Uh huh. [ He isn't even offended. There are a lot of reasons why many alien species across the galaxy consider Earth a backwater planet, but some have also realized that humans are a particular brand of insane and stubborn that is better left alone and not messed with. Even Thanos learned that lesson the hard way.
Peter is actually smirking because humans aren't even the weirdest species this planet has ever produced. ]
You should look up Angler Fish's reproductive habits, and then you can come and tell me what you think about that. [ It will be very enlightening for Rocket, he's sure. Half of his pancakes now gone, Peter tilts his head and considers that assumption. ]
I can see where the mistake comes from. But if that were the case, I'd have hooked up with 90% of the Galaxy, including Nebula.
[ It's Peter's turn to scrunch up his nose because... no. Talk about wrong and gross. He loves her in an entirely different way, thank you very much.
Rocket was right that throwing feelings around when they're hungover is not the greatest idea. Not to say that it wouldn't do them good to talk more openly about certain issues, but those still hurt too much, no matter how much time has passed.
He simply nods at the subdued 'yeah' rather than responding further, his gaze going distant as he chews, his mind lost on past memories until Rocket speaks again. ]
I've only told the full story to my Gramps, while his new wife knows a less detailed explanation, I didn't want to freak her out. Jason knows how and why I disappeared as a kid, but not the details about how things were with the Ravagers while I grew up with them. He also knows about you guys, how we saved the Galaxy a few times, and that Ego is no more. He actually remembered that bastard.
[ Basically, Peter gave him a sanitized and PG version of their adventures because his grandfather didn't need more stress in his life. No mention of the Klyn prison, the High Evolutionary, and the like. ]
He asked me if I was ever planning to give him grandkids, and I told him that he's already got one and that he's a tree. My grandfather laughed about it, so I'm pretty sure he's cool with the whole alien thing.
[ Peter smiles at Rocket after that. He's lucky that his family is that accepting after how much Earth has suffered because of some alien mess or another, it came as a huge relief. ]
How are things going in Knowhere? I bet Groot's even taller now, he looked bigger the last time we had a video call.
Nah, no way, I'm not falling for that one again. Not after Nat made me watch that documentary about salmon.
[He's starting to look slightly more at home in the land of the living as the carbs and coffee do their job, steadily demolishing the stack in front of him with the diligence of someone who's learned some hard lessons in their time about what happens when food isn't so readily available. He snorts and shakes his head] Yeah, Nebs would skin you just for having that thought out loud [Figuratively, anyway. She's not doing so bad herself on the whole 'being a person' front lately.
He finishes clearing his plate as he absently nods along with the summary of what Peter's told his family. Sounds like it's hit the highlights for sure, and maybe glossed over some of the lows they really don't need to be going over again. He knows he's vey firmly at one particular extreme of the talk about your feelings vs repress it forever scale, but man, there's some shit where cracking it open again's never going to do anyone any good.
It's really something to behold, the way Rocket's entire demeanour just softens slightly as they come around to the topic of Groot] Yeah, damn. Guess I at least had a good couple years there where he was still shorter than me. Dunno what he'll top out at. Or...if he will, really. He might just keep going.
[He shrugs and takes a swig of coffee] Things are going pretty good. We've about got everything patched up from all that shit that went down, and the new recruits are shaping up. Mostly we're looking at getting our hands on some more ships.
You're not fun at all. [ Says Peter with a shit-eating smile. Pity that Nate got him first, it would have been so funny to see Rocket's reaction. Salmon are weird as hell, so that was a good one on her part.
Smiling still in place, Peter waves at the waitress when she walks past close to them and asks for another round of pancakes, some more juice, and extra coffee. It's helping both of them to feel more like themselves, so it's worth overindulging for once. She nods and returns the smile, then goes to fetch the new order. ]
She would, most likely. But I like to think she might feel a little bit bad afterward too. I've grown on her over the years, I am very lovable.
[ Joking aside, Peter knows Nebual has changed a lot from the first time they met and they had gotten closer. One of the reasons is a kind of shared pain over losing Gamora, but still. Nebula could have left and didn't, could have gone with the other Gamora but stayed with the Guardians instead. They're family.
He's not at all surprised to see the other man relax and cheerful at the mention of Groot. He knows Rocket is a softie on the inside. Very very deep inside, but it's there. It makes Peter smile too. ]
Ey, that means we've been taking good care of him and that he's healthy. [ The original Groot was nowhere that wide, even if he was also really tall. Peter sees the change in the new Groot as a positive thing. ] I miss his little self sometimes, he was really cute and easy to carry on a shoulder. A troublemaker, though. He got that from you.
[ Because of course, Peter had always been a model citizen and father figure, not at all doing crazy and questionable shit on the regular. ]
If the only concern is getting new ships, then that's fantastic news. It's good to hear that things and people are doing well. We all needed a break after...you know. After. [ He's trying to be subtle, but it's not as if that ever worked for them. They're experts at not talking about the things they don't talk about. Peter gives up on the pretense very quickly. ] You doing okay? And I am asking for real, don't give me a bullshit answer now that there's no one else around.
[Obviously he snorts and shakes his head at Peter describing himself as lovable, but...man, there's no denying that they probably would have splintered and all gone their separate ways after Ronan if it wasn't for Peter's weird force of personality holding them together. They never would have had the chance to grow into what they are now without that]
Hell yeah he did [His grin gets wider and smugger at the acknowledgement that he's responsible for Groot's penchant for trouble. But man, it is nice to think that they did a decent job looking after the little guy after Xandar. They wouldn't exactly have been anyone's first choice to raise a kid, even one that didn't ask for much more than water and light and occasionally some fresh soil, so it's good to see that at least they don't seem to have fucked him up too bad.
A tired sigh falls from his lips as the conversation wanders round to what it was probably always going to. He jabs a little more emphatically at his pancakes than necessary, eyes on his plate, before putting the fork down entirely and scrubbing his hands over his face]
I don't know what you want me to say, man. I didn't exactly love having all the worst shit in my life cracked open for everyone to see.
[ They were all different degrees of fucked up when they first met, and they all saved each other eventually. Fighting together for Xandar might have been the first step, but it was the fact they all decided to keep trying, together, that made the Guardians what they are now. Peter considers himself lucky for that.
He nudges Rocket's foot again after hearing that snort. ]
I don't think you're supposed to be that proud of his bad habits. [ But it also comes as no surprise that he is. Considering their shitty backgrounds, they all did a fantastic job at raising a kid. Peter thinks they earned the right to boast about it, even if he complains to Rocket.
He feels a bit bad for bringing up exactly what his friend doesn't want to hear, but it feels like it's a conversation long overdue, and this is as good a time as ever. ]
That I can understand, It's never pleasant. [ Seeing Rocket hooked up to medical equipment and flatlining on the table right in front of his eyes did no favors to Peter's own traumas. Even now that is over, he can't stop himself from thinking about the What If every other day. ]
Since the cat is out of the bag already, maybe addressing it could help. As a way to exorcise the demons and the like. It's what people used to tell me. [ He keeps his voice low, it doesn't feel right to speak of these sorts of things in his usual tone. ] I thought...I thought you were going to die on us back then. I don't know what I would have done if that had happened.
[ Probably fall further into depression and alcoholism. Peter doesn't have the most stellar coping mechanism when people he cares about die. It had happened a lot of times already. ]
[He sits back in his seat and gives Peter a wearily sceptical look across the remains of breakfast] How is dragging it all out again supposed to help?
[There's a lot that comes churning through his head when he thinks too hard about what happened. There's anger, of course, and grief, and there's fucking shame at the fact that when hs past came knocking to fuck everything up, he couldn't even stand up and fight back himself. There's something uneasy and confusing he doesn't even know how to classify at seeing how far everyone else was willing to go just for him. There's so much more he hasn't even had a chance to sort through.
