Simps For Rocket

Matthew groaned and noticed he was still on the med bay bed. "Ugh... Beauty? Have you seen me? I'm no Disney Princess..."

Peter clapped his hands. "Hah hah! Finally, someone who gets my references! You and me are destined to be buddies, I just know it!"

Matthew was still groggy, but he cracked a smile. A friend. He wasn't sure where he stood yet with the other Guardians, but having an actual friend in person, for the first time in years? That helped fill a void, it truly did. It eased the pain.

Of which Matthew realised suddenly that he was mostly free of.

"Those med paks work best with rest, so we thought we had better let you sleep. But wow... 3 whole days? You needed that, I can tell. It's written all over your face."

Matthew pushed himself up to try and react with surprise but realised Peter had spoken nothing but truth. His wounds from the crash were almost non existent, his heart hadn't disturbed him once during his long sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually gotten through a night without waking up gasping or palpitating. This is what refreshed felt like? It felt amazing! Like he could hop off this bed right now and be ready for the world. Cautiously however, his hand touched his chest. The med pak was still held on tight, some minor remnants of his chest discomfort remained. Perhaps, he thought, he had better take it slow? Especially in such an unknown space as... well, space.

Peter raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "I'm on the mark huh? You really weren't doing well back home were you? Well on that note, me and the others have been talking about you. More like arguing really, kind of amazed it didn't wake you up sooner. We're loud. Anyway, Gamora's willing to give you a chance in our care, but we gotta do a few things first, fair's fair."

"What kind of things?"

"Take it from me, the ever fabulous Star Lord. I know how it feels to get sent into space against your will. It's a lot to unpack. So I thought we'd start by showing you a friendly rest stop, somewhere you can always call home, worst comes to worst. Ease you into our ways. After that I was thinking we find an old friend, Cosmo, to ask him more about your powers and how we control them. The Church may be after you, but that won't matter if you make with the pew-pew and stop them yourself!"

"Stop them myself? Huh..." Still reeling from such a long sleep, Matthew without thinking, raised a hand as if to magically conjur up the power within. He'd seen it so often in video games and films, how hard could it be? But nothing happened, short of Peter flinching and ducking with a yelp of "Not the face!" When he finally noticed nothing was happening however, he stood up and offered his help.

A few minutes later, Gamora walked into the med bay to find both Matthew and Peter in a ridiculous pose, as though out of a children's cartoon where they don't realise how broken their powers are and have to summon them up with audience participation. Except this audience wanted nothing to do with this performance.

"Well, I was about to come and ask how Matthew was doing, recovery wise, but he seems more than ok. Maybe TOO ok. If anything that makes me want to depart for Knowhere sooner. He'd be safer there than in your care, Quill."

"Knowhere?"

"That's where we're heading," said Peter, clearing his throat and standing up straight to recover what dignity he could. Ever heard of a Celestial?

"No?"

"The Rip?"

"No..?"

"A, erm, space port?"

"Peter until 3 days ago, the most I knew about space was Star Wars. And even then I don't think anything I saw there is going to help me."

"Keeping it simple then. Got it. Celestials. Really ancient beings, rebelled against their bosses, blah blah blah, one of them is now a floating head. That's where they built Knowhere, a convenient port of call for all walks of life, right on the edge of a place called the Rip, the edge of space itself."

"...Why did they build it in an enormous disebombided head?"

"I dunno."

Matthew was silent for a moment. He was already talking about cosmic beings like it was everyday for him. It occured to him that when you've spent most of your life on a half destroyed mattress, you'll accept anything new regardless of the oddity. Quill tossed Matthew a small backpack, which looked like it was fished out of a dumpster.

"Fished it out of a dumpster, sorry about the smell, I was in a hurry not to get seen. While you were resting I figured we would go back to the old place and find anything you might consider valuable. There wasn't much left. Sorry."

The last remains of his time on Earth. Was anyone back there even going to miss him? Did Matthew care that they did or not? He sat back down on the bay bed, reached into the bag and found only two things.

The first was a long, dark navy coat, the kind that was perfectly plain in colour and reached down to his ankles. It was from a recent time where he had seen people wearing them and always wanted to try one for himself, but couldn't afford the fancy brand so he had to use the cheap knock-off website instead. It ended up being surprisingly beloved to him. Quill took a moment to inspect some pin badges on the lapel. A few of them had snapped off, but one or two depicted his home of Plymouth, a mock road sign and a rainbow flag above an image of the coastline, the Hoe.

The other thing inside the bag made Matthew audible laugh aloud, making Peter jump. "Hah! You can't drop these things or they'll break to bits, but they can survive an escape pod impact? Go figure."

Peter stared quizzically at the device. "What... is that? Some kind of phone?"

"A smartphone. Pretty much everyone relies on them on Earth these days, they're like pocket computers, and crazy addictive. Come to think of it, when were you last on Earth, Peter?"

"WAY before those things. I like my stuff more old school, like this baby." He presented a tape player, which showed signs of wear and tear but also showed it was obviously, dearly beloved by its owner. "A memento of my mom... and good times, you know?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Nah, everyone has their baggage on this ship. It's not a bad thing. Part of what makes us a family."

A family... First he was finding friends at long last, and now this was a possibility too? Matthew stilled the thought. For all he knew, this Cosmo person could say all of this was a waste of time and he would be back on Earth, and back to square one. Or rather the final square on the game board of life. He suddenly became very nervous about the trip to Knowhere.

"Pop your coat on, I think it'll help you fit in more. Then come meet us in the common area. We'll worry about guided tours of the Milano later!"

Peter left Matthew alone in the bay again. Before he got up to dress in the cheap coat, Matthew took a moment to browse the smartphone. It still had about 10% of its battery left. He glanced at what few photos he had of the outside world of Devon. He once considered seeing a different hospital an adventure, and now look where he was. It was tempting to bring it with him and take pictures of the new place, but then he realised that as far as he knew, he had no way of charging the device. Besides, if he was going to try and start a new life, he wanted to do it right. Memories were for the mind, not a screen.

He set the phone down besides him and, putting on the tacky coat, made for the door to this new world that awaited him. If he had paid more attention, he would have noticed later that someone unknown to him had come and taken the phone away.

***

When he stepped out of the med bay, and into the common area of the Milano, with its tattered couch, a fridge that wouldn't stay closed, a window to view the stars one at a time, and a workbench made especially for (and by) Rocket, Matthew felt like he was still asleep and dreaming, the dulcet tones of Rick Astley only adding to the delirious feeling. He noticed a sloped route leading to the ship's cockpit, and surrounding the common area on all sides, doorways leading to the individual rooms of the Guardians. Even just the doors matched their personalities. Matthew giggled at how Rocket had scribbled "definitely not a raccoon" in capital letters on his door.

"What?" Rocket piped up, snapping his fingers and making Matthew look over at the workbench where Rocket stood. "What's the matter with you? You looked more phased out than Drax when there's no one left to stabby-stab."

