Peter sat beside Groot and Rocket, the hour of the evening was getting late. Rocket curled up against Groot, folding in on himself in much the same way that all furry creatures seem to do when at rest. Plant and animal always got along well, or at least it seemed that way to Peter. He had not too terribly long ago gotten into the habit of humming and singing Groot off to bed, much as he was doing now.

The tradition had only recently started. When Groot was carried back on board as not much more than a twig, it had been Peter's main instinct just to comfort him, and he did the only way he really knew how. The lyrics from many of the songs his mother had left to him were pouring from his lips for Groot, their resident plant man. Although the ritual had originally sprung from Peter's awkwardness and inability to comfortably hold a one-sided conversation with the member of his team, he had grown to really enjoy the habit.

Peter never really thought of his voice as anything special. Sure, he seemed to have a minor talent, and Groot always seemed to enjoy it, but he never really pictured it as unique to himself or to his planet. The fact that Rocket always managed to sneak into the semi private concert was thought to Peter as more wanting for Groot's company rather than for want of his vocal skills.

Rocket yawned as he fell asleep, his companion long ahead of him. Peter couldn't help but grin to himself a little as he got up to leave, sighing as he lifted himself from the weathered looking chair, in the small, weathered looking room. Everything in his little ship was a tad worn down, but he liked it that way. The used and lived in space was definitely a home.

He trusted that everyone else was already down for the night, as he tipped toed past a sleeping Drax on the couch and into his now much smaller bedroom. He had recently curtained it in half to give Gomorrah a higher sense of privacy since they had all taken up residency on the small ship. He peaked his head over the top, stepping on his toes to see across the line from which the sheet hung, to see Gomorrah sleeping softly on the cushions that formed her bed. He smiled a little wider, and a little softer knowing that everyone looked to be at peace. After all, they had just gotten back from one hell of a ride.