"Sheish man, how long you really gonna keep this up?" Rocket grunted, looking at Peter in awe, as Peter stepped out of the head, washcloth around his waist as he shook water from his fur. Two weeks straight, Peter had stayed as Rocket, as he tried to see the limits of their power.
Peter shrugged. "Figured I'd cover our bases, and I'm not asking anyone else to experiment. Hey, can you cook me up something to wear? Everything's in the wash."
"Am I going to need t' make full wardrobes for everybody?" Rocket asked. "We don't have infinite storage space, y'know."
"Yeah, but I'm also not going to wear the same three things until they smell like crap."
"I don't sweat, 'cept from my paws, that really shouldn't be a problem 'less you're gettin' greasy doin' repairs."
"Musk, why do you think I'm bathing every day? You don't smell this bad."
"Wait, that's YOU?" Rocket said, startled. "I thought it was Drax. Or, I effing HOPED it was Drax."
"Why, is that a problem?" Peter asked, worried.
"Problem? Not x'actly. Awkward as hell, though. Fact that you've been bathing instead 'a groomin' yourself been throwin' me off. Gimmie a mo'," Rocket said, sniffing the air, before getting within a centimeter of the side of Peter's fuzzy face and taking a whiff.
"Am I sick?" Peter asked.
"More like lovesick," Rocket replied. "You're effing rutting."
"I'm what?"
Rocket smacked his face with his paw. "I don't get all hot under the collar like ya do, Star-Dork. I don't even care about- ahem- personal needs most a' the time," Rocket added, visibly embarrassed about discussing his intimate life- or lack thereof. "Every couple a' months, though… my, uh, body start's thinkin' fore my mind does. You're hitting my matin' cycle, ya dumbass. Go turn back into a humy already."
"Eh," Peter said shrugging, "I'll just go back to my room and-"
"GODS DAMN IT QUILL, NO."
"But when I was Gamora-"
"When you were me, what?" Gamora questioned, entering the hallway, arms crossed over her chest. "I'm curious."
"FUCK!" Quill screamed, throwing his hands in the air, dropping the towel as he fled to somewhere, anywhere else on the ship, dripping water and skittering down the hall on all fours.
"Uh," Peter said at dinner, awkwardly fiddling with the hem on his shirt, now back to his old self. "So, um. I learned a few things today."
"Personal dignity?" Drax asked.
"Respect for your crewmates?" Gamora added sarcastically, flicking Peter's ear.
"Alien biology?" piped in a smirking Rocket.
"I am Groot?" Groot asked, now about Rocket's size, hugging Rocket in a booster chair and messing with his fur. Rocket only slightly protested.
"Well, yes, all those things."
"So ya are a loser wit' no impulse control," Rocket smirked. "Good t' have that on file."
"Groot, is that actually what you said?" Peter asked in mock accusation. Groot nodded energetically.
"All right, look, I'll come clean," Rocket said, looking down, his ears folding over in embarrassment. "I don' get urges like ya humys do 'cept in a rut. So, uh, yeah, when I was Peter, I uh…"
"I am Groot."
"Hey, I know they're just bodily functions, but it's personal!" Rocket protested.
"I am Groot."
Rocket looked like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide somewhere far away.
"Let's just get this out in the air. Who is offended if their body is explored by someone else? Hands up," Gamora asked sternly.
No one raised their hands.
"I'm already a slut, I've got nothing to say without being a hypocrite," Peter replied, shrugging. "Plus, it's not me. I'm not going to stop someone else from doing something."
"Eh, fuck it," Rocket replied, before realizing his entendre.
"Okay. Good. Who here has? By themselves or with someone else?" Gamora added.
Peter and Rocket embarrassingly raised their hands, and looked to their left and right. Both Drax and Gamora also lifted their hands from their places.
"Are we done with this?" Gamora asked, sighing. "All of us are adults. What someone else does with their body is none of my business unless they make it my business. Good?"
Peter blinked, stunned.
