( closed ) he's a jukebox hero.

[godslay]

who: Gamora and Peter Quill
what: Beetles and crystals and dreams – oh my!
when: 20 January thru... later.
where: AROUND?
warnings: Beetle murder and later, genocide and trauma.



[ It's not every day the Perimeter Guard gets to deal with enormous beetles.

Giant monsters? Sure, most days.

These ones just happen to be especially large and bug-like and capable of doing far more damage than anyone is comfortable with. They breach the Abandoned City's walls before the Guard can respond, but in a matter of hours, it's all hands on deck. Peter and Gamora aren't part of the force that will push forward in the experimental mechs, but Gamora isn't fazed. They've dealt with unnecessarily big creatures in the past – back home and in the Quarantine – and despite the size of the herd of beasts, the Guard is fortunate enough to have numbers of its own.

So for now, they're playing ground support.

The Abandoned City is simultaneously an excellent location – given its vast and varied battlefields – and also wildly inconvenient depending on where they meet the beetles. Now, they find themselves pushing back against the insects on the front of a boardwalk on a riverside beach, caught between the water and empty, rundown buildings. Some of the behemoths simply step through the river, others knock aside old houses, smashing structures that dare stand near their horns.

One of the herd rears up as Gamora and her team advance. They're attempting to take out a leg, maybe hobble it or slow its progress, but it brings its mighty weight down and forces them all to scatter as a ruin collapses around their heads. Shouted commands, quick orders to move, take cover, get out of the damn way! and Gamora dives out of the path of a falling sheet of concrete just in time to avoid being crushed. She can't see Peter, can't see the rest of her squad through the dust in the air and the chaos around them, and just as she's trying to make sense of her surroundings, another creature swings its formidable horn low, sweeping over the riverbank and crushing a stretch of rickety wooden planks that line the boardwalk.

She darts forward again, ducking behind what used to be a storefront, now reduced to crumbling cement and glass. She grits her teeth, looking above her for a sign of another massive bug, but—

She's clear – at least for a second.

Her fingers are curled around the hilt of her sword, and she leans around the corner of the broken building, looking for anyone nearby, and—

The familiar and distinct sound of Peter's blasters. ]

Peter!

[ Shouted out across the chaos, through the debris and constant destruction of the beetles pushing relentlessly forward. ]

Comments

[godslay]

[ Gamora reaches out to help Peter push himself upright, supporting his back and easing him into a sitting position. ]

Here, lean your weight on me.

[ She could also carry him, but she doubts that will be necessary. ]

We'll get you into bed.

[ Though it might be a good idea to let Peter sleep by himself, considering how sore he must be. That way, he can have the whole bed without making room for Gamora, but... that would still be weird, at this point. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Sounds awesome.

[ Similarly bitten out, and when they get Peter to his feet, he starts to wonder if maybe he shouldn't just climb right back into this stupid bed.

But, no, his choice has been made, and they'll surely need the bed for injuries more serious than his. He pauses long enough for Groot to hop onto Peter's back, clambering up to perch on his shoulder between Gamora and Peter, and after that, they're off.

Not two minutes in, Peter really wishes he had taken one of those painkillers before they left.

But they make it back to the housing complex, even if Peter is exhausted, even if his body feels like one giant bruise. (Apparently falling like two stories and then later using his body like a battering ram can take a lot out of a guy. Who knew?) They bypass the living room entirely to go straight to the bedroom, and Groot hops off onto the bed as Gamora helps Peter onto it. He's breathless and aching and part of him wants a shower, but like hell is he willing to get up again.

He lies back, eyes shut tightly. Then, with an eloquence Shakespeare might envy, ]

Ow.

[godslay]

[ Fortunately for him, Gamora expected about this level of functionality, and she's more than prepared to haul him up to their apartment, getting him back into the bed gently and with great care. As he finally lies down, she reaches into her pocket to produce the painkillers. She gives the bottle a little shake, and then sets it next to his bed. ]

You should be grateful you have these now.

[ Because as miserable as this may be, it could be infinitely worse.

She leaves long enough to fetch him a glass of water, returning to his bedside with it in hand. ]

Take one of the pills, and then you can go back to sleep.

[ For the moment, she's incredibly businesslike as she makes sure Peter is taken care of – something she's come to exercise more as a squad captain. She's proprietary about seeing her squad treated, trading sympathy for efficacy, because what matters is their health and wellbeing, which is too often neglected.

Warm and fluffy, Gamora is not. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ The pointed little comment is answered with little more than a quick grunt – acknowledgement more than agreement, because Peter doesn't like being wrong.

(But she has a point.)

As Gamora leaves, Peter slowly pushes himself back up to sit, shrugging out of the sling and his jacket, dropping the first on the nightstand and the second on the floor. Groot perches on the edge of the nightstand, now, fiddling with the sling, while Peter carefully probes his hand along his right side, where the horn had slammed into him.

