Hey guys! Sorry to the long gap between updates! Real life got in the way for a while and needed to be handled first. Anyway, hope you all enjoy! :D
It takes a little over three hours to reach Knowhere, the Celestial's disembodied head appearing in the distance like a macabre beacon. Ships of every size and variety flit in and out of the ports, ranging from small personal crafts to large cargo ships. As usual, the place is filled with workers and beggars, scrappers and sellers. Rocket ignores at least a dozen of them when they step onto the main street. They didn't have time for distractions, not with Peter's life on the line.
In the time it had taken them to reach Knowhere, Peter's condition had worsened. His blood pressure was dangerously low and his pulse had shifted to a rapid, skipping beat. Rocket isn't sure how he's still alive when for all intents and purposes Peter should have been dead hours ago. He chalks it up to Ego's DNA (the one and only time he's ever been thankful for Quill's raging dick of a father) and the fact that Peter is just a stubborn bastard and wouldn't know when to die even if someone told him to. But if Quill is still kicking then they're not giving up on him.
He recruits Drax and Kraglin for the landing party and leaves the others on the ship to keep an eye on Peter. He trusts Yondu and Gamora to keep him alive long enough for them to get back and he's worried Mantis will get conned harder than any of them if she sets foot on Knowhere so he decided it would be best to leave her on the ship as well. The trip won't take long but it helps to have a heavily armed ex-Ravager and a warrior who's just this side of insane on his side to make sure everything goes smoothly.
"So where're we gonna find this universal plasma?" Kraglin asks as they make their way down the street, one hand resting on the gun at his hip at all times.
"There are a couple vendors scattered around," Rocket tells him, ducking past a booth that was selling a wide assortment of Kree weapons. "The market for this stuff really took off once salvagers started mining all the biological resources from this place. Most of the supply sold pretty quick but you can still buy it here if you know where to look."
He spots a small, ramshackle booth tucked in the alley between two buildings, the roof partially collapsed and the storefront dark. "Places like that," Rocket says with a small smirk, nodding them forward.
"You sure?" Kraglin asks as they approach, quirking an eyebrow at the crumbling booth. "Don't look like anybody's home."
"They're home," Rocket assures him, coming to a stop in front of the booth and knocking against the decaying wood with the butt of his gun. There's a shuffle of movement behind the counter and a small, slimy face appears from the shadows.
"What d'ya want?" the vendor snarls, beady eyes flickering between the three visitors standing before him.
"Universal plasma," Rocket tells him simply. "I know you have some."
There's a hissing sound that might be a laugh. "No plasma here. Sold out."
"You're lying," Rocket counters, eyes narrowing slightly. "And I ain't got time for lies. Universal plasma," he says again, holding up a thin disc for the vendor to see. "We'll pay you ten thousand units for it."
Another hissing, snickering laugh meets his proposal and the vendor squirms into view. He looks like a centipede crossed with a gecko, all slimy, grey-mottled skin with way too many legs. His eyes are small and pitch black and they dart restlessly from one face to the next.
"Universal plasma costs more," he tells them, grinning with rows of sharp, grey-tinted teeth. "Fifty thousand for a liter. No less."
Rocket balks. "Fifty thousand?! You're outta your freakin' mind!"
The vendor offers him a slimy smirk. "Fifty thousand or nothing."
Rocket growls low in his throat. "How about ten thousand and my friends here don't rip each and every one of your legs off."
That seems to interest both Drax and Kraglin and they take a menacing step toward the booth. The vendor swallows thickly. "Forty-five thousand."
"Ten."
"Forty."
"Ten."
The vendor hisses venomously. "I'll sell it to you for thirty thousand. Not a unit less."
Rocket growls again. "Ten or your gonna start losing legs."
The vendor snarls and ducks behind the counter like he's trying to make an escape but Drax stops him. More accurately, Drax punches through the wooden booth and catches a handful of the slimy creature, jerking him back through the splintered boards and hoisting him up into the air. Kraglin steps forward calmly and presses his gun to the creature's middle. "Tried to be nice about it," he tells him with a small shrug.
The vendor hisses and spits and squirms but can't break loose. He lets out an enraged growl and sags in Drax's grip. "Fine. Ten thousand."
"See? Not so hard," Rocket says, nodding to Drax. The tattooed Guardian drops him with a huff, clearly disappointed that he didn't get to uphold the promise of leg removal.
The vendor hisses at him before slinking back into the booth and digging through a number of hidden compartments. After a few seconds, he reappears with a small, plastic pouch filled with opaque fluid. He growls at them once more before tossing it to Kraglin.
"We'll need two," Rocket tells him, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling him with a glare.
The vendor sneers and bares his sharp grey teeth. "None left. That's the last bag."
