Rocket stared at the Terran for several long moments, looking more confused and uncertain than Peter had ever seen the raccoon before. He blinked a few times, as if he was not believing what he was seeing, to which Peter smiled reassuringly.

But that smiled quickly slipped away as Rocket's eyes suddenly widened with panic as he came to feel the tube going down his throat, in the same instant realizing where he currently was.

Rocket immediately began fighting the tube, gagging as his eyes shut tightly. He tried to push himself up by his arms, only to cry out as pain exploded through his body at the sudden movement. His cry was muffled, due to the tube, but it still tore at Peter's heart.

He couldn't stand seeing Rocket in such pain, knowing full well that their smallest member was in this situation because of him.

The Terran reached forward, firmly but gently grabbing hold of Rocket's cheeks. He knew that if Rocket kept fighting, the raccoon would only aggravate his injuries and he just couldn't allow that happen. Rocket was already in so much pain.

"Woah, woah, take it easy. Calm down, Rocket, calm down." He kept his voice gentle, even if he wanted nothing more than to break down. "Just look at me. Rocket, look at me."

Rocket slowly stopped moving and forced his eyes open, those brown orbs brimmed with tears. He stared into Peter's eyes, as if begging the Terran to take his pain away. Rocket had never looked at him in such way and Peter fought his own tears away, gently stroking Rocket's cheek with his thump.

"I know it hurts, buddy. I know." He whispered softly. "But you have to calm down. You're hurt and sick. I know how you feel about this place, but it's the only choice we have at the moment."

Rocket let out a whimper and closed his eyes, leaning into the Terran's touch. He was so very tried and in so much pain. He wanted so badly to leave he just wanted to go home. He wanted the pain to stop and he wanted to go home.

He just wanted go home.

Peter sighed sadly and closed his eyes for a moment, a tear slipping down his cheek from seeing his friend in s much distress. He took a deep breath and reopened his eyes. He moved one of his hand away from the raccoon's cheek and placed it on Rocket's head, carefully stroking the fur.

"I'm so sorry, buddy. So very sorry." His shoulders trembled as he tried to hold it together. "This is my fault, you're in here because of me. I would take your place if I could, I really would."

Tears began to travel down his cheeks and a broken sob managed to escape his lips. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Rocket's, missing the way Rocket looked at him with saddened eyes.

"But I can't and I'm so sorry." He bit his lip and sniffled, trying to calm himself down. "I know I have no right to ask you, but I, along with everyone else, need you to do this. I know you hate hospitals, but you can't leave. If you do, you will die. So please, Rocket, you have to do this."

Rocket closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against Peter's, a sudden tiredness washing over him.

He wanted to tell Peter that it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't to blame, but the tube kept him from speaking a single word. He hated the blasted thing. It hurt and kept him from uttering a word. He had no way of communicating with anyone and that alone made him felt helpless.

He hated it.

Without his voice, how was supposed to tell Peter that he didn't blame the Terran for his pain. It had been his choice to go after the Walkman, he had done it because, while he would never admit it out loud, he cared.

He cared about them, all of them. They were his family. It was something he had believed he would never would find, but they had all proved him wrong. And Rocket had never been happier in his life.

They were the first to ever care for him, to show him that they didn't care about what he was. He was family and they would gladly slit the throat of anyone who dared say different.

So he didn't want Peter to blame himself, he had done it because he wanted to. And he would gladly do it all over again.

Sensing movement behind him, Rocket's eyes snapped open and he pulled his head away from Peter's grip, turning it to see who it was. At the sight of the white coat and syringe in the man's hand, his instincts took over.

His ears folded back as his eyes dilated, his claws tearing through the mattress beneath him. He managed to bare his fangs despite the tube and the fur on his neck bristled, making him look wild and dangerous despite his weakened state. He wanted to snarl at the man, but the tube kept him from making a sound.

It was not needed however, his warning was clear to everyone in that room.

Stay Back!

Peter had moved back at the sudden change in Rocket, having believed that the raccoon wouldn't have the energy to react the way he just did. It was frightening and showed how much Rocket's previous life had and still affected him.

Rocket lived by one rule, a rule built on the pain he had experienced though his life.

Fight back or die.

Rocket didn't trust easy and those he didn't trust, he believed was out to harm him. It didn't matter who it was, male, female, child, they were all the enemy.

Rocket had showed he was willing to move past his instincts, to let others close. The Guardians were a proof of that. But someone they knew Rocket would never trust, was those who had a resembles to the scientist who created him.

