Right, so this was written for AO3, but since it takes place in the same universe as my Sighs of Yondu series I had to post it here too, and because I use my OC...and it's also my first Rocket fic too! xx

Set about a year after the battle of Xander

rated T for swearing

Rocket the Ravager. Chapter 1

"Subject: 89P13 is beginning to come round."
"Ah who cares, if he's awake or asleep for this."

Rocket wanted to scream out, like he had so many times before, before they saw sense and muzzled him, now he was tied to the cold table like an animal, his jumpsuits having been removed at some point whilst their experiments continued. He hated being naked, it made him exposed…vulnerable. They had picked up exactly where they had left off, what more did they want from him?

He felt the scalpel going into his left arm, and almost on instinct twitched, knowing that it was narrowly missing a vein. Perhaps it would hit, perhaps he would bleed out all over the table, there that would show them. He willed his eyes shut, their voices so familiar it was like he had never left.

"89P13, heart rate elevated".

"That's not my name, you bastard", he tried to scream through the muzzle, it wasn't his name it hadn't been for a year, it was stricken from his record to be replaced with Rocket…he was Rocket, and this was a dream, no a nightmare.

As always he let his mind play to distract from the pain, perhaps he had screamed out, perhaps he had fought back…he didn't remember. The last clear memory was sitting in a bar on Knowhere with the rest of the Guardians, knocking back booze and laughing over their latest victory.
Eventually deciding after an evening of watching Drax trying and failing to understand some sort of game and Peter and Gamora trying to hide that they were screwing each other, even though, the pheromones they were giving off made it impossible to hide. In the end, Rocket had decided to go back to the Milano to check on Groot, out of the pot but only slightly taller than Rocket.

He was close to the hanger so could see the rebuilt ship before something hit him on the back of the head, and he woke up to this. Back to his former life, as he felt another scalpel cutting into his leg, in a crisp sterile room, where he was born and why he hated the colour white as he willed the pain away.
Once upon a time he would dream of a better life where he would never be a prisoner again, the dreams once he knew what the word was due to bombardment of information in his brain, until the moment the words became the norm and he could name everything.

Now he was back where he started, the thought cut into his mind as much as the scalpels, as he wondered about the Guardians, would they be looking for him…did they really give a shit?
He knew he put them through hell at times, he couldn't help it. They were probably celebrating, he was out of their lives like all their dreams were coming true.

Rocket shivered, as one of his implants in his legs was exposed...dreams, maybe this was a dream, and maybe his whole life was a dream made to cope with the vivisections. He wasn't a Guardian, he was nothing…an object on a surgical bed.
Maybe his whole life was a lie made to cope with this, and he had never left Halfworld at all, the thought was so real to him, that for a brief moment a tear slipped down Rocket's fur, even though no one noticed.

There was a part of him that wanted to fight back, needed to fight back, but he was tired, so tired. Recognising the meds that had been injected into his veins to make him docile and he could do nothing about it.

Rocket knew he was with the Halfworld scientists, their scents as familiar as Groot's, wait Groot wasn't real…oh god. Rocket was going insane, muzzled and trapped as he squeezed his eyes shut and just wished for death.

He was vaguely aware of the whistle, even tied to a bed his hearing, mechanical or not was sharper than most, a low tone that seemed to get stronger as Rocket was vaguely aware of scalpels, poised in hands ready to plunge into his skins stopping suddenly.
"What is that?" one exclaimed from behind the mask, as Rocket opened his eyes just in time to see the arrow enter the doctor's throat. For a moment, there was a silence, followed by a fountain of blood staining the white coat, and Rocket thought he must be dreaming.

In seconds almost one after the others, the arrow flew and the assholes fell, in scattered heaps on the floor that was now drenched in their blood, it smelled sticky and metallic to Rocket, as he tried to make sense of all of this…but couldn't.
That left one, still standing, no older then Quill, his scalpel still in his hands, and a look of fear on his face, which for Rocker still in his drug addled brain felt a small moment of satisfaction and bewilderment, before the inevitable unconsciousness begun to take over.

This was the moment that a swish of red and blue strode into the room, as the Ravager, grabbed the Yaka arrow mid-air and placed it back in his belt. Rocket caught the glint of uneven teeth and the redness of his eyes as he glanced down at his muzzled body, and Rocket caught something else, something he couldn't decipher, as mind recalled the name of the Ravager, Yondu…his name was Yondu, he was the Captain.

Now there were more Ravagers coming into the room, some Xandarian some not as the one remaining Scientist was suddenly thrown against the metal wall with a loud thud. Rocket could sense he was terrified, and good the bastard deserved it, and the Raccoon caught a low threatening growl that could have only come from one person. "Stitch him back up". Four words carrying so much weight, as the Scientist looked to be trying to protest, "But I have orders". It came out as a stammer while Rocket just heard laughter, not loud but more surprised at the stupidity of the comment.
"I said…stitch him back up".

Whilst this was going on, one of the Ravagers came over, and leaned over his still open body, Rocket catching the look of concern on his face, which carried a scar on one side of it, and for a moment something familiar about his face which tapped into Rocket's mind and involuntary or not he felt a rise of panic, which caused his heart rate to beep widely across the room.

"He's panicking, you're going to have to knock him out…get me a syringe". The Ravager said, he looked like a hybrid of something, Rocket wasn't sure, as he pulled his eye over to see Yondu releasing his hold on the Scientist, who under the threat of death did as he was ordered.

Rocket tore his eyes away and just felt so tired, added by the coldness that swept through his body courtesy of the pain and anaesthetic, Rocket drifted away just thinking one thing he wished he could verbalise.

"What the fuck is going on?"

To be continued