Yes, co-parenting had been a thing with Groot among the Guardians. The boy was the glue that had finally made them a real family, wasn't it? Sharing in his care until he was big enough to care for himself had been an exercise in cooperation, and it had brought them all closer, despite everyone's protestations to the contrary. Those bonds had already been in place during their battle with Ego, but there had been hints even before. It was a rocky road for them to become this ragtag family, but they had come out stronger because of it. Which is why Rocket was so raw about the whole deal. He had been the only survivor, or so he thought. Until now.
But he hadn't seen the others die. He'd heard about it second hand, and so he could hold on to some figment of denial. But Groot had been taken in front of him, almost close enough to touch, and he'd been too shocked to even scream and rage. He'd just sort of... wilted, mostly forgotten by the other survivors, each lost in their own grief.
Rocket could sense they were gathering looks, but he refused to acknowledge anyone that wasn't the boy shaped Groot in his arms. He let out a few wet sounding chuckles when Groot pulled back and joked about him smelling of dog. "I thought it was raboon. Raccoon, whatever," he mumbled, grinning at the miracle before him. "Don't think you're too big for me to bend you over my knee and spank you, brat!" he gruffed. "Wet dog. Hmpf."
But he couldn't help himself as he grinned and heaved a great big sigh as he allowed himself to feel hope again. "I'm really glad to be here too, Twig." He looked around the cafe once more, calmly now. "Where's Quill? And the others?" His eyes flew back to face Groot. His hands squeezed Groot's upper arms, then rubbed them up and down a bit. "Are they treating you right? Are you eating enough? You look skinny for a human."