But the thought of talking about it sits in the pit of his stomach like a lead brick. The only thing worse than the fact that it happened is the fact that everyone else knows about it. The way he feels about this the only thing he's got left no-one's had a chance to pry open. The last thing he wants to is to crack it all open again and have someone see.
That defensive hunch is back in his body language as he folds his arms in front of him and draws his shoulders in, eyes fixed on the table]
I would rather have died clean than ever gone back there.
[ It's a fair question, one that Peter has asked himself for years in the past. He doesn't answer Rocket immediately.
The Ravagers in general and Yondu in particular weren't exactly the type of people you talked with about these things, either. You had to tough it up and move on. And Peter loved the guy, he was the closest thing to a real father he ever had, but there also had been a lot of conflict between them because they were both incapable of finding the right outlets to express their emotions. Yondu often accused Peter of being too emotional for his own good, and in return, Peter thought of him as a heartless bastard. Then their fights would escalate into proper violence, and nothing really got resolved.
It wasn't until he spent more time with the Guardians that Peter had finally, painfully slow at times too, learned better ways to handle his past traumas. He likes to think they all did, that their little group had become enough of a safety net that the others would feel comfortable enough to share their worries or fears if they needed to, but Rocket always had a harder time than others, including Nebula. ]
Don't you ever feel like you're choking on your own emotions?
[ Because that's how Peter had felt in the past. Still does, sometimes. All the rage and frustration, the guilt, shame, and sorrow of past mistakes, pilling up in his chest with no way to go. He doesn't know how to put it in words properly, not in a way Rocket wouldn't find ridiculous or mock. But Peter tries, because he loves the guy, and they all left these sorts of issues unchecked for too long. ]
They're like... a balloon filling up with air in your chest, not leaving room for anything else, pressure building up. [ Peter gestures vaguely towards his torso with the hand still holding the empty fork, eyes looking everywhere but Rocket at the moment. ] And if you do nothing, it's going to explode eventually, catastrophically so, and ruin you and anyone near. Talking helps with that. If you can vent out your emotions, the balloon starts to deflate.
[ Okay, the metaphor got away from him a bit, but the main idea is there. He just wishes he could express it better. Peter sighs at the view of Rocket hunched in on himself, his own shoulders slumping. ]
I know. And talking won't change what happened, but it can make the memories less heavy. I know you don't owe me shit, you don't need to talk to me specifically. You also don't need to carry all that alone, is what I'm saying.
[As the balloon metaphor meanders on, the slightest bit of tension bleeds out of him, his expression softening into something more like confusion. By the end of it he's looking at Peter much the same way he would a piece of machinery that's just done something baffling he's not even sure how to begin diagnosing]
I always thought of it more like a dam. Can't drive the turbines 'til you've built some pressure up behind 'em.
[Everyone's got something that drives them. For him...well, part of it's curiosity, and part of it's definitely spite, but the blazing sun everything else orbits around has always, always been anger. Anger about what happened to him and the others, about being the only one who got out, about having to figure out how to keep on living after all of it when the rest of the universe didn't give a shit. Anger is what's kept him moving forward all this time when it would have been so much easier just to curl up somewhere and give in to the inevitable. He's not going to pretend to be sorry about that]
Look, they didn't— [He grimaces faintly, looking like he's tasted something unpleasant, and huffs a short, irritable sigh] I'm gonna say this once, okay?
I didn't get to keep anything. They cut out anythin' they thought we'd look better without, fuckin'...shot us full of muscle relaxants so we couldn't struggle, kept us so doped up we didn't even get to be angry or scared. I'm...I don't know how old I am, man. I don't know if I ever had a family, or a name. Whatever they did to my head messed it up so bad that the first thing I fucking remember is that surgical table.
[He picks up the fork again, eyes down and voice dropping to a furious mutter]
So yeah, sure, I'm angry and I'm fucked up over it. And that's mine. I had to fight to get to even have that much, and no-one gets to take it away again.
[ Rocket needs to stop looking at him like that, it makes him feel awkward. Peter gives him a defensive half glare for that confused look, as if to say 'WHAT????', but there's no heat behind it. Look, he never claimed to be good at this feelings stuff, he just knows it's better to talk about them sometimes. ]
Dams get fucked up and break too, you know.
[ Living out of spite is something Peter could relate to; it's more sustainable than living out of anger, but both are exhausting options. He also knows that more often than not his own anger is a mask to hide a different emotion, like guilt, fear, or sadness. But this isn't about himself, so he listens and tries to understand where Rocket is coming from. ]
Okay. [ Peter's voice is grave and strained. There's a flare of white-hot fury at the reminder of what these damned scientists did to his friend, and he holds the fork thigh enough that it bends a little. If most of them weren't already dead, he would kill them all again. ]
I can understand that. Wanting to cling to the only things you have left, something that's just yours. Like anger, or to an old Walkman and a nickname that everyone finds ridiculous.
[ Peter pushes his plate of food away, now feeling too queasy to consider eating more. If he thinks too hard about what he saw about the experiments performed on Rocket, the pancakes might make a comeback, and not in a good way. ]
There's no reason why you can't also be more now. You already proved that you're better than that High Evolutionary asshole, hell, you were always better. We're not just the sum of our fuck ups or bad experiences, captain</>. I can't tell you who you were, who your family might have been, I can't help with that. But you have a new family too and we're not going anywhere.
Relatedly I am deeply sorry that Rocket's a dickhead
[He pokes jerkily at the pancakes with the tips of the fork] Yeah, well, you asked where my head was at and I told you. You can't have thought you were gonna like the answer.
[There's a sharp flare of irritation in his chest at Quill having the nerve to talk about family and fucking not going anywhere like he didn't ditch them the second he'd worked through his own shit enough to go reconnect with his real family again, but it's a side note beside the deeper, hotter anger that comes with once again being told that what's working for him isn't good enough. That someone else still gets to decide if he needs to be better]
Why does it always have to be more. Is it ever fucking going to be— [His voice cracks slightly and he takes in a deep shuddering breath. The fight is draining out of him, leaving him looking nothing but exhausted in its wake; the fork is still in his hand, but he's staring at the plate like he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing with it]
Is what I already am ever going to be good enough for fucking anyone? Or is it just this, forever?
[ There are times when Rocket really reminds him of Yondu. It's hardly ever a good thing, but it does bring Peter a sense of familiarity, despite the harsh words and the cutting remarks. ]
No, but I'd rather have you being honest, even if it comes with a side dish of dickishness.
[ Peter hasn't left forever, and it's not like he plans on forgetting about his team just because he's finally found the courage to go back to Earth and find his Grandfather. It wasn't an easy decision for him to take, either. He's too aliens for earth, too humans for space. Never really fitting anywhere, either, just like the rest of the Guardians. He tries to keep in contact as much as he can while being in a different galaxy than the others, but if he knew how Rocket really feels about that, Peter probably would not be surprised that he feels abandoned. ]
That's not what I fucking meant, Rocket. [ Maybe it's because they're both still hungover, or just because Peter's shit at explaining what he means, but where Rocket is getting exhausted, he's only getting anxious. Peter doesn't want to upset him more than he already is, but he doesn't seem to be able to say the right things either. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the curls further in the process. ]
I'm not looking for a fight. You've always been enough; whatever you choose to do or be, is enough. I just don't like to see you hurting. It's that clear enough for your thick head to get?
[It's funny now, given that they'd ended up knowing each other all of a couple of days in the grand scheme of things, to think just how big a turning point actually talking to Yondu was for him. They'd both seen straight fucking through each other in an instant. It'd been a hell of a wake-up call, seeing someone further down the same path finally have to face up to it, and...fuck, as he'd watched the Ravagers light up the sky for Yondu, for the first time it'd really sunk in for him that it wasn't too late not to make the same mistakes. The others all did their part in making it possible, but man, if he had to point at one instant where he'd decided okay, fine, let's give this "being a person" thing a shot, that was it.
