“Rocket!” Drax’s booming voice was muffled by the vibrant electric shocks that wracked the raccoonoid’s body. He trembled, his small claws gripping boulder so hard it drove white flakey scratches down the side.
“Mmm fine!” Rocket called through gritted teeth, tediously reaching for his gun.
“Rocket!” Peter’s strangled voice cried from the fray, “we need fire power!” Another round of bullets sent Rocket wincing. Just need to fix... he gasped through the white-hot pain. Drax thudded beside him, panting as he loomed over him.
“Small friend! I saw you thrown!”
“You…you didn’t see nothin’!” Rocket snarled, fingers curling around his gun. He moved to withdraw it but gasped, arm spasming.
“I see you right in front of me,” Drax responded, brows knitting in that all too familiar confusion. Rocket struggled for breath as another pang transcended his back, the hardware in the panel of his spine sparking. The tattooed alien looked up as Gamora shouted something to Mantis and the Setmarian gang pressed forward, firing. He looked back down at Rocket with concern.
“Don’t look at me like that!” Rocket snapped, waiting for Drax to fling himself back into battle. Instead he bristled as a large hand came forward, taking his gun. He blinked through the pain, shaking his head as the Destroyer looked at the weapon with confusion. “Don’t b…break it you d…dumb a…ass!” Drax, deftly moved once more and Rocket gulped in surprise, too slow with the sharp pain to react when the Destroyer reached into his belt and withdrew the bullets.
“I am not breaking it, I am helping you.” He loaded the gun and handed it back to Rocket. He stumbled forward, making to grasp it but fell forward. Luckily Drax’s large arms caught him. “You are not fit to fight.” BOOM!
“Rocket, Drax! Damn it we need you!” Drax’s looked at him momentarily and reached out once more, this time to touch his head lightly, only to stop short.
“May I?” He asked tentatively. Rocket’s eyes narrowed, but wordlessly nodded.
“You do not need to conceal your pain in front of me my friend.” He affirmed, stooping low over the green rounds of plasma fire. “I know you will not believe me, but there is nothing you could do that would make me think less of you.” One finger rhythmically stroked through Rocket’s fur. The raccoonoid managed a weak nod.
He rode the waves of pain just as he always did, only this time Drax stayed with him.
“Drax, Rocket! Where the hell are you we need back up!” Rocket drew a deep breath, looking at the destroyer before picking up his gun.
“Ready?” Drax’s trademark battle enthused grin widened. Contagious, Rocket found himself smiling the rush of adrenaline overriding his dulling pain.
“Ready.” With new confidence, Rocket charged side by side with the destroyer, the two of them vaulting head on into the fight.