"This place is amazing."

"Pffff," Rocket stifled a laugh, causing Peter to give him a quick glare. "Well... I guess it could worse, we could have no ship at all. My ship is looking better than it used to." ("MY ship!" Peter yelled from the bathroom).

Rocket hopped down from his bench and, with more caution than Matthew was expecting, walked up to Matthew and inspected him all over. "Huh. Looks like you're in good shape. How... How are you feeling?"

Matthew wasn't anticipating such a nervous sounding question. He had a lot to say to Rocket, but was worried about hamming it up. He decided to just be himself.

"I'm much better now. Erm, do you mind me standing up like this or should I kneel down? I am pretty tall compared to most here."

"Standing up is fine. But thanks for asking. Most people just crouch and it's pretty flarking condescending."

"Standing it is. But really I wanted to say... What I should have said a lot sooner is... Thank you. For saving my life."

Rocket scoffed, and Matthew could have sworn he actually said the word scoff but he wasn't sure. "You do realise I'm the one who put you in that spot? Everyone here knows I'm one of the best pilots in the known universe, but even I can't control an obsolete design escape pod with the engines shot to scut."

"It really doesn't matter. You could have left when I insulted you, but you stayed, and you gave me this thing, to boot," said Matthew, pointing to his chest area where the med pak showed an outline under his coat and plain grey t-shirt. "I really do appreciate it. I was about to do something drastic and now, because you stepped up, here am I."

Rocket's fur bristled. It looked like he wanted to reply right away, but didn't know what to say. There was a glow of appreciation in his eyes, even though he knew the med pak wasn't entirely his work. The words that came out of his mouth didn't reflect it at all. "Just don't go damaging it. That thing cost way too many flarking units. I'll never finish the Zipper now."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to put you out of pocket."

Rocket said nothing to this. He didn't look like he was going to either. The silence was cut off when Groot chimed up a cheery "I am Grooooot!" from the Milano's docking area.

"Ok, ok, hold your horses, stumpcrotch, just gotta finish something up before we go." He put away some tools that Matthew couldn't have identified if he tried, and pocketed a small, round ball, while also sheathing a handful of weapons.

"What is that?" Matthew pondered.

"Let's just say I wanna be the one giving nasty surprises in case those Church scuts decide to pop up. Someone's gotta protect your ass. Again. Since you can't do it yourself."

The Church could come to Knowhere?! Despite being surrounded by capable people, Matthew didn't feel too safe now. What could a handful do against a whole army of Church soldiers, even if Rocket was armed like a one man army alone?

"Come on, before I leave you behind."

Before Matthew left the common area, he gave the fridge door a quick closing. Little things like that bothered him so much. He followed Rocket down a sloped gangway, through a narrow corridor and into a spacious cargo hold, where the ramp leading to the first outside place he had ever seen in 12 years would be waiting. That is if you didn't count the view between the crumbled bricks when his flat fell down. Inside, Gamora was cleaning off her sword, and gave Matthew a nod of acknowledgement. Drax was leaning against a large crate with his eyes closed; Matthew wrongfully concluded he was meditating, because Groot was being mischievous and standing in front of Drax, waving his branches around for a reaction. Rocket opened the door leading to Knowhere, and Matthew was met with a heavy sensory overload at once.

He had not been watching the descent down to Knowhere itself, but now the street lightning, contentious smells and the sounds of hustle, bustle, and the occasional person getting hurt made reality finally dawn on Matthew. This was definitely not anything like Earth. It was, from first impressions alone, the place to be if you had something to hide. Something BAD. He took a step back for a moment, but then seeing Rocket lead the way out in confidence made him reconsider. After all the Guardians, especially Rocket, had done for him, he owed them this much, to at least entertain the idea of exploring this violent sounding, dubious smelling place.

"Come on, and try to stay together," Peter said, leading the way while reaching for his headphones. "Knowhere is a good place overall for weirdos like us, but there are types here who watch for you to blink so they can pinch your wallet."

"Why would someone wish to merely pinch a wallet when they could steal it for the money?" Drax asked in total seriousness.

Peter, trying to ignore him, had the idea of a place he called The Aqua Moon to dull the nerves - the usual port of call, Starlin's, was a heavy place to start. The crew walked in relative silence through the slim, slum streets, everyone on alert except for Peter who was happily vibing to his tunes. While they did manage to pass friendly folks of all manner of species, from all walks of life, some demonstrated malice because of Matthew merely stepping too loudly, never mind the fact he was a puny humie. Sensing Matthew's apprehension, Groot stayed close, his posture stuck out as though ready to absorb a bullet at a moment's notice. Rocket drew closer - he could see how much of a shine his best friend had taken to the strange humie. Anyone in Groot's good books could be worth the risk to talk to a little, surely?

"Think I'd better get you up to speed on the others in our motley crew. I mean, don't get me wrong, they could very easily boot your butt back to Terra tomorrow."

"Comforting."

"Mmm hmm. But I have a feeling they won't. They talk big, their weapons are even bigger - especially mine - but they're a bunch of saps, the lot of them."

"I am Groot!"

"You're not supposed to take offense to that, Groot! And what do you mean that makes me a sap too?!"

"Grooooot..!" The voice was drawn out, knowing and cheeky.

"His what?! Ooh, you're lucky we're best buds pal, or I'd fill that bark full of holes right now!"

Matthew was happy observing the two friends banter, but between Groot's turn of tone and his wide smile, he became very curious. "You two sound like you've known each other for ages...What did he say you were?"

"None of your flarking business!"

For a moment Matthew considered stepping back and trying to talk to someone else, but he could sense something in Rocket's own voice. It didn't say "get away from me." It said "you're not wrong, but change the subject, quickly." Matthew obliged.

"You were saying about the other Guardians?"

"Right, right, yeah. Where do I start? We're all a bunch of dubious outcasts really." Again, Matthew detected a difference in what he said and what he meant by tone of voice. There was affection in there - Rocket was taking pride in this.

"Let's start simple, cause Drax is pretty flarking simple. He's from planet Katath. You'd never believe it from the size of those pecs, but he was just a farmer. Had a good life with his wife and daughter. But then a Galactic War happened. If you haven't heard of the name Thanos, you really should know who he is, cause he's a big deal to all of us. Long story short, he was a Titan, and after he slipped into Drax's home, burned it down, and killed his family, Drax swore revenge."

"Did he get it?"

"Yup, but Drax swears Thanos is still out there. Load of scut if you ask me, nobody's heard from him for 12 years. Then again he IS a Titan, you can never tell."

12 years. Obviously Thanos would have nothing to do with his health or powers, but the words alone were a trigger for Matthew. He shook it off, keen to keep listening.

"It doesn't help that he was also Gamora's daddy dearest."

"Wait what?"