He gives up on the pancakes and reaches for the coffee instead, taking a steadying drink. He gives Peter a long, flat look over the mug]
You don't get to have it both ways, Quill. Either you trust me to handle this some way that works for me, or you don't.
[He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, and — summoning all the hard-won patience he learned raising a sapling with a foul mouth and some too-familiar attitude problems — grudgingly makes a peace offering]
Look. If I feel like I'm not handling it, I'll come find you, okay? Or one of the others, if it's after I head out. But no more pushing. I've done all the talking about it I'm gonna do.
[ For a moment, Peter scrunches up his nose unhappily, looking very much like he wants to argue, or like he's contemplating a particularly hard math problem. And then he deflates, recognizing the attempt at keeping things from escalating for what it is. ]
All right. [ He will put his faith in Rocket, hope that the guy has at least learned something from how far the guardians would go to try and keep him alive, and that he will truly reach out for them if he needs to. He can only hope Rocket knows he's loved, even if they don't say it out loud or Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone. ]
No more discussing feelings while hungover, eh...[ He says with a tired, small smile. He reaches for his glass of juice, the conversation left his throat feeling tight and dry. Too damn emotional for your own good, boy. Peter hates for right Yondu was.
He will eventually ask the waitress to pack the leftover pancakes; it doesn't sit well with him to waste food, but for now he's quiet. ]
"Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone" bruh you can't just do that to my feelings
[It doesn't exactly feel like a win. But hey, if neither of them are happy, that's what this compromise shit is all about, right? Or something like that. It's possible he still does not entirely have a firm handle on the concept.
He snorts something that has pretensions in the direction of being a laugh and makes a token effort to lighten the mood] If it makes you feel any better I woulda punched just about anyone else five minutes ago.
[It's a joke, just about, but there's also no denying that counting the number of people he'd tolerate that kind of well-intentioned prying from would not involve a slow thinker running out of fingers. And just about all of them have called the Milano home at one point or another. Granted, most of them would also know better than to push it, but it's not like knowing how to quit when he's ahead has ever been one of Peter's strong points.
He takes another slow, thoughtful drink of coffee and just...puts his own shit to one side and contemplates Peter for a long moment]
[ There might simply not be a perfect outcome from talking about this, but at least they talked about it. Or argued about it, but still. Peter has learned that he doesn't like to leave things unsaid. Life is too unpredictable, and he might regret not speaking up when he had the chance before it's too late.
The attempt at redirecting the conversation towards something more casual is welcome, and this time Peter gives a proper smile. It does make him feel somewhat better, even if that's a very Rocket-like joke. ]
Told ya, I am very lovable. I knew you had a soft spot for me. [ Peter winks at him, of all things, because he can be a little shit too. He knows what Rocket truly meant, and he is aware of how lucky he is that the other likes him enough to not simply storm off or attempt to blow him up with one of his grenades when Peter prods too much.
The question takes him a bit by surprise, not expecting Rocket to want to talk more about anything close to mushy feelings. ]
Ah, yeah, I'm just dandy. [ The blond puts a practiced smile on his face, leaning back against the booth's seat in such a casual way that almost looks 100% genuine.
Truth be told, he is doing better than he was, mainly because he is no longer trying to drink himself to death. So that's progress. The loss of Gamora has turned into a persistent, dull ache in his chest that Peter knows will never go away but that he's learned to live with.
The problem is that, he has no idea what to do with his life anymore. What he's good for. He feels lonely, that's all. ]
It's a little weird to be around so many humans, yet have no idea what happened here for the last 4 decades. [ Peter admits because, after what he put Rocket through, his friend deserves some of the truth. ] My grandfather is also quite old, even for my people's standards, so we're trying to make the best of the time we have left together.
[ He's been mentally preparing himself for yet another loss in the future, so maybe this time he can handle it without losing his mind. ]
[Far from comfortable as it is to stay in this kind of territory, over the years he's learned that even if he'd rather take his feelings to his fucking grave, some of the others unaccountably seem to be glad of the opportunity to talk it out. Still a baffling concept. But hey, it keeps life interesting, or something like that.
The answer he gets doesn't come from the angle he was expecting; it's not what he'd meant, exactly, but he's not having that fucking conversation twice if he can help it so he's not going to look a gift change of subject in the mouth. He doesn't buy that I'm just dandy for a fucking second, of course, but he's not quite enough of a hypocrite to push it. If Peter wants to pretend everything's fine, that's his business]
Yeah, I bet [The vague impression he'd received from Peter's stories about Terra was a hell of a lot different from what he saw when he finally washed up there. It's funny now, with a bit more context, to look back and realize how much of it had been just...a kid's confused interpretation of the way things worked. An identity cobbled together from songs and half-remembered stories.
After calling it a home port for most of the Blip, Rocket's pretty comfortable with the way things work here; as it turns out, people are just people pretty much everywhere. He can pass for human if he's careful to keep the cybernetics covered and no-one looks too closely at any of the rest. The place is still isolated enough that most people are going to assume slightly weird fellow terran and move on with their lives before jumping to alien. He's spent enough time here now that he can generally bluff his way through anything that still catches him off guard.
He wonders, if you actually counted it up, if he's spent more time here over the last ten years than Quill has. That's a weird thought]
Yeah, it's... [He gives a shrug and a wry half-smile] ...time, huh? That shit gets away from you. [Fuck knows he never expected to live this long]
So...is this you, then? For the foreseeable? [He's not not fishing to find out if and when he's going to have some backup back on Knowhere again, but at the same time...hanging around waiting to see when someone kicks it sounds pretty fucking depressing]
[ Silly terrans and their sillier feelings—they really liked to engage in them. Peter briefly wonders if Rocket knows about telenovelas, and how much physiological damage it would cause making him watch an episode or two or the latest trendy one. It could be funny.
And yes, his answer has been a transparent attempt at changing the subject and not bothering Rocket anymore, and Peter's glad he took the offered metaphorical olive branch. ]
Yeah. On the plus side, I have so many more cool songs. I've been making new playlists; I have a few for you that I plan on sending through the comms once they're finished. Just so you all don't forget about my impeccable taste in music.
[ And because he knows Rocket likes it, as well as Nebula and Drax, despite claiming the opposite. And an inherent taste for music, and some of Rocket's mannerisms, despite his many (many) oddities —they all had those, anyway— have made Peter question more than once if Rocket was actually also a human. No doubt bringing it up would piss him off, and he doesn't remember his past, but Peter couldn't stop wondering about it after seeing the planet the High Evolutionary designed. It looked way too much like the earth he remembered in his childhood, the man must have visited the planet at some point. It was called Counter-Earth, for fuck's sake. But that's a thought for another time. ]
It does. I'm not even sure how to even count my age anymore since I was gone those five years. My birth certificate says that I am 46 years old, but physically, I'm 41. Schrödinger's age.
[ It's not something he likes to bring up much, the years during the blip, because it's painful for everyone. He leans in to put his elbow on the table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, and looks closer at Rocket.
It's been great to reconnect with his grandfather; he was an idiot for not doing it sooner, yet in the past there never seemed to be a right moment for it. Part of Peter feels guilty, too, that he has been causing pain to his grandfather for decades due to his issues and fear of rejection. So there's a lot to process still for both of them. However, he can read between the lines about what Rocket is hinting at.; ]
You're not getting rid of me for long. Sorry to ruin your hopes and dreams, buddy.
[ It's what Peter goes for as an answer, again trying to keep things playful but making it clear he's not going to stay on Earth forever. He loves Jason, he's not looking forward to their final day together, but he doesn't belong here. Earth is not a home to him. ]
And you can call me if anything happens, I have the backup ship if I need to leave the planet. Or...if you just miss me so much and you need to see my pretty face in person again.
