Panic Attack

Untitled Part 15

And the tree being had returned the favor, often times losing control of his 'peaceful' self entirely when one of the locals decided to call his Rocket a freak, not even waiting for the raccoon to reach for his own gun before lunging at the perpetrator himself. One instance being that night on Knowhere with Drax the Destroyer himself, having lost sight of everything except for the man who had dared to make the drunken Rocket's fur to bristle with the thoughts of his past.

He knew why Rocket was so hesitant to trust anyone, and that the only one he had ever truly trusted was Groot himself. He was afraid he would be sent back. The tree man had never actually brought up the subject of Halfworld or the events that had occurred there with his friend, but he knew everything nonetheless.

Having woken his flailing and screaming friend from countless nightmares since meeting him, Groot had picked up on what exactly had taken place while Rocket was on that horrible planet, to the point that Rocket began even flat out telling him exactly what the nightmare was about before curling back up in a ball in his friend's arms.

Having been with Rocket for a matter of years, Groot had managed to pick up on the raccoon's quirks and ways of aggression towards others, including the other Guardians. He trusted them, although not as much as he did his larger counterpart, but Groot knew his fear wasn't that they would send him back to Halfworld, it was that they would see him for what he saw in himself.

A monster.

A freak.

And what killed Groot the most was that not only did Rocket believe the others saw him as some ruthless creature, but he himself saw only that when he traced the scars on his chest absentmindedly or tugged up at his jumpsuit that extra half inch just to assure that the cybernetics marring his entire torso couldn't be seen from any angle.

He could only wonder what it would take for Rocket to open himself up to them, especially after their last endeavor in losing him to the remaining Halfworlders.

Staring down at his unmoving friend, Groot could only let out a struggled whine, reaching forward to let his hand brush the fur of the raccoon's face softly, hoping to gain a response, only to frown sadly when Rocket's eyes remained shut, his head lolling to the side lazily.

"You know, he's not gonna get any actual rest in if you keep trying to wake him up."

Groot turned sharply toward the voice, smiling widely upon seeing Peter peering in through the open door. "I am Groot." He said solemnly, knowing that the Star Lord wouldn't be able to understand him anyhow with his translator still unconscious.

Peter pursed his lips into a straight line, shuffling into the room. "May I?" He asked, gesturing to a chair to Groot's right, to which he could only nod, looking back to face Rocket's unmoving body as the human sat down beside him, eyes trained on the raccoon's small chest as is rose and fell, making sure that, in his silent state, Rocket had not actually deceased.

"No sign of waking up yet?" Quill said, crossing his arms across his chest. Groot shook his head. Peter leaned forward in his chair, nudging the tree man's arm and gesturing back to the door. "You know, I can keep watch for a little while if you want to take a break, I'm sure the others would love the company. Heh, I don't actually think Drax has even looked up from shining his knives since we set our course back to Xandar." He laughed, putting a hand over his heart. "I promise that if he so much as moves, you'll be the first to know."

Groot shook his head again, looking down towards Rocket pointedly. "I am Groot." He said defensively. He knew that when Rocket woke up, he was going to be less than calm upon being in yet another white room filled with the acrid smell of anesthetic and his own blood, and he was going to make sure that he was there to assure his friend of his safety.