Rocket (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
st_ripetail) wrote2018-06-11 08:37 pm
st_ripetail) wrote2018-06-11 08:37 pm
[Rocket and Pike] night terrors?
Rocket hated sleeping. He had to do it, of course, everybody did, but that didn't make it okay and tht didn't mean he did it any more than he had to. If he'd ever admitted it, and if anyone had ever asked him why, he'd've probably said something along the lines of 'fuck off'.
It was the nightmares, that was the problem. They didn't happen every time he slept, but they happened enough. They sent him back in time, and when he woke up all he could do was huddle and shake for a while. Longer than he could ever deal with. So most of the time he slept as little as possible, but every so often a body had to catch up.
He'd learned a long time ago that waking up not-alone helped. He was always alone in the dreams, reality got kicked into gear faster when there was someone else around, after. Lylla, fellow prisoners, Groot, Jemma. It didn't matter, for those purposes, who was risking getting their fingers bitten off by a panicked Rocket.
For Rocket, it did. There were only so many people he was okay with allowing to see him be a shivering weak wreck, even if it was just for a minute or two. In Gotham, there'd been a few, but in the Inn? Not Quill, because either the man would hold it over his head forever or he wouldn't, and either way was intolerable. Snow wouldn't mind and wouldn't chat, but Rocket liked how their relationship didn't include either of their pain. None of the kids, because they'd chat, or try to help, or whatever the fuck the eager-to-please tried to do with broken things.
That left two possibilities, and Rocket found himself outside and knocking on the door of one: Pike. They understood each other enough that Rocket thought she'd probably get it, and if not - well, he'd just cope.
It was the nightmares, that was the problem. They didn't happen every time he slept, but they happened enough. They sent him back in time, and when he woke up all he could do was huddle and shake for a while. Longer than he could ever deal with. So most of the time he slept as little as possible, but every so often a body had to catch up.
He'd learned a long time ago that waking up not-alone helped. He was always alone in the dreams, reality got kicked into gear faster when there was someone else around, after. Lylla, fellow prisoners, Groot, Jemma. It didn't matter, for those purposes, who was risking getting their fingers bitten off by a panicked Rocket.
For Rocket, it did. There were only so many people he was okay with allowing to see him be a shivering weak wreck, even if it was just for a minute or two. In Gotham, there'd been a few, but in the Inn? Not Quill, because either the man would hold it over his head forever or he wouldn't, and either way was intolerable. Snow wouldn't mind and wouldn't chat, but Rocket liked how their relationship didn't include either of their pain. None of the kids, because they'd chat, or try to help, or whatever the fuck the eager-to-please tried to do with broken things.
That left two possibilities, and Rocket found himself outside and knocking on the door of one: Pike. They understood each other enough that Rocket thought she'd probably get it, and if not - well, he'd just cope.