[He gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes, but there's no hiding the hint of a suppressed smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. He has developed a certain affection for Peter's constant loop of music over the years; he thinks they all have, really. It's just...something else that means home now, like a streak and orange and blue overhead, or the sounds of good-natured bickering echoing down the hallways]
I'm here, ain't I? [This is as close as he's going to come to admitting that he has missed Peter this last while, so savor it. Most of the time he doesn't think too hard about it; they'd all gotten used to having a bit more personal space after settling on Knowhere, not constantly tripping over each other the way they had been when they were all living on the ship. They'd got to a point where it wasn't that weird to go a day or two without seeing someone. But every so often he'll turn around to point something out or make some smartass comment, and— just for a second he'll get jerked up short again by Peter not being there. It always leaves him tense and restless afterwards. Too much like those empty days after the Snap.
And sure, the others are still there if he needs to remind himself it's not like that. He can go let Groot kick his ass at videogames, or get a little bit drunk and find a stupid barfight with Drax, or pester Nebs into letting him design some new upgrades for her. But none of it's quite the same as getting to turn round and see Peter right there, like he's supposed to be]
Anyway [He pushes the plate away and gives Peter an expectant grin] I remember hearin' a lot of big talk about showin' me the sights...
[ Peter has to bite his lower lips to not outright laugh at Rocket's exasperated antics. This time, when his shoulders relax, it's actually for real, and he feels a little lighter now that they're moving on from the heavier topics.
He's always had a strong connection to music because it reminded him of his mother, of family, and he's glad that such a thing had spread to the Guardians and the people he cares about. They need more of that kind of simple joy in their lives. And besides, the music covers for the lack of noise when Peter can't stand the silence. He grew used to the team's presence and occasional yelling, and it feels strange to not have those comforting sounds anymore. ]
Yes, yes you are. Here to fix my grenades and to discover the wonders of pancakes with bacon, and speaking about that... [ Peter makes another gesture to the friendly waiter, so she can come over, pack their extra food, and they can get a move on. As promised, he will take care of the bill and also leave her a good tip. ]
Prepare to be amazed, dude. [ Peter says with a grin that seems to promise the exact opposite. There's not actually a ton of sightseeing to do in a town like this one, if any. But they will be together, and there's a record store that has some interesting stuff that Peter thinks Rocket might actually like, and then they can go buy some actual groceries so they can survive on more than pancakes these next few days. ]
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[ It's surprisingly easy to fall into the familiar rhythm of sharing their space, even though Peter's small apartment is nowhere close to the size of their ship or the houses they had in Knowhere. Rocket has only been staying here a few days, but Peter feels already more at ease and calm than in the months when the only people he talked to were Jason and his wife, as well as the occasional clerk or waitress, as he tried to adapt to living on his home planet again.
He doesn't have to watch what he says so closely and worry that people would find it weird or not understand what he's talking about when he mentions things like wormhole traveling, zarg nuts, or credits.
Living together also means that he has all the time in the world to pester Rocket, which is what he is doing on Friday night once the sun sets. ]
Come oooon, it will be fun. The place isn't even that far from here, we only have to walk ten minutes to reach the karaoke Bar. I'll pay for the drinks and the snacks.
[If someone had asked him what he would have expected Peter's place back on Terra to look like, he supposes he would have pictured...well, something not all that different from the Milano, probably. Chaotic, cluttered with knicknacks and sentimental keepsakes. Now he's here, it looks a lot less lived-in than he would have expected. Which makes sense, probably. It's not been all that long, really, and intellectually he knows that most of Peter's stuff still is back on the Milano. But still, there's something kind of weird about seeing Peter living somewhere that hasn't been molded to the shape of his life over decades.
It's a small enough place that he's been crashing on the sofa while he's been here. Not that he's complaining; it doesn't even make the top hundred worst places he's slept. As things that aren't beds go it's pretty comfy. And it's not like he needs that much space anyway: he's not a big guy, and discounting the collection of guns and high explosives he'd mostly left back on Knowhere, the sum total of everything he owns still comes to one not particularly large bag. The subset of clothes he has that won't draw attention on Terra is even smaller.
Pretty much from the moment he'd learned what karaoke was, it had been clear to him that Peter was going to insist they go out and give it a shot at some point. He's honestly surprised — and kind of a little impressed at his teammate's restraint — that it took this long]
Hey, you had me at "bar" [He shrugs and shoots Peter a grin] But hey, you wanna keep tryin' to buy my love, knock yourself out.
[ Peter's barebones apartment is further proof that he still has a hard time adjusting to thinking of this planet as a home. His grandfather's house is more comforting; it also has a lot more pictures of his mom and his uncle, who also passed away. At the same time, it reminds him of good times long gone, and seeing the pictures gives him a bittersweet feeling.
Another factor is that Peter's credits can hardly be used on Earth because they are a whole different currency only accepted across the galaxy. The most expensive thing Peter owns right now is the Bluetooth speaker, and that was a present from Jason's wife. But at least the couch is comfy, and it's also covered in a couple of blankets and quilts because Peter knows Rocket likes to steal borrows his stuff. He expects at least one of them to go missing by the time Rocket returns to Knowhere. ]
Great! I'll lead with that the next time. [ Peter's whole face lights up, and an easy smile spreads across his lips. ]If the way to win your love is through your stomach, I can do that too. Let's get moving then; there's a Bruce Springsteen song with your name on it.
[ Time to practically drag Rocket across town until they find the bar, chatting about music choices all the way. ]
[It still kind of wrong-foots him sometimes, just how fucking easy it is to make Peter smile like that. Any talent Rocket's ever had for reading people, for figuring out what makes them tick, has always been used offensively. It's always been about figuring out if someone's a threat, getting them to leave him the fuck alone; or if it comes to a fight, pissing them off enough that they get sloppy. Using those powers for good...suffice to say it's a skill that's, at best, rusty.
The air is cool as they make their way through the nighttime streets, faintly damp and whispering with a breeze that's indefinably different from the air circulation on a ship or station. Above them, the stars are distant, dimmed by atmosphere and the haze of light pollution. From here you can almost see why most species started off believing the sky was a flat dome with points of light painted onto it, just a little further beyond the clouds.
The bar itself is already lively by the time they get there, light and noise and warmth spilling out into the street as the door opens. It's busy enough for a good atmosphere without being too crowded. Up on the poky little stage, there's a guy wailing soulfully into a microphone. Rocket considers him dubiously. He doesn't recognize the song, but he's reasonably sure it's not supposed to sound like that]
At least the bar's set good and low I guess [He shrugs and jerks his head towards the bartop] C'mon, if we're gonna have to sit and listen to this, I need a drink.
[ Some flirting, jokes, and an easy smile had served Peter well over the years. It was his way to protect himself in a galaxy full of horrors. Both because he honestly wanted to have a good time, even if it hardly ever happened, and because if people thought you were an airhead, they underestimated you. That had worked in Peter's favor many times in the past. If he could defuse a tense situation without using violence, he would give all the other options a try before he grabbed his blasters.
And then Thanos happened. Xandar was almost destroyed. Gamora died. A lot of people suffered. The galaxy changed forever, and even after they set it right again, some things were still broken. He was broken. Peter had been miserable for a long time, and their conflict with the High Evolutionary had brought his worst fears to the surface. If he had lost Rocket back then, or any of his friends, he would have lost it forever.
Now that that is over and that he has a much better understanding and acceptance of his place in the universe, Peter is trying to focus on the good things he still has in life. And Rocket, alive and humoring him despite Peter driving him up the wall on occasion, is one of the really few good things he still has.
It's why it's easy to smile and joke around him, sometimes to pull his leg, others simply because Peter is in one of the rare moods where he's genuinely happy, and his smile isn't a mask. That happens more often than not around Rocket.
The fresh air is something he welcomes, especially after living in enclosed ships for so long. The guardians had to stop by planets with actual sunlight every now and then to make sure Groot and Peter could stay in good health, but they never stayed grounded for long. Peter's even gotten a bit more tanned since he started living here and keeps a more stable sleep schedule, so he's feeling more energetic these days. He misses the stars; nothing you can see on Earth compares to the beauty of deep space, but you can't have everything.
