Thick fog surrounded him as though he were drowning in an ocean. Ashen trees with skeletal branches whipped the sky as the chorus of the wind howled ominously in the background. The sky was grayish—a darker silver with the hint of rain incoming.

A fervent chuckle whooshes by with the wind that brushed his fur. It felt almost like a caress, the touch of the wind. There was longing with him—an urge to chase the laughter that either taunted him or called him.

The first steps in the fog were strides in clouds. The cold went past his suit and fur, biting his skin hard. Unknown objects went under his feet. His steps were guesses to what he couldn’t see but he went forward without hesitation.

And then it was dark. His feet parted with the ground as everything became blank in the black. He was gliding in the air—the sensation so very familiar… until he was descending rapidly.

Rocket woke up as though as he fell from thousands of feet. Groot was already awake before the bed of the raccoon in the quarter they shared. He looked at Rocket with confusion and worry, jumbling his expression.

“I am Groot?” he asked and bent down to meet the raccoon face to face.

“It was nothing…” Rocket panted. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and groaned. Thereafter, he slipped out of his blankets and walked out of the room, leaving Groot before he could say anything else.

Rocket walked past Peter as though as the Terran wasn’t there at all. The raccoon didn’t even bat an eye to Peter as though the man was invisible or possibly nothing.

Peter turned his body toward Rocket as he watched the grumpy Procyon make the corner of the hall. Groot was following Rocket, almost bumping onto Peter along the way.

“What’s his problem?” Peter asked Groot.

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

Peter planted his hands on his hips and sighed. “Again?” he asked, “As in exactly the same dream again?”

Groot nodded.

The duo stood in silence for a moment. Ever since Rocket woke up that day, he’s never been the same. Being much quieter was actually pretty comfortable for Peter but it felt dangerously unnatural. On the times when Rocket did break silence, he was bursting—too wild to be talked out of reason.

Rocket stationed below deck to his working table. He kept his area messy of piles of motor parts and other junk. He worked on a small robot with a wind up key attached in its back. The clogs that made it function were exposed through the gaps of its joints and Rocket enjoyed winding it and watching it creak as its last turns make it move. He had no idea why it entertained him so much… it just did. Watching it had an amusement he never quite appreciated before.

Groot came in from the stairs, turning toward Rocket with the same face the raccoon had woken up to. Groot made his way toward Rocket’s working area where Rocket was slumped on his table, face cushioned by his hands as he watched the small robot move creakily.

“I…am Groot,” Groot pulled out a crate which he sat on.

Rocket straightened his back, picking up the small robot. “Clockwork tech is very basic, buddy…” Rocket sighed, “Anyone could make it.”

“I am Groot?”

“Where did I get the idea?” Rocket repeated. He didn’t quite think of it before. Where did he get the idea? Rocket opened his mouth to reply but found that he didn’t know what to say. His jaws paused to open as he realized that nothing could be put to words to explain his sudden interest in clockwork technology.

“I’ve wanted to ask the same thing,” Peter joined in, appearing from the stairs.

Rocket’s brows furrowed to the center of his face and he placed the small robot on his table but didn’t let go of it. He let out an exasperated sigh.

“What’s it to you, Star-munch?” Rocket snarled.

“I just wanted to know why you’ve been so cranky lately,” Peter said.

Rocket rolled his eyes, pretending to work on the piles of junk he kept on his table. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peter sighed. “Look, Rocket, if something is troubling you, you’re free to tell us. You don’t have to hide it.”

“Mind your own business, Quill and I’ll mind mine,” Rocket growled. “If you’re so keen on helping me, start by shutting up. You’re fricking annoying.” Rocket got up and grabbed whatever junk he could reach for on the table. Past Quill, he walked but Star-Lord blocked him with a hand.

“Why are you being like this?” Peter whispered and slightly pushed Rocket a few steps back. “Something’s bothering you… I know there is.”

Rocket looked up to Peter, matching his gaze. “Aye…something is and you don’t have to fricking know about it.” Rocket walked past Peter and went upper deck, leaving him and Groot.

Peter looked up, as confused as he had ever been and then looked at Groot. “Aye?” Peter repeated, “First time I’ve heard him say that word.”

***

Rocket wasn’t sure if he was haunted by dreams or nightmares. As far as the other guardians were concerned, Rocket was suffering from post-traumatic stress episodes. For the raccoon, however, it wasn’t that. The dreams he kept on reliving night after night—it was bliss. Lost was the perfect term to describe his situation every night on that place yet it felt so familiar…so completing.