"Kinda. She's from Zen-Whoberi, but don't go looking for it on any star charts, it was destroyed by, you guessed it, Thanos. He took her in as a kid, along with her flarknut of a sister, Nebula. Raised them to be assassins, and it worked - they call her the Deadliest Woman Alive. Killed a lot of people during the Galactic War, and she still ain't proud of it. First thing to understand about her is that she expects perfection, probably because it took her too long to realise her dad was a headcase."

"What about Groot? Did Thanos do something to him too?"

"Ah Groot, my best bud. He's the only guy who accepts me for being me. Don't get me wrong, I put up with these guys, but Groot's the first who really 'got' me. But nah, Thanos didn't get him. Not directly anyway. You don't mind me talking about it, do you bud?"

"Hmm... I am Groot."

"Just let me know if it gets too much ok? Groot's a really sensitive guy. He came from Planet X, always saw the good in others from the start. He's a Flora Collosus, fancy term for humanoid plants. They can regrow themselves from just small chippings. Pretty cool right?"

"Heh. You hear that Groot? We both think you're cool!"

Groot said nothing but deeply smiled. He was bracing for what came next, but Matthew could tell he appreciated the compliment nonetheless.

"He really is. The Galactic War again. Chitauri soldiers - that's creeps that were allied to Thanos - burned everything down. He's the last of his kind. Made him a value to a powerful figurehead around here called The Collector. You can take a wild guess what he does. He had Groot locked up in one of his displays, like a flarking animal. I just happened to be there, stealing some stuff. Started as a job to get some much needed units, and it turned into this. He and I just saw eye to eye from the start. Didn't even mind becoming a bounty hunter with me."

Matthew wanted to question the larceny aspect, but he had yet to see Rocket so talkative before now. Besides, Rocket had said everyone was from a questionable background, but from what Matthew could tell, they were all trying to make amends, and succeeding at it. He chose to believe for now, that Rocket was the same.

"And that's where Quill comes in. We met him because one of our contracts just so happened to be on his oversized head. You probably gathered already that's he's a terran just like you... You did gather that much right?"

"Of course!"

"Good, cause if you hadn't, I'd have stopped the conversation dead there. Can't stand morons. The Chitauri came to his place and sweeped him away from his mom. He met this guy, a Ravager called Yondu. Great guy, but you can never tell whose side he's on, and also very blue. Anyway, the Ravagers were like space pirates. Fun fact, my ship was actually their property once. Think that's why I took a shine to Quill, you know despite the contract."

"Honour amongst thieves you mean?"

"Yeah... Yeah actually! You mean you get it?"

Matthew held a hand behind his neck, shyly. He had completely forgotten he was walking on dangerous turf in Knowhere. "I never stole anything myself, so I can't say I completely get it, but you sure turned out good, so did Peter. I get the sense you're all people with bad reputations but good hearts."

Rocket's nose twitched.

"Well I... You'd be the only one then, Fruitcakes. Quill started out helping resist against those Chitauri scuts with the Ravagers and Yondu. Until he met a girl, a Kree lady, Ko-Rel. Bunch of complicated circumstances later, he just couldn't say no to her and testified against Yondu, getting him sent to a super high security prison, the Kyln. Heh, high security my foot. Ain't no prison I couldn't break out of yet. Too much for blue boy though. He stuck a bounty on Quill, and that's how we formed our team. Quill played nice to get us off his back at the time but, what can I say? It actually worked out."

This seemed as good a time as any to ask. "And what about you?"

"Huh?"

"If you don't mind me asking, what's your story? I know you spent time with Groot as a bounty hunter but-"

Rocket's expression went cold. He had finally noticed just how much he had been talking, to a human he barely knew. He had spilled the proverbial beans, and Matthew was the stray bird pecking them and swallowing them whole, where the damage would be done.

"...You don't want to know, chumbo. And don't ask. I mean it!"

Rocket walked on ahead, stopping to give a one eyed, six limbed, muscle bound alien a shout of "What are you looking at, flarknard?!" The alien curled into a pathetic ball in fear. The raised voice made Matthew jump at first, but he softly laughed to himself. What he saw was a very passionate man, with respect for those he cared for.

"He'll come around," Peter whispered, tapping Matthew on the shoulder and hanging his headphones around his neck. "He's been through... a lot. I shouldn't go into it right now but just try not to let him upset you if he gets moody. It took an excursion involving flooding cave water to finally get him to open up to us."

Rocket stopped his forward march, and was about to run full speed towards Peter, intent on kicking him in the shins.

"He saved all our lives you know."

"He did?"

Rocket stopped short. He turned again and continued to walk on ahead, as if his anger had dissipated into the starry skies, his bushy tail dropping out of tension mode.

"Yeah, we were stuck on a planet called Lamentis, and had to face foggy doppelgangers of ourselves. They just kept coming, overwhelmed us. Rocket was the only one who could stop them at the source, but the source meant he had to crawl through a cave of water. Stuff that happened to him in the past meant he was seriously afraid of water, but he went through with it anyway. He's got a twisted history like the rest of us. Stealing, lying, hurting, but he's also a total genius. We don't say it enough but we're lucky to have him, and his loyalty."

Rocket's ears flicked and metaphorically burned. Apparently he had heard everything, but with his back turned, Matthew couldn't tell how he took it. He had taken in a lot of context and information. Though he had committed it quickly to memory, his mind only focused on his curiousity surrounding whatever Rocket's tale could be. The next words to come from Matthew's mouth were instinctual, truthful and little did he or Rocket know, the start of a special journey.

"... Can't just..."

"...Fine now... Needs rest-"

"He'll bring... Our doorstep-"

"I... Groot-"

Fragmented words, of time passing that Matthew just couldn't make heads or tails of. None of these voices were familiar to him, not a single one. Great, more surprises. And to think he was hoping to leap off a bridge not long ago... however long not long ago was.

He was lying on a hospital bed, or similar. He put a hand to his head and tried to pick himself up. For a moment he hesitated. A hand went to his chest. Was the pain gone again? Had he somehow wound up back in dream land? No. There was something flat and metallic to the touch on him, a belt and metal plating. He could feel something working underneath the metal, but it could have been massaging him for all he knew. Whatever it was, it was easing up his cardiac symptoms greatly.

That's when he realised just how easily he had sat up in the first place. The last thing he remembered was being dropped by Raker and in so much discomfort and pain from injuries, blood loss and cardiac matters that he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. Frankly he couldn't believe he had opened them at all. He remembered Rocket and was about to scan the room for him, when a man who looked around his age approached him in good spirits. He wore a red, rosy coloured bomber jacket, a plain navy shirt beneath it, and just as plain jeans with a pair of leather holsters. He had unassuming blonde hair pulled back neatly, and a little stubble. Here, Matthew thought, was a man that did everything in his power to look handsome in the most basic form of the word.

"Morning, sunshine, the Earth says hello! Have I got the right quote there? Knew I shouldn't have skipped over that track."

"Erm... Hello?" Matthew was still too groggy to be so upbeat so soon, let alone experience such infectious positivity from someone else. There wasn't any sign of Rocket.