Once at the bar, greeted by the lively atmosphere, Peter has to suppress a laugh at the face Rocket is making at the questionable singer. He pats him on the shoulder. ]
The bar is a tripping hazard in hell, and the people here aren't drunk yet, so that's saying something. We can do so much better than that. [ He doesn't have to be told twice, though, moving to take a seat and gesturing to the barman to get their drinks, but instead of asking for a cocktail directly, he turns to grin at Rocket. ]
We should ask for some vodka shots first to warm up. In Terra, we have a lot of drinking games involving those too. Whatcha say?
[His repertoire of terran music isn't all that extensive, but thanks to Peter and his constant stream of it, it's not nothing either. He's still not particularly convinced karaoke's going to end up being his thing, but he doesn't see how anyone with functioning ears could possibly do worse than that.
They make their way across the bar, weaving around knots of people standing around chatting and drinking. Out of habit he does an absent sweep of the room, making a note of exits and anyone who seems like they might be a threat. The latter doesn't turn up much. In his time on Terra he's learned that the average drinking establishment is fairly tame compared to what he's used to; you've gotta go pretty downmarket to even find a realistic chance of getting into a worthwhile barfight, never mind anything with a body count.
Probably things being that tame would get boring eventually. But for now it's still a novelty, and it's kind of relaxing not having to be too on guard.
He slides onto the barstool next to Peter and answers that grin with one of his own] You know I'm down. What you got in mind?
[ Everything would be tame compared to the other bars of dubious reputation they've visited all over the galaxy, but like Rocket, Peter has welcomed the change when he first visited it. Not having to worry about accidentally getting gutted, robbed, or being collateral damage to someone else's fight is a relief.
The nosiest of the lot right now is a small group of seven women whooping with laughter and chatting loudly on a table close to the stage, their hands full of colorful cocktails. They're all dressed similarly, in black clothes, and bring colorful boas and other silly accessories, except one that's wearing a white dress and crown. So, a bachelorette party, for sure.
Peter gives them an amused, fond look as he watches one of them drag the future bride-to-be on stage for a duet to the song Hips Don't Lie by Shakira before his attention goes back to Rocket. It's nice to see his friend grinning in a way that doesn't mean trouble, but also that doesn't not mean trouble either. A bit of both, as they like it. ]
Something silly and fun, relaxing. Hopefully, that will get us pleasantly buzzed. [ Nothing like the conversation they had over breakfast the other day, he means. Tonight's a night to have a good time. When the barman shows up to take their order, Peter simply asks for a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. ]
Most of the drinking games I know need more than two people to be played, alas, but there's the forever classic 'never have I ever'. With the amount of weird shit we have both done, that one could be something.
Basically, you say something you've never done in the past, like 'I've never been arrested', and if the other person has done it, they drink. You can also say something you know you've done, like the arrest statement, in which case we both drink.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Peter is actually smirking because humans aren't even the weirdest species this planet has ever produced. ]
You should look up Angler Fish's reproductive habits, and then you can come and tell me what you think about that. [ It will be very enlightening for Rocket, he's sure. Half of his pancakes now gone, Peter tilts his head and considers that assumption. ]
I can see where the mistake comes from. But if that were the case, I'd have hooked up with 90% of the Galaxy, including Nebula.
[ It's Peter's turn to scrunch up his nose because... no. Talk about wrong and gross. He loves her in an entirely different way, thank you very much.
Rocket was right that throwing feelings around when they're hungover is not the greatest idea. Not to say that it wouldn't do them good to talk more openly about certain issues, but those still hurt too much, no matter how much time has passed.
He simply nods at the subdued 'yeah' rather than responding further, his gaze going distant as he chews, his mind lost on past memories until Rocket speaks again. ]
I've only told the full story to my Gramps, while his new wife knows a less detailed explanation, I didn't want to freak her out. Jason knows how and why I disappeared as a kid, but not the details about how things were with the Ravagers while I grew up with them. He also knows about you guys, how we saved the Galaxy a few times, and that Ego is no more. He actually remembered that bastard.
[ Basically, Peter gave him a sanitized and PG version of their adventures because his grandfather didn't need more stress in his life. No mention of the Klyn prison, the High Evolutionary, and the like. ]
He asked me if I was ever planning to give him grandkids, and I told him that he's already got one and that he's a tree. My grandfather laughed about it, so I'm pretty sure he's cool with the whole alien thing.
[ Peter smiles at Rocket after that. He's lucky that his family is that accepting after how much Earth has suffered because of some alien mess or another, it came as a huge relief. ]
How are things going in Knowhere? I bet Groot's even taller now, he looked bigger the last time we had a video call.
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[He's starting to look slightly more at home in the land of the living as the carbs and coffee do their job, steadily demolishing the stack in front of him with the diligence of someone who's learned some hard lessons in their time about what happens when food isn't so readily available. He snorts and shakes his head] Yeah, Nebs would skin you just for having that thought out loud [Figuratively, anyway. She's not doing so bad herself on the whole 'being a person' front lately.
He finishes clearing his plate as he absently nods along with the summary of what Peter's told his family. Sounds like it's hit the highlights for sure, and maybe glossed over some of the lows they really don't need to be going over again. He knows he's vey firmly at one particular extreme of the talk about your feelings vs repress it forever scale, but man, there's some shit where cracking it open again's never going to do anyone any good.
It's really something to behold, the way Rocket's entire demeanour just softens slightly as they come around to the topic of Groot] Yeah, damn. Guess I at least had a good couple years there where he was still shorter than me. Dunno what he'll top out at. Or...if he will, really. He might just keep going.
[He shrugs and takes a swig of coffee] Things are going pretty good. We've about got everything patched up from all that shit that went down, and the new recruits are shaping up. Mostly we're looking at getting our hands on some more ships.
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Smiling still in place, Peter waves at the waitress when she walks past close to them and asks for another round of pancakes, some more juice, and extra coffee. It's helping both of them to feel more like themselves, so it's worth overindulging for once. She nods and returns the smile, then goes to fetch the new order. ]
She would, most likely. But I like to think she might feel a little bit bad afterward too. I've grown on her over the years, I am very lovable.
[ Joking aside, Peter knows Nebual has changed a lot from the first time they met and they had gotten closer. One of the reasons is a kind of shared pain over losing Gamora, but still. Nebula could have left and didn't, could have gone with the other Gamora but stayed with the Guardians instead. They're family.
He's not at all surprised to see the other man relax and cheerful at the mention of Groot. He knows Rocket is a softie on the inside. Very very deep inside, but it's there. It makes Peter smile too. ]
Ey, that means we've been taking good care of him and that he's healthy. [ The original Groot was nowhere that wide, even if he was also really tall. Peter sees the change in the new Groot as a positive thing. ] I miss his little self sometimes, he was really cute and easy to carry on a shoulder. A troublemaker, though. He got that from you.
[ Because of course, Peter had always been a model citizen and father figure, not at all doing crazy and questionable shit on the regular. ]
If the only concern is getting new ships, then that's fantastic news. It's good to hear that things and people are doing well. We all needed a break after...you know. After. [ He's trying to be subtle, but it's not as if that ever worked for them. They're experts at not talking about the things they don't talk about. Peter gives up on the pretense very quickly. ] You doing okay? And I am asking for real, don't give me a bullshit answer now that there's no one else around.
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Hell yeah he did [His grin gets wider and smugger at the acknowledgement that he's responsible for Groot's penchant for trouble. But man, it is nice to think that they did a decent job looking after the little guy after Xandar. They wouldn't exactly have been anyone's first choice to raise a kid, even one that didn't ask for much more than water and light and occasionally some fresh soil, so it's good to see that at least they don't seem to have fucked him up too bad.
A tired sigh falls from his lips as the conversation wanders round to what it was probably always going to. He jabs a little more emphatically at his pancakes than necessary, eyes on his plate, before putting the fork down entirely and scrubbing his hands over his face]
I don't know what you want me to say, man. I didn't exactly love having all the worst shit in my life cracked open for everyone to see.
