Written on the train! Have a chapter beyond what I was expecting to write. Working on Risky Business #6 as well. May see it sometime this weekend- I will be stuck on transit for another 6 hours.

"Breathe, dammit! You have lungs, use 'em!" shouted Rocket.

Peter ran, tearing back the curtain divider to see a panicking Rocket, and a more panicking naked Drax (or Groot-turned-Drax, really), covered in soil attempting to breathe. Peter smacked Groot hard on his back, and he began coughing.

"Thank you," he hoarsely spoke once he'd started to breathe properly.

"You really can talk," Peter said, shocked.

"Told you," Rocket replied. "You just can't hear what he's actually saying, with your Terran ears."

"Half Terran ears," Peter corrected, as he started sweeping up the spilled soil in his hands, and rolling the curtain back for Gamora's sake. "Also, my eyesight in regular lighting is ten times better than yours."

"Dude, I was you last night and this morning and couldn't see shit," Rocket replied, combing the floor for broken terra cotta.

"I said regular lighting, not low lighting. You probably have better night vision than me."

"Eh. Whatev's. Groot, you okay there, big guy?"

"Cold," Groot choked out.

"Like I says, dumbass, put on some pants. You have blood runnin' through ya, gotta keep yourself warm. Either that, or turn back into a stick. I can get another pot from storage."

"I don't like being immobile, Rocket," Groot replied, irritated, reaching out for Rocket. "You're… you're soft. Warm. This is so strange. I heard and understood the words before, but… its another thing entirely to put a sensation to a definition."

"Bud, stop molestin' me," Rocket protested, as Groot mussed Rocket's fur.

"Would you be mad if I became you?" Groot asked, rumbling.

"Well, it'd be a helluva lot less awkward than being manhandled by Drax," Rocket replied. "But if you're gettin' sensory overload from bein' him, you're going to go nuts as me. Ah, hell," Rocket groaned, looking up at Peter, almost pleadingly. "Is Drax up? I smell him way too close."

"I am on the other side of the curtain, Rocket, having breakfast," Drax replied, muffled, with his mouth full. "I heard Groot's pot breaking, but Gamora here stopped me. I am not sure I would like to see someone else with my own face- I have not seen one of my own kind since Ronan set my home ablaze."

"Have you…?" Peter started.

"Have I? Have I also turned into one of you? Yes. Two nights ago, when Nova was questioning us, I was extremely worried about Gamora, if they were planning on incarcerating her. My hands began to shrink and become green in color, and I felt hair growing from my scalp. I panicked, and reverted to normal," came Drax's reply, slow and deliberate between bites of food.

Groot looked down at himself, and began shrinking rapidly, browning, and hardening back into a tiny seedling with a ball of roots in lieu of feet. Rocket held out a shoulder, and Groot gripped his fur tightly, before Peter drew back the curtain.

Drax looked between the three of them, nodding. "Thank you for the courtesy."

"M' gru," Groot squeaked out.

"I'll get ya a new pot, hang on," Rocket snapped, playfully, flicking Groot's tiny head with a claw. Peter strode ahead and fished one from the hall closet, dumping some gravel for proper filtration and then topping it with soil. Rocket carefully plucked Groot off his shoulder and set him on the pot, and Groot sunk in his roots, settling in.

"So. What now?" Peter asked, sliding into a bench seat next to Drax. Rocket hopped up on the one free spot, clutching Groot's pot.

"Well. I got one question answered," Rocket said, poking Groot gently as Groot pulled back on Rocket's claw.

"Which is…?" Peter asked.

"We turn into each other as we are. Groot was covered in the same tattoos as Drax. Which means if any of us becomes Gamora or I, they'll get our enhancements too. If Groot just became Drax genetically, he shouldn't have been all marked up like that."

"I was freaking out too much when I became you to take stock of that," Peter said, nicking another piece of bread. "But that's good to know."

"I would… not be adverse to trying this on purpose, Gamora replied. "I don't think for the same reason Rocket does, however. We do actually compliment each other in a fight quite well. But our physiologies are so different, I worry if one of us becomes ill, we won't know how to properly treat it. Or if we are caught and separated, being able to become as small as Rocket or as strong as Drax or Groot would be a boon."

Peter shrugged. "I've been a con man my whole life. Once I had to pretend to be Yondu's kid on a deal, and they even gave me a fake Centurian frill- one that worked. I'm pretty sure turning into a tree isn't so weird after that. Except the whole breathing thing.

