SILENT VOW;;
@beskerm
The scientists were back, announced by an old acquaintance of the duo during a particularly annoying bounty hunt on a particularly dark and sandy planet, a weak excuse for a ship their only escape from the occasional sandstorm that wracked the planet’s surface, and with no word to the tree, Rocket knew what to do. He knew what needed to be done, for he knew what would happen should he not take things into his own hands like had so many years back. And that started with protecting the dolt he considered a friend.
It had been given to him in a transmission, the announcement of their return, their hunt for his and the tree’s heads, and while he piloted in that moment without the stubborn flora, he knew it was a sign from the universe, a type of plea for him to make the right decision, to do what needed to be done. So, as they landed and he gave some bogus excuse for a bounty being the reason for the excursion, he considered everything Groot had ever done for him, everything he’d ever helped him to become, and knew right then how the plan needed to go.
Distraction was his partner in the plan’s rolling wheels, his careful pinpointing of when and where to kick things into high gear continuing to dash and dart in his mind, piecing together and tearing apart, forming a semblance of an idea, something dipped in dark and precise thoughts, old practices that helped them rob others, that would ensure things he never imagined doing alone. So much theft...
Hanging back with an idly excuse of working on his busted weapon, the raccoon’s eyebrows furrowed and his plan truly began. One firm shot to the back of the tree’s head was the only way to truly knock him out, his bark too thick to otherwise incapacitate him. The thud was heartbreaking, truly, for he knew what the story held next, what his plan called for as he stepped toward the unconscious and regrowing branches.
Heavy-handed, he carved the only message he knew would truly stick, that wouldn’t be blown away by sandstorms or snagged by wayward souls roaming the desert planet. He carved a map. Backing away at it’s completion, the alert - the announcement - sounded in his mind again, the worried call of an old friend on Knowhere to be cautious of those he was once terrified of - still terrified; he’d never stop being scared, not until the day he died - and he spared the tree an apologetic glance before rushing back to their landed ship.
Boarding it with ease and a weighing heart, he took off for the last known coordinates of the lab ship. This was it. This was what the universe had handed to him. This was his vow, his stupid promise to keep the giant idiot safe, spoken in whispers of tears and worried heartache in a cell no bigger than himself, and it was time to cash it in.
It was time to die protecting Groot.