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He nudges Rocket's foot again after hearing that snort. ]
I don't think you're supposed to be that proud of his bad habits. [ But it also comes as no surprise that he is. Considering their shitty backgrounds, they all did a fantastic job at raising a kid. Peter thinks they earned the right to boast about it, even if he complains to Rocket.
He feels a bit bad for bringing up exactly what his friend doesn't want to hear, but it feels like it's a conversation long overdue, and this is as good a time as ever. ]
That I can understand, It's never pleasant. [ Seeing Rocket hooked up to medical equipment and flatlining on the table right in front of his eyes did no favors to Peter's own traumas. Even now that is over, he can't stop himself from thinking about the What If every other day. ]
Since the cat is out of the bag already, maybe addressing it could help. As a way to exorcise the demons and the like. It's what people used to tell me. [ He keeps his voice low, it doesn't feel right to speak of these sorts of things in his usual tone. ] I thought...I thought you were going to die on us back then. I don't know what I would have done if that had happened.
[ Probably fall further into depression and alcoholism. Peter doesn't have the most stellar coping mechanism when people he cares about die. It had happened a lot of times already. ]
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[There's a lot that comes churning through his head when he thinks too hard about what happened. There's anger, of course, and grief, and there's fucking shame at the fact that when hs past came knocking to fuck everything up, he couldn't even stand up and fight back himself. There's something uneasy and confusing he doesn't even know how to classify at seeing how far everyone else was willing to go just for him. There's so much more he hasn't even had a chance to sort through.
But the thought of talking about it sits in the pit of his stomach like a lead brick. The only thing worse than the fact that it happened is the fact that everyone else knows about it. The way he feels about this the only thing he's got left no-one's had a chance to pry open. The last thing he wants to is to crack it all open again and have someone see.
That defensive hunch is back in his body language as he folds his arms in front of him and draws his shoulders in, eyes fixed on the table]
I would rather have died clean than ever gone back there.
These two disasters are making me emotional
The Ravagers in general and Yondu in particular weren't exactly the type of people you talked with about these things, either. You had to tough it up and move on. And Peter loved the guy, he was the closest thing to a real father he ever had, but there also had been a lot of conflict between them because they were both incapable of finding the right outlets to express their emotions. Yondu often accused Peter of being too emotional for his own good, and in return, Peter thought of him as a heartless bastard. Then their fights would escalate into proper violence, and nothing really got resolved.
It wasn't until he spent more time with the Guardians that Peter had finally, painfully slow at times too, learned better ways to handle his past traumas. He likes to think they all did, that their little group had become enough of a safety net that the others would feel comfortable enough to share their worries or fears if they needed to, but Rocket always had a harder time than others, including Nebula. ]
Don't you ever feel like you're choking on your own emotions?
[ Because that's how Peter had felt in the past. Still does, sometimes. All the rage and frustration, the guilt, shame, and sorrow of past mistakes, pilling up in his chest with no way to go. He doesn't know how to put it in words properly, not in a way Rocket wouldn't find ridiculous or mock. But Peter tries, because he loves the guy, and they all left these sorts of issues unchecked for too long. ]
They're like... a balloon filling up with air in your chest, not leaving room for anything else, pressure building up. [ Peter gestures vaguely towards his torso with the hand still holding the empty fork, eyes looking everywhere but Rocket at the moment. ] And if you do nothing, it's going to explode eventually, catastrophically so, and ruin you and anyone near. Talking helps with that. If you can vent out your emotions, the balloon starts to deflate.
[ Okay, the metaphor got away from him a bit, but the main idea is there. He just wishes he could express it better. Peter sighs at the view of Rocket hunched in on himself, his own shoulders slumping. ]
I know. And talking won't change what happened, but it can make the memories less heavy. I know you don't owe me shit, you don't need to talk to me specifically. You also don't need to carry all that alone, is what I'm saying.
They're so bad at being people. I love it.
I always thought of it more like a dam. Can't drive the turbines 'til you've built some pressure up behind 'em.
[Everyone's got something that drives them. For him...well, part of it's curiosity, and part of it's definitely spite, but the blazing sun everything else orbits around has always, always been anger. Anger about what happened to him and the others, about being the only one who got out, about having to figure out how to keep on living after all of it when the rest of the universe didn't give a shit. Anger is what's kept him moving forward all this time when it would have been so much easier just to curl up somewhere and give in to the inevitable. He's not going to pretend to be sorry about that]
Look, they didn't— [He grimaces faintly, looking like he's tasted something unpleasant, and huffs a short, irritable sigh] I'm gonna say this once, okay?
I didn't get to keep anything. They cut out anythin' they thought we'd look better without, fuckin'...shot us full of muscle relaxants so we couldn't struggle, kept us so doped up we didn't even get to be angry or scared. I'm...I don't know how old I am, man. I don't know if I ever had a family, or a name. Whatever they did to my head messed it up so bad that the first thing I fucking remember is that surgical table.
[He picks up the fork again, eyes down and voice dropping to a furious mutter]
So yeah, sure, I'm angry and I'm fucked up over it. And that's mine. I had to fight to get to even have that much, and no-one gets to take it away again.
True, roflmao. But they are trying...a little
Dams get fucked up and break too, you know.
[ Living out of spite is something Peter could relate to; it's more sustainable than living out of anger, but both are exhausting options. He also knows that more often than not his own anger is a mask to hide a different emotion, like guilt, fear, or sadness. But this isn't about himself, so he listens and tries to understand where Rocket is coming from. ]
Okay. [ Peter's voice is grave and strained. There's a flare of white-hot fury at the reminder of what these damned scientists did to his friend, and he holds the fork thigh enough that it bends a little. If most of them weren't already dead, he would kill them all again. ]
I can understand that. Wanting to cling to the only things you have left, something that's just yours. Like anger, or to an old Walkman and a nickname that everyone finds ridiculous.
[ Peter pushes his plate of food away, now feeling too queasy to consider eating more. If he thinks too hard about what he saw about the experiments performed on Rocket, the pancakes might make a comeback, and not in a good way. ]
There's no reason why you can't also be more now. You already proved that you're better than that High Evolutionary asshole, hell, you were always better. We're not just the sum of our fuck ups or bad experiences, captain</>. I can't tell you who you were, who your family might have been, I can't help with that. But you have a new family too and we're not going anywhere.
Relatedly I am deeply sorry that Rocket's a dickhead
[There's a sharp flare of irritation in his chest at Quill having the nerve to talk about family and fucking not going anywhere like he didn't ditch them the second he'd worked through his own shit enough to go reconnect with his real family again, but it's a side note beside the deeper, hotter anger that comes with once again being told that what's working for him isn't good enough. That someone else still gets to decide if he needs to be better]
Why does it always have to be more. Is it ever fucking going to be— [His voice cracks slightly and he takes in a deep shuddering breath. The fight is draining out of him, leaving him looking nothing but exhausted in its wake; the fork is still in his hand, but he's staring at the plate like he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing with it]
Is what I already am ever going to be good enough for fucking anyone? Or is it just this, forever?
It's all cool. Peter expects nothing else
No, but I'd rather have you being honest, even if it comes with a side dish of dickishness.
[ Peter hasn't left forever, and it's not like he plans on forgetting about his team just because he's finally found the courage to go back to Earth and find his Grandfather. It wasn't an easy decision for him to take, either. He's too aliens for earth, too humans for space. Never really fitting anywhere, either, just like the rest of the Guardians. He tries to keep in contact as much as he can while being in a different galaxy than the others, but if he knew how Rocket really feels about that, Peter probably would not be surprised that he feels abandoned. ]
That's not what I fucking meant, Rocket. [ Maybe it's because they're both still hungover, or just because Peter's shit at explaining what he means, but where Rocket is getting exhausted, he's only getting anxious. Peter doesn't want to upset him more than he already is, but he doesn't seem to be able to say the right things either. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the curls further in the process. ]
I'm not looking for a fight. You've always been enough; whatever you choose to do or be, is enough. I just don't like to see you hurting. It's that clear enough for your thick head to get?
