Oh my. It has been over a month since I last made an update to this story, and I will briefly give my excuses. 1. Schoolwork; 2. I started my own original manuscript. I hope this clears up a little about why there have been no updates. Quite sorry about that. The next chapter will be a little bit longer than the normal chapter to compensate this one being a bit on the short side. I really wanted to get an update out, so this is what I had written up to today. Under no circumstance will I not finish this. I must. I will. Either way, please enjoy, and make sure you reread the end of the last chapter if don't remember what's going on! :)

Rocket stumbled down the hallway of the Milano in a dazed and slightly drugged fashion. His gait showed no signs of letting up, and he had things that he wanted to do on his own. Suddenly the hall opened up into a clearing, otherwise known as the common area of the ship. The transmitter that he was working on lay where it was, in the same shape as it had been before Peter decided to take the ship for an athletic jaunt. It was mostly a bundle of wires and circuit boards within an open metal frame, but in his mind was something entirely more complex.

Each part of the system was clearly defined in an almost robotic sense. Rocket learned to capture this skill he picked up and turn it into something useful. Instead of seeing parts on the floor as tripping hazards, he thought of new and creative ways to assemble them into something great. What other saw as junk was the master plan he had been developing all along. It just had to be thought up first.

Rocket solemnly limped over to the contraption, his eyes focused on the machine itself. Just because an electronic appeared safe did not mean it was not damaged. He had unfortunately learned this the hard way with one of his blasters. He reached his paw out to the frame and ran his hand down it, feeling the cool metal on his pads. Next, he checked the wiring on each of the devices meticulously, searching for a fatal flaw that could bring the whole system down. There was no such luck, as all the wires were still in their respective places.

Rocket began to organize the cables into neat bundles while thoughts on why Peter was taking so long formed in his head. He had simply gone back in to collect a few things, not go out and have a snack break. He captured a zip tie from the floor and secured a bundle together, smiling at his handiwork. Just as he was about to install the next component of the system, Peter finally walked through the door.

At first, Rocket could not tell why exactly Peter looked different, as human emotions were still a mild blank to him.

"I thought you were never coming back," Peter said as he looked at Peter more closely. His eyes were a bit puffier than usual, and he was gripping some papers particularly tight.

"I dropped some stuff on the way out and had to reorganize it," Peter replied casually while setting down some of the items in his arms. Rocket generally was horrifically unable to distinguish emotions people were giving off, but in this situation, he felt like he knew. The strange inflection of the voice was what mostly gave it away, as well as the fidgeting and anxious movements and postures.

As Rocket began to screw in some nuts on the frame, he realized why Peter was likely lying. He had discovered his personal medical documents, those which were never supposed to see the light of day. Rocket knew he had only two clear options. One, confront him about it. Or two, the much simpler and ultimately correct option, just not bring it up. Peter walked off to his room after setting his leather jacket on one of the hooks on the wall, leaving Rocket to his own devices in the common room.

Peter entered his bedroom in a rush, eager and also dreadful of what the entirety of the documents read. He was only able to read a small portion of it within the hospital without looking too suspicious. In all honesty, the documents were dreadful just to even have in his pocket. They were interesting and important, but would lead to something extremely unfortunate.

Peter's hand dipped into his pocket until his fingers curled around the smooth edges of the paper. He tugged out the document that had been folded into 3 folds, smelling the comforting smell of printed paper and ink. He opened the paper up and began to read word for word what the document was saying.

For the first few moments, Peter easily handled the details of the situation. But his mood became easily compromised under the conditions. His forehead became filled with beads of sweat. He read almost aloud the text from the page.

"Patient: Rocket (R.) (Patient 86624)"

"Date of Birth: N/A (Predicted 4 years of age)"

"Place of Birth: N/A"

"Description of Patient: Patient appears to be a raccoon with cybernetic implants along the spinal column and other locations throughout the body, most notably the brain. Implants have enabled the patient to speak and locomate in a humanlike way, and can also express a vast number of emotions. Vocabulary is well defined, with mental capacity somehow exceeding any known records. Genetic experimentations appears to have been the cause behind the implants. Patient is relatively provocative, and becomes unstable under restraint. Signs of seclusion and radical thinking have been observed. (Last Updated 11/5/14)"

Peter kept himself composed, but reading the description almost made him lash out in anger. It was strange to see how just an objective survey of Rocket seemed so rude. He calmed himself down and learned to live with the fact that a doctors job was objective analysis. Besides, the meat of the paper had yet to be ripened.