"Well, then, Peter, what have you learned?" Gamora asked, turning back to Peter.
"Okay, one, we get all bodily functions. Which means if we are Gamora, we might get a period. If anyone has some weird anatomical things that are a problem, might want to just say it now."
"Yes, I get periods," Gamora said. "About ten times per Xandarian year. Usually lasts three days, sometimes four. Not much other than bleeding, I do not get mood swings like Xandarian or Krylonian women."
"I rut," Rocket grunted, still embarrassed. "Two or three times per Xandarian year. Lasts about two weeks straight. Shouldn't affect ya too much, but…"
"As do I," Drax added. "About once or twice a year. My honest suggestion is to immediately change back if you can. I know how to handle it; you will not. The hormone levels in my system I can handle as an adult, but teenagers of my people are frighteningly violent until they are used to it."
"I am Groot," Groot added, looking back and forth at the table, before holding up a finger and toddling back to the cabins.
"He'd rather explain himself," Rocket translated. "He also said start eating. There was something we've both been wanting to try."
"What would that be?"
"Ya know how Peter's turned into Groot as both an adult and a child?"
"If you're suggesting that we can turn into ourselves as kids, or just younger, nope. Tried it, didn't work," Peter replied. "Other than Groot, I mean. Maybe it's his biology?"
"Groot can't turn into his adult self," Rocket commented, brandishing his spork. "He would'a done that a long time ago if he could. But he turned in'ta me."
"You? As a child?" Drax said, puzzled.
"Yeah, how? I couldn't," Peter replied.
"'Cause ya didn't know exactly what I looked like," Rocket replied. "We can't turn into other versions of ourselves, seems like, but we can be each other from any point on our timeline t' date. I've been Groot at all stages a' maturity 'cept old age. I can't turn inta him past where he's been."
"Why have you not spoken up before?" Drax asked, curiously.
"We've been waitin' till we had a decent theory as t' what was goin' on, or I'd've said somethin' sooner. Groot just turned inta me as a kid this mornin'. I swiped my files 'fore I fled Halfworld, and after Groot saw 'em he could turn inta me, even me from… before. His mind's still innit, but he can't talk or anything. But, on the plus side, they did so much work on me that Groot didn't trip the bio-database when we fingerprinted or retina scanned 'im."
"So what is Groot doing down there?"
"We asked Yondu for a holo or two of ya as a kid. If he sent 'em, he's gonna try bein' ya."
"No response yet, Rocket," came Rocket's voice from the stairwell, as Groot bounded up and squirmed back in the bench seat next to Rocket, twin fuzzy faces starting out at the rest of the group. "But I suspect it would work. I'm guessing the other thing Peter learned from his stunt is that we don't seem to have a time limit, do we?"
"If we do have one, it's more than two weeks," Peter replied.
"I wonder if we stayed as each other for long periods- very long periods- if we would age," Groot pondered thoughtfully.
"Ourselves, or whomever we became?" asked Gamora. "If we didn't…"
"We would be functionally immortal," Drax finished. "Or if we did age, if we could just turn into someone else, younger. We can switch between without becoming ourselves first."
"I am already functionally immortal," Groot interjected.
Rocket growled.
"To a point," he added, giving Rocket a light squeeze.
"Speaking of," Gamora said. "Peter and Rocket have already tried turning into you a few times. Would you mind teaching us?"
"I'm happy to, but I'm going to have to do it one at a time. And none of you will be able to speak, or comprehend my words."
"Yeah," Peter interjected. "I couldn't even say 'I am Groot'. Your throat is hard as a rock."
"Which is why I rarely talk. Our method of communication is a series of intertwined whistles by forcing air through small holes in our vines. The phrase itself is for everyone else's convenience to know I'm trying to speak. I emote what I can.
Anyway, I'm not sure I can effectively teach you how to speak, and only Rocket here can hear it, let alone understand. I suppose I could just talk you all through in someone else's form, or I can have Rocket translate and be myself. Either way, as both Rocket and Peter have discovered, my anatomy is the furthest from any of yours."