Peter, baby, you can do better
He gives up on the pancakes and reaches for the coffee instead, taking a steadying drink. He gives Peter a long, flat look over the mug]
You don't get to have it both ways, Quill. Either you trust me to handle this some way that works for me, or you don't.
[He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, and — summoning all the hard-won patience he learned raising a sapling with a foul mouth and some too-familiar attitude problems — grudgingly makes a peace offering]
Look. If I feel like I'm not handling it, I'll come find you, okay? Or one of the others, if it's after I head out. But no more pushing. I've done all the talking about it I'm gonna do.
Can he, though.....?
All right. [ He will put his faith in Rocket, hope that the guy has at least learned something from how far the guardians would go to try and keep him alive, and that he will truly reach out for them if he needs to. He can only hope Rocket knows he's loved, even if they don't say it out loud or Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone. ]
No more discussing feelings while hungover, eh...[ He says with a tired, small smile. He reaches for his glass of juice, the conversation left his throat feeling tight and dry. Too damn emotional for your own good, boy. Peter hates for right Yondu was.
He will eventually ask the waitress to pack the leftover pancakes; it doesn't sit well with him to waste food, but for now he's quiet. ]
"Peter's love might not be worth anything to anyone" bruh you can't just do that to my feelings
He snorts something that has pretensions in the direction of being a laugh and makes a token effort to lighten the mood] If it makes you feel any better I woulda punched just about anyone else five minutes ago.
[It's a joke, just about, but there's also no denying that counting the number of people he'd tolerate that kind of well-intentioned prying from would not involve a slow thinker running out of fingers. And just about all of them have called the Milano home at one point or another. Granted, most of them would also know better than to push it, but it's not like knowing how to quit when he's ahead has ever been one of Peter's strong points.
He takes another slow, thoughtful drink of coffee and just...puts his own shit to one side and contemplates Peter for a long moment]
...are you handlin' it?
/Sorry, sorry...(not really)
The attempt at redirecting the conversation towards something more casual is welcome, and this time Peter gives a proper smile. It does make him feel somewhat better, even if that's a very Rocket-like joke. ]
Told ya, I am very lovable. I knew you had a soft spot for me. [ Peter winks at him, of all things, because he can be a little shit too. He knows what Rocket truly meant, and he is aware of how lucky he is that the other likes him enough to not simply storm off or attempt to blow him up with one of his grenades when Peter prods too much.
The question takes him a bit by surprise, not expecting Rocket to want to talk more about anything close to mushy feelings. ]
Ah, yeah, I'm just dandy. [ The blond puts a practiced smile on his face, leaning back against the booth's seat in such a casual way that almost looks 100% genuine.
Truth be told, he is doing better than he was, mainly because he is no longer trying to drink himself to death. So that's progress. The loss of Gamora has turned into a persistent, dull ache in his chest that Peter knows will never go away but that he's learned to live with.
The problem is that, he has no idea what to do with his life anymore. What he's good for. He feels lonely, that's all. ]
It's a little weird to be around so many humans, yet have no idea what happened here for the last 4 decades. [ Peter admits because, after what he put Rocket through, his friend deserves some of the truth. ] My grandfather is also quite old, even for my people's standards, so we're trying to make the best of the time we have left together.
[ He's been mentally preparing himself for yet another loss in the future, so maybe this time he can handle it without losing his mind. ]
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The answer he gets doesn't come from the angle he was expecting; it's not what he'd meant, exactly, but he's not having that fucking conversation twice if he can help it so he's not going to look a gift change of subject in the mouth. He doesn't buy that I'm just dandy for a fucking second, of course, but he's not quite enough of a hypocrite to push it. If Peter wants to pretend everything's fine, that's his business]
Yeah, I bet [The vague impression he'd received from Peter's stories about Terra was a hell of a lot different from what he saw when he finally washed up there. It's funny now, with a bit more context, to look back and realize how much of it had been just...a kid's confused interpretation of the way things worked. An identity cobbled together from songs and half-remembered stories.
After calling it a home port for most of the Blip, Rocket's pretty comfortable with the way things work here; as it turns out, people are just people pretty much everywhere. He can pass for human if he's careful to keep the cybernetics covered and no-one looks too closely at any of the rest. The place is still isolated enough that most people are going to assume slightly weird fellow terran and move on with their lives before jumping to alien. He's spent enough time here now that he can generally bluff his way through anything that still catches him off guard.
He wonders, if you actually counted it up, if he's spent more time here over the last ten years than Quill has. That's a weird thought]
Yeah, it's... [He gives a shrug and a wry half-smile] ...time, huh? That shit gets away from you. [Fuck knows he never expected to live this long]
So...is this you, then? For the foreseeable? [He's not not fishing to find out if and when he's going to have some backup back on Knowhere again, but at the same time...hanging around waiting to see when someone kicks it sounds pretty fucking depressing]
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And yes, his answer has been a transparent attempt at changing the subject and not bothering Rocket anymore, and Peter's glad he took the offered metaphorical olive branch. ]
Yeah. On the plus side, I have so many more cool songs. I've been making new playlists; I have a few for you that I plan on sending through the comms once they're finished. Just so you all don't forget about my impeccable taste in music.
[ And because he knows Rocket likes it, as well as Nebula and Drax, despite claiming the opposite. And an inherent taste for music, and some of Rocket's mannerisms, despite his many (many) oddities —they all had those, anyway— have made Peter question more than once if Rocket was actually also a human. No doubt bringing it up would piss him off, and he doesn't remember his past, but Peter couldn't stop wondering about it after seeing the planet the High Evolutionary designed. It looked way too much like the earth he remembered in his childhood, the man must have visited the planet at some point. It was called Counter-Earth, for fuck's sake. But that's a thought for another time. ]
It does. I'm not even sure how to even count my age anymore since I was gone those five years. My birth certificate says that I am 46 years old, but physically, I'm 41. Schrödinger's age.
[ It's not something he likes to bring up much, the years during the blip, because it's painful for everyone. He leans in to put his elbow on the table, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, and looks closer at Rocket.
It's been great to reconnect with his grandfather; he was an idiot for not doing it sooner, yet in the past there never seemed to be a right moment for it. Part of Peter feels guilty, too, that he has been causing pain to his grandfather for decades due to his issues and fear of rejection. So there's a lot to process still for both of them. However, he can read between the lines about what Rocket is hinting at.; ]
You're not getting rid of me for long. Sorry to ruin your hopes and dreams, buddy.
[ It's what Peter goes for as an answer, again trying to keep things playful but making it clear he's not going to stay on Earth forever. He loves Jason, he's not looking forward to their final day together, but he doesn't belong here. Earth is not a home to him. ]
And you can call me if anything happens, I have the backup ship if I need to leave the planet. Or...if you just miss me so much and you need to see my pretty face in person again.
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I'm here, ain't I? [This is as close as he's going to come to admitting that he has missed Peter this last while, so savor it. Most of the time he doesn't think too hard about it; they'd all gotten used to having a bit more personal space after settling on Knowhere, not constantly tripping over each other the way they had been when they were all living on the ship. They'd got to a point where it wasn't that weird to go a day or two without seeing someone. But every so often he'll turn around to point something out or make some smartass comment, and— just for a second he'll get jerked up short again by Peter not being there. It always leaves him tense and restless afterwards. Too much like those empty days after the Snap.
And sure, the others are still there if he needs to remind himself it's not like that. He can go let Groot kick his ass at videogames, or get a little bit drunk and find a stupid barfight with Drax, or pester Nebs into letting him design some new upgrades for her. But none of it's quite the same as getting to turn round and see Peter right there, like he's supposed to be]
Anyway [He pushes the plate away and gives Peter an expectant grin] I remember hearin' a lot of big talk about showin' me the sights...
