I've seen the movie three times now and it's so good! My brain rot latched on to the fac that Vol. 3 kept saying Rocket was Peter's best friend when, they weren't? They were a bunch of jackasses standing in a circle, they were all friends with each other, Groot and Rocket especially.

So then, I decided to write this to appease myself because now I do want to see more of them being besties instead of having constant ship measuring contests.

"That OrgoCorp ship we picked up hasn't shown much bounty yet," Kraglin said in disappointment as they tore it apart. "We probably caught it going out to pick up a delivery."

"So what are we to do with this?" Taserface asked, the hungry look in his eyes answer already. If he wasn't the most thickheaded crew member aboard, his hand and wrist would have been bitten off already from the only thing they'd yet found. Some kind of varmint that was screaming and twisting in place. It seemed to be making up cuss's on the spot as the claws and teeth tried desperately to be free from whatever fur wasn't singed or modified around its neck.

Yondu had half a mind to let it go and see what chaos it would cause aboard his ship, the little thing had spirit.

He might have some use for that.

"Go give it to Quill," he smirked.

Taserface grunted in disappointment, but went off still licking his lips. Probably in hopes there would be a dual appetizer in sight.

"You, ah, really think that's the best idea captain?" Kraglin scratched at his neck as the animal began articulating even more threats about what he'd do to all of them starting with their entrails. "Pete's still adjusting to being aboard himself."

"Exactly," Yondu shoved him aside and plucked a shiny bit of the cockpit's thoroughly dismantled rigging up to hold it in the light, wondering if its value was worth hocking or if he could shave off a few edges and put it on his dash. "Either the boy will eat it, or it'll eat him. Either way, they'll both stay out from under my feet for a bit while they figure it out."

...

Rocket had already stolen seven trinkets off his captor including the zipper from his pants by the time he was thrown bodily into a room.

The door slammed shut before he'd even peeled himself off the floor, but he jumped to his feet still mentally mapping his path here and how to get back to where they'd taken him in. He'd seen plenty of other ships and pods he could escape from, he would not be anybody's test subject again.

His eyes adjusted quickly, and he saw he was not their only captor.

Some bald body was huddled up in the corner, a weirdly pale looking creature that had noise vibrations coming from his ears as he glared resentfully right back at Rocket and kept something tight in his hands. Maybe his life pack. What did he care.

Still, he might be a threat, so Rocket began edging back to the door without taking his eyes off the ones tracking him. Then Rocket saw the blood.

It was all over the flappy, loose linen he was wrapped up in. The rest of his skin was mottled black and blue.

Rocket hesitated, but when the creature made no threatening move towards him, and he well knew that hurt, fearful look in those strange eyes that could lash out, he turned his back and began investigating the door.

It was no good, no lock, no seals, nothing.

He turned back and put his hands on his hips, trying to look bigger. Even all scrunched up, this creature was still bigger than him. He couldn't look weak now.

"Well, what's your name?" He barked.

"Hurts," the boy grunted.

Rocket felt it, the feeling he'd been trying to suppress since he'd laid eyes on him. His heart melting. He'd tried so hard to convince himself in that ship he wouldn't ever have to care about friends again, and yet that sounded far to familiar.

Then the kid plucked something out of his ear, the odd, low noise had just a little more garble to it now as it dangled in place and he gave Rocket another once over. "What? What did you say?"

Rocket sighed, picked up a bit of cloth on his way as he padded over, and began licking at it. As he got in arms reach, he slowly, gently leaned forward, and pressed it to the welt on his wrist.

The boy flinched, but didn't push him away. Tears began pooling in his eyes instead as he watched him just as wearily back. "Are you, real?"

"Sure am," Rocket assured. His ear ticked, he was watching the little dangly bit wondering if it was supposed to go back in.

"A talking racoon," he scoffed, but sniffled as Rocket licked at the cloth again and moved onto a dried bit of blood over a fresh, sensitive scab. "Space really does have everything."

"What's a racoon?" Rocket asked wearily, it didn't sound like he was being thanked.

"It's what you are, stupid," the boy snapped.

"Ain't nothing like me," Rocket bristled and pulled his cloth back, sitting down on the, on the floor, and, oh gods he would not cry. He was done crying.

"Yes you are," the kid insisted with a stubborn set to his lip. "Except, you talk."

"Thanks, genius, we've established that," Rocket scoffed. "What's your name," he asked again.

Silence, except the faint noise dulling off for a moment. Silence, and then it began again except somehow different. The boy took a breath, and said, "Peter Quill. Why did Yondu put you in here?"

"What's a Yondu?" Rocket asked back. "I was scooped up by a bunch of flargin jerks who dropped me in here."

"Oh," Peter sniffed and brushed his face off on his ratty clothes all these strange creatures here wore.

"Listen, I'm busting out of here," Rocket said with confidence. "When I do, you, you need to run for it too." Somewhere not with him though. Anywhere he wasn't.

"I got no where to go," Peter said dully. "Yondu said I had to start showing my worth or the crew was going to eat me. They'd been sending me out to steal stuff, but, I keep getting hurt. I guess you're my replacement." His voice went sharp, mean, lashing out. "Bet you'll be worse at it, the only thing you can steal is garbage!"

Rocket watched the color rise in his face, he knew that feeing all to well. Peter should get to rip Yondu's face off if he wanted to.

"What's that?" Rocket asked quietly of the thing Peter had been clutching as his lifeline this whole time.

Peter sniffled again and held it even tighter, there was an ominous cracking noise. Then he exhaled and coughed, and said, "it, it's mine. My mom gave it to me!" He sounded even younger without the bite in his voice.

"What's a mom?" Rocket asked.

Rocket watched the pain show on Peter's face, the kind that couldn't be covered up with bruises and scraps.

Peter didn't answer. Instead, he held out the little bud that had been in his ear.

Rocket took it and held it curiously closer, and finally heard the noise proper.

It was nothing like what had been on the High Revolutionary's ship. He didn't know how to explain the feeling it gave him, but he found himself smiling at Peter, who was smiling back cautiously.

Peter waited until it was over and the slight pause in the air before he asked quietly, "what's your name?"

Rocket didn't want to tell him. He had to be thinking of ways to get off this ship.

If he told him, Peter Quill would probably die too.

The music caught, and began playing an even stranger noise than before. He decided he liked this one even better than the last. He knew what feeling it gave him. Hope.

"Rocket," he answered, scooting a little closer.

and then they proceeded to cause Yondu nothing but chaos until they departed in Vol. 1, lol.

If I come up with any concrete ideas I might add another chapter about Peter, Rocket, and Yondu actually bonding, something I've wondered about for years but never as anything more than vague ideas.