The more Cosmo talked about the things she had seen inside Rocket's head, the more apparent it became that the pair's current animosity had been an inevitability from the start. It was more than just a violation of personal space (and Rocket had enough issues with that to begin with), Quill himself felt like he was stepping in on something he shouldn't, and he was getting all of his information second hand.

"Da, da, I know!" Cosmo whined. "It's rude. I should respect privacy better!" Seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was contradicting herself by replying to his thoughts, Cosmo went on. "Look, I was not born telepath- how I can do what I can do is whole other story and not one Cosmo knows details of, so don't ask. But sometimes, it is hard to look away even if I want to!"

Drax opened his mouth, presumably to argue, but Cosmo cut him off. "I was curious! Galaxy is not exactly full of unique, small, furry, talking things and I wanted to know more about him." She turned to Gamora. "And no, I did not look at any of your memories. Bibroaclite was many years ago, Cosmo knows better now and resists temptation."

Apparently not better enough to know that looking into anyone's thoughts was-

"I know it's rude! But I can't do talking without seeing. Is like posting letter- Cosmo must see postbox first." The labrador sighed. "Anyways, back to how I meet 89P13. Where was I?"

"Rocket just asked for your milk carton," Quill replied- although it was hard to picture the raccoon asking permission for anything. The Rocket he knew would have just swiped the thing.

"He was probably going to take it anyways, but he wanted to know if I'd let him. I did. And then a few guards came to drag him off to solitary confinement."

Rocket returned from solitary confinement (knocking out a guard, stealing their radio, instigating a fight and knocking out two prisoners came with repercussions, who knew?) humming a made-up tune and sporting a bloody nose.

"Your bean bag's back, mutt," the guard escorting him grunted, tossing the raccoon into the cell with palpable hatred.

Rocket's mood soured instantly. "If that scut leaves the sector I'm gonna blow a hole the size of a sombatter in your face. A big sombatter."

Cosmo had the grace to look ashamed. "I was just trying to help."

"Next time, don't. I don't need your help and I don't want it either. Especially if your idea of helping is to sit on all your problems. Look away."

"What?"

"I said, look away," Rocket growled. "I'm gonna take my shirt off and I don't want you looking, so turn around and face the wall."

Remembering the horrific mechanical components she'd seen in his memories and having no inclination to see them again, Cosmo did as she was bid.

"The suppressor's Kree tech, mostly used to stop Skrulls from shapeshifting. Any kind of excessive mentations causes it to fire up." You'd think probing my brain would count as excessive, wouldn't you? "Super easy to bust, all I have to do is rewire the circuitry so the charge goes back into the battery, and all I need for that is a wire. You can turn around now."

Sure enough he was dangling a wire between two claws, and looking incredibly pleased with himself. "Like I said, get them mad enough, they don't notice you've nabbed something until it's too late and they never think to check the cybernetics."

"You're amazing!"

"Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot." His thoughts told a different story but Cosmo knew better than to say that out loud. Visibly delighted by the compliment and utterly failing at hiding the fact, Rocket stepped forwards. "Here, let's get the bug off."

Cosmo's tail repeatedly whacked the ground in delight as Rocket busied himself with the wire. It took all the self-control in the world to stop herself from licking his face in gratitude.

"There's likely some sorta tracer on it so it won't take too long for the guards to know it's busted. Once you've fried it we won't have much time to lie around. They usually keep the spaceport somewhere near their employees so I'm gonna head to the barracks next. I ain't coming back for you and I ain't holding your paw so if you want with you'll have to keep up."

"Sounds good to Cosmo!"

Rocket grunted, presumably in approval, and stepped backwards to admire his handiwork. "Okay, all set, now you've just got to activate it. Try and move something. Or do complex mathematics, I dunno whatever counts as excessive for you."

Cosmo gave the cell door a look. The collar sparked, there came an audible 'pop' followed by a fizzle of smoke as the tick fell down dead and the bars crumpled in on each other in an instant.