"And it seems to me as if we change unwittingly under duress," Drax added. "I'd like to understand my surroundings when this happens."

Not if, when, was the tacit understanding.

"So, who will teach first?" Gamora asked, pushing her hair from her face.

"I will," Rocket replied, quickly. "I still have vertigo from bein' Peter, and all of you are way too tall."

"Wait, you mean now?" Gamora asked, thin silver eyebrow raised.

"Are we doin' anythin' better? Maybe this'll show you how bad your ship's set up for someone my size," Rocket replied. "Gimmie a mo', I'll go make you some clothes in the 3-D printer. Rocket placed Groot's pot reverently in front of Drax, jumped off the table, and scurried down to his workshop.

"Why is he so excited?" Peter asked, as he watched the flash of brown fur barrel belowdeck.

"For the exact same reason I will probably be last," Drax replied. "There are others like him, now."

Fifteen minutes passed by, and Rocket bounded back up to the galley, armful of fabric.

"I used the same- or similar- patterns ya all put in, same materials, but my size." He tossed a pair of black pants and a turtle-necked gray shirt to Gamora, dark blue pants and a thin white sleeveless top to Drax, and a charcoal-gray long sleeve shirt, jeans, and a red hide jacket to Peter.

"These look like infant clothing," Gamora remarked, holding up her garments.

"These look freaking adorable," Peter added with a smirk. "I'm going to be the baddest 'coon in space."

"…why did you provide me with a shirt?" Drax asked.

"Because when you see your back you'll want to put one on," Rocket replied. "But… ah… if yer okay with it, ya don't need to wear it…" he finished, as he trailed off and looked down.

"I will don it, Rocket," Drax stated, gravely, lifting himself from his seat, and carrying dishes to the sanitizer.

"M goo?" Groot cooed.

"I have yours in my shop," Rocket replied. "You've never worn anythin' before, so I can help if ya need it."

"Well, I think I'm going to go loose a hundred pounds in the next five minutes," Peter joked, as he picked up the rest of the plates for the sanitizer, then picked up his tiny clothing, and went to his bunk, drawing the curtains behind him.

Gamora nodded, and went to the head in the cockpit to do the same.

"C'mon, buddy," Rocket said, hefting Groot's flowerpot. "Let's get ya changed, too."

"I'm so fluffy! I feel like a Teddy Ruxpin."

"Your hearing far exceeds my own. Is that Peter's heartbeat I hear?"

"You're even more nimble than I, Rocket. I'm impressed."

"I'm just glad to have legs."

"Hey fuzz-faces," Rocket snapped. Four sets of identical brown eyes snapped to Rocket. "First question. Sight- better or worse?"

Peter scratched his ear. "Yeah. My vision in light is way better, but your dark vision is fantastic. Also, you're red colorblind. Just an FYI. As I started to change, my jacket stopped looking red and started looking this weird orangey-greenish-brown color that I can't place."

Rocket blinked. "Huh. Well, good to know, I guess."

"Your eyesight is better than mine, all-around," Drax said. "Although not by that much."

"Mine far exceeds yours," Gamora gruffed out, still clearly unused to a near-baritone pitch.

"It's… different," Groot remarked. "Far less variation in color, but more sharpness. I'm not sure if I'd say better or worse."

"And hearing?"

"It's deafening, how well I can hear," Gamora said. "Just hearing you speak is giving me a headache."

"Same," Peter said, swishing his tail.

"Agreed," Drax added. Groot just nodded.

Rocket frowned. "Well, we're not going to get to touch or smell if hearing is setting you all in overdrive," he said, far more quietly. "Lets sit in a circle and just listen to the ship for a bit."

"Meditate?" Gamora asked.

"Whatever ya wanna call it, Rocket replied. "But you should probably get used t' it."

"Shhh… jus' listen," Rocket said, flicking Peter in the back of his fluffy head as the other three Rocket-clones sat cross-legged (Gamora), on their knees (Groot), or on their haunches like an animal (Drax).

"This is…" Peter started. "I feel kinda stupid."

"Jus' try it," Rocket replied. Peter tried making himself comfortable, and then followed Rocket's lead of curling up on the floor, ears perked.

Peter breathed in and out slowly. He was terrible at meditating, and didn't really think Rocket the type. But as he settled into the quiet, his headache lessened as he focused on the tiniest of sounds around him.