"You're Matthew right? Maybe you've heard of me? Peter Quill, but most people call me, drum roll please, aaaaaaaa-Star Lord!"

There was an awkward silence. Matthew wondered if he was supposed to have regained consciousness later or not.

"Sorry..." he muttered, not wishing to offend Peter. "I can't say I have?"

"No?" Peter looked flummoxed but not necessarily disappointed. He had a clear understanding of the situation, he just handled it in a juvenile manner. "How about, the Guardians of the Galaxy? Eh? Eh? I'm their leader? Eh?"

Matthew cast his mind back, something tickled his memories from when the Church soldiers had stepped into his destroyed home. He was surprised how nonchalant he felt about losing his home. Then he remembered how the female commander had called Rocket a Guardian. "Vaguely?" he answered, just as vaguely. "Someone among those masked guys mentioned you, but I was very, well..."

"Preoccupied!"

"I was going to say in sheer pain but that works too."

Peter flashed Matthew a toothy smile. It was the kind of smile that said they would get along just fine. "Don't you worry, you're in safe hands now. And paws if you count Rocket. Speaking of which, he had me worried over the comms, but you bounced back fast with that med pak on your chest."

"A med pak? This thing?" Matthew flicked it with a finger for a ding sound. It was the little things.

"Yup," Quill continued. "They're not miracle cures on their own, still takes a good amount of rest and co-operation on the patient's part. You must have really wanted to bounce back, right?"

This was quite the realisation to hit Matthew so suddenly. Yes. He did. In fact he couldn't believe that he wanted to end his life at all now. With the weight and pressure in his chest gone, under control by this belt, he was so incredibly glad he was able to resist both the urge to leave and the seduction that his mind maze had tried to get him lost in. He was relieved for sure, but something in the back of his mind threatened to panic if he didn't start getting more answers.

"Thank you, Peter. I mean it. This is literally a life saver. But I still have so many questions, I don't know where to begin."

Quill gave him a thumbs up. "No worries! But maybe get a bit of rest first? After that I want to hear what's changed back home. You're not the only Earthling aboard the Milano after all. That's my ship's name, by the way-"

"MY ship," came a familiar, gruff voice. Rocket had peeked around the door to the medbay, but ducked his head back around soon after, his tail swishing around too. Matthew surmised that he must have been leaning against the walls just outside and listening in. Just from a brief glance, he could tell something wasn't quite right, like Rocket had been rattled by the encounter back home. He decided to withhold pressing the issue until he could find the correct words. After what he had seen in his visions, he sensed the last thing he wanted right now was to upset Rocket further.

"You've met Rocket. Sorry about your place by the way..." Peter became solemn, in a way that almost didn't fit his young at heart first impressions. "I know how it feels, losing everything you know and love, and ending up in the middle of space-nowhere. But we can get you back on your feet, then you can figure out what you want to do next. Sky's the limit! Or in this case, the stars. You know cause we're in space-"

"Quill, seriously, what did I say about treating him like royalty?" a female voice shouted out, as the next new face entered the med bay. She had dark red hair, blood-like to a degree, and was dressed in white and black body armour from neck to toe. She was taller than Peter; leaner but more well built, armed with a blade in pristine condition, and above all else-

"Green," Matthew couldn't help blurting out. The part where Peter had mentioned them being in space had sailed clean over his head. He felt terrible. He had already upset Rocket with his presumptions, now he'd just done it again. Luckily this lady didn't take it badly at all. Besides, being in space was the least odd thing about today.

"Well observed, at least your eyesight is improving. I'm Gamora. I'm sorry you lost your home too, I really am, but I have to be straight with you." She approached the med bay bed and leaned down to be sure her message was received loud and clear. "You're putting us all in danger just by being here. We need to get you fixed up and off the Milano as soon as possible."

"Gamora, we talked about this. The guy's heart is a ticking time bomb and he doesn't have a place to go back to."

"He's a time bomb threatening to blow us ALL to bits, Quill. The Church knows about him and his powers now. You've seen their numbers. If we don't eject him now we'll either get overwhelmed in the day or they'll come for us in our sleep."

Questions, questions, questions. "Sorry, Gamora was it?" Matthew had to raise a hand to try and get a word in. "Just what is going on here? Why am I on this Milano ship? And who were those Church people? Am I... really safe?"

It had dawned on Matthew that despite the relief of his medical symptoms, he felt more vulnerable than he ever had in his life, even with Peter's best efforts. Apparently his concern wasn't so easy to answer for either Peter or Gamora. But, as if attuned to their awkward silence, two more figures stepped into the room. One was an enormous, bald, pale man, tattooed in bright red across his chest. He wore gloves that reached high up the forearms, and lightweight trousers that supported two short-hand blades in their sheathes. Just looking at his biceps made Matthew worry he could snap him two, by sneezing too loudly.

The other was the last, but certainly not least of Matthew's surprises aboard the ship. He had to cover his mouth with an open palm to stop himself blurting out words he may again regret. The last person to enter the room was a walking tree. No, not a tree, but a man of even more heavyset build than the bald man, and made entirely of tree bark. There was a thick buckle over his chest, with grips on the shoulder to hold onto. The grips were so small that only Rocket could possibly hold them. While deducing this, Matthew noticed the bark-person's eyes. Of everyone aboard the ship, he easily had the most gentle appearance. When he spoke, he made Matthew feel at ease, like there was nothing at all to worry about.

"I am Groot."

"The tree is presumably trying to tell our guest about the Church. Very well. I shall interpret after introductions." The bald man's voice was matter of fact, fatherly even. "My name is Drax the Destroyer. Do not be alarmed, in spite of my name, I do not seek to destroy you. This is Groot. He is a Flora Colossus, and last of his kind. If you have any need, you are welcome to let any of us know, thin man."

Matthew was about to speak when Peter grabbed his shoulder. "So the first thing you need to know about Drax is that he takes a lot of things literally. It's a trait of his people, Katahian warriors. Watch what you say, or we'll go around in circles."

Drax folded his arms, and pulled Peter away from Matthew, speaking extremely bluntly. "It is not wise for him to go around in circles, while he is recovering. Nor do I believe he can see the words he speaks."

Peter leaned to look at Matthew's bewildered face, and shrugged his shoulders, hands and palms raised. It raised a giggle from Matthew. These people were odd, ragtag, mismatched and all over the place, but they had their ways of putting him at ease in his insecurities. "You were saying? About the Church?"

"Ah yes, excuse me," Drax stepped back. "The Universal Church Of Truth. We have been observing their widespread behaviours for some time now, but found out little. What we do know is they seek to control civilizations, by subjecting them to The Promise, and making them believe they are having their heart's desires granted. Make no mistake, they are organised and capable of fighting, but they choose to manipulate and control. A cowardly bunch."

Gamora, sensing Drax was about to go off on a tangent, stepped in. "The Church uses a power called Faith energy. You can find that power in pretty much anyone, in small quantities, but they know how to both artificially enhance it and extract it from people. That's why they put people in the chokehold of the Promise, so they can siphon them of their energy without them resisting."

