With a turn of a yolk and a push of a button, Rocket pulled the industrial pod he had been flying around in to the ground, spotting the towering figure of Groot crouched down in one of the dank streets, focused on something Rocket could not see. Mind you, Rocket couldn't see anything much: Terran stupidity had driven him to blind rage. He could barely drive the pod. Damn it, damn it! He thought as the pod spiraled lower, remembering Quill's sacrifice. If there was one thing he hated, it was selflessness. He gave the yolk a pull, steadying the pod. It landed with a resounding thump. Rocket peered out of the window.

Drax lay in a pool of yellow goo beside Groot, breathing heavily, broken and defeated. Rocket neither knew nor cared what had happened. With a final button push the pod door slid open, revealing the fuming little racoon.

"Blasted idiot." He was saying as he hopped from the pod, landing on a patch of grass. "They're all idiots!" Looking up from the spluttering Drax, Groot could clearly see that Rocket was spitting with fury. The spindle finger he had grown to save Drax vanished back into his hand.

"Quill just got himself captured!" Rocket growled, throwing up his arms in an appeal to the whole galaxy. Then, as his anger reached new heights, he rounded on Drax.

"None of this ever would have happened if you didn't try to single-handedly take on a frickin' army!" Rocket waited for Drax to rise to his feet, for his booming voice to cut him off, to insult him, for the rock like fists to start flying.

Drax drooped even closer to the ground, his head low. All the courage and purpose he had derived from his blood mission, from his need for vengeance, had gone. Now there was nothing but despair. Rocket was most uncharacteristically caught off guard.

"You're right. I was a fool." Drax said quietly. "All the anger, all the rage, was just to cover my loss."

One of Groot's vine like hands twisted over Drax's shoulder, supporting him. Rocket looked on at the scene, at the heartfelt compassion from his companion. He'd always known what Groot was really like under all that muscle; only a kind hearted creature wouldn't instantly judge Rocket for how he looked. So far he counted two instances of this happening: Groot and a certain blonde Terran. He felt his heart twinge. It was an unfamiliar feeling: Rocket didn't like change.

"Oh, boo-hoo-hoo." He said mockingly. "My wife and child are dead!"

Groot raised one hand to his mouth, gasping in horror.

"Oh, I don't care if it's mean!" Rocket snarled. "Everybody's got dead people! It's no excuse to get everybody else dead along the way!"

Groot stared at him boldly, his face suddenly disapproving; a look Rocket had never seen on his face before. Suddenly, Rocket felt the pressure; like he was in the wrong. He stared at them both, before flailing for his words. He could only wish that he wasn't trying to convince himself as much as he was Groot.

"Come on, Groot. Ronan has the Stone." He said with harsh finality, turning away. "The only chance we got is to get to the other side of the universe as fast as we can and maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to live full lives before that whack-job ever gets there."

"I am Groot."

Rocket turned back to face Groot.

"Save them?" He was incredulous. "How?"

"I am Groot."

"I know they're the only friends that we ever had." Rocket felt himself choke up slightly. "But there's an army of Ravagers around them. And there's only two of us!"

Drax chose that moment to push himself to his feet, standing tall once again, one hand on Groot's shoulder in solidarity.

"Three." He said.

Rocket looked at them both. "Aw!" He growled in frustration. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth; choosing to play the hero was one thing, but being forced to play the hero… He began to vent his frustration on a tuft of grass growing between the slates of the street.

"You're making – me – beat – up – grass!" He roared, punctuating each word with a blow to the little tuft.

"I am Groot…" If that's what it takes…

"Hell." Rocket said, stopping his siege against the vegetation. "If we're going to do this, we're going to need one hell of a plan –"

Rocket stopped mid-sentence, blinked, and suddenly remembered. A feeling of dread took hold of him.

"Hold up – where's blondie?"

Groot's eyes widened in alarm.

"I am Groot!" He cried.

"I thought she was with you!"

Rocket whirled around on Drax, probably to blame him yet again, but he stopped. Drax had walked away from the tub of gloop that might have claimed his life, and was stooped over something, the ground blackened where he stood. Rocket shot a perplexed look at Groot, who simply shrugged. Drax was very still; he was deep in thought, clearly thinking hard. Then he reached out with one arm to the ground, scooping something up in one hand before straightening.

He turned back, a strange light in his eyes. Rocket recognised it. It was a resignation towards the terrible inevitable.

"Is this not her garment?" He held it out with one massive hand. The blue fabric of the jacket moved a little in the breeze.

Rocket looked at Drax, what he was holding, and then where he was standing. Scorch marks scarred the ground beneath his feet, black and broad; intense heat had brought them there no doubt. And for these to be right next to Ellie's jacket...

Rocket knew exactly what the marks were straight away; his mind had been primed ever since the experiments on him had ended to identify any technology, or indeed remains of technology. He knew what it was, but he didn't want to believe it.

Groot knew it too.

"I am Groot." Necrocraft. He said. One had landed here.

Rocket seized the fur on either side of his face in vexation. "Ah hell."