Rocket only told Groot about what he exactly dreamed about but out of Groot’s worry, he’s been sharing the details with Peter and the others. Peter was concerned most of all and didn’t know what to do about his acerbic friend.

One day, Peter confronted Rocket about what was really happening. Below deck, on the raccoon’s messy table, Peter approached.

Rocket was busy tinkering. Peter guessed that the raccoon was making another bomb or another weapon but the raccoon was busy making clockwork robots. He already had a collection standing idly by the corner of his table.

Peter sat on a crate and the raccoon only looked at him for a second before returning back to his work.

“What are you making?” Peter began.

“I know you’re here for something,” Rocket said. “Spit it out, Quill. I’m busy and don’t want to be disturbed.”

Peter swallowed and munched his lips. “Alright… that went more straightforward than I anticipated,” he coughed to adjust his voice. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m doing this because I’m worried about you.”

Rocket sighed and dropped whatever he was doing—slamming his tools on the table before folding his arms in front of his chest. “Your worry is wasted on me and your worry costs my time so why don’t you just run along?”

Peter swallowed. He bit back, thinking of the raccoon’s wellbeing above his temper. “You’re not telling Groot anything and he’s your closest friend—”

“And you expect to get something from me not even Groot knows?” Rocket interjected. “Something’s bothering me, you’re gonna say that and straight on, I’m gonna tell you that something is but I’m going to tell you two things, Quill: I don’t know what’s bothering me other than you and even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why?” Peter asked the moment Rocket finished.

Rocket gritted his teeth. That single word sounded so provoking either because he didn’t know the answer himself or he didn’t want to open up with Peter.

Peter asked again. “Why?”

Rocket didn’t want to answer but the longer he stayed quiet, the more annoying Peter got, asking over and over again until Rocket had enough.

“I don’t know either!” Rocket bursts, clawing the side of his head as though he was pulling the skin down. “Ever since I woke up that day, something is missing and I don’t know what!” Rocket heaved in a breath and let it out. “I shouldn’t even care about it but here I am, tormented for weeks now by something I don’t understand…by something I don’t even know!”

Peter saw the agony in Rocket’s eyes. The raccoon was crying and hurting himself, pulling his ears down and kicking whatever was in his mid. It was a first—witnessing Rocket lose himself and it was miserable. He didn’t like watching the tough raccoon crumble.

“There,” Rocket wiped his nose, “I told ya. Now what? What’s your concern gonna do?” Rocket jumped out of his platform and was headed upper deck but Peter stopped him on his tracks.

“Groot told me about your dreams…” Peter said.

“So?”

“You find yourself surrounded by fog in a dead forest with black trees…” Peter began, “A year ago, you told us you got lost in an unknown planet which description exactly suited your dream. Do you think your dream and that place are somehow connected?”

Rocket only shrugged.

“What did happen when you got lost there?” Peter asked.

Rocket looked down… recalling the event. “I was sucked in a wormhole that brought me to that planet. It was in another universe. My ship landed in the middle of that forest and I scoured the area to find anything I could use to repair my ship.”

“And what did you find?”

“I found a crate lying somewhere near the crash zone. It had all the necessary parts so I fixed my ship and returned home.”

Peter was quiet for a moment. “Just like that? You just found a crate in the middle of a forest?”

“It could have been anybody’s,” Rocket wiped his nose. “I didn’t care. I needed it so I used it.” He walked out.

***

There were times when Rocket would go out. The other guardians didn’t know where Rocket would go just that, after his return, the raccoon would be extremely tired and less interactive. Peter and the others were concerned so they spied on the raccoon one time when he went out again.

Peter tracked the ship Rocket used and placed a camera he was able to navigate remotely. The raccoon jumped from flashpoint to flashpoint until he arrived at a planet similar to Terra. There were trees, stretching tall to the sky and vegetation reaching as far as the eye could see.

Peter and the others watched keenly as Rocket landed his ship and went out. The guardians expected something mysterious the raccoon was about to do.

Rocket climbed a tall tree and sat on its branch, feet dangling. He just sat and looked at the sky. Not much could be gathered from Rocket’s expressions—he looked neutral the whole time. Peter and the others waited for something they didn’t know but expected but the raccoon just sat for hours until it was night in the planet. That was when the raccoon returned to his ship and was travelling back to the others.

When they asked where Rocket’s been, the raccoon grunted, saying, “Somewhere…”

***

Rocket dug among the pile of junk he retrieved from Knowhere about a year ago. He was emptying the crate because he wanted to place all the clockwork robots he made in it. He picked up item by item, piling them around him until he noticed an orb lying at the bottom of the crate with a paper beneath it.