"Known Major Medical History:"

"Cybernetic Implants along Spinal column, brain, most joints, throat, and legs. (Date N/A)"

"Full body X-Ray and CAT scans performed (3/3/11)"

"Analysis and removal of implants that were causing considerable pain" (3/5/11)

"Treatment of Pneumonia (4/25/11)"

"Treatment of Pneumonia (7/4/11)"

"Treatment of Pain in Back (4/01/12)"

"Additional X-Ray scans performed on back (9/23/12)"

"Treatment of Pneumonia (10/30/12)"

"Failed Psychological Examination (12/17/12)"

"Possible Major Cybernetic Reconstruction Discussed (2/01/13)"

"Failed Psychological Examination (4/17/13)"

His fingers gripped the paper firmly, leaving marks where he had been holding it. Peter shifted on to his back on the bed. The sheets and comforter indeed comforted him in this time of need. As he continued on to read the rest of the medical information, it was strange to see why Rocket had come down with Pneumonia so many times. Possibly his lungs were affected by the implants. Or maybe raccoons just had terrible lungs.

"Possible Major Cybernetic Reconstruction Discussed (8/12/13)"

The doctors seemed to be quite concerned with the health of Rocket of the course of his life. It started off with back pain, and then progressed on to even worse options.

"Additional X-Ray scans completed. (1/02/14)"

"Euthanasia discussed (1/05/14)"

Peter knew that things were starting to deteriorate at that point. Doctors had found something within the X-Rays during that time which concerned them enough to the point of possible euthanasia. He had never thought it had been so severe though. Peter flipped through the pages of the packet explaining the growth and development of his body until he came to the red pages.

The red part of the packet contained the most important information, and was regarded as the most critical piece of records that could be used. In Peter's case, it was just some issues regarding his lungs, but Rocket's was much lengthier and much more sad. It was the portion of the document that Peter had read the first time he saw it. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to read it again. There were some dark and saddening things in the papers. but so much to be learned as well.

Curiosity got the best of Peter, and he gave in. The papers rustled as he read, each word a gripping conclusion to Rocket's life.

"Record: Euthanasia Discussed (1/05/14)"

"Reason for Visit: To establish the and plan the future of patient Rocket (R.) in hopes of the best life possible under the circumstances the patient is in.

"Evidence and key points: Euthanasia may be a viable option in the case that spinal degradation due to cybernetic implants on the spine cause irreparable damage to locomotion or mental control. In such a case, it may be better for the patient to willfully end his own life before conditions worsen to the point where he can no longer make a decision. The patient has provided the basis that it should not be him who would make such a decision, but up to the best judgement to whoever his caretaker was at the time. The patient also strongly opposed to claim that he would be fine and that he would live his life the way he wanted.

Patient has only 7-11 months left of decent motor skills before the spine becomes inflamed to the point of loss of movement. Patient will then be hospitalized until the end of his life, with mental capacity shrinking for an additional estimated time of 2-3 months. The margin of error within the calculations was an average of 12 weeks."

Peter looked up from the paper, his stomach suddenly feeling ill. The clash of metallic noises outside signaled that work was being done on the project, and that reality was still intact. But it did not feel that way to Peter. He leapt up from his bed in a daze and hovered over to his closet. He snuck the papers under a box on the top shelf. If Rocket was able to find them, it wasn't like he had much time to complain about it.

Peter stopped as he realized just how absurd that thought was. No one was going to die, no one in the immediate future. Why was he wasting his time thinking about it, mourning over it. His hands fell to his sides and he closed the doors. Once they had come together with a slight tap, Peter leaned against them and put his hands over his face. His body became limp and his knees buckled before him.

The friend which he once thought of as a recalcitrant pain in the ass had now become someone deeply embedded into his life. Perhaps this was his destiny. It always seemed that in life the universe was ready to screw him over at every available moment. His mother had died when he was a child, and then abducted. He had retrieved a highly prized relic that ended up being the mendacious task he was ever sent on. There was a sudden overflow of emotions, so he let them all out. Peter's psychological moment left him thinking about his mother, his own life, Gamora, Drax, and Rocket.

Outside of his room, Rocket worked on the broadcaster, unaware of just how distressed Peter was over the situation. He looked at the machine with glee, now nearing completion of a system so overly complicated that it could be officially and undoubtedly be stamped by his own approval. The machine lay in the middle of the common room with a splay of materials on the floor. Rocket noticed the disarray he had created and attempted to clean it all up.

Rocket padded to the machine, now a hunk of metal bars with flashing lights, and grabbed around the top bar with his paws. Using all of his weight, he pushed as hard as he possibly could but to no avail. The machine would not budge, not today, and definitely not tomorrow. Rocket leaned against the metal frame of his work and sought to find Peter and ask him to move it for him.

Instead of moving the hard tasks, he spent a few minutes going around the room and picking up random tools and sorting them into bins that he had made. They were thickly coated with dust, and every time something was dropped in, a cloud of death would float up and away from the container. Rocket thought about how methodical the whole situation was, and found it quite comforting.

