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riverviewlogs2018-01-28 11:27 pm
godslay) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-01-28 11:27 pm
Entry tags:
( closed ) he's a jukebox hero.
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. ]
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. ]
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[ She's insistent right back, crossing her arms over her chest. ]
If there's no change tomorrow, you should stay here. You cannot go out there like this.
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Sure. Yeah. 'Cause they were such a huge help when that thing nearly turned you into a pancake.
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[ She doesn't like the implication that she can't be in the middle of a fight without having Peter around. ]
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That's not— I wasn't— That's not what I'm saying—
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[ Sharp, expectant, and thoroughly unimpressed. ]
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[ And he snaps it out, vicious and bitter and pained. His side flares in warning, protesting the way he tenses, the way he raises his voice, but the only deference he pays it is to press his hand against it again.
To one side, Groot flinches with the sudden noise, making himself small; if Peter had noticed, he'd feel awful. ]
I'm saying you kicked that thing's giant ass, and it still almost killed you – on accident, even – and I—
If I hadn't— If I didn't have this stupid—
I almost wasn't fast enough, and you—
[ His voice breaks, leaving him to flounder again before he gives up and bows his head.
(shrieking monitors and the wet bursting of sobs all around him— the steady creeping of hoarfrost across blue skin and red eyes— screaming in the dark, alone and terrified—
how is it that Peter is always the one left standing?) ]
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Peter raises his voice, and she's completely startled by it, stunned into silence. There's so much raw emotion in those words, and as much as she might maintain that she doesn't need anyone to watch her back, he's right that it had been a close call today. Maybe she would have found another way out of it, but very likely not; it was close, painfully so, and she didn't... realize how much that might have affected him.
The wind goes right out of her sails, and she doesn't speak, doesn't snap back at him, until after another moment, she steps up to the bed to fold her arms around his shoulders and pull him close. ]
I'm alive, Peter. I'm here and I'm fine.
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Even if both of them are still a little muddy, clothes slightly stiff from the wave that had crashed over them from the behemoth bellyflopping into the river. Peter apparently hardly cares.
He gives himself a second to compose himself, to take in the scent of dirt and the outside, to appreciate how solid and warm she is against him, and he takes in a shuddering breath. ]
That scared the shit out of me.
[ And he whispers it against her, his voice thick and raw and exhausted. He might not remember the handful of seconds before he apparently passed out, but he does remember that horrible, primal terror that had stabbed through his sternum, that had shoveled out everything in him and left him hollow and cold, and—
He hated – hates – how familiar that feeling was. Is. He hates how often he's had to experience it, and— god, he can't go through that again. Not with Gamora. ]
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She— gets that fear. She understands that visceral, gut-deep terror. She knows how soul-crushingly horrifying it is to watch someone you— the person you—
The train of thought cuts itself short, and she holds him closer – mindful of his injuries. ]
... It scared me too.
[ A barely-voiced murmur, a soft confession that's practically punched out of her. Gamora doesn't like to admit when she's scared to herself, let alone to say it aloud, to tell another person. ]
But I'm still here.
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Needs this.
After half a dozen heartbeats (he hears each one, with his ear pressed against her chest, and he finds comfort in the rhythm), he slowly relaxes his arms, forces his fingers to untangle from her shirt. He doesn't want to pull back – not yet, anyway – but he gives her a little more space to breathe. ]
Yeah. I know.
[ Flatly, still thick with that weird cocktail of emotions mixing in his stomach. ]
I just— If I'm not there, and you— if you get hurt, or worse—
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Peter.
[ Firm, but still gentle as she reaches up to bracket his face with her hands, thumbs sweeping across the swell of his cheeks. ]
You can't prevent everything, even if you are there. And if you're in this state, I'm going to be more distracted worrying about you.
[ Which isn't Peter's fault, but if he's still in this much pain, still aching all over and barely able to move, she's absolutely going to be focusing on keeping him safe more than the fight itself. ]
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She has a point. Gamora usually has a point, honestly, even if he hates admitting so a lot of the time – like right now. But without the two of them snapping at each other like cornered animals, the words – and the sense in them – finally sink in, and Peter lets out a low, displeased sound. ]
I'd rather be there to watch your back.
[ Not an outright refusal, as it might have been just moments ago, but something to express that he doesn't like this. Peter knows Gamora can take care of herself and that she's far more capable on her own than Peter could ever hope to be, but—
He'd still rather be there. ]
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[ Because she does, and she gets it, and now that they've both abandoned their too-short fuses, she's more understanding of it.
She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. ]
But take time to heal. For me.
[ The for me is the crucial part, here. For me, because even if he won't rest and go easy on his body for himself, she hopes he'll do it for her. ]
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That's seriously unfair.
[ He murmurs it as he melts against her again, resting his brow against her shoulder. ]
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I don't care.
[ She's allowed to be unfair.
A few seconds of staying curled like that, and Groot hops quietly down from the nightstands, walking tentatively over to Peter to tug at his shirt. ]
I am Groot?
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Then, he silently runs back through that entire argument and he mumbles, ]
Oh, shit.
[ That was pretty tame, as far as arguments go? And of all the things for them to fight about, this one has definitely been in the pipeline for a long, long time. It was bound to come up, sooner or later. But Groot is young enough that that probably looked really bad, probably seemed kind of scary, and Peter winces a little and carefully helps Groot climb onto his lap. ]
We're good now. Sorry about that.
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Gamora, of course, feels terrible. She didn't even pause to think about Groot watching their back-and-forth, especially since it hadn't been that bad – nothing compared to their shouting match on Ego's planet.
But... still, she feels guilty.
She reaches out to run her fingertips over his little back, offering him a reassuring smile. ]
We're sorry for scaring you.
[ Groot sniffles, but he curls one hand around Gamora's thumb, the other tugging at Peter's jeans. ]
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I think we're in serious need of a group hug, huh?
[ And he carefully holds out an arm. ]
C'mon. Bring it in.
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Gamora shakes her head with bemusement, but she gently lifts Groot, scooting in closer to Peter to wind her arm around his waist as she brings Groot between them both. The little sapling reaches with both his arms, vines growing up and out of his hands to curl around Peter and Gamora both with a relieved sigh. ]
See? Everything is fine.
[ Groot nods, then squeezes them both a little tighter with the vines. ]
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Still, small, kind gestures were a far cry from this. From now, where a thief, an angry little tree, and the galaxy's deadliest assassin hug in a cozy, shared apartment.
Groot's vines creep along their shoulders, the backs of their necks, and it's fine, for the most part. When Groot tightens a little, though, it squeezes down on the bruised mess of Peter's shoulder, and Peter can't hold back the quick hiss of discomfort for it. Groot recoils a little, and Peter pulls back, apologetic again. ]
No, no, it's okay. Just— I'm kind of tender, Groot. It's cool.
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Let's get you to bed.
[ They've made a small nest for Groot in their mostly unused spare bed, and Gamora carries the sapling over, nudging aside pillows and blankets to make a little nook for him. Groot allows himself to be settled down, yawning hugely before he starts to close his eyes.
Ever so tenderly, she tucks him in, smiling down at him before she turns back to Peter. ]
And you should do the same.
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He moves to pull off his shirt, but he freezes when raising his arms a little too high makes his injured side and shoulder twitch in warning. Then, a little sheepishly, ]
... Give me a hand?
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An affectionate brush of her fingers through his hair, and then she kneels back down on the floor to start unclasping his boots. She gets them undone enough that he can toe them off for himself. ]
You had better plan on sleeping in tomorrow.
[ This, however, is accompanied by a look as she starts to get out of her own muddy clothes. ]
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