[ closed ] there’s a room where the light won’t find you

[nostalgiabomb]

who: Star-Lord Peter Quill and Gamora
what: when training goes wrong OR yer a wizard, Peter
when: early January
where: Perimeter Guard training facility
warnings: none yet!


[ It’s not that Peter isn’t a good fighter, really.

Because he is. He’s scrappy, and he’s tenacious, and he’s not afraid to fight dirty when he has to. The Ravagers taught him well, in that regard, if it could even be called teaching – how to time his shots, when to go for the nuts, shit like that. It’s worked well for him, for a long while. It’s how he’s gotten by for twenty-some-odd years out in the black, working on instinct and reflex and, when those failed him, a healthy application of gunfire and low blows. For the line of work he usually performed, it was fine.

Now, though, he’s saving galaxies and going up against zealots who might as well be as immovable as mountains. Now he’s going up against psychos who were practically immortal, who could manipulate the world around them to meet their whims. And one of these days, they’re going to go up against a megalomaniac with armies at his command, with warriors and assassins and about a zillion instruments of death at his fingertips.

So... you know. Jabbing out someone’s eyes probably isn’t going to get Peter very far, in the grand scheme of things.

If he’s honest, he’s not entirely sure what training up will do for him. It’ll make him faster, sure. Stronger, too, probably. But if he gets caught-out alone with one of Thanos’ generals? One of his other so-called children? Or, hell, the Mad Titan himself?

Being able to throw a slightly better punch isn’t going to help him much, is it?

But it was important to Gamora, for some reason, and the look of disappointment she had shot his way when he had initially refused had been like a stab in the gut. So here they are now: a former assassin and a former thief, training for a battle that may or may not happen, in the Perimeter Guard’s training facility. For once, they have the area to themselves – which is a goddamn blessing, because Gamora is basically beating the shit out of him. But, like, in a playful way. The sort of controlled, measured attacks of a cat toying with a mouse.

If he wasn’t so completely sure that Gamora was on his side, this time, he’d be flashing back to that sunny day on Xandar and running for the blasters he had left on a nearby bench.

And as it has almost every time before, it ends with Peter cursing as he hits the floor. ]

Comments

[nostalgiabomb]

[ His shoulders drop, gaze darting away again.

Gamora has a point. She always has a point, but like a lot of those times, Peter doesn't want to admit it.

He folds his arms again, hands tucking against his sides.

Weakly, ]

I seriously tried to take your head off, back there.

[ And that's what terrifies him the most about all of this, how out of control, how angry he felt – enough that he had thrown all of his strength at her without a second thought. ]

[godslay]

And you didn't.

[ Tried, sure, but he didn't manage it. ]

I'm unharmed, and you extinguished the light.

[ She turns on the couch to face him properly, folding her leg up under herself. ]

I'm fine. Really.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He looks at her, his doubt written on every inch of his face. ]

What if it gets worse?

[ Like this is a sickness, rather than a gift. Like this is something festering inside him. ]

I don't— I don't wanna end up hurting you.

[godslay]

[ Something twists in her chest with the look on his face. That genuine concern, that fear that he might hurt her—

It aches sharply.

She reaches out to set her palm gently on his cheek, thumb brushing under his eye. ]

If it worsens, we will deal with it.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Despite himself, he leans into her touch, eyes slipping shut. He takes a shuddering breath, head bowing again before he gives a quick, nervous nod. ]

Yeah. Okay.

[ He hesitates for a long moment before finally letting himself reach up, covering her hand with his – and even then, his touch is just barely there. ]

Play it by ear, then?

[godslay]

Play it by ear.

[ Repeated to be reassuring, and she's glad to feel his hand over hers – light as it is. It's something stepping away from how anxious he'd been to keep the danger tucked away.

She leans in, resting her forehead lightly against his. ]

You are not doing this alone.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The reassurance makes his chest tighten, makes something stick in his throat, and his touch becomes a little more firm against her hand.

He licks his lips, and though his voice seems to have skittered off somewhere, he manages to whisper thickly, ]

Thanks, Gamora.

[godslay]

[ The faintest of smiles finally creeps onto her face, and she nudges her nose against his. It's affectionate, more than anything, and he's the only person who gets to see it. ]

You don't need to thank me.