riverviewlogs | ( closed ) he's a jukebox hero.

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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Gamora's frozen, but Peter isn't – and when he realizes his shots have no effect, he runs, trying to close the distance, but—

He's not fast enough, and Gamora screams as Thanos draws a blade across the woman's throat, and—

Something explodes, rocketing him back into the waking world, and Peter gasps, eyes flying open. For a brief second, he's not sure what it was that woke him, but as his senses catch up to him, he can feel Gamora trembling through the mattress, can hear her ragged breaths in the dark, and Peter sits up after her. ]

Gamora. Hey—

[ Quiet in the stillness of their room. Groot slumbers still, the heavy sleep of childhood, and Peter can hear the quiet, stiff rustle of movement before Groot settles again.

Peter rests his hand on her shoulder, telegraphing his intentions, before he slides an arm around her back. His other hand rests gingerly against her cheek. ]

Hey. [ And his own voice shakes, unsteady and terrified, though he's not sure why. ] Hey, you're alright. I've got you.

[ The instant Peter makes contact with her, her spine goes ramrod straight, her entire body seizing up with unyielding tension. She doesn't process who's touching her at first, and because of how real the dream felt, her senses aren't immediately certain that this is reality, that he's solid and here instead of that world (her world).

She's still breathing unevenly, trembling, but some part of her must recognize Peter, because instead of shoving away from him, she allows the contact.

But she doesn't lean into him yet.

She shakes her head quickly, insistently, but she can't speak yet. ]

You're okay.

[ Whispered, and he doesn't try to tug her against him – because he worries that might make things worse, that she'll feel trapped and smothered. Instead, he shifts around the bed to catch her gaze, bracketing her face now with both hands. He keeps his touch light, barely there. ]

You're okay, Gamora. Just breathe, alright? Deep breaths.

[ She doesn't draw away from him, doesn't struggle (where months ago she would have yanked free, maybe even walked out of the apartment), but it takes a while for her to start to calm. She squeezes her eyes tightly shut; she doesn't want to see him looking at her, not while she can't gather her composure.

Ever so slowly, she starts to settle her breathing, going from shallow to purposefully deep, to finally steady.

She swallows around the lump high in her throat, still not opening her eyes. ]

... I'm fine.

[ A hoarse, weak whisper. ]

[ Yeah, he doesn't believe that for a second.

But he doesn't begrudge her that feeling of control, and instead, he moves in close, loosely wrapping his arms around her shoulders – an invitation to let her lean against him, but not a demand for it. ]

Whatever it was, it was just a dream, okay?

[ She could break contact now that she's coming back to herself; she could shrug off the comfort and continue insisting that she's fine, that she doesn't need his reassurance—

But instead, she finally sinks into him. ]

It's fine, Peter.

[ Her voice is still low and ragged, the exhaustion of being so tense and terrified. ]

It's fine.

[ Bullshit, he wants to say. That's a total lie.

But he knows better than anyone that sometimes, it helps to fake it till you make it. Sometimes it helps to pretend that you're impervious, because eventually that might be true – or eventually you can put up a sort of mental barrier that tricks you into thinking it's true. ]

I know.

[ Quietly, gently. Now's not the time to inform her that, no, it's clearly not fine. That can wait until she's feeling a little more like herself.

When Gamora falls against him, he wraps his arms around her a little more tightly, reaches up to rest his hand at the nape of her neck. He drops a quick kiss against the side of her head before nosing at her hair. ]

I've got you.

[ Since when does she let anyone see her like this? Since when is she this exposed and vulnerable and aching in front of another person? She's been open with Peter, more than anyone else, but—