Panic Attack

Untitled Part 3

Drax shook his head at the thought of the small ring-tailed creature. The way he had stormed in earlier that day. He knew he wasn't the only one that had noticed that Rocket was on edge. In fact, he had almost followed Groot when their smaller comrade had practically ran to his private quarters, but had decided against it.

He knew that despite the bond between the five guardians, Rocket was by far the most secretive, especially toward him. Drax knew the raccoon wasn't his closest friend, and he knew why too, the weight of that guilt piling up on his every time his comrade refused to hold a conversation with him or even go on a simple mission with the burly man.

"I didn't ask to be made! I didn't ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over, turn into some little… monster."

The words still haunted Drax to that day. He knew nothing of the creature's past before that day. And still knew little of it now besides the fact that the poor animal had obviously had spent part of his life in some sort of torturous science facility.

He also hated himself for his unfamiliarity to the concept of 'shutting up,' as Quill had called it. Being a fairly outspoken species, Drax wasn't quite accustomed to not speaking his mind. He now knew to think before calling Rocket 'rodent' or 'vermin' knowing now that the titles were harmful to his friend. He was truly getting the hang of the concept, although the words did end up slipping out during times of anger or confusion and he always regretted them instantly upon seeing the creature's eyes widen in hurt before his defensive mechanism took over, which usually meant pulling out a gun.

Drax frowned upon the thought, reaching for some of the clear bottled liquid 'hidden' in the top shelf when an unfamiliar sound made him freeze. He retracted his muscular arm, looking over his shoulder to listen for the noise again… Nothing.

The man pressed his lips into a fine line, he could have sworn that he had heard something. He pulled down the bottle and made his way back to the front of the ship to clean his knife, or stare out the window, or maybe he would just clean his knife again. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig of the foul liquid, cringing at the taste. He didn't know what the appeal to the drink was, but at least it took his mind off of his guilt fueled thoughts.

That is until he heard the noise again, making him almost drop the bottle in surprise, dripping splotches of the burning drink onto his bare chest. He ignored the cold liquid as he turned away from control panel of the ship, placing the bottle on the table covered in scattered papers and machinery.

Walking back towards the corridor of the ship that linked to the guardians' rooms, Drax listened carefully, trying to pin point exactly where the noise was coming from. "No, stop! Please!" Drax practically took off down the hallway upon hearing the voice shouting, although he didn't understand exctly what was happening.

The voice obviously belonged to Rocket, had he already made Gamora angry at this time of day? No, the creature was far too proud to plead at the hands of any of his companions. Had someone else gotten aboard the ship whilst he had gone to get a drink? Quill was going to kill him.

Drax veered around the corner, his feet sounding loudly off the metallic floor until he made his way to the furthest room. He reached out to grasp the handle and open the door to his friend's room when he realized that there was no handle. In fact, there wasn't even a door.

The man furrowed his brow, staring in confusion at the mangled slab of steel lying on the floor of both Groot and Rocket's bedroom floor. It looked as though it had been run through with some sort of pole, although upon further inspection it could have very possibly been the incredibly strong and indestructible arm of a certain wooden creature.