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The Last One Standing

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Rocket knew as soon as he saw Nebula stepping off the Benatar something was horribly wrong. His heart flipped in his chest, constricting against his lungs. He couldn’t say anything as he watched Nebula help a humie down the ramp, a humie that was most definitely not Quill.

There was no way. It couldn’t be possible not after Groot. They couldn’t possibly all be gone that was -that was bullshit!

 

The Captain and the other Avengers swarmed around the humie helping him down and dripping tears of relief. The air smelled salty. He hated it. It was all fucking shit ! How was it balanced that he lost everyone, everyone that he gave a shit about?

 

His paws stepped tentatively towards the Benatar, towards his home. It looked dull, lifeless. There was none of Quill’s stupid music echoing across the clearing with inappropriate joy or his cursing at the state of his ship. He felt like someone had taken the gravity of a black hole and set it on his chest. He was the mechanic how was he supposed to fix this?

 

The terrans were bickering in the background headed back to the compound probably. Rocket didn’t follow them. Instead, he found himself sitting on the cold metal of the landing ramp. He’d only made it that fair; he couldn’t make his body step inside. As long as he was out here, for all he knew his family could still be bickering inside too stupid and careless to come out here and reassure him.

 

His ears perked up as he heard a faint mechanical whirling settle next to him. He glanced to the side to find Nebula’s blue form at his side.

 

She didn’t say anything. He didn’t either. A cool firm sensation wrapped around his paw. He glanced down to find Nebula’s prosthetic hand clasping his.

 

Rocket didn’t have the energy to spit or hiss at her for touching him. Besides, the firm weight was oddly grounding. Hell, she probably needed this more than he did or at least if anyone asked that’s what he was telling them. If Nebula decided to stab him for that, well, it’s not like he had anything left to lose.

 

There was a faint splat. Rocket looked down to see a droplet of moisture on the landing ramp, probably Thor. It’d pretty much been storming nonstop over the compound for the last three weeks, the sun hadn’t shown through since Thanos had snapped. The clouds followed them everywhere the perfect backdrop to their despair. He sighed, look at him spewing fucking poetry.

 

He felt something wet roll down his snout. He reached up with his other paw to bat it away only for it to come away dripping. Rocket blinked noticing the slight blur in his vision for the first time.

 

Oh, he was crying. When did he start crying?

 

Nebula said nothing and that was somehow better. Rocket couldn’t say how long they sat there before he found his voice. He had to know though, it was no use pretending, not when the painful voice in the back of his mind was already screaming the worst. He needed confirmation.

 

“All of them? Even Gamora?” His voice cracked out.

 

Nebula froze, her grip tightening around his paw before she gave a stiff nod.  “I’m sorry Rocket. What about Groot?”

 

He shook his head and looked down. He could feel the tension in Nebula’s body, whether it was grief or rage he couldn’t say.

 

“What are we going to do now?” He asked.   

 

“Kill Thanos.”

 

Rocket held back a snort as if she hadn’t been saying that for years. Look where her plan had gotten them now. His family dead, half the universe dead, and Thanos had fucked off to who knows where with the infinity stones. Yeah, that was a real viable plan. He held it in though, he was too drained to start a fight with her right now, not when she was one of the only people in the galaxy he knew that was still alive.

 

He needed something to do, something to run his paws along and build, something to take his mind off of the growing emptiness in his chest. Something to fix this.

 

“What the hell did you do to our ship?”

 

“The fuel cells were damaged on Titan. We had to make some last minute adjustments and even that wasn’t enough. For the last two weeks, we’ve been floating in space, slowly running out of supplies. If that Kree woman wouldn’t have found us the Terran would be dead and I would still be slowly starving.”

 

Rocket began to catalog what he needed to get the ship up and running. If the fuel cells were damaged he’d need replacement energy, hopefully, something on this mudball could substitute if not he’d have to threaten that glowy lady into taking the ship and him to the nearest civilized planet.

 

“Come show me what you and that Terran messed with. I don’t trust anyone else working on our ship.” Rocket pulled his legs under him to stand up, his tail swishing anxiously behind him.

 

Nebula paused before she reached into her pocket and pulled out something small and square. She pushed it into Rocket’s paw.

 

“I found it on the ship. I figured you wouldn’t want anyone else touching it. I know how much it meant to your crew.”

 

Rocket stared down at the black surface of the Zune. The headphones were a tangled mess around the device. He clutched it close to his chest. All he had left was his family was a series of broken objects. What the hell was he gonna do now?