Matthew remembered back to when Raker touched his forehead. "And that's what they tried to do to me?"

"Yes," Gamora nodded. "Rocket says Raker wanted to ease your suffering, but there's always a catch when people say that. We found out about Raker during our rescue missions but I guess Rocket didn't stick around long enough to hear it. Raker's kindly old man facade is paper thin. He would have just used you to charge up more of those faith energy batteries. We sent Rocket into one of the Church's strongholds. We were chasing clues as to where a large number of people had disappeared too."

"Good news is, we found them, all ga-ga under the hypnosis of the Promise, and got them to safety." Peter cheerfully said, raising a finger. "Bad news. Rocket went solo and pinched a big battery from the stronghold, and go figure, they're possessive of those things."

"What was he thinking?!" Gamora lost her composure. "If he hadn't alerted them, this man would have never been put at risk!"

"My guess? He did it for the units. Lots of units."

"Units?! So we have the whole Church after our heads because he wanted to get rich, quick?!"

"Please don't be mad at Rocket!" Matthew spoke up. He could have sworn he heard a gasp of surprise from the corridor outside. "If he hadn't shown up when he did, I... might not be here now. He saved my life."

"After endangering it-"

"No! He really did. Him crash landing was just an accident. It could have happened to anyone. I didn't ask to get caught up in this but I'm here now. Why does that make me a risk?"

Gamora took a moment to process before answering. This man wasn't the total weakling he first appeared to be. "When you resisted the Promise, you emitted a powerful burst of Faith energy. It was incredibly powerful, but uncontrolled. We and your power may have gotten you free of Raker and the Church for now, but now he knows you're a more precious source of energy than any number of his batteries can hold, you can guarantee he will come for you. And by extension, us."

The blank stare returned to Matthew's eyes, now with 50% extra blankness. Faith energy. And he had... powers? He gave the medbay bed a slap to make sure he wasn't still in the Promise.

He had never noticed anything unusual about himself for all these years. Besides, he remembered Raker using his faith energy to fix his wounds. Shouldn't Matthew have been able to fix himself if he had the same power? Were these powers why he was able to escape Raker's manipulation?

"I am Groot. I... am Groot."

Gamora rolled her eyes. "By the sounds of it he's guessing what you're thinking. Too bad we can't do the same for him. Before you ask- Yes, all he can say is I, Am or Groot, or a combination thereof. He's a very sweet guy, but flark if we understand him."

"That's because you don't listen," Rocket stormed into the room, grumpy as ever. "Groot here is my best buddy. He says that your powers are what you make them out to be."

"What... does that mean?" This was far too vague a response for Matthew while so full of confusion as it was.

"I am Groot."

"He says as long as it's something that exists, Faith energy can construct whatever you want it to be. You want it to be watery it acts like water. You want it to be explosive, it flarking explodes."

Peter smiled and winked. "Those are some carefully chosen examples, Rocket..!"

"Flark off, Quill, I'm explaining so he can understand. He says it couldn't heal your heart because you don't know how yourself, so even if you knew how to use your powers, you couldn't believe hard enough that you can get better. Would be even tougher to believe that now, with that belt on you. It's keeping you in check, but I can only modify it so much. The moment it comes off..."

"...Is the moment it hurts again," Matthew winced.

Rocket snorted. Matthew had somehow struck the wrong wording again, because before he could do anything, Rocket had left the room once more.

"Rocket's a complicated guy, Matthew," Peter explained. "Don't ever call him a r-"

"Stop," Matthew interjected. "I know already."

"Well good, because if I can be frank. If he hadn't modified the pak, you'd be in a lot worse shape right now. And we'd all fall apart. He likes to complain he has to do everything on this ship, and between you and me? He's not wrong."

Matthew looked towards the doorway. He heard the unmistakable sound of Rocket's tail swishing against the wall in reaction. Rocket must have noticed the sound himself, because he walked away out of earshot down the corridor. Matthew smiled a smile even he couldn't control.

"I believe that is enough questions for now," Drax sternly said, and just like that everyone agreed. "You still need plenty of rest, regardless of what may happen next."

"Yeah, I suppose we can hold off any action for a short while," Gamora sighed and turned to leave. "It's a lot to take in, I admit."

"He does not appear to have anything inside him. What has been taken in?"

"Drax. Out. Now."

Only Groot and Peter remained by Matthew's side. Groot held out a bark covered hand, and from it grew a single, white flower. It reminded Matthew of an overgrown daisy, except the yellow middle was liquid gel, and smelt like honey.

"I am Groot."

"Ah I know what this is," Peter mused. "A Mellisomnus! Groot gave me one of these before when I needed 80 winks instead of 40. Chomp it down and you'll have the best night's sleep in years. Just don't eat them in the wild, these things are actually carnivorous. They wait for you to fall asleep and down you go! Heh heh. Go on, we'll let you get some shut eye. Just holler if you're dying-"

"I am GROOT!"

"Ok ok, poor choice of words! Holler if... we can help. And welcome aboard. We don't have much, but what's ours is yours!"

Groot offered the same hand that had grown the flower for Matthew to hold as he ate the flower. It tasted just as sweet as it smelt, and inexplicably had the texture of cake. If only all healthy eating could be this rewarding. Matthew's mind was still a whir. He had powers. He had the same powers that the Church who tried to brainwash him used. He would have been under their control if it wasn't for those powers, or the influence of Rocket. In fact if it wasn't for Rocket or the Guardians, he would be long dead now without ever knowing things would actually, for once in his life, get better. True he was - it finally hit him - in space, and true he had a fanatic cult trying to locate him, but wasn't this like the life he wanted anyway? Away from that horrid bedspace, and headspace, seeing the world. Forget the world, he was about to see the universe!

His mood was somewhere between ecstatic to discover more about his new venture, and eager to talk more to Rocket; the one person among the Guardians to vacate the room without saying why. Whatever the reason was, Matthew's naturally curious nature just had to know. Before he could consider how to go about the discussion, he was out like a light. Groot patted the top of his hand and quietly left the medical bay, dimming the lights behind him.

Rocket was sat in the Milano's common area, unable to get comfortable on the well worn couch. His eyes darted side to side, he was deep in conflicted thoughts. Whatever he was thinking, it most certainly had to do with their new guest. Rocket knew precisely what had upset him so much, but d'ast if he would tell the others why. Anyone that wasn't Groot that is.

On cue, Groot passed Rocket, the Flora Collosus heading for his sleeping quarters. "I am Groot."

"I'm... a bit out of it bud. Something he said back there on Terra and in the med bay. He said it... hurts."

"I am Groot?"

"I know bud. I'll get plenty of rest soon. I just gotta keep busy. Thanks though. Really."

