Hope you enjoy this little ficlet.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Guardians of the Galaxy.
Peter doesn't remember what it was the guy said so it mustn't have been a very good insult. What he does remember though, is that despite it being a bad insult, Rocket has his gun pointed at the guy in a microsecond and is snarling, "Watch it you overgrown piece of blubber! He's the Star Lord!"
It was in fact so strange that Peter almost forget what it was he was supposed to be interrogating the guy about. Luckily, Gamora asked the next question and got his brain back in gear. Later though, he had a chance to think about the incident at his luxury.
It was strange feeling Peter thought, to have people who were proud of you. He had never thought that his teammates were proud to have him, that they respected him the same way they did Gamora or Drax.
He understood why anyone would be proud to have Gamora at their backs. She was one of the best assassins in the galaxy. She had excellent connections and a wealth of experience when it came to dealing with the darker side of the star ways. She was also formidable, beautiful, terrifying and terrifyingly intelligent.
Drax was a no brainer. They called him Drax the Destroyer for a reason. Peter had yet to meet something that actually put him down for long with the exception of Ronan and that guy was dead. Drax was also impressive to look at and those knives didn't hurt the image he presented either. He was their tank and their armor. He took the hits the rest of them couldn't. He had next to no sense of humor but he was brutally honest and he had your back through everything.
Groot was another no brainer. He had sacrificed himself to save them with no certainty that he'd survive for goodness sake. He also had great taste in music, was incredibly strong even more incredibly kind and loved the fight with a glee that matched Drax's. He was also in a way, the purest of them all and Peter valued that in him.
And who wouldn't be proud of Rocket and not want him on their team? As far as Peter was concerned, everyone ought to have a Rocket. If you didn't, how did you exist? The mechanic, bomb loving, gun-toting creature was incredibly smart. He'd engineered their escape from the Klyn all by himself. Peter had seen him hack heavily computerized doors in seconds, patch up the Milano with ⅛ of the equipment required and take down rooms of enemies that were both stronger and faster than himself. He also made bombs so advanced, the science eluded Peter and even Gamora on occasion, invented random pieces of tech that usually turned out useful in the oddest occasions, and was an amazing pilot. He had a sharp tongue that gave back as good as he got, a good taste in music and a deep caring for the people he called friends. He was also always up for an equipment run in a dangerous sector and had pickpocketing skills that made Peter as green as Gamora with envy. It must be the claws.
But why anyone would brag about Peter was a mystery. He was just a half-Terran who was a good shot with a smart mouth and good piloting skills. Barring the half-Terran bit it wasn't actually a rare combination. Out of all the guardians he was the most expendable. There was a million other people out there with his skill set. He'd dealt with a lot of them in his lifetime, heck he'd grown up with some of them. If anything happened to him, the team could just pick up another Peter-skilled person in a matter of days.
But for some strange reason, Rocket hadn't been mocking, when he'd snarled at the overgrown blubber and the others hadn't made light of it either. Which meant, on some level, the others were pretty proud to have him on their team. Peter blinked at the thought. He had known his team was crazy but he hadn't thought that they were that crazy.
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