What the hell? Rocket shrugged in an attempt to look unimpressed. "I was gonna use the suppressor to blow the wall open but I guess that works too." Note to self, do not get on the dog's bad side.

"The dog has name," Cosmo teased, padding out into the hallway.

"Note to self, do not get on Cosmo's bad side," the raccoon grumbled. "Happy now?"

"Incredibly!"

"Yeah well we don't have time for that now," he sniffed at the air, easily catching the guard's scent. He should really wear less deodorant.

"I thought the same thing too!"

Rocket's ear gave an irritable twitch. Never gonna get used to that. "Good for us though, makes him easy to track. Barracks should be that way."

The guard never stood a chance. Even if he had seen them coming he would have been no match for Cosmo's telekinesis; the element of surprise was overkill. So was dropping a lamp on him, wrapping him up in wire, gagging him with his boot and locking him in a cubicle but Rocket liked overkill.

At present, the raccoon was humming to himself and happily tapping away at a screen. "Bibroaclite is a private prison," he explained. "The chumps who own this dump make money off of us staying here which means there's usually a bigger incentive to bring us back if we get out. They've got limited jurisdiction though, so they can't do anything to you if you make it out of the quadrant. To make things easier for us I'm setting up a little distraction."

"You are completely overriding the security system," Cosmo cocked her head to the side. "Isn't that a bit excessive?"

Rocket shrugged and failed to hold back a nasty little grin. He really did like his overkill. "It should buy us a decent headstart. Alright- three, two, one!"

The pair flinched from the resounding tumult of a hundred alarms screaming into existence all at once. It was immediately followed by a cacophony of wild cheering (from the prisoners) and the stomping of dozens of heavy boots as guards rushed out to try and put out the fire.

"And go time! Spaceport's that ways. You should grab a ship an' remember, keep flyin' till you get outta the quadrant."

"What about you?"

"I'm getting my stuff first." Rocket replied, as if it was obvious. "They're gonna need all the hands they can get to keep the others from getting out so impound won't be guarded." He stole a glance round the corner and rushed downwards when he saw that the coast was clear.

Cosmo did not even think twice before following. "You have important object not to be left behind?"

The flark? Rocket paused. "Let me repeat myself. I'm getting my stuff. You're free to go."

"But Cosmo wants to stay."

The raccoon opened and shut his mouth, a dozen half-formed sentences scrambling through his mind. Thanks? What the hell? Why? Are you stupid? Get lost, I don't need a pet. Before he had formed a reply the two were forced to press themselves flat against the wall as a dozen guards rushed past. Thankfully none of them thought to look down.

Once they had stormed out of earshot, the raccoon settled on the relatively neutral 'Why?'

"Because I thought we were comrades?"

"I don't even know what that means!" Rocket protested. "Look, we had a deal and you kept your mouth shut and in return I dealt with your suppressor. We're even."

"That's not what comrade-"

"I don't care what it means!" he snapped. "Get lost Cosmo, you're not gonna have another chance at this!" The raccoon tucked into a roll to clear the next hallway.

"I don't know how to fly ship!"

Rocket blinked and turned to stare at her in pure disbelief. A few minutes later, he recovered enough to sigh. "C'mon, we've wasted enough time already."

Like everything else in Bibroaclite, the impound was cold. A machine whirred, sifting through the various crates in search of the one Rocket had asked for. There were nearly two dozen cameras scattered across the room, but no guards in sight- no doubt they were preoccupied trying to nab all the other inmates.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Rocket grumbled, impatiently tapping his foot. Besides him, Cosmo scratched at an ear.

"You never answered my question."

The raccoon scowled. What question? "Remind me-"

"What is so important that you go back for it?"

Regret. The raccoon's thoughts floated to a thin piece of metal shaped somewhat like a playing card. He shrugged. "Mostly just clothes. You have any idea how hard it is to get things my size?"