Rocket hopped to his feet and approached his nearby workbench, tinkering with anything and everything he could find, as though he were washing dishes to de-stress. Groot and the others were too sound asleep to notice, but on occasion, Rocket would peek into the med bay, to make absolutely sure Matthew hadn't died. He couldn't make himself enter the room.

"Rocket Raccoon..." one of the many, MANY robed figures shouted, presumably a commander; her booming voice making even Matthew pay attention through his near fainting spells. "Genius amongst the Guardians of the Galaxy, and all-around rogue."

Rocket guffawed. "Rogue? I think you might be looking for the X-Men, pals."

"Enough with the antics. You know precisely why we have pursued you. Surrender the faith energy battery in your left pocket, and all shall be forgiven."

"Only you Church Of Truth scuts could make that sound like a threat." Rocket fished out a small, cube container that emitted a brilliant light. It would have fit right in as part of one of the soldier's masks or helmets. "Way I see it, faith energy ain't something anyone can take ownership of, it's like bottling up and selling oxygen... Wait has anyone actually tried that?"

"Scuba divers..." Matthew weakly smiled. He couldn't help but see the humour, it was about the only thing keeping him sane right now.

"What's a scuba?"

"I said ENOUGH," the authoritarian voice pronounced, and this time even Rocket took it more seriously. "Now then. If my words, and the dozens of construct weapons trained on you are not enough to convince you to surrender - and by that stifled laugh I can see they aren't - then perhaps our leader should have his way with you?"

"What, you mean you ain't in charge? Too bad lady, now I can't take you serious at all..! Especially with that mask. Didn't realise I crash landed at a defunct metalworks."

With little more than a huff of discontent, the commander and all of those under her stood to one side. For a moment something blinded Matthew's vision. He would have shielded his eyes if he could, but no amount of squinting could block out this light. Golden. Shimmering. And yet not quite awe inspiring, because nestled between the glows were fragments of something sharp, dark and scathing. You had to look closely to see them but they were definitely there. Stepping off the largest of the ship's gangways was the source of the light - a very thin, elderly man. He had a large, hanging beard, silvery as though to demonstrate untold wisdom, and reaching up to his receding hairline. Though his forehead was wrinkled, the rest of him looked young. He did not wear a mask like the others, but his gold and red robes were twice the size and length, Matthew imagined someone having to carry the back end like for a king on his way to be crowned. Most striking of all however were his arms. Though one of them was still human, and incredibly wrinkled like it hadn't been used in years, the other was made of solid gold, right up to the shoulder. Instead of being smooth like an arm should be however, it was an uneven surface of cuboids. There was definitely a running theme, of beauty mixed with unpredictability. And when he finally spoke, it was a far cry from the soldier before. He sounded calm, welcoming, perhaps even like he could help.

"Greetings Rocket. Have you heard of me?"

Rocket looked like he was considering something crazy, but occasional eye flicks to the many surrounding underlings made him reconsider every time. "If it isn't everyone's favourite cultist nutjob. Just kidding, I don't have the first flarking idea who you specifically are, Mr Wrinkles."

"Oh dear," the old man did the most old man thing possible and stroked his beard. "You absconded with one of our precious batteries and you don't even know that much? Goodness me. Well far be it from me to leave someone... unenlightened. My name is Raker, and I stand as the Grand Unifier, the leader, of the Universal Church Of Truth."

"Grand Unifier Goldenbutt. Got it."

The insults seemed to pass over Raker, who simply smiled. "My friend, for all of your genius, you don't seem to know what you hold. This little battery is just as valuable to us as any you could have taken. With all of them together, we can complete our noble objectives, in the memory of my dearly departed son, lost to illness."

Something stirred in Matthew. He shouldn't be feeling sorry for these people and these honey coated words, but he couldn't help it.

"Oh boo flarking hoo," and Rocket made sure to put his hands on his hips, and shake them side to side on every syllable. "Everyone's got dead people, me included. It's no excuse to get more people dead along the way."

"Dead? I assure you, Rocket, we would rather discuss a peaceful negotiation-"

"Well then can we 'peacefully negotiate, after I get this humie some help? He'll bleed out by the time we're done talking, or shooting, or whatever."

"Thanks for noticing me..." Matthew rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh, partly from fatigue, partly from the sardonic nature of it all. Unfortunately for him, between Rocket's concerns and Matthew's sighing, he had caught the attention of the Grand Unifier.

"Oh my," Raker stepped closer. He was a very tall man, a whole foot larger than Matthew, and Matthew realised just how small Rocket was in comparison. Yet something about the latter made him seem larger. Larger than life even. "This poor man is indeed suffering. What a shame that you caused him such pain, Rocket."

"Why you-"

"However, I know of your reputation and trickery. The moment I allow you reprieve, you will surely disappear, battery in hand, and then return to relieve us of even more valuable resources. As I said, we cannot afford to waste even a single one of these precious batteries. So as much as I have tried to be the voice of reason, I'm afraid I will have to take a more serious approach."

He reached down and dragged Matthew out of the rubble, holding him suspended by the scruff of his bedraggled black t-shirt. The pain! Matthew thought he had been in the thick of it before, but this was like nothing he had ever felt. Everything felt on fire, every part of his body wished it were ripped off just to stop the sensation. Raker had not been careful as to monitor the metal parts piercing Matthew, and now his bleeding was heavily exemplified.

Rocket stood to attention and reached for a small weapon, which morphed into a big weapon, which morphed again into an even bigger weapon. A multi barreled rocket launched, with more fire power than ever would be expected or necessary, even for such a large outpouring of enemies. "You flarking idiot! Let him go! Can't you see he's spilling out everywhere?!"

A solemn look crossed Raker's eyes. "Yes, I do apologise. As long as he is within my reach however, I can be assured you will not try something foolish with your weapons,"

"How do you know that? I don't know this guy, we only just met."

"I know a kind soul when I see one. I know, stranger or not, you would feel responsible."

Rocket had no answer to that except to growl from the bottom of his soul, and grip onto his oversized weapon even more.

"Though you are quite right about this man. First, let me tend to the most immediate wounds, it would be a shame to lose such a commodity." Raker moved his golden clad hand towards Matthew's abdomen. The golden energies surrounded him concentrated into his hand, pouring into the gaping wound. At once, the flesh around it began to close, not enough to completely stop the bleeding, but enough to prevent certain death.

"There now. And if we come to a good agreement, I will restore even more of his wounds, you have my word."

Matthew winced. He hung limply; still in tremendous pain, as his heart began to worsen from the life and death stress. Adrenaline was never his friend.

"You do realise he's got heart trouble too right? Funny, glowing lights ain't gonna do him much good! Just let him go."

Raker's expression became ice cold. It was like Rocket had just unknowingly insulted everything he stood for. "That... description, is precisely why you do not understand what you possess. Were you only to believe. Then you would understand what my faith energies can truly do. As a matter of fact, I think a better demonstration is in order. If he truly is suffering as badly as you say, I need only grant him a gift of a new life."