Rocket recognized the orb as something similar to what the infinity stone of power was contained in. He had speculations but it was just that…nothing he could really confirm unless he opens it. He took the note inside his hand, weathered over time. Rustic blots collected on the sides but didn’t blur out the text, thank goodness.

If you’re reading this, it means you found the orb. An infinity gem is contained inside. If you’re wondering how it winded up in your crate…a cat put it there. Don’t wonder how or when… best to just leave it that way.

I’d tell you we already met but we never did. I remember you though from memories of things that never happened. It’s senseless, I know but… for all the love you gave me, for the happiness, for the pleasure you’ve given me and everything else… thank you.

Fairfarren, Rocket.

Rocket flipped the paper back and forth, hoping to find more but found nothing less. The voice that read the note inside his mind—it wasn’t his. He was surprised of the familiarity and he kept on reading the note over and over again just listening to that posh voice but the voice was lost the more he thought about it. In the end, he was just left with something to haunt him even more—who wrote the note? And why did he speak as though as Rocket loved him?

Peter walked in on the raccoon in tears.

“Quill…” Rocket swallowed, “What’s a cat?”

***

The guardians were in Xandar. After discovering an infinity gem idly sitting inside Rocket’s crate for a year, they had to do what was right and let the Nova Corp contain the artifact. Peter and Gamora discussed how the orb came into their possession although it was supposed to be Rocket’s job. The raccoon didn’t want to be bothered as he kept on rereading the note again and again.

Drax leaned on a wall with Rocket just beside him. Groot watched curiously as Rocket clung on to the weathered page as if it meant the world to him.

“Why do you keep that piece of paper?” Drax asked.

“I don’t know. What’s it to you?” Rocket returned.

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

Drax laughed. “A love letter? Truly surprising that an obnoxious little beast like you would get affection from another being.”

Rocket looked at Drax sharply. “It’s not a love letter…” he mumbled.

“I… am Groot.”

Drax’s laughter died out suddenly. “My apologies… I did not know.”

“Nobody died,” Rocket groaned and then added in a while… “Well, I’m not sure. I hope so…”

***

The guardians were headed to Contraxia on Quill’s order. Star-Lord claimed to have figured out where the source of Rocket’s crankiness was coming from and he knew exactly what Rocket needed to feel relaxed and be back with his self.

Groot, Drax, Gamora and Peter grouped up, leaving the raccoon alone in his area with the piece of paper he protected.

“Alright,” Peter said, “I think the reason why Rocket’s feeling this way is because he’s lonely and we need to get that loneliness off him.”

“How do you suggest we do that?” Drax asked, “Loneliness isn’t tangible. We cannot simply take it off him.”

“Not physically, Drax.” Gamora said and then looked at Peter. “What do you suggest we do in cheering him up?”

“Pleasure robots.” Peter tried to contain his smile. “I already set our coordinates to Contraxia. He’s gonna be so surprised—”

“I am Groot…” Groot trailed off.

“I agree with Groot.” Gamora folded her arms and then turned to Peter. “It isn’t what the raccoon needs.”

“How can it not be what Rocket needs?” Peter returned. “One week without touching anyone, I feel really cranky…” Peter bit his lower lip as Gamora’s eyes widened on him. “I mean… that was before I met you… which is also why I’ve been so cranky lately.”

“Why would I care about your affairs?”

“Because of that unspoken thing between us…” Peter trailed off.

“Peter this isn’t about us… this is about Rocket,” Gamora sighed.

Peter nodded his head and then looked over to the raccoon who was unaware of their conversation, tranced by that piece of paper. He turned back to Gamora. “I’ve been trying to help him ever since he changed. Peter’s tone was low. “I’ve been trying to approach him, ask him what was wrong, try and get inside him. I tried and I’m still trying. What about you, Gamora? What did you do other than ignore him all the time?”

Gamora swallowed. It wasn’t at all like what Peter made it sound like to be. She was concerned for Rocket as was Peter and Groot and Drax but unlike them, she doesn’t act if she doesn’t know. “If you help Rocket by approaching him, I help by ignoring him.”

“How is that helping?” Peter asked which Gamora answered immediately.

“I’m giving him space,” Gamora hissed. “He’s thinking of what’s bothering him—”

“Is he? To me, he looks like he’s just reading,” Drax intercepted.