Rocket flicked his eyes between his new wards. Groot and Gamora quickly realized their posture did not work in their new form, adjusting. Peter and Drax were still, but neither moved their ears. When Gamora and Groot finally settled in, Rocket spoke up.

"So, what can everyone hear?"

"Heartbeat," Drax said. "Everyone's."

"A hissing noise," Groot piped up.

"From where?" Rocket asked.

"I don't know."

"You can turn your ears, Groot. Tilt them, and figure out where it's coming from."

Groot focused, turning his ears slowly, and then pointed towards the galley. "There."

"Nice. That's the cooling tubes in the cold storage unit."

"I can hear this weird clinking noise," Peter added. "It's coming from the back of the cargo bay I think."

"Hah. That's the FTL drive in cooldown."

"Jeez, I can't believe I can hear that."

Rocket had them sit like this for another hour, eyes closed, until the four of them had a mental picture of the ship and its quirks.

"I think it's time for food," Rocket said, after a while.

"Yeah, I'm, like, really hungry," Peter piped up. "More than I thought I'd be."

"Well, are you ready for some sensory overload? Because I'm going to teach you about my best weapon. Other than my brain, of course," Rocket said, tail swishing happily as he pointed to his head. Rocket skittered towards the galley on all fours, and jumped up to the work surface, then again to the cupboard and pulled out some small dishes. He filled five with water, and passed them down to Gamora who followed him below.

Rocket then nimbly jumped to the cold storage, and pulled out a bag of blackfruit, cutting it into wedges with lightning speed, passing a large plate of the fruit sections down to Groot.

"Table really isn't our height, let's jus' eat on the floor. N I don't want ya falln' over from oversensitivity, anyway," Rocket added.

"You think it would be that bad?" Drax asked, eyeing the fruit.

"If bein' Peter was anythin' to go by, prolly. Go 'head everyone. Pick up a slice. Examine it with yer hands."

"It's almost like I can taste it." Gamora scrunched her muzzle into a half-frown.

"Yeah, this is just as weird as when I pulled my shirt over my head," Peter commented, whiskers twitching.

"Yeah, well, wait 'till ya dip your hands in water, first." Rocket held out a paw. "Tiny whiskers on your hands, like the ones around yer nose, and they get better when they're wet."

Peter pulled a dish towards him, dipping in his fingers and flicking away the excess, before picking up his slice of fruit again.

"HOLY MOTHER OF ODIN," he shouted, dropping the fruit back on the floor and shaking out his hand like it was on fire. Slowly, he poked the fruit with a finger, eventually gripping it again. "That is freaky-ass shit right there."

Rocket shook his head. "Now you know how I feel as you. You're numb all over."

"This is going to take some getting used to," Groot creaked out, shaking his paw violently, spraying water all over his jumpsuit, identical to the ones Rocket wore but in a mossy shade of green.

"I… think I have had enough for now," Gamora added, as she jumped back away from her own dish of water, immediately regretting the decision of sticking her hand inside.

"S'all right, ya lasted way longer than I 'spected ya to," Rocket replied, gathering up the fruit sections and shoving one in his mouth. "Jus' bug me if yah wan' more practice," he added, swallowing the piece of fruit down whole. Peter tottered back to his bunk on too-short legs, and Gamora and Groot headed down to the cargo bay to help Groot out of his suit and back into his pot, Gamora carrying her oversized bundle of regular clothing in one hand, and leaning heavily into the side of the ship with the other forearm.

Drax remained on his haunches near Rocket, tail twitching lightly.

"Ya ain't goin?"

"I am also quite famished, Rocket. And I thought I ought to challenge myself until it stopped feeling as though my heart is going to burst forth from my chest cavity. If it is too much to bear, I will go as well." Drax reached out with a paw towards Rocket's crown of fur, and Rocket scooted a little closer, pushing a dish of water between them and dunked his paws, grabbing another slice of fruit.

"Somehow, this tastes so much sweeter," Drax commented, as Peter rounded back from his bunk, back to full size, hesitating a moment before patting both of them on the head.

"I'm cleaning the ship. If the vacuum noise is too loud, holler," Peter said.

"Clean…?" Rocket mumbled, before realizing that Peter had probably realized that wherever Rocket walked, he could practically taste the floor.

Yeah. Rocket could work with this.

Well, most of the time. When Gamora eventually learned how to climb in near darkness and jump on them from above, Rocket wasn't too happy. Mostly because he'd wished he had thought of it first.