It didn't matter how small the resemblance was. If it was there, he wouldn't let them close.

Peter moved forward, only to jump back as Rocket bared his fang towards the Terran, his instincts having taken over so much that he could no longer tell the difference between friend and foe.

"Woah, take it easy there. Calm down, buddy." He kept his voice light and his hands help up in surrender, the lump that had gathered at the base of his throat thick and painful. "It's just me, Peter. Starjerk, remember?"

Rocket's eyes twitched at the sound of Peter's voice and the Terran dared to take a step closer to the bed. He smiled as he saw how the size of Rocket's eyes changed slightly, indicating that the raccoon slowly began to remember the man.

It was only a small indication but to Peter it meant everything. It meant Rocket tursted him enough to fight lifelong instincts.

"That's good, buddy. Just take it easy. I'm here, I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

He knelt down beside the bed and slowly reached out with his right hand, keeping his smile locked in place even as Rocket flinched when his hand got too close.

The whole room had fallen silent, the medical team having stepped back and letting the Terran handle the situation. They stood ready to sedate, would the patient began panic again and risk aggravating his injuries.

Very slowly, Rocket's eyes returned to normal and he looked at Peter with recognition that warmed the Terran's heart. Peter smiled softly and reached out, gently ruffling the fur of Rocket's head.

"That's it, it's alright. I won't let them do anything to harm you, alright?"

Rocket hesitated, but the slowly nodded. He glanced towards the medical team, fear shining through his tired eyes. He bared his fangs in a silent warning, before he turned his head away and closed his eyes, his energy drained after his sudden panic attack.

Peter smiled sadly and nodded towards the doctor, giving them permission to come closer. The doctor gestured for one of the nurses to follow and moved up to the bed, his movements slow in a try not to upset the patient.

"Mister Rocket, we will remove the tube so your lungs have to begin to work again. Do you understand?"

Rocket's left ear twitched at the man's voice, but he refused to look at the doctor. After a few moments of hesitation, he nodded his head.

The doctor then looked at Peter.

"Mr. Quill, would you please help us by holding his head?"

Peter hesitated for a moment and looked at Rocket, silently asking the raccoon if he was allowed to do it. Rocket stared at the Terran for some time but then nodded, knowing he would rather have Peter doing it than anyone else in the room.

The Terran moved forward and sat down on the edge of the bed, gently but firmly grabbing Rocket by the cheeks. As the doctor moved forward, Rocket shut his eyes and his claws dug into the mattress.

The doctor undid the binding around Rocket's snout and grabbed hold of the tube.

"Mister Rocket, when I pull I will need you to cough as hard as you can. Do you understand?"

Rocket nodded, but his eyes remained closed. As the doctor began to pull at the tube and gave him the order, he did his best to cough. The tube began to slide out of his throat and Rocket felt like gagging, the removal forging and painful.

It lasted for only a moment and then the tube was removed. The doctor accepted a breathing mask from the nurse assisting him, but didn't put it on the patient.

Peter removed his hands but kept his eyes locked on Rocket. He felt panic wrap itself around his heart as the raccoon's eyes remained shut, his breathing having stopped completely. Several seconds past with Rocket not breathing, the raccoon's expression twisted in pain.

"He's not breathing!" Peter screamed. "Put it back!"

But the doctor shook his head.

"No, give him some more time. Give his lungs a chance to work."

Peter stared at the doctor as if the older male was crazy. A gasp then filled the room and Peter's eyes were immediately back on Rocket.

Rocket's chest stuttered as he drew a shaky breathing, his expression giving away just how painful the action was for him. But he slowly gained more control over it and the doctor then placed the breathing mask over the raccoon's face, the strain in Rocket's expression easing slightly.

His body sagged with exhaustion and he sank down into the mattress, his whole concentration focused on getting air into his lungs. He was so tired and in so much pain. All he wanted to do was sleep until it all disappeared.

"Mister Rocket, we will need to do several tests to assure there has been no damaged."

Rocket frowned. Didn't the doctor see that he was trying to sleep, that he just wanted to be left alone? Just another reason to hate doctors.

His claws once again dug into the mattress as he felt the doctor remove his covers, hating the way he felt exposed.

"Mister Rocket, would you please move your tail?"

His tail? Why would the doctor want him to do that? What did moving his tail-

Rocket's eyes snapped open and his head spun around to stare at his tail, his eyes full of sudden panic.

"…I-I c-can't."