“Shut up, Drax,” Gamora almost yelled. She continued, “Anytime, he could figure out what’s bothering him and I don’t want to be the person that would interrupt his focus when he does.”

Peter planted his hands on his hips. “Alright… what do you think he needs?”

Gamora walked to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. “A drink and some time alone. We’ll go to Contraxia and find a quiet pub. We’ll station away from him and let him drink and think.”

“I…am Groot,” Groot agreed.

“Very well then,” Peter said.

“Could we find a pub with a nice gambling spot?” Drax followed.

***

They chose the quietest pub they could find. Drunks were either quiet or noisy. It takes only a good eye to find which bar contains what type of drunks. The pub was a two storey building—seeming like an inn secondarily.

The guardians entered, eyes exploring every direction.

The owner, whom they guessed was the fat lady behind the counter, welcomed them with a waving hand. Her smile was frivolous and her face, inviting as though as she barely had any customers. With a pleasure house nearby, her business doesn’t really stand out. But it was hardly the reason why her face seemed so lively.

She was looking at Rocket the whole time—her smile solely on the raccoon.

“Come,” she invited, “What can I get for ya? Ale?”

Rocket jumped on a barstool by the counter. “Anything that dulls the mind,” Rocket said.

“Ale it is then,” the fat woman strode as if she was standing on a wheeled platform.

Peter and Gamora went upstairs—probably to a balcony where they could dance with nobody seeing. Drax found a group in the far corner of the room gambling with cards and he demanded that they teach him how it worked. Groot was beside Rocket, smiling at the raccoon.

“I am Groot,” he said.

Rocket nodded, “Just make sure that Drax doesn’t bet any large units.” Thereafter, Groot joined Drax.

The fat lady, swooshed in front of Rocket, placing a mug of ale in front of the raccoon. Rocket peeked beneath her, eager about the platform she stood in but saw nothing but her complicated lower half of cybernetic technology.

“You know, cybernetic feet don’t cost many units,” Rocket said. “You could get a pair for ten-thousand.”

The fat lady chuckled. “Walking isn’t how I go,” she said in a funny accent. “Y’know, I’ve been used to wheels for years that never happened.”

Rocket took what the woman said figuratively and paid no mind to it. “It would be good for running on flat surfaces,” Rocket said. “On snowy grounds like outside—useless.”

“Aye…it is…” she nodded her head and bent down to grab a tablecloth. She began wiping mugs.

Rocket looked at the woman for the last time. For some reason, the woman had the same vibe as the letter he kept or perhaps it was the similar enigma. The raccoon lifted the mug of ale and sipped—there he stopped as the taste spread across his tongue. It wasn’t that good of a drink… Rocket’s tasted better but it tasted familiar. And with that familiarity was a sensation that made his heart race. Something hurtful blocked his throat, preventing him from swallowing any more.

He set the mug on the table, recalling where he’s tasted it before but nothing came to mind.

“What’s the matter, lad?” the fat lady asked, “Are you not an ale fella?”

“No, no…” Rocket coughed to expel the hideous sensation balling inside his throat. “I-it’s good…” he stammered and then took the mug and chugged the ale, finishing it in seconds. Thereafter, he ordered another.

***

Rocket and the fat lady, whom Rocket found later on was named Lourdes, became good friends. The guardians became a frequent visitor of Contraxia—to the same pub. Rocket always seated on the same spot, ordering mugs of ale to pass the night as he conversed eagerly with Lourdes.

The other guardians were happy for Rocket. The raccoon became much better and reverted back to his old self. Rocket returned to being the acerbic little jerk they all knew and it felt so right. It was the obtrusive rudeness Rocket possessed that made him who he was and not his brooding a few weeks back.

On another occasion, the guardians went to Contraxia once again for another night in the pub. The moment Peter and the others walked through the door, they all went to their favorite areas. Drax and Groot became good friends with the gamblers and played cards with them whenever they were in the pub. Peter and Gamora danced on the second floor balcony, working out on their unspoken thing.

Rocket’s place was on the barstool with Lourdes. This night however, was different. Rocket was stopped on his tracks when a certain group of people and animals were huddled by his favorite area. All the barstools were occupied with cheerful laughs and joyful toasts.

Lourdes laughed with the group and Rocket felt out of place. It could be Lourdes’s friends for all he knew. Rocket was about to turn back when he heard Lourdes’s voice call him.

“Rocket, join us!” she yelled.

The cheerful noises subsided as Rocket turned back. “I don’t want to interrupt your celebration,” Rocket said, “I’ll just occupy table one. A mug of ale for me, Lourdes.”

