Built for Destruction

Untitled Part 7

"So let me get this straight." Peter said, allowing his head to fall into the palm of his hand, massaging his temple with his thumb. "Rocket's going to this 'Halfworld' place to..." He used his free hand to gesture for someone to continue his thought.

"To 'fix' himself." Gamora finished candidly, crossing her arms and turning back to the controls of the Milano. The remaining four Guardians had come back after discovering Rocket's plan, making sure to take the shattered tablet with them, although the light had flickered out already.

"He is going to kill himself." Drax put in, his voice full of resentment.

"What, you don't think he has a plan?" Peter asked, pulling his hand down far enough so that he could make eye contact with the larger man. Rocket had to have a plan, right? This was Rocket they were talking about, he always had a plan, always had a way out. Hell, the ringtail never stopped bragging about the fact that he had been an escapee of what was now twenty-three prisons.

He had to have a way out.

"I believe he is desperate." Drax responded, almost shouting as he slammed a hand down on the table. "Desperate enough to get himself killed."

"Drax is right." Gamora agreed, nodding curtly towards the tattooed man and pulling up the files Nova had released to them on Halfworld on their own monitor. "Peter, I don't think that this is an instance where Rocket has even thought anything through. I don't think there is much of any plan going to his head at this point."

"But he's not suicidal." Peter argued. "I mean he-"

"He isn't Rocket anymore, Peter. At least not all of him." Gamora interrupted. "You saw what he did to Groot, to you." She said, gesturing both to the quite nervous looking tree hovering over the controls of the Milano and back to Peter's stitched up arm.

"I am Groot." The Flora Colossus said solemnly, gesturing to the screen that continued to scroll through Halfworld data, most of which Peter had already elected to ignore.

Peter didn't know much about the raccoon's past, and to be honest, he didn't think he wanted to. It had been made obvious to the Guardians back on Knowhere that Rocket's secretive past held nothing but pain and suffering, a great amount of his life had been spent believing he was nothing but a mistake created in that damned lab. And more often than not, Peter wondered if Rocket still believed that.

Seeing the raccoon's upper lip curl into a snarl when someone on the street points at 'that thing' or the way he tenses when some asshole at a bar decides to mistakenly wrench the 'little rat' from his stool and onto the floor, the Guardians were quick to catch on to what set their smallest comrade off. In fact, they had all become rather protective of the ring-tailed Guardian, much to Rocket's disapproval. Always complaining that he was fully capable of handling whichever offender had dared to pull at his sensitive tail.

No one had really thought to question Rocket's past, deciding unanimously that he would open up to them if he felt the need to. And to their dismay, he had. In small ways, of course, walking about the Milano with his trademark shirt missing from his torso, leaving his implants and scars out in the open, or allowing the taller teammates to stroke his fur every once and a while. Rocket wasn't the open book type and was certainly hesitant still about letting his guard down completely with the others. But the others certainly noticed when he did, and practically relished in the feeling of finding that he was only finding that he could trust them that much more.