"Is it?" Rocket asks dubiously as Drax takes another step forward. They're met with a string of extremely vulgar curses before another bag is miraculously located inside the booth and tossed to them. Kraglin catches the other bag and tucks them both in his jacket carefully.
"Pleasure doin' business with you," Rocket says with a mock salute, receiving another barrage of curses and insults for his efforts. He ignores the irate vendor and turns away, tossing the payment over his shoulder and hearing it bounce across the wooden counter.
"Uh, okay, not that I'm not impressed with your negotiation skills or anythin' but how do we know what we got is legit?" Kraglin asks as they make their way back toward the port. "Like, that guy could've just sold us a bag'a dirty water and now we're ten thousand units out and Quill is screwed."
"I scanned it when we got there," Rocket tells him, stopping at another booth and buying a few other supplies. "That's how I knew he had a stock back there. It's legit, don't worry; that stuff is impossible to replicate or pollute. Universal plasma is some of the purest stuff in...well, the universe which explains why it's so valuable. It should keep Quill goin' long enough for us to reach Xandar." He tucks the rest of the supplies under one arm, hoping his companions didn't notice the way his voice dipped a little bit on the word 'should'.
Groot is waiting for them when they get back to the ship. "I am Groot," the little tree creature scolds impetuously.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Rocket says, rolling his eyes as he scoops the tiny Guardian up onto one shoulder. "It took longer than expected; we had to make a couple threats."
"I am Groot."
"What?! No! I just told the guy Drax would break all his legs if he didn't make the sale."
"Which I didn't get to do," the tattooed Guardian grumbles.
"Next time, big guy," Rocket promises as he passes Groot off to his disappointed friend. "How's Quill holdin' up?"
Groot's expression falls a bit and he frowns. "I am Groot," he says quietly, shaking his little head.
"Not good, huh?" Rocket asks although he had expected as much before he even asked. "Well, don't worry pal, we got some stuff that'll fix 'im up til we get the Xandar."
"I am Groot?"
"Yes, really. Have I ever lied to you before?" Groot opens his mouth and Rocket immediately shakes his head. "Actually, no, don't answer that."
Peter hasn't moved (which is no great surprise) but he looks worse than ever. His skin is alarmingly grey and his fingernails have turned a dusky blue. There are dark, ugly bruises under both eyes, giving him an even more sunken, ghoulish appearance. Overall, Peter is pulling off an uncomfortably good impression of a corpse.
Both Gamora and Mantis are sitting by the bed, Mantis holding one of Peter's limp hands in both of her own. Rocket doesn't know if she's trying to keep him relaxed or try to gage his emotions; Peter is comatose so both options seem pretty futile but he doesn't have the heart to tell her that.
Gamora is sitting beside her, one hand resting against Peter's chest. She's staring at his face watching for any sign of wakefulness, and she's so immersed in the act she barely notices them return.
Yondu does though, stepping out of the way from where he was keeping watch by the door. "Took ya long enough," he mutters, nodding to Kraglin as they walk in.
"Blow me," Rocket retorts over his shoulder, the remark flat and lacking its usual snark. He drops the armload of supplies on the floor next to the bed and begins assembling them deftly, creating a makeshift IV pole. He retrieves the two bags of plasma from Kraglin and hooks one of them onto the pole, setting the other bag on the closest table.
At one time the Milano had all the equipment necessary to start an IV if needed but now only contained a few clamps and cannulas and two usable lines. Necessary but not exactly helpful without all the other components. Rocket managed to pick up the parts they needed while on Knowhere and was now able to put them all to good use.
After a few minutes of piecing everything together, the IV is ready. Rocket hops up on the bed and takes Peter's arm when Mantis releases his hand. The crook of his arm is a mass of bruises and needle marks and Rocket feels a low growl rumble in his chest as he stares at the ugly patchwork.
He tries to locate a usable vein but it's nearly impossible; Peter's blood pressure is so low the veins have collapsed in his arms. He slides the needle in twice, each time unsuccessful, and curses bitterly.
Sighing, he moves up to the head of the bed and tips Peter's head to the side. His jugular vein is the next best option but it was something Rocket was trying to avoid. Still, they don't have much of a choice and Peter needs the Universal Plasma right freakin' now so Rocket settles with the new approach.
"Sorry about this, Quill," he mutters as he slides the needle into the large vein in the side of Peter's neck, securing the line deftly with a strip of tape.
"How'd you learn to do all that?" Kraglin asks, nodding toward the reconstructed IV pole.
Rocket frowns and shakes his head. "Trust me, I've been in enough labs and medical facilities to know my way around the equipment," he says, the words coming out bitter and raw like they leave a bad taste in his mouth. "Now everybody strap in. Our next stop is Xandar."
More to come soon guys! :D