"I imagine it'd be pretty hard." Zafersly strolled in, casually twirling a blaster with one hand. The bug had already swapped out of his prison uniform and into more regular clothes. Clearly he'd been there for some time. "Most rats don't wear anything."

Before Rocket could react, the gun stopped twirling and fired off a ball of electricity that missed the raccoon by a mile… and caught Cosmo square in the face.

"Damnit! How the hell did I miss that!?"

"You're a lousy shot," Rocket shrugged, glancing over at the twitching labrador to make sure they were alright.

"Big mouth for something so small," Bigby grunted, coming in from another doorway and cracking his granite knuckles. "Figured you were behind the security crash. Didn't think we'd be lucky to run into you here, but I guess it's our lucky day."

"Hey c'mon guys, that stuff in the messroom was just a bit of fun," Rocket forced himself to chuckle. "Been on the recieving end of a few of those myself yanno."

"Must have been a pretty lousy joke, coz I don't hear us laughing."

"I needed a way into solitary so I could nab a wire!" the raccoon explained. "It was part of my escape plan! A-an' I figured since I sorta knew you guys-"

"You blew up a fire hydrant in my face. We're long past excuses, rat."

"Did you really think you could walk away from a fight with us?"

The machine whirled to a stop. There came an audible 'bing' as Rocket was finally presented with his crate. "Yeah actually, I did."

Zafersly fired a pair of shots at the raccoon- each one flew harmlessly past him because Rocket was right and he was a really lousy shot. Snatching up a few pieces of seemingly random junk from his trunk, Rocket dived out of the way of Bigby's fist as it dented the ground. He scrambled for cover, his paws working frantically to connect the various components of something that looked suspiciously like a Triklabite flamethrower (banned in all major systems). He made to dive under a shelf when cold, hard rock closed over his leg.

There was a horrifying crunch followed by Rocket's scream.

"You thought wrong," Bigby leered, dragging the raccoon out into the open and slamming him into the ground with extreme prejudice.

Snarling through the pain, Rocket raised his haphazard device and pointed the nozzle at his opponent. "Eat this!" Sure enough, white hot flames spewed forth, eliciting a scream of pain from the kronan and forcing them to back off.

By now Cosmo had finally managed to throw off the electric current and turned her attention to the bug currently adjusting his blaster. Too late, he noticed her growling at him.

Zafersly scoffed, and without even pausing to think, turned the blaster on her and fired. He'd actually been aiming for her this time so the shot missed spectacularly.

"My turn!"

"What the f-" The rest of his sentence was cut short by the pair of impound crates that promptly flew into him.

Cosmo next turned her attention to where Rocket's flamethrower was beginning to sputter out.

"You're dead!" roared Bigby. The rocks that formed his face hadn't melted exactly, but had liquidised enough to give his features a horrifyingly unnatural twist.

The raccoon screwed his eyes shut and braced for an impact that never came.

"What the hell!?"

"As general rule telekinesis is easier applied to inanimate object, but only living part of kronan is head of kronan." Cosmo explained, as Bigby, fist raised and frozen solid, bore great resemblance to some kind of war memorial. "Da svidania, mudak."

Bigby was sent hurtling into the wall hard enough to form a Bigby-shaped dent in it. Before he could recover, what looked like every crate in impound came hurtling towards him.

"Would have been nice if you'd done that earlier," Rocket grumbled.

Cosmo padded to his side. "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy!" he hissed irritably. Dumbass. "My leg's busted, in case you haven't noticed."

"Cosmo did notice! That is why I ask."

For the third time that day, Rocket stared at her in disbelief. "How can someone with a busted leg be okay!?"

A long silence followed, in which Cosmo failed to think of a reply. At long last, she decided it was a lost cause and turned away. "Forget it, I will just fetch medpack!"

"NO!"

