#when I was watching a video about colossus' healing that comment made me wonder...

[ms--galactic]

???

BONUS:

Silly Metal Man + sparklies Whiteboard doodle from memory 👀

I really hope we get to see more COLosSUS iN deADpOOL 3

[trashpandaorigins]

And If You Don’t Love Me Now Ch. 1

Sequel to "Sweet Child of Mine." A few years after the events of GOTGVol 2. Groot is now an adolescent, Rocket and the rest of the team must try to navigate all the high emotions that come with it. Old wounds of grief have not yet closed, friendships are fragile and there's always a galaxy to guard amid it all.

*Warning for language and graphic depictions of gore and violence. Tone of this fic is meant to be more mature and gritty then SCoM. Comments/feedback always greatly appreciated* 💜💜

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Burning, burning, burning in its skull, its brain slowly melting itself in a futile attempt to combat the infection. Vision swims, the bars of its cage no longer hold shape or form. The metal in its back festers, flesh broken, dried blood and pus seep up and leak. It shivers, it can’t remove the metal plating. Not since the strange people in the strange masks pulled out its nails. It lays on the ground, each breath agony. Inhale-stabbing prick against its lungs-inhale, stop because it is too painful, inhale. It shakes, it lifts its head and vomits wet white bile. Wet like the coils of intestine it spotted in the gloved hand of the strange person in the strange mask. It wondered what that viscus pink-red coil was and traced it from the gloves, around the instruments and finally saw it was attached inside of it to the rest of its innards. It blinked, and blacked out. It awoke with more cybernetics. It has felt this numb burning ever since. It felt its bowls let loose but did not have the strength to move away. It lay in its waste, shivering. Bones aching, muscles tender.

“I am Groot,” it cannot respond. Its mouth is dry, acid from its vomit cackling its throat. Something small and glowing drifts in the distance but it cannot reach out to grab it. Then another, and another, the small specs of light surround it. It shivers, feeling the dim warmth. It is so cold all around, freezing but the ith glossy eyes. It hears the movement of wood and smells leaves. “I am Groot,” the spores gather around it, it focusses, it’s lips form into a smile at the little lights. They lull it into the first good sleep it can remember. Lying sickly in that cage, nearer to death than he knew, those spores coaxed Rocket’s remaining strength and encouraged him to heal. Those spores, Rocket loved them.

– – –

“Groot!” Rocket glared up at the millions of little yellow spores, intermingled with leaves that were strewn across their shared quarters. “You need to clean this shit up!” The raccoonoid swiped across his work bench, sending the little spores drifting away to settle on the floor. That damn tree is getting his disgusting…. spores all over my crap! He picked up his wrenches, tweezers and screws grimacing at the yellow dots that covered them and cursing, began to pluck them off one by one. “Groot! You get your flarking ass down here now and clean up this shit!” More of the dots bounced around as Groot’s footsteps came near. Rocket turned to face the adolescent Flora colossus who stormed in, eyes hard.

“I am Groot?” He sighed impatiently.

“Clean up this junk! How many times do we gotta tell yah?” Groot only rolled his eyes.

“I mean it! It’s all over my stuff, it’s all over everywhere!” Groot sneered turning to leave. Rocket’s fur bristled,

“Don’t turn your back on me you hunk of bark, clean up your kurtacken shit!” The rage built inside him, how dare Groot ignore him?

“I am Groot!” Groot waved Rocket away with his arm and left, lumbering down the hall.

“No YOU shut up!” The raccoonoid hollered back, dashing after him. Groot walked just fast enough that Rocket could not keep up, chasing him around the corner and up the stairs of the winding corridors of the Milano.

“Groot! I can’t build my guns if you got your leaves and spores everywhere! Your behavior has gotten really lousy you little…” Drax stepped out of his room shortly, causing Rocket to slam into Groot’s leg. Groot stamped him off hurridly.

“What is the matter here?” Drax demanded, looking between the two of them. “Groot huffed, shaking his head and pushed past Drax.

“Your tree child is becoming quite quarrelsome. I liked him better when he was small.” Rocket curled his fists, sparing Drax a glance.

“He ain’t my…forget it.”

Drax followed Rocket as Rocket followed Groot. The adolescent ignored the two of them and made no stops until he slouched down in his chair in the cockpit.

“What’s up guys?” Quill asked, turning around in his seat to face Groot.

“I am Groot,” Groot complained. Peter frowned,

“How is Rocket being stupid?”

“I ain’t being stupid,” Rocket shouted, taking his own seat beside Kraglin, who knew better then to interfere.

“Groot don’t call people stupid,” Gamora did not look up from where she tapped the navigation controls. Groot only rolled his eyes.

