Chapter 10: The Connection
Rocket ran through the Milano almost blindly, racing for the Cargo Bay and the medical supplies they had there. He could hear Drax pounding down the corridors behind him carrying the unconscious Terran scientist and the large bag that he had said belonged to Seven prior to losing consciousness. Seven seemed to weigh next to nothing in Rockets arms, and though he knew that he was fairly strong due to his cybernetic engineering; he could tell that she was severely malnourished as he could feel the bones of her spine as well as the implants in her back digging into his arms as he carried her. The Cargo Bay doors hissed open and Rocket deposited her onto one of the three med cots they had stored there as gently as he possibly could. Drax laid Dr. Samson on a med cot opposite her in time for Gamora's voice to crackle through his comm watch,
"Gamora to Drax, we need you to take the helm as soon as you can report to the bridge. I need to have a look at that Terran,"
Knowing that Gamora was the only other Team member with any medical knowledge besides Rocket, Drax retreated from the cargo bay turned infirmary as Rocket strapped an oxygen mask over Sevens swollen and bloodied face, careful not to place the masks strap over her swollen eye and cheek bone. Rocket took a tricorder and began scanning Seven to assess her injuries as Peter and Gamora raced in; Gamora going to the Terran at once to stabilize him and Peter jogging to Sevens bedside anxiously, his face strained with worry.
"How can I help?" He asked Rocket as the Procyon scanned her prone form below him; he had hopped onto the cot to better reach his patient, walking up and down her bedside slowly as his scans reported her injuries.
"Well, I'm gonna need a dermal regenerator, that's for sure," Rocket replied, motioning to the storage cabinets behind the beds. Peter moved into action at once as Rocket began attaching a bio bed scanner to Sevens med cot.
"What are we looking at here?" Peter asked nonplussed as he viewed the bio scanners readings.
"Whatever we're lookin at, I need to find a new Intravenous site because the PIC lines she had at that Hell hole are overused and their liable to collapse and cause Infiltration." Rocket replied, using a handheld ultrasonic generator to locate a safe and unused vein and shaving the small patch of fur concealing it to get a clear shot with his needle. Peter nodded wordlessly and made his way to the head of the bed, picking strands of long black and grey hair out of Seven's face as he surveyed her injuries with a quiet fury; a lump constricting his throat. Rocket thrust an antiseptic hypo spray into Peter's hands as he took one for himself and began disinfecting wounds on her hands, arms, and chest.
"Use that on her face; just smooth and steady back and forth motions like so," Rocket demonstrated, and Peter followed, getting to work carefully around her eyes.
"This Terran is in critical condition, I do not know if I will be able to salvage him," Gamora called over her shoulder as she worked to staunch internal hemorrhaging in his lungs.
"Yeah, I'm not too fuckin worried about him right now," Rocket growled, tail twitching irritably as he finally paused to study the readings from the bio scanner. Rocket frowned in concern as Seven began to seize and the wounds on her face began to bleed anew.
"Rocket, tell me what's happening to her!" Peter demanded as several alarms blared shrilly at once, putting Peter on edge.
"Widespread organ cascade flux; apparently those bastards thought it would be a good idea to pump her full of Nanites as a parting thanks for her service. They're traveling through her entire body right now; organs, tissues, bloodstream, the works." Rocket intimated, hopping back with a sudden curse as her broken fingers began to reset themselves with loud pops and cracks and the wounds on her face, arms, and chest began to mend halfway.
"Uh, how the fuck is that happening?!" Peter asked, dropping the antiseptic hypo spray.
"That'd be the Nanites." Rocket replied, hoping that he would at least be able to hydrate Seven Intravenously without the Nanites rejecting the IV in her arm. He filled a hypo spray with 100mg of Triptacederine for pain and injected it into her neck, watching as her blood pressure stabilized and the monitors alarms returned to their normal quiet pinging as they measured her vital signs. Rocket gingerly started a new PIC line in the newly-shaved area on her right forearm, letting out a relieved sigh as he was able to flush it with saline and connect a hydration and nutrient drip without her Nanites rejecting it.
"I have the Terran stabilized for now, but I can guarantee nothing, his injuries are too severe. I believe that he will die before we reach Xandar," Gamora said as she began using a dermal regenerator on one of his head wounds.
"Rocket….?" Peter sounded broken; his voice devoid of its usual easy-going confidence. He couldn't verbalize any further than his pint-sized friends name; but the tone in which he spoke it asked Rocket and Gamora all of the questions that he couldn't voice himself. For his own part, Rocket did not want to look at Quill and tell him that he wasn't sure; even after the Nanites repairing her broken bones and her some of her contusions and wounds. Seven had suffered severe internal injuries, her oxygen saturations were low, and she couldn't breathe on her own yet. There were also the repercussions of the bond that Ego had created between himself and Seven, even now he felt a pull towards her; an instinctual ache to stay with his new Mate and comfort her as much as he could. Rocket had never loved anything or anyone in his life besides Groot; and even that was a different love than this. He had never spoken to this young woman in his life, they hadn't even been introduced yet; but something had drastically shifted in Rocket and he knew that he would never be the same. She had to survive, because he knew that he couldn't live without her.