The blatant panic in his voice brought her to an immediate halt. She gave him an inquisitive look. "Why not?"

"Th-there's no time," he winced in pain, and forced himself to stand while Cosmo looked on with a mixture of admiration and horror. The latter must have been more apparent on her features because his tone became placating. "I'll fix it later, okay? Walked away from worse." The raccoon forced himself to grin even as his every thought became one of pain. In an effort to prove the truth of his words, Rocket took a brave step forwards.

SNAP!

"Well that's not good," he mumbled, face pale as he fell sideways.

Rocket woke with a start a few hours later, a loose seatbelt strapping him to a chair, before him lay the wide expanse of space. "Huh?"

"You're awake!" Cosmo padded over. "Cosmo was beginning to worry!"

He took in the blanket draped over him, the impound crate housing his meagre possessions that lay untouched at his feet, and the thick layer of bandages wrapped around his leg… which no longer hurt. What the flark…?

"I know is stupid question, but are you okay?"

"You got to a ship." Rocket ignored her, his eyes narrowing as the controls seemed to move on their own. "How're we flying?"

"Nyet clue!" the labrador replied, far too quickly. "Maybe advanced autopilot?" Cosmo suggested.

"You can lie better than that," Rocket frowned at her, and crossed his arms over his chest. "At least, you did before."

The labrador shuffled awkwardly. "Okay, so maybe I can fly certain type of ship if conditions are good and-"

"You lied," he cut her off, though his tone wasn't accusatory. "Why?"

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but Cosmo resisted the urge to steal a glance. Sometimes it was better not to know what someone was thinking. "I didn't want to go on my own and I didn't want to leave you."

"Why?" he repeated, sounding more confused than anything else.

"Because… you're nice."

Rocket raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly have I done in these last few hours to make you think that?"

"You free me from unlawful confinement?"

The raccoon remained unimpressed.

"And you're… like me." She hurried on before he could point out that he wasn't a dog. "How many talking animals do you know?"

"I ain't an animal," Rocket snapped, but there was no bite in it. He winced as Cosmo tightened a loose fold on his leg wrap.

"But you are comrade!"

"I still don't know what that word means," he grumbled. Sliding off the chair with extreme caution so as not to agitate his leg, Rocket dug through his crate of meager possessions.

"Do you want to?"

"Sure," he shrugged, pulling out the card she'd seen in his mind.

"It means friend."

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence after that.

Cosmo forced herself to stay out of the raccoon's mind as complex emotion thundered within. Even so, she caught snatches of thought as they leaked out of him. No. She saved your life. You'll screw it up. She could have just left you behind. You don't deserve...

An eternity later, Rocket sighed, gave the card a spin and pocketed it. "Cosmo?" His voice was small, nothing at all like the thunderous bravado Cosmo had come to expect from him.

"Da?"

"Thanks." He cleared his throat awkwardly, and it was apparent that he was not at all used to having these kinds of conversations. "You're... not bad."

Tail thumping happily against the ground, Cosmo turned towards the stars. And perhaps for the first time in her life, she felt something warm.

Footnote: Another short chapter, and another 'early' update. And I say 'short' but this is still about three thousand or so words- really it's only 'short' because originally it was a lot longer. A bunch of stuff ended up getting shifted to the next Dog Day (which is why this chapter has a suspicious lack of those er- memories inside memories I promised... it does have a prison break though so I guess I'm not *entirely* guilty of false-advertising :P

And so, Rocket and Cosmo have become comrades... of sorts. Mostly because Cosmo gets attached easily and Rocket isn't in a position where he can run away from her and doesn't completely want to. It's a complicated headspace for him because on the one hand he does want friends- that's pretty much all Rocket as I write him really wants- but on the other he's more or less given up on ever having any of those at this point in the timeline.

Next week, we head back to the main plot as the Guardians arrive on Tharvis K-8. Stay tuned for Mission Report Part II