickly, eager to seal the deal of apology. “We’ll help you too, taking care of Groot.” 

“Whatever,” Rocket shrugged, the spell broken. He pushed passed Peter, going after Groot. 

“By the way,” Peter called after him, “we have a new job.” This made Rocket stop, turning over his shoulder. “Do you know anything about annulax battery’s?” This made the enhanced mammal grin from ear to ear.

“Why do you want to know Star-Loser?” 

That night, as the Milano coasted ever closer to the Sovereign Groot collapsed sleepily into a ball of cords and wires Rocket had been messing with.

“Groot, axuan wrench, c’mon!” Rocket waited, “flark it Groot you know this one! It’s got the part with the…” he turned over his shoulder, lifting the protective helmet he’d designed and beheld Groot fast asleep. His tiny body curled on his side, holding the wrench in his hands.  He looked so peaceful, so serene, things Rocket never felt. I’m glad Groot does, he deserves it, Rocket thought. He remembered a time on Halfworld when Groot held his hand through the bars of his cage after an unending torturous day. In fits of pain Rocket clutched that hand, holding on to it like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He realized too late, that it actually was indeed the only thing keeping him alive. If only holding on to Groot had been enough to save him. Looking around, hearing only the engine Rocket set aside his tools and slowly picked Groot up, holding him gently in his hands. 

“I’m gonna try buddy. Don’t know what good it’ll do…but flark it Peter was right.” He sat himself down on the makeshift bed. “Gamora and Drax, they were right.” Slowly Rocket cradled the little plant close to his chest. Groot buddy, if your watching me now…I bed you’d be laughing your idiot head off, Rocket thought with a chuckle. Groot’s small vines curled around Rocket’s wrist gently. Rocket watched him sleep, not knowing what would come of tomorrow. In that moment it didn’t seem to matter. What was that song he’d heard Peter blasting a few days ago? It wasn’t half bad. Gently rocking Groot he curled his knees up, putting his friend close to his chest. He remembered the words of the song, but he’d half to change some of it to better fit.

Unconscious of anything but the two of them, Rocket slowly began to whisper sing.

“He’s got a smile it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories where every day was as fresh as the bright blue sky.” Groot stirred nuzzling into Rocket’s palm. “Oh, oh, oh, sweet child of mine. Oh, oh, oh, sweet love, of mine, oh, oh, oh, sweet friend of mine.” Rocket watched while Groot gently slumbered and he smiled to himself. “he’s got eyes of the deepest green, flourishing in the rain, I’d hate to look in to those eyes and see and ounce of pain.” As if on cue, Groot’s large eyes opened a sliver, looking up at Rocket. The creature smiled, heart full of something comforting and warm. For a moment, he thought he could see the eyes of his old Groot looking back at him. This Groot was different, but the love he felt was the same.