Rocket laid out what he had been able to salvage from the ship in the long green grass; a shot of adrenalin, disinfectant, a bottle of water, some parts of the ship Rocket had deemed useful and Peter's Walkman. Which he had discovered in the bag when he found it. Peter entering a coughing fit broke him out of his thoughts, shattering the silence.

"Steady." Rocket told him, doing his best to keep Peter still as he tipped the bottle of water towards his lips. Once over Peter lay back exhausted. "How much smoke did you breathe in?" Rocket asked, eyeing his friend with concern.

"To much." Peter could only wheeze in reply.

"Was your helmet broke or somethin'?"

Peter thought for a second. "No."

"Did you even think to activate it?"

"No, no I did not." Peter confessed, Rocket through his hands into the air, anger distorted his face.

"Forget Star-Munch, I'm just going to call you simply Idiot from now on."

"Fair enough." Peter sighed.

A ship suddenly flew over head coming into land nearby.

"They must had lost them." Rocket thought to the last time he saw his friend's, he remembered watching them running off into the unknown planet.

"Or killed them." Peter added.

"Your Mr Optimistic today." Rocket said taking hold of Peter's arm and wrenching him into an upright position. Rocket acted quickly, slapping his little hand over Peter's mouth to muffle his scream. "We need to go." Rocket Helped Peter as much as he could to his feet, leaving him leaning weakly against as tree he quickly plunged all the supplies back into the bag. Groot hopped on Rocket's shoulder, before all three of them slowly made their way deep into the undergrowth.

"How you doin' Humie ." Rocket watched Peter stumble from tree to tree, unable to walk on his own for longer than a few seconds. He kept one hand pressed against his wound, while the other balanced him on the various smooth barked trees.

"Just peachy." Peter replied resting his head on the latest tree.

"Here." Rocket took an almost empty bottle of water from the rucksack slung over his shoulder. Handing it to Peter as he watched the liquid move within, he took a sip then went to hand it back.

"Drink the rest, I'm sure I can hear a river up ahead, we can rest there." Peter savagely drank every last drop from the bottle before handing it back, Rocket couldn't help but notice the beads of sweat forming on his face. The temperature was quite pleasant, even with a fur coat Rocket wasn't breaking a sweat. Peter's oddly pale skin was a worry, as well as the haze that seemed to cover what was once he bright blue eyes.

Each step was no longer painful, even though Peter could still just feel his wound bleeding, his fingers now quickly becoming numb. Like his pale lifeless fingers Peter's legs where growing heavy, and the overwhelming sensation of exhaustion didn't allow him to walk in a straight line. Also the fact that the world around him never stopped spinning, and was never in focus wasn't helping. Peter had deduced early on, when his mind could still process a simple thought, that he had a concussion. He couldn't even feel the excessive amount of sweat dripping from his shivering body. If his cloths weren't already clinging to him due to being drenched in blood, the sweat would have soaked through his shirt by now. To add to the list of problems he was finding it hard to breath, taking in short hitched breaths. But like his wound, he felt no pain, his numb body constantly beckoning him to sleep. His eye lids felt like they where being held down each time he blinked. Stumbling in his boots around the uneven terrain he could hear Rocket nearby, Peter struggled to make out half the stuff he was saying.

Rocket watched as Peter, without any warning, dropped down onto his knees. He had put his hands out just in time to stop his face colliding with the floor.

"Quill, come on buddy, just a little further." Rocket begged, he could see the river peeking through the thick shrubbery. Rocket watched as Peter's shaking arms began to falter, he quickly got underneath him sitting him back on his heels. But each time Peter tried to get to his feet his legs gave out on him, without a tree nearby to help, he couldn't get up. "Come on Quill." Rocket encouraged but he watched his friend sway, his face again plunging towards the ground. But like before Rocket got under his chest preventing him from eating dirt. Rocket put one of Peter's arms round his shoulder, while Peter held half his weight with his other arm "Were almost there." Rocket informed, he then proceeded to help Peter crawl to the river. Soon it was in view, the clear steady blue water extremely inviting. Peter collapsed, Rocket could feel him no longer supporting himself. Unable to take the weight on his shoulders Rocket was forced to lower Peter to the ground. He pushed him onto his back to find his eyes closed. "Oi, don't give out on me yet idiot!"