"Given the situation," Drax said thoughtfully, "it is probably best that you teach us how to breathe, how to grow thorns and protrusions, and how to release your light spores. I do not think concerning ourselves with how to fight as you or do anything too taxing will be in anyone's best interest. At least for now. I think we have all gotten quite used to being Gamora, Peter, and Rocket, but you are very different."
"I would agree," Gamora said. "Although four full sized Groots won't fit in the ship comfortably."
"I know of a few planets with no higher life that are well vegetated," Groot replied. "That would be a good place to train."
Groot, still in Rocket's form, twitched his tail lightly and waited at Drax's cabin door.
"Peter and Rocket changed and are outside, and I've just instructed Gamora on breathing, so she'll be out of the ship as soon as she has her bearings. You're last."
"I am ready as I will ever be," Drax replied, opening the door. He was naked, his clothes folded neatly on his bunk.
"Change into me," Groot commanded, gently. "I'll walk you through how to respire." Drax's skin hardened, his form stretched and flattened and thickened as he melted into Groot, panicking.
"You're going to loose your lungs, Drax. It's okay. You don't need them. You feel that buildup of gas? Push it out of your back."
A cloud of yellow pollen bombed the wall behind Drax, as he let out a large bubble of air.
"That's the equivalent of you holding your breath," Groot chided. "Don't feel like you breathe in and out. The air will move continuously. You've got this. Come on," he added, encouragingly.
Drax expelled another blast of pollen, smaller this time. Groot climbed Drax halfway, putting his face to Drax's exposed upper back.
"Good, just let it flow," he said, feeling a light breeze at his whiskers, pollen no longer puffing out. "How are you feeling?"
Drax raised a massive arm, slowly, making a wiggly noncommittal hand gesture.
"Better than Rocket the first time," Groot commented, beaming. "Take your time, okay? You hear through vibrations now, and all of your senses are mine- warped and different from a mammal's. Take stock of your surroundings, and when you're ready, leave the ship."
Groot took a small device from his pocket, securing it to Drax's wrist.
"It's a buzzer. If there's a problem, just press. Everyone's is a different sound so I can come right away. And don't hesitate to change back if you're overwhelmed."
Drax carefully arranged his giant fingers into a thumb's up, and Groot skittered out of the room.
The minute the door was shut behind him, Drax slumped against a wall, reeling. Being Peter and Gamora had been relatively easy, the skill came in being able to mimic them. Rocket had been hard, but Drax had gotten quite comfortable with the size, skill, and sensory imput, even the unbelievably precise sense of touch.
Groot was impossible. Even his sight was alien. Colors he'd never seen before, extreme clarity of some objects and near-pixilation of others. Drax sat breathing- respirating- as he slowly allowed the room he'd become familiar with coalesce around him.
Groot barreled out to Peter and Rocket, both towering over him outside. Rocket ticked away gingerly on Groot's data pad, holding it up when done.
'HOW LONG?'
"Three, maybe four hours I'd guess, we can practice growing spores while we wait. Both of them are slumped in the ship, Gamora in the galley and Drax in his room."
'HOW BAD?'
"They both look as if they've ingested psychedelics. Glazed over, sitting still, just trying to make sense of their surroundings. Similar to your reaction the first few times."
'YOUR EYESIGHT IS TRIPPY.'
"In comparison to yours, probably."
Peter snatched away the pad, fumbling with it with his now-oversized fingers.
'SERIOUSLY IMPRESSED. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU NOT GO INSANE AS US?'
Groot just shrugged. "As you've noticed, severe dysmorphia is part of my species. I grow and shrink, and regrow limbs at a rapid rate. Changing my perception on the world isn't that much of a stretch, really."
Peter simply shook his giant head, awaiting instruction.