The fur on Rocket's tail stood on end. Despite his limited knowledge of the Universal Church Of Truth, he knew exactly what Raker implied, but he also knew that no matter the circumstances , he would not be able to shoot through a suffering hostage. "Don't you flarking dare! He's got no part of this!"

"Everyone will be a part of this eventually. That isn't a threat mind you. It's a promise. THE Promise."

The same golden hand that had helped to heal Matthew's wound now moved to his forehead, where a single golden finger touched it squarely in the middle. Matthew's body jutted outwards, as an explosion of energy coursed into his brain. It felt warm, welcoming and wrapped him like a cocoon. The last thing he remembered seeing was the wide eyed worry of Rocket, and then reality as he knew it was no more.

***

There was no pain.

When Matthew first recovered his consciousness, this was the first thing he noticed. His heart was stable. The wounds on his body were gone as though they were never there, not even any scarring remained. It surprised Matthew himself just how quickly he was able to rise to his feet and pat his body over, checking for anything broken. Nothing at all.

There was no pain.

Finally able to see straight and hear without a ringing in his ears, he looked around. Blue, midday skies without a hint of messy dust, the sights of a marina bay stretching over the horizon, the smell of local harbour side foods, inviting him to spend the wealth he inexplicably had accumulated in his pocket. He knew exactly where he was, this was the edge of the Merlion Park of Singapore. He had always dreamed of seeing this place, but had neither the health nor money that resulted from good health to make it. As water poured from the statue's mouth into the Marina Bay, Matthew couldn't stop wondering how he ever got here. He turned to try and stop a passerby, but realised he was alone. This didn't seem to bother him however. It was peaceful. It was a chance to soak in something he had always thought he would never accomplish.

There was no pain.

With his eyes occasionally returning to the Merlion fixture, Matthew walked the length of the waterfront to the other end, stopping short of entering what would surely be a more bustling city. He was still in disbelief. Just walking to his kitchen from his bed was an adventure, and now here he was walking the Fullerton mile, like he could do this a dozen times and still not get tired. In fact this was exactly what he wanted to do. He couldn't tire of this view if he tried. Though perhaps a sit down on those steps right next to the giant water feature wouldn't hurt. After all...

There was no pain.

Every detail stood out, as though it was the first time Matthew had ever put on his glasses. Sunshine bounced off the near still bay waters. Matthew could have sworn he saw something black and sharp in the same light, but blinked and missed whatever it was. He must have imagined it. He could see a slowly turning tourist trap big wheel in the distance, maybe he would go there next? Or maybe he would try the view from the Esplande Bridge? He knew that the Merlion statue once had to be moved because the bridge obscured the statue's view. He could even check into the nearby Fullerton Hotel, he had more than enough money to do so, and stay to admire his personal favourite view as long as he liked. The idea of picking and choosing his life was still a foreign concept to him, but he had one. He could go anywhere he wanted, any time he wished.

There was no pain.

The one thing missing from this personal picture perfect postcard paradise, was the company of a man. Matthew had always imagined himself with someone a little older, but a lot larger. He didn't see the problem of having a soft middle, if anything it would make someone feel safer. Like there was no pain.

What he felt grab his hand instead, was definitely soft, but not quite the picture his mind was painting. This picture was rougher around the edges, and more a rough sketch than a masterpiece.

"Nice place, Fruitcakes."

Matthew gasped, and snatched his hand away. By his side, at hip level, and taken aback by the dropped hand, was Rocket. He was dressed in a pair of bathing shorts, blue and thick, the kind that would comedically puff up when you first enter the water, and a pair of sunglasses that looked more expensive than even the unexplained wealth in Matthew's pockets could afford.

"Rocket? How did you get here?"

"Rocket lifted up his sunglasses with a sly wink. "You don't even know how YOU got here, and you wanna ask me how I did? Strange priorities you got there, Fruitcakes."

He let the sunglasses fall back over his eyes, and took a sip of a cold drink from a striped cup. Matthew could see a white stain around his fuzzy lips and concluded it must have been a milkshake of some kind, though for some reason the cup was labelled with Matthew's name.

"But to answer your question, we're here to relax. You said you wanted to come here, so I made a date of it."

"A... date?!" For the first time since his arrival here, Matthew felt a negative emotion. Something sharp whisked past his eye, like it was threatening to slice the cornea.

"Yup. What? You don't like it here? We can go somewhere else if you want. Earth's a nice place after all."

The sharp objects whirled by again, more clearly this time.

"I thought you said you didn't like this place? And a date? Sorry Rocket, but I thought we barely knew each other?"

"Doesn't bother me. Long as you're happy, that's what matters. We're here to do what you want, right?"

Matthew had to swat a hand this time to try and stop the little black objects from getting too close. They were amassing in numbers but still didn't threaten to ruin the beautiful scenery, or the view of Rocket himself. Being shirtless and in direct line of the sunlight, he was doing his best to look alluring and appealing as possible. The muscle Matthew had seen before was on clear view now. Built to be defined and perfect.

Before?

"You ok? I've never seen you act like this before. You need to sit down?"

Before Matthew could protest, Rocket had taken his hand again and they sat down on the steps directly next to the Merlion statue. It towered over them, continuing to expel crystalline water from its mouth into the sea. For a moment, Matthew felt like it was looking at him.

"I thought you wanted to be with someone? What's wrong with me being that someone? Don't you like this place? Don't you like being with me here?"

When Matthew turned to look at Rocket, he saw a hurt-filled face, one that Matthew worried he had just caused. He didn't understand what he had done, but a large part of him wanted to make it right. He lifted Rocket's small hands and they held each other in palms, looking into each other's eyes. A smile crossed Rocket, a genuine, heartfelt smile. The sharp objects faded.

"There he is, there's my man. Don't go worrying me like that again ok? It hurts to see you hurting."

"Hurts..." Matthew said the word louder than he thought he was going to. The word echoed as though to cause ripples across the entire bay. The sound around him became muffled. Light in the sky became blood red. From the Merlion's mouth, the black objects began to pour instead of water. It was definitely looking at him now, judging him.

"No..."

He felt a jolt from his chest. There was no pain. There was no pain. There was no pain.

There wasn't supposed to be pain.

"This place... it isn't real. It's too... Nothing about it makes sense. Neither do you, Rocket."

Rocket recoiled, gasping in shock. "What are you talking about? It's me, Fruitcakes. Rocket. The one and only."

Matthew stood up, but found the heaviness in his chest growing enough to to force him back down again. The wind of the sea breeze blew black fragments into his face, he could feel the cuts but they did no visible damage. From time to time, the sunshine and water tried to make themselves known again.

"I... No! I only knew the real Rocket for a little while, but why would he be with me here? Why would he say so many weird things? None of this is the impression I got from him."

"A wrong impression? You mean... you don't like me?"

Matthew's hands wanted to grab his chest, but instead they went to side of his head, an immense pressure growing, not dismilar from whenever he would pass out, but much greater like his brain was trying to burst out. "I don't know! I don't know what all this is!"