“What seems to be the matter here?” Mantis timidly stepped in, hands wringing together as she eyed them each nervously.

“Nothing!” Rocket bit back a snarl, glaring at Groot. “The tree’s just being an irresponsible kid and not cleaning up his mess!”

“You never clean up your mess,” Drax said through a mouthful of L’ttian fruit. “Why just this morning I stuck my foot on one of your contraptions in the hallway.” Rocket smoldered, rolling his eyes and looked across at Groot with contempt. Privately he searched for any sign in those eyes, of his old friend. Anything. But Groot only fixed him with a vile cutting look.

Rocket cringed feeling that black gaze slice through him.

“Sooo, captain,” Kraglin dared after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, “any new jobs for us?”

“Good question,” Peter turned back ahead, looking out onto the black expanse of the galaxy. “Some noble woman on Eraqu is offering 300,000 units to anyone who can return her stolen fradn diamond necke.”

“Aren’t we the ones who do the stealing?” Rocket quipped. Peter shrugged.

“How about carrying cargo for a Opin Lord?”

“I am Groot!”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rocket shrugged off.

“How much are they offering?” Gamora inquired.

“Twice as much as that noble lady, but it’s three times as risky. Every ravager, kree and skrull ship is gonna be after this metal she’s asking us to carry.”

“I like the sound of 60,000,00 units,” Drax leaned against Quill’s chair. “Let us go to….where are we going?”

“She’s based on Contraxia,” Gamora answered. “ and according to the transmission needs her goods taken from there to Gravior in the 10 quadrant.” It was decided by a show of hands that they would go to the grey snowing planet and meet this woman. A woman Rocket had already brought several bounties to before. She needed her priceless reserves of waret-a highly prized metal used to make weapons-from her mines to her client who preferred to process it on their own.

“It’ll take us a few days to get there, we’ll stop tomorrow and refuel. Mantis, Kraglin it’s your turn to make dinner. Rest of you are dismissed. Groot, clean your mess.”

“I am Groot,” Groot huffed, standing from his chair and slouching off. Rocket watched him go.

Dinner was quiet, though Kraglin and mantis did manage to make some tasty sandwiches. Rocket found he didn’t have much of an appetite.

“Groot, could you put that away?” Gamora pleaded, looking at Groot who’s head was bent low into his game which he was trying to conceal under the table. “Groot!” Gamora snapped, nudging the table. Groot gave her a cold look, and went back to his game. Mantis nervously glanced between them.

“Rocket,” Gamora stared at him, the raccoonoid looked up already knowing what was expected of him.

“What?” Rocket shrugged, stuffing his face full of his sandwich. He was not going to do this. Not tonight.

“Can you something about him?” She demanded hotly.

“I am Goot!” Groot looked up only to glare at her and then turn his anger on Rocket.

“He doesn’t listen to me Gams,” Rocket admitted, ignoring the puzzled look from the rest of the team.

“I am Groot!” Groot threw down his video game, standing up, sending the plates and food smashing.

“Hey!” Peter scolded, Mantis let out a small whimper as her bread was dashed to the floor. “Groot get back here!” Peter tried, “Groot!” But the Flora colossus stalked off. Kraglin, Drax, Mantis and Gamora all looked at him.

“What am I his mother?! He don’t listen to me, he don’t listen to no one!” Rocket threw up his hands, shoving his plate away and going to his and Groot’s shared room. Groot moved from where he sat on his bed and looked at Rocket, making to stand up.

“Groot, listen buddy you gotta stop acting this way.”

“I am Groot.”

“You know what way!” Groot frowned and stood, brushing past him as he went.

“Groot! Don’t…” too late. The tree like teen pressed the lock with one vine as he left and their door rolled shut. Rocket ran his paws through his face. What am I going to do with him? He don’t listen, he acts all cranky and is uninterested in anything. Rocket sighed, sitting on his own bed. He lay there, the weight of the other’s pressing down on him. Groot would know what to do, not this moody Groot who hated him but the Groot who had saved him, the one who’d always been there for him. Rocket sat up, reached down under his bed and loosened the grated metal floor. Underneath he felt around for the small box and taking a deep breath he opened it on his lap. In the box lay three sticks. The remaining three sticks from the original Groot. Rocket took them gently in his paws, so carefully as not to break them, barely exerting pressure. He let his small fingers caress the splintered wood.

“You’re the most scared of all,” Yondu’s words echoed in his heart. Rocket sniffled, holding the stick to him. Scared. Scared to be alone, to be loved, to love others. When the locks of the door shifted, the raccoonoid frantically put the twigs back, under his bed. When Groot returned he pretended to sleep. That night, Rocket’s nightmares were once again of the lab and this time Groot was not there.