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He's always had a strong connection to music because it reminded him of his mother, of family, and he's glad that such a thing had spread to the Guardians and the people he cares about. They need more of that kind of simple joy in their lives. And besides, the music covers for the lack of noise when Peter can't stand the silence. He grew used to the team's presence and occasional yelling, and it feels strange to not have those comforting sounds anymore. ]
Yes, yes you are. Here to fix my grenades and to discover the wonders of pancakes with bacon, and speaking about that... [ Peter makes another gesture to the friendly waiter, so she can come over, pack their extra food, and they can get a move on. As promised, he will take care of the bill and also leave her a good tip. ]
Prepare to be amazed, dude. [ Peter says with a grin that seems to promise the exact opposite. There's not actually a ton of sightseeing to do in a town like this one, if any. But they will be together, and there's a record store that has some interesting stuff that Peter thinks Rocket might actually like, and then they can go buy some actual groceries so they can survive on more than pancakes these next few days. ]
[ It's surprisingly easy to fall into the familiar rhythm of sharing their space, even though Peter's small apartment is nowhere close to the size of their ship or the houses they had in Knowhere. Rocket has only been staying here a few days, but Peter feels already more at ease and calm than in the months when the only people he talked to were Jason and his wife, as well as the occasional clerk or waitress, as he tried to adapt to living on his home planet again.
He doesn't have to watch what he says so closely and worry that people would find it weird or not understand what he's talking about when he mentions things like wormhole traveling, zarg nuts, or credits.
Living together also means that he has all the time in the world to pester Rocket, which is what he is doing on Friday night once the sun sets. ]
Come oooon, it will be fun. The place isn't even that far from here, we only have to walk ten minutes to reach the karaoke Bar. I'll pay for the drinks and the snacks.
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It's a small enough place that he's been crashing on the sofa while he's been here. Not that he's complaining; it doesn't even make the top hundred worst places he's slept. As things that aren't beds go it's pretty comfy. And it's not like he needs that much space anyway: he's not a big guy, and discounting the collection of guns and high explosives he'd mostly left back on Knowhere, the sum total of everything he owns still comes to one not particularly large bag. The subset of clothes he has that won't draw attention on Terra is even smaller.
Pretty much from the moment he'd learned what karaoke was, it had been clear to him that Peter was going to insist they go out and give it a shot at some point. He's honestly surprised — and kind of a little impressed at his teammate's restraint — that it took this long]
Hey, you had me at "bar" [He shrugs and shoots Peter a grin] But hey, you wanna keep tryin' to buy my love, knock yourself out.
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Another factor is that Peter's credits can hardly be used on Earth because they are a whole different currency only accepted across the galaxy. The most expensive thing Peter owns right now is the Bluetooth speaker, and that was a present from Jason's wife. But at least the couch is comfy, and it's also covered in a couple of blankets and quilts because Peter knows Rocket likes to
stealborrows his stuff. He expects at least one of them to go missing by the time Rocket returns to Knowhere. ]Great! I'll lead with that the next time. [ Peter's whole face lights up, and an easy smile spreads across his lips. ]If the way to win your love is through your stomach, I can do that too. Let's get moving then; there's a Bruce Springsteen song with your name on it.
[ Time to practically drag Rocket across town until they find the bar, chatting about music choices all the way. ]
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The air is cool as they make their way through the nighttime streets, faintly damp and whispering with a breeze that's indefinably different from the air circulation on a ship or station. Above them, the stars are distant, dimmed by atmosphere and the haze of light pollution. From here you can almost see why most species started off believing the sky was a flat dome with points of light painted onto it, just a little further beyond the clouds.
The bar itself is already lively by the time they get there, light and noise and warmth spilling out into the street as the door opens. It's busy enough for a good atmosphere without being too crowded. Up on the poky little stage, there's a guy wailing soulfully into a microphone. Rocket considers him dubiously. He doesn't recognize the song, but he's reasonably sure it's not supposed to sound like that]
At least the bar's set good and low I guess [He shrugs and jerks his head towards the bartop] C'mon, if we're gonna have to sit and listen to this, I need a drink.
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And then Thanos happened. Xandar was almost destroyed. Gamora died. A lot of people suffered. The galaxy changed forever, and even after they set it right again, some things were still broken. He was broken. Peter had been miserable for a long time, and their conflict with the High Evolutionary had brought his worst fears to the surface. If he had lost Rocket back then, or any of his friends, he would have lost it forever.
Now that that is over and that he has a much better understanding and acceptance of his place in the universe, Peter is trying to focus on the good things he still has in life. And Rocket, alive and humoring him despite Peter driving him up the wall on occasion, is one of the really few good things he still has.
It's why it's easy to smile and joke around him, sometimes to pull his leg, others simply because Peter is in one of the rare moods where he's genuinely happy, and his smile isn't a mask. That happens more often than not around Rocket.
The fresh air is something he welcomes, especially after living in enclosed ships for so long. The guardians had to stop by planets with actual sunlight every now and then to make sure Groot and Peter could stay in good health, but they never stayed grounded for long. Peter's even gotten a bit more tanned since he started living here and keeps a more stable sleep schedule, so he's feeling more energetic these days. He misses the stars; nothing you can see on Earth compares to the beauty of deep space, but you can't have everything.
Once at the bar, greeted by the lively atmosphere, Peter has to suppress a laugh at the face Rocket is making at the questionable singer. He pats him on the shoulder. ]
The bar is a tripping hazard in hell, and the people here aren't drunk yet, so that's saying something. We can do so much better than that. [ He doesn't have to be told twice, though, moving to take a seat and gesturing to the barman to get their drinks, but instead of asking for a cocktail directly, he turns to grin at Rocket. ]
We should ask for some vodka shots first to warm up. In Terra, we have a lot of drinking games involving those too. Whatcha say?
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They make their way across the bar, weaving around knots of people standing around chatting and drinking. Out of habit he does an absent sweep of the room, making a note of exits and anyone who seems like they might be a threat. The latter doesn't turn up much. In his time on Terra he's learned that the average drinking establishment is fairly tame compared to what he's used to; you've gotta go pretty downmarket to even find a realistic chance of getting into a worthwhile barfight, never mind anything with a body count.
Probably things being that tame would get boring eventually. But for now it's still a novelty, and it's kind of relaxing not having to be too on guard.
He slides onto the barstool next to Peter and answers that grin with one of his own] You know I'm down. What you got in mind?
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The nosiest of the lot right now is a small group of seven women whooping with laughter and chatting loudly on a table close to the stage, their hands full of colorful cocktails. They're all dressed similarly, in black clothes, and bring colorful boas and other silly accessories, except one that's wearing a white dress and crown. So, a bachelorette party, for sure.
Peter gives them an amused, fond look as he watches one of them drag the future bride-to-be on stage for a duet to the song Hips Don't Lie by Shakira before his attention goes back to Rocket. It's nice to see his friend grinning in a way that doesn't mean trouble, but also that doesn't not mean trouble either. A bit of both, as they like it. ]
Something silly and fun, relaxing. Hopefully, that will get us pleasantly buzzed. [ Nothing like the conversation they had over breakfast the other day, he means. Tonight's a night to have a good time. When the barman shows up to take their order, Peter simply asks for a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. ]
Most of the drinking games I know need more than two people to be played, alas, but there's the forever classic 'never have I ever'. With the amount of weird shit we have both done, that one could be something.
Basically, you say something you've never done in the past, like 'I've never been arrested', and if the other person has done it, they drink. You can also say something you know you've done, like the arrest statement, in which case we both drink.
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Really sorry for the delay, work killing me this week and I'm exhausted X_x
Same, this week has been a nightmare 😭 also fun fact, I've sung this at karaoke in cosplay as Pet
Gods, I'm sorry. For the bad week and my delay. And ohhh that sounds like fun! It's a great song.
No worries, take all the time you need <3
Thank you! 💗 This week should be a bit less stressful. I hope yours is good too.