"mm… No… I'm." Peter whispered, his eyes still closed. Rocket having no choice, with the help of Groot dragged Peter over the smooth stones till they reached the gentle river. Rocket now with access to clean water pulled out the empty water bottle from within the bag, along with the disinfectant. Digging right to the bottom he found a small t-shirt, way to small for Peter. Its was more suitable for a child. After filling the bottle Rocket observed Peter's face. It was white and covered in sweat, his body shivered violently. Only now realizing the symptoms, Rocket pulled back Peter's top to find the wound was obviously infected. The deep wound sported horrible red inflamed skin around the edges, an undesirable smell was beginning to waft from it.

"Fuck!" Rocket shouted, he quickly poured all the water he had collected from the river onto the wound. He watched Peter's eyes scrunch in discomfort but his face soon was restored to it's feverish state. Rocket ploughed back through the bag, looking for the disinfected he had already taken out.

"Where is it?!" Rocket almost screamed, as he dug ferociously through the rucksack pulling everything from it until his hands pulled out Peter's precious Walkman, he sat motionless, just staring at it. Rocket suddenly felt something prod his leg, Groot stood holding the bottle of disinfectant. "Thanks buddy." Rocket forced a smile for the young Groot as he took the bottle. Rocket pulled one of Peter's arms to the side before standing on it, he stared down at the wound. "This is gonna hurt." He warned a barley conscious Peter. Rocket yanked open the seal, pouring the contents directly on the wound. Peter's reaction was brutal, his body thrashed in pain knocking the bottle from Rocket's hand. He scrambled for it, as it began to pour its contents out onto the smooth stones. He could hear Peter whimpering in the background. Being careful with the disinfected Rocket passed it to Groot. Then he proceeded to tear the small blue shirt, so it was just one piece of fabric. After stretching it as much as he could, he took the disinfectant from Groot and poured just enough in the centre so there was some left, he then passed the bottle back to Groot. Making sure the disinfected part of the fabric lay over the wound, Rocket weaved the ends under Peter, wrapping it round once before tightening it firmly.

"Urh." Peter struggled to hold in his moan. "tha, was…ent tha ba…" Peter trailed off.

"Quill, you've gotta keep your eyes open." Rocket ordered tapping his friends gently on the face. The heat that generated from Peter's white cheeks was alarming. "Groot, help me move him." Rocket commanded, removing Peter's guns from there holsters, before tugging Peter closer to the river. Groot promptly was at his side, helping pull Peter into the water.

"I am Groot?"

"We've gotta get his temperature down." Rocket replied, holding Peter's bleeding head out the pleasant water. His top and wound already had began to taint the water around them red.

"No… NO!" Peter began to thrash around distressed.

"Calm down idiot, I've got you." Rocket comforted, as Groot climbed on his shoulder, out the shallow water.

"Where, where is…"

"Greenie and Drax will be here soon." Rocket replied still trying to keep optimistic about there unlikely return.

"No, where is…" Peter's throat and frazzled mind struggled to get his words together.

"Is?"

"Where's my Walkman, my tape?!" Peter finally managed to ask. Rocket couldn't help but chuckle, he glanced over to Peter's precious property. The Walkman sat safely next to the burnt rucksack, the headphones perched neatly on top.

"Safe on dry land." Rocket noticed himself smiling as he felt the water slip through his fur, his feet firmly on the smooth stones beneath the water.

Authors Notes

Yo all, glad you liked the longer chapter. So heres another, because I'm nice. Sometimes. Anyway, reviews are amazing they encourage me to write more, so keep them up. Hope you liked this chapter, see you guys soon.