"I've got her stabilized for now, but she's not in the clear yet." He finally said to Peter, taking a seat on the side of Seven's bed and jabbing a straw into a water ration pack; sucking half of it down in one gulp before he allowed himself to slump against the bedrail. The adrenaline from the mission and subsequent escape was finally subsiding now that he had his Mate stabilized and he was exhausted.
Peter swallowed thickly at the sight of the prone figure of his Sister laid out before him, images of his Mother assaulting his mind in flashes, one after another of her slowly withering before his eyes in the hospital, at the chemotherapy clinic, and then in the Oncology Ward under the care of the Hospice nurses and doctors; All we can do now is make sure that she's as comfortable as possible…
The soft voice of the doctor floated back to him from decades ago, and it made him cringe and ache deep inside; like a gauging wound that had festered and blackened. It was the part of Peter that he buried and kept hidden for as long as possible under the rugged, easy-going jokester that he personified nearly all his life. There was a shadowed place deep in his soul; a void that Meredith Quill, Mother-Companion-Sister-Daughter-Friend had lived and filled with her love and presence, her sweet laughter and kind hazel eyes, her gentleness of spirit. She had been ripped out of that place inside him and he could always feel that gaping hole, ever aching, just below the surface.
"…..Peter?" Gamora asked uncertainly and apparently, for the second time.
"Huh?" He asked distractedly, shaking his head and clearing his throat.
"Can you inform me if the Terrans' condition changes? I need to assist Drax with navigating the next jump, you should stay here with Rocket and…and your Sister," she finished awkwardly, not wanting to call the raccoonoid by a number. Peter nodded, clearing his throat again and trying to rein in his focus better. His Mother was gone and there was nothing that he could do about that; but he could try his damnable best to take good care of his Sister and the Doctor who was partially responsible for keeping her alive before they had rescued her.
"Do you think that she's in a lot of pain, Rocket?" Peter asked suddenly, not meeting the Procyon's eyes fully. Rocket's tail twitched slightly; a sure sign that he was going to answer guardedly with his temper in check as much as he could check it.
"I dosed her with as much analgesic as I safely could. When I read her Tox levels earlier, there were high amounts of several different types of anesthetics in her system residual from all of the experimental procedures that have been done on her lately. From what I could tell, she's had at least a dozen different procedures and modifications done on her in the past 3 to 6 months. From the looks of it, they did a number on her digestive track and stomach too; she isn't able to digest anything solid at all." Rocket said acerbically.
"What the hell would they do that for?" Peter asked, rising from his seat and moving his chair to sit at her bedside; the better to view the vitals scrolling across the bio bed screens.
"Well, it's cheaper to feed the slave laborer with nutritional supplement mush and water rations than actual food right? I was on the same flargin diet once upon a time, Quill." Rocket snipped in agitation at the memories that sprang to mind of his own genetic and cybernetic engineering.
"But…you eat food now, so it's reversible right?" Peter asked hesitantly, knowing that he was treading thin ice with Rocket now. He was almost never forthcoming about his past to Peter, only alluding to bits and pieces of information lately and only if it pertained somehow to Seven's situation. Rockets fur bristled noticeably on his biceps and the back of his neck, the muscles in his jaw working as he made to round on Peter with clenched fists; but when he met the Terrans gaze he deflated almost instantly. Perhaps they were making some kind of progress after all this time; maybe Rocket was finally realizing that Peter considered him as his equal, as his friend. Surely the entire team had been through enough shit together for Rocket to know that they were all mutually connected by an unspoken bond?
"I had a procedure done in a private hospital on Contraxia after I had a decent amount of units to pay a surgeon that I could trust. He was able to reverse most of what they had done to my stomach and intestines, but I still have to take vitamin injections weekly to supplement whatever nutrition that I can't absorb from the food I eat," Rocket admitted quietly. Peter was stunned, saddened, and angered in equal measures at this revelation; no wonder Rocket always kept his guard up and preferred the company of Groot to anyone else aboard the Milano.
"So…..so we're talking another surgery to reverse what they did to her?" Peter asked with concern. Rocket shook his head and cleared his throat, still avoiding Peter's gaze as he answered;
"We need to concentrate our efforts on keeping her alive and stabilized for the next 24 to 72 hours before we even think that far ahead. Right now her body wouldn't be able to handle any kind of invasive procedure if she needed one. The Nanites aren't rejecting her I.V. fluids right now, which is a good sign in and of itself that I might, might be able to place a feeding tube if she needs it. Hopefully she'll regain consciousness soon and start drinking water and nutritional shakes on her own and we won't need to do that on top of everything else."