When Gamora returns, all clipped and professional, he frowns at her, but he pops one of the pills out of the bottle as directed. He takes the glass from her with a grateful nod, then swallows the pill down. It's going to take a bit to kick in, he figures, and he drains the rest of the water from the glass.

He pauses, studying her. Then, with a great deal of hesitation, ]

... Are you... pissed at me?

[ Because that shift in attitude was terribly stark. ]

[godslay]

[ Once Peter takes the medication, Gamora eases down to sit on the edge of his bed. ]

I won't be, as long as you take the time you need to recover.

[ Because she absolutely didn't miss the way Peter was ready to argue with the medic about returning to the fight. He'd looked so ready to protest, to insist he could handle it, and Gamora is actually mildly aggravated by that level of recklessness. ]

Which means not pushing yourself.

[ Her tone isn't as sharp, but still firm, like she doesn't want to hear any complaints – though she expects Peter has them. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

I'm not pushing myself.

[ Just as firm, because— ]

I've done more with worse. And we're seriously in the middle of some Godzilla-type shit, you know? It's all hands on deck.

[godslay]

[ An annoyed huff of a sigh. ]

There are other hands, Peter. You should be out there at full strength, or you could be a liability.

No one begrudges you giving an injury time to heal.

[nostalgiabomb]

I'm good.

[ Insistent and sharp. ]

They're just bruises. I'm just sore. Nothing a seriously hot shower can't fix, okay?

I was doing just fine before I— [ He waves vaguely. ] —before I did the thing. Right? You were there. You saw.

[godslay]

Dislocating a shoulder is more serious than minor bruising. And if you're in so much pain you can barley move— [ Like when they were trying to get him home. ] —then you shouldn't continue to stress your body.

This isn't a situation where you have no option but to fight. You do not have to do "more with worse."

[nostalgiabomb]

I'm just tired.

[ A lame excuse to explain why he had leaned so heavily on Gamora on the way home, sure, but it's the one he goes with. ]

I'll ice my shoulder, get a good night's sleep, and take a really, really long shower, and I'll be good as new. Promise.

[godslay]

[ Gamora doesn't look convinced. ]

Taking a day won't hurt.

[ More than a day would be ideal, but... ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Are you taking a day off?

[ He knows the most likely answer to the question, but apparently it feels important to ask anyway. ]

[godslay]

[ She frowns, clearly not understanding why he would ask. ]

I don't have any injuries.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Yeah, that's not a "no," so— ]

If you're going, I'm going.

[godslay]

That's not how this works.

[ They're not in the same state, after all. Physically, she's completely unharmed, whereas Peter should take the time. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Tough.

[ In a chipper sort of way, even if there's an obvious edge to the word.

Like this is a schoolyard argument. Like they're playing a game of tag, and Peter's switching up the rules on her. ]

If you're going back out— [ which she absolutely will be, they've now established, as she has no reason to stay back ] —then so am I. Discussion over.

[godslay]

[ Her eyes narrow, displeasure radiating off of her. ]

This discussion is not over.

[ It's not as simple as that, and she has no idea why Peter is being so difficult.

(That's not true; she would be the same way, if their positions were reversed.) ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Uh— [ He scoffs, like she's said something patently ridiculous. ] Yeah, it is. Because I ended it. Just now.

[ In a lot of ways, Peter is still a child, and apparently that's shining through like a beacon right now. ]

[godslay]

[ He earns the full force of her glare – something with enough force it could nearly reduce a man to ash – but rather than snapping and snarling, rather than calling him a child or insulting him— ]

Then I'm staying here tomorrow.

[ Take that, Star-Lord. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ —he didn't expect that, honestly, and he clearly flounders with it, rendered speechless.

For a moment, anyway. ]

Don't be stupid.

[ Foolish is the man who calls Gamora, the deadliest assassin in the galaxy, stupid.

Alternately, guess who's got two thumbs and is a giant goddamn idiot?

This guy. ]

You seriously want me to believe that you're gonna just leave your team without its leader during a literal giant emergency.

[godslay]

[ ... She's pretty sure the last man who called her "stupid" no longer possesses a head, but she seems momentarily startled that Peter said that – but then that glare is back in place. ]

Yes.

[ No. ]

They're fully capable of pressing on without me. I trained them so that they could.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He scoffs again, completely disbelieving. ]

Gamora, they're not gonna let you take a day off while all this shit is going on. What are you gonna do, ask for a sick day?

[godslay]

Then if my hands are tied, your decision is overturned. If I cannot stay home, you can.

[ ... Logic? ]

[nostalgiabomb]

—That doesn't even make sense.

[godslay]

Neither does you demanding to go back out there if I go.