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CHAPTER 8
• • •
OMNISCIENT
Peter walks across the ship as it flies, no exact destination set. He stops short, seeing Rocket taking apart his ship.
''Woah, woah, woah.'' Peter called. ''Yo, Ranger Rick! What are you doing? You can't take apart my ship without asking me! See, what is this?'' He gestures down to the small device sitting near Rocket.
In a neutral tone, Rocket responded. ''Don't touch that, it's a bomb.''
Peter was quite the opposite. ''A bomb?'' He shouted.
''Yep.''
''And you leave it lying around?''
''I was gonna put it in a box.''
''What's a box gonna do?'' He threw his arms in the air, watching as Rocket searched around.
He pulled out a crate from a desk drawer, pulling out a small, rectangular wrapped box. It was the present that Peter had received from his mother before she died. He never opened it.
''How about this one?'' Rocket asks, turning the box.
Peter panicked a bit. ''No! Woah! Hey, hey, hey!'' He grabbed the box from Rocket, stuffing it back into the crate and shutting it back into the desk drawer. ''Leave it alone.''
''Why? What's is it?''
''Shut up.''
Quill pointed to another thing Rocket had pulled out of the ship. He was surprised it was still flying in the first place.
''What is that?''
Rocket grew giddy at the mention of it. ''That's for if things get really hardcore. Or if you wanna blow up moons.''
Gamora walks in, deadpanned. ''No one's blowing up moons.''
''You just wanna suck the joy out of everything.'' Rocket scoffed.
''Blowing up moons? Sounds like fun.'' [Y/n] shrugged from the couch.
Rocket gestured his paw over to her. ''Thank you!''
[Y/n] was out of the orange gettup they had at the Kyln, now dressed in a hoodie that Peter had cut down enough to fit her. Although, it was still a little big on her small frame.
Gamora cut in. ''Don't encourage him.''
''Y'know,'' Peter started, growing frustrated. ''I don't see why we need two of you.''
He walked over to the couch, pulling [Y/n] up and holding her by the back of her neck.
''Hey!'' She shouted, clawing at his hand. It was useless, seeing as he was unfazed about it and she couldn't get a good grip to the top of his hand.
Rocket looked over, catching the sight as he glared at Quill.
''We already have one maniac, I'd rather not have another on this ship.'' Peter shook his hand a bit, tightening his grip. [Y/n] gave a short yelp, hiding it behind a low growl.
''Quill, put her down!'' Rocket shouted, standing up from his workspace on the floor.
''Whatchu gonna do if I don't? Huh?''
''Ever wanted to know how it feels to have a gun shoved up your ass?'' Rocket threatened, taking a step closer to Quill. ''Put her down.''
[Y/n] breathing quickened a bit, as she kept trying to wriggle her way out of Peter's hand. Again, she was unsuccessful. He tail lashed and her ears were pinned back against her head. She tried turning her head to face Peter, but wasn't able to with the tight grip at the back of her neck.
Peter took a second, squinting at Rocket.
''I could just throw her out the window.'' Peter moved [Y/n] closer to the window.
Something flickered behind Rocket's eyes, passion? Fear? Peter had noticed, his eyes softened at the sight. He glanced back to [Y/n] before looking back to Rocket, connecting the two.
''Put her down.''
It sounded more of a beg than it did a threat this time, though it was still hidden behind his low voice. Peter nodded, slowly putting [Y/n] back into the ground.
''All right.'' He spoke, letting go of her neck.
Peter watched as Rocket rushed towards [Y/n], kneeling down beside her. His paw on her back as she rubbed the back of her neck. Despite the earlier quarrel, he gave a soft smile at the heartwarming sight.
He moved on, asking Gamora about her buyer while the two mammals had a moment.
Rocket looked at the back of her neck, seeing that nothing major had happened.
''I'm fine,'' [Y/n] spoke, starting to stand. ''He didn't do anything.''
Even though she had said that she was fine, Rocket wanted to disagree. He gritted his teeth, standing beside her.
''Just making sure.'' Rocket replied. ''I assume you want part of the money. Don't need anything happening before that.''
[Y/n] hummed, talking note of Drax walking off. He had said something about using the orb as a weapon against Ronan. Gamora had commented about how filthy the ship currently was.
Peter scoffed. ''Oh, she has no idea. If I had a black light, the place would look like a Jackson Pollock painting.'' He seemed to be in his own world, imagining the place as he described it.
''You got issues, Quill.'' Rocket glared to the Terran.
As Rocket walked away from Quill, the Terran watched as the two mammals moved away from each other. Both sitting on either side of the room. [Y/n] sat by the window, watching as the galaxy raced by the glass pane.
Rocket went back to his station on the floor. He only picked up a few things before he slowly set them back down again.
Looking over to [Y/n], Rocket didn't know what had happened. One moment he was making bombs from the parts of the ship and the next, well, he was scared. And he hated to admit that, even to himself.
His eyes gazed over to [Y/n], who brought her paw up to rub the back of her neck again. The ghost of Quill's hand still feeling like it was pulling at her fur.
Rocket sighed. He never felt this way before and he never thought he would. About anyone. He worked slower on his bomb, before ultimately dropping his tool on the ground. Lightly, as to not make a huge commotion.