"It's everything you want, Matthew. Including me." The distortion increased.

"How can that be? We don't even know each other."

"...That really hurts, Matthew."

Hurts.

The word resonated again. Strangely it felt like Rocket had said it twice, in two different afflictions, yet the echo was in Matthew's voice.

"This pain... It hurts..."

It all came flooding back. Rubble dust enveloped the surroundings. Buildings became decrepit and fallen. The water started to be replaced by the black shards. An increasing number of shards poured from the Merlion's mouth, threatening to raise the sea level itself.

"I remember now... That man, Raker. Did he do this? Did he force me into some kind of dream world?"

"This isn't a dream!!" Rocket tried to put his hand on Matthew's cheek. There were tears in his eyes but his hand felt cold and lifeless. "I'm really here for you."

"Rocket... Yes. He's trying to help me. He wants to get me away from those people. The real Rocket. You're... not the real Rocket."

"How can you say that?!" When Rocket began to inexplicably cry, the tears were dark and cut at his cheeks. "You're breaking my heart here."

Despite the pain, despite his heart and heartstrings alike being tugged upon, Matthew stood to his feet, tall and stronger than he dared to ever be before.

"He made this place to put my mind at ease. What did he call it, a Promise? I don't know if this Raker made it himself, or if it's just my own mind amplifying things. I don't know why it would include someone I only just met. But it's not real. None of this is real."

The ground started to crumble around him. Buildings began to fall clean through the floor. The bay drained. The statue fell forwards, collapsing on unstable ground.

The voice that emerged from Rocket now was now a mix of his usual tone and a layered, creepy voice, like a malfunctioning doll. "You don't huRT here. YOu hAVe evERytHiNg yoU WAntEd, fOr notHIng."

"I'd be living a total lie! Like I always have been. Just waiting to die, like I always did, but this time with a smile on my face."

"YoU wOulD ratHER LIvE a liFe oF shEEr PAIn?! I cAn GIVe YoU evERytHINg. EVERYTHING."

Matthew turned to look towards what was left of the sun. It was beginning to dim and die. It, too, fell into the void

"Something about him really has affected me. I don't know what it is yet, but suddenly... I hope that one day I'll be free of this pain again. Like I always used to hope when it all started. He's the first person in years to try and help me, when he didn't have to. I don't know what a figment of him is doing in this place, but I know only the real Rocket holds the key to understanding why."

"So yes. I would rather live in the truth and in pain, if it means a chance of actually living a life."

With these words, the ground at Matthew's feet gave out. Down he fell, down, down. As he dropped, he felt the pain in his chest subside, like a weight off it. He smiled up at the fake figure of Rocket who was reaching for him from afar.

He was falling not into darkness, but towards an enormous mass of golden light. The sun that had fallen was becoming larger and softer looking. Inviting and nurturing in feeling, but an enormous, unknown mass nonetheless. But he wasn't afraid. Not long ago he had quickly forgotten what such hope felt like but now? He felt like everything was going to be alright, no matter where this may lead him, and no matter how far he would fall.

All he had to do was have a little faith.

***

"Hurts..."

Rocket's tail coiled and his posture loosened. Did Matthew just say-?

"Hurts..!"

This time Rocket couldn't help mouthing the word at near the same time as Matthew muttering it. It was a word that was deeply significant to him. He felt his concentration wavering, as a flood of emotions washed over his mind. Just what was Matthew going through? For the first time in a long time, Rocket felt helpless.

Matthew's body began to become more rigid and alive in Raker's grip. Raker's calm demeanour gave way to an expression of total shock and awe, for he was the first to notice Matthew's eyes as they shot wide open. A serene, golden, blank stare greeted the Grand Matriarch.

Matthew briefly curled inwards and his arms and legs threw themselves outward, his chest puffing out, his head and messy hair throwing backwards. Glorious, golden light erupted from every angle of Matthew's body, blinding Raker and causing him to recoil in pain, dropping Matthew to the ground. Just as quickly as it had begun, Matthew had gone from a beautiful beacon to a spent heap. Raker rubbed his eyes, and when his vision returned to him, he noticed the burns on his still ordinary arm.

"Impossible."

Quick witted Rocket was in as much of a stupor as everyone else, soldiers included, as he witnessed the golden spectacle, but the moment Matthew fell from Raker's grasp, Rocket felt that old drive snap back into place.

"Oh... yeah."

Rocket began launching miniaturised explosives all over the place, the first specially aimed for Raker, sending him sailing backwards, far away from his hostage. Rocket turned his attention to the Church soldiers, unleashing a never ending wave of explosives on anyone who dared get close or otherwise. Anyone who tried to reach for their own guns would either be blasted back by the impact upon a neighbouring soldier, or hit directly by an explosive and be long separated from their weapons. All the while, Rocket yelled at the top of his lungs. He was halfway between enjoying himself and venting the pent up rage his encounter with Raker had accumulated.

The instant he stopped to (finally) reload however, Raker was back on his feet. He moved at a speed that defied his age, his feet obscured under the flowing robes. As he travelled, his artificial hand began to mould the same golden energy he had used before into a constructed scythe, which curled around to encompass Rocket's neck, causing him to lean backwards. It was so large and wide that ducking under it would not save his head, and leaping over would have resulted in the loss of legs instead. If the scythe hadn't threatened to hurt Rocket, the little black shards orbiting around it would have done the job instead.

"A surprising turn of events. But we are not beyond a calm discussion quite yet. Now then, Rocket. Cease your wanton slaying of my believers, and return the battery to me. Then we can discuss the matters of your friend here, as well as your own safe departure. "

"We're back to this again huh? I'm pretty convinced your words and promises are empty, Goldenbutt."

"My words? Perhaps they could be perceived as such. But my promises? Never. The only thing more fulfilling than a promise from me, is the Fulfilment itself."

"What the flark is the Fulfilment about-? You know what? Never mind. I'll just ask some guys I know. They're more trustworthy types, even if half of them are idiots."

Right on cue, one final space craft drifted down through the clouds and hovered a distance above the scene. It was much less fancy than the Church ships, dull in colour palate and patched up in places. In fact it looked like it would fall apart if you looked at it funny. On its right side, the name Milano was etched, a little detail that somehow made it seem more grand. It fired laser cannons upon Raker, who was forced to dissipate his construct scythe and find cover inside his ship. From the Milano's body, a tractor beam began to form. Rocket made a beeline for the unconscious Matthew, lifting him as best as he could, the weight lightening as though being on the moon, as the two were carried to safety.

Raker rushed back into his own ship. All caution and any semblance of care was out of the window. "Believers! Return to your ships and fire upon the Guardians of the Galaxy. They must not escape with the potential new Matriarch!"

But Raker's weapons were the only ones able to react in time. With Matthew and Rocket aboard, the Milano was able to twist and tilt nimbly out of the way of incoming fire, rising into the atmosphere and out of harm's way.