Just as Rocket was sorting out the last few things, voices made themselves heard from down the hallway. His ears perked up to listen to what was being said.

"So you hear what happened to Rocket?" There was a short pause before a male voice responded.

"No, what happened to him? Is he alright?" The woman let out a small chuckle of amusement, as if Rocket couldn't be killed under any circumstance.

"Choked on some data device while Peter and him were exploring a ship. Also strained some joints, but his pain medications been mulling over that." The voices were now very close, and the two were about to pass into the common room. Rocket decided not to take cover, as it did not appear that the two were in any way hostile.

Gamora and Jason appeared from around the corner, much to Rocket's own surprise.

"Well speak of the devil, he's here now," Gamora said as she parked the wheelchair Jason was in next to the metal machine. Rocket walked over to Jason without a limp and stretched out his hand in admiration. Jason graciously accepted, but denied it's necessity.

"What's this tin can here?" Jason asked with sarcasm. Rocket freely walked over in silence and put his paw down on the metal frame.

"This is what we are gonna use to defeat the Ranger." Jason pursed his lips and smiled. The ingenuity behind the machine actually was brilliant, but Rocket preferred not to take credit over weapons that could be used for mass destruction. There was no saying the machine would even make it out of the battle alive.

"Where is Peter?" Gamora asked as she took a few steps into the room. Her verdant face radiated no clear emotions or actions, just the fact that she wanted a clear and precise answer.

"I think he went to his room," Rocket stated. Gamora took two taps on the back of Jason's wheelchair before exiting the room down the hallway. Jason's eyes peered around the spacecraft, his desires set on ensuring the destruction of the Ranger.

"How easy do you think it will be to take him down?" Jason rolled towards the contraption. Rocket stood in the room, wiping his paws off with a rag as Jason maneuvered his way around the room. It seemed as though Jason had spent time before in the wheelchair prior to his current disability.

"It depends. What do you care, anyway. It's not like you're leading the fight." Jason turned his head from the machine to Rocket. His eyes glanced down at the metallic floor.

"I feel like I'm putting you in excess danger. It was my request for you to be here." Rocket took a few steps forward, the walls seeming quiet considering the amount of passengers aboard. He stopped when he stood alongside the wheelchair, the two of them looking at the machine. It did not hum and whir, as it had been disabled to preserve energy.

"Look, Jason, Peter knew what he was going getting himself into when he accepted this mission. We trust him." Jason leaned back in his chair, the back adjusting to his new position.

"Yes, but since you've got here you've almost been killed multiple times. Is that really the life you want?" Rocket went from being passive to bothered by Jason's change of heart. "I could call you off, go back to the Nova Corps. You have a life ahead of you." Rocket almost scoffed in amusement. If only Jason knew what he did.

"You think just because you got injured that we can't handle this? Is that what this is all about?" Rocket turned himself around, prepared to get himself away from Jason if it was necessary. His paws subconsciously made spiraling motions as parts on the floor looked like they could be connected together into something useful.

"Yes and No. I of all people should know that life is too short to waste. I thought you were expendable. I gave you a night in my home, free clothes, because I thought you were all going to die. Everyone else I sent died." Jason paused and Rocket looked away from his parts. Rocket thought just for a moment that maybe Jason was right.

Rocket didn't have much time left, so why was he spending it dangerously with his friends? Perhaps his friends were the entire reason. There was nothing he knew more enjoyable than what he was spending his time doing. Gamora provided relief and assassin skills to the team. She was reliable and mysterious. Drax was funny and strong. With their short time together, he felt like he sympathized with him the most.

But Peter was the main reason he had stayed on the crew. Never before had he met someone so determined and courageous as Peter Quill. Peter thought he was useful, looked to him for advice, and saw him as a part of the team. Even though he actively protested Peter's plans, they were better than some of the things that he had come up with.

Jason would not be the one to make him look like a fool in their team. Peter surely would not approve of abandoning everything they had done when they were already so far into the process of winning. He turned to face Jason head on.

"Look, you idiot, we are going to defeat whoever this is with or without your help. No one gets in our way," Rocket growled. Defensively, and probably for the best, he decided to throw his lot in with Gamora and Peter. As Rocket made his way down the hall, Jason gave one final warning to him.

"So be it Rocket, but make your time count." Rocket stopped dead in his tracks. His ears perked up, alert, but calm. Somehow the feeling that Jason knew about his medical history came over him. Rocket clenched his fists as he felt he was beginning to lose a grip on reality, before flattening his ears and heading further down the hall.

So thank you all for reading this short installment. What do you think will happen when they all get into a room? How do you think it will end? Leave a review! Follow! Have an awesome Winter Break! (I will likely have the last chapter out later this week)!