"Everyone okay? More or less?" Groot asked, this time as Peter as the other four Guardians sat in the galley in varying states of disarray. Only Peter seemed decent, playing with one of the bioluminescent spores he'd managed to excrete as Groot. Then again, he had the most practice prior. Rocket was actually sitting in Gamora's lap, accepting head scratches as Gamora breathed deeply, eyes closed. Drax was curled into a corner wrapped in only a shock blanket- the best he could, given his size- hooked up to an emergency oxygen tank, a quiet rise and fall to his chest as he gained composure. He'd pushed himself just a bit too far, clumps of spores still stuck to his skin, glowing faintly
"How long do these last?" Peter asked, bouncing the puff off his fingertip.
"Two hours or so?" Groot replied, fixing warm cider and small bowls of plain yoghurt for the team, carefully passing out mugs and bowls to Peter and Gamora. Rocket slowly sat up and stretched; he was too exhausted to protest Groot spoon-feeding him. He couldn't even grasp a bowl without it almost sliding out of his fingers. Groot brought a mug and bowl over to Drax, tapping his shoulder lightly.
"Mph," Drax grunted.
"You should eat," Groot chided. "If I can make Rocket eat, I can make you, too. I have sugar, and protein."
Drax blinked, taking stock of his surroundings. "Maybe I should not have rushed so."
"I think everyone overdid it, Drax. Just give it time." Groot held out a mug, and Drax tried lifting his arms to accept. No luck, they felt like stone.
"Tip your head back, if you can. I had to feed Rocket more often than he is willing to admit, I promise I won't spill."
The galley was quiet that night, as the spores became dimmer, everyone drifting off to sleep.
Peter cracked an eye open, scanning. Rocket's purr-snore was to his left, and light breathing close by. Gamora. Grunting from the ground, Drax. Peter saw a blue haze beyond the divider curtain, and got up to look. Groot, still wearing Peter's face, was scrunched in concentration, setting up a holocall. Peter pressed his back from view, and watched as the call was answered.
"Whatcha need now, boy?"
"Hey, Rocket sent a request for any recordings you have of me as a kid."
Peter cracked a small grin. He couldn't see Groot's face, but the intonation was spot on.
"Yeah, and? Whatcha need it for?"
"I need to show them what I looked like as a kid."
"Party trick?" Yondu asked, eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," Groot replied after a beat of silence.
"I'll find somethin'. I know I have a few. How young we talkin'? Eight? Ten? Fifteen?"
"I'll take whatever you have, honestly."
"Oh, boy, did you see that vid I sent'cha? You and yours better watch your back. Buncha hardline Kree have put out a reward for capture. Big, biggest on you, smaller on the rest of ya. Not an official bounty, mind, none'a the governments would ever accept that as legal bounty after that stupid-ass stunt on Xandar, but, they'd pay out.
"Want to make it an inside job?" Peter finally said, stepping out of his corner."
"Ah, what the hell. You the rodent?"
"I'm Peter. You've been conversing with a tree."
"Well fuck me ten ways to Sunday. Good job, shrub," Yondu said, addressing Groot, before turning his attention back to Peter. "Inside job, huh? Whatcha got in mind, boy?"
"You, really rich. Us, taking down some radicals."
"I know youse gone soft, boy, but ya don't do charity. What's in it for ya?"
"Other than preventing being murdered a few months from now? Shipping them off to Nova for a stack of units, duh. You get the bounty for turning some of us in; we get those guys to Nova for a reward. Everyone wins. So how much is on each of us?"
"You, boy? 150,000. The rodent and Thanos's girl are 70,000 apiece. Muscles is 40,000. Guess they don't care 'bout him as much."
"What about Groot?"
"Nothin'. They probably don't know he regenerated."
"We can work with that. How would you like to make just shy of 300K?"
"My birthday is commin' up boy."
"Well, let me talk with my team. I have a vague idea of a plan, but I'd like to pass it by someone smarter than me."
"More or less than 12%?" Groot piped in.
Yondu laughed. "I like the shrub. Good idea keepin' 'im."