“Nonsense.” Lourdes wheeled out of her counter and toward Rocket. He touched Rocket behind the head, slightly pushing him to join the group until the raccoon was just steps before them.

Rocket whispered to Lourdes, “My favorite seat is taken,” he said.

“Is this your favorite seat?” a blue cat was looking over his shoulder to Rocket. “Take it,” he said.

Rocket opened his mouth to disagree but was stopped when the feline floated in the air.

“I don’t really have to sit… I just wanted to,” he smiled at Rocket.

Rocket climbed the seat.

Awkward gazes locked on him. The only one that seemed to avoid eye contact with Rocket was the blue cat floating on the other side of the counter. Everything became weighty when Lourdes left to retrieve a mug of ale for Rocket.

Lourdes came back, placing the mug before Rocket.

“Why’re you all quiet?” Lourdes chuckled. “I think I know…” Lourdes trailed off. “Rocket, these are my friends.” Lourdes began introducing them. She started with the goggled white rabbit beside Rocket.

“This fella is Mctwisp ‘ere,” Lourdes said, patting the rabbit on the back.

Mctwisp laughed sheepishly and waved awkwardly at Rocket. “Pleasure to meet you…” he stretched a hand which Rocket ignored.

“On your other side,” Lourdes pointed, “Is James von Hare.”

Rocket turned to the vested hair with multiple gun holsters at the belt. James smiled a buck teeth smile at Rocket which the raccoon returned with a simple curt nod.

A small dormouse scuttled on the counter, stationing beside Rocket’s mug as if to have a closer look on the raccoon.

“This here is Mallymkun,” Lourdes said.

“I believe we have un-met already,” Mallymkun laughed joyously and scurried away.

Lourdes pointed to a hatted cyborg behind Mctwisp’s barstool. “That there is Tarrant,” she said and then gestured to twins behind James’s barstool. “Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.”

“Ellow,” the twins said at the same time.

“Iracebeth and Mirana.” Behind Rocket. “And Bayard and Baeley.” Not far on the counter.

Rocket gulped the mug of ale to ease the awkwardness when he remembered that Lourdes forgot to introduce the last one.

“What about—” Rocket pointed midair to where the floating cat was but found that he wasn’t there anymore.

“I believe it’s time for us to go,” Mctwisp pulled out a pocket watch and jumped off the barstool. One by one, they bade their farewell to Rocket until it was just Lourdes and Rocket on the counter.

“They’re a very fine bunch,” Lourdes chortled and winked at Rocket. “I know y’don’t make friends very much but you’ll become very close to them as you never have.”

Rocket chuckled. “There we go again with your never-haves. Seriously, Lourdes, you gotta explain that to me. From the first time you said that, I didn’t quite get what it really meant.”

“It’s not a figure of speech, lad,” Lourdes smiled, “It means what it means.”

Rocket was about to ask something but the woman dashed out of the counter and out of eye view.

Rocket sighed and drank his ale.

“It’s very literal…” a voice sounding posh whispered.

Rocket looked around him but found that no one was there. Grey smoke wafted on a barstool beside Rocket and from it, materialized the blue cat from earlier.

Somehow, it didn’t seem so surprising for Rocket as if he’s already seen it before but he was sure that it was his first time seeing something like that.

“Your friends are gone, shouldn’t you be too?”

“They won’t leave until first light,” the cat replied. “But I understand if you want some time alone—”

“Stay,” Rocket said firmly, almost sounding like an order. He didn’t anticipate himself to say that. Perhaps it was the alcohol. Just a while back, the strangers all shared the same vibe as Lourdes’s. They all seemed familiar but not quite so.

The cat stayed. Rocket didn’t speak to him. They sat in silence, with nothing else they could really do. There was no awkwardness but rather familiarity as if they were friends.

An hour of silence, the cat finally decided to leave. He jumped out of the barstool.

“It was nice sitting—”

“It wasn’t,” Rocket interjected, “Don’t lie. We didn’t talk or do anything.”

“No…” the cat whispered, “It really was nice being with you again.”

Rocket turned down to the cat. “Again? I don’t recall being with you before.”

“Because it’s your first time being with me,” the cat said and faked a laugh. “Don’t believe words from a stranger. I could be messing with you right now. Fairfarren to you and your friends.”

Rocket’s ears perked up to the word. He jumped out of the barstool and followed the cat behind. Before the cat could walk out, Rocket stopped him on his tracks.

“What did you say?” he asked.

The cat half-turned. “Fair travels,” the cat turned to the exit once again.

“No,” Rocket protested, “The exact word.”

The blue cat swallowed. He fully turned toward Rocket and walked to him. Slightly tipping up, he met the raccoon’s ear and whispered, “Fairfarren.”

Rocket’s arms embraced the cat out of reflex after hearing the word. His mind was a storm—he couldn’t bring reason to what his body was doing. He just found himself doing it. “You wrote the letter…” Rocket gasped.

The cat returned Rocket’s embrace, crying behind the raccoon. “Aye… I did…” his voice sounded hoarse.

“Why do I seem like I know you?” Rocket’s voice became hoarse as well. The cat was familiar—so familiar and yet not. The words written on the note were lies for all Rocket knew. He didn’t recall loving a cat or meeting one until now. And yet somehow, all those times he found himself believing those lies.

“Because you knew me but never did,” the cat embraced Rocket and nuzzled his face on Rocket’s neck.

“You sound like Lourdes,” Rocket remarked sadly. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

The cat withdrew from Rocket. He stepped back and wiped his tears away. “As I’ve said, it means what it means.”

“Okay…” Rocket said, “I’ll try to understand it that way. You’re someone I knew but never did… it’s so vague I can’t—” Rocket choked on his own breath. “It’s got to do with that infinity stone, isn’t it?”

The cat bit his lip and nodded up and down slowly.

Rocket laughed wryly. “So a bunch of things happened but never did?” Rocket thought. “Then that’s what you meant with us meeting but not at all?”

“Yes—”

“Then why didn’t you look for me?” Rocket said through gritted teeth. He was angry and confused but he projected his anger even more.

The cat in front of him was a stranger—Rocket didn’t know the cat’s name, who he is or what he’s like but at the same time Rocket felt like he did know the cat. That was the very source of his anger and confusion—he felt concerned with someone whose name he didn’t even know.

“I did…” the cat whispered, wiping his nose. “I searched for you and when I found you…something didn’t feel right. I know you through things that never happened… and I know that you wouldn’t recognize me. You have no idea how much I feared approaching you and you would give me the same look you’re giving me right now.”

Rocket sighed and looked down. “You’re right… I don’t know you but you had something I don’t,” Rocket lifted his head and locked his eyes with the cat. He continued, “I was haunted by dreams and sensations even until now. It’s like my body knows something my mind doesn’t—”

“Rocket—”

“And I could only ease it by trying to find some answers!” Rocket raised his voice. “Clockwork… it’s the closest my mind’s ever been comforted until you.”

The cat swallowed as Rocket ceased to silence. “Cheshire…” he said.

Rocket’s brows centered to his face in confusion.

“My name is… Cheshire,” the cat swallowed heavily. He closed in on Rocket, “A-and I love you so much it broke me when I made the decision to reset everything that happened so we could have our dead back…”

Cheshire thumped his forehead against Rocket’s chest and the raccoon didn’t mind. “I’m sorry that I left remnants that haunted you. I’m sorry I only said farewell on a piece of paper. This time, I could properly do it.”

Cheshire stepped back and opened his mouth to say goodbye but the raccoon didn’t let him.

“Don’t…” Rocket said. “I’ll never know what happened that never did and I may not know entirely who you are but…” Rocket pulled Cheshire inside his embrace. “You’re already familiar. A part of me wants you so…stay.”

One word never sounded like a million before. Cheshire was surprised to the point of regret. It made him regret the day he found Rocket and didn’t approach. The infinity gem wasn’t perfect after all. It may have erased everything that happened but it wasn’t able to erase it completely. It was there with Rocket—the people, the things, the scenarios—all inside his mind but were nameless.

And it needn’t names for it to matter.

Cheshire’s sob turned to a subtle chortle and then he was laughing against the raccoon’s chest, inside his arms. He floated in the air, carrying Rocket with him.

“Let’s do the thing we never did,” Cheshire pecked Rocket on the lips.

The raccoon had no idea of what Cheshire was referring to but he lost composure when the cat kissed him on the lips. He stammered and blushed but couldn’t hide away his face.

“Oh look…” Cheshire laughed, “It’s the same expression you never used when we first kissed but never did.”

Rocket hushed him with a kiss in return. “Alright that’s enough. I’m getting confused. Let’s just do that thing you said earlier. What was that thing?”

“You’ll find out,” Cheshire winked and they glided up the second floor of the inn—to the room Lourdes had been preparing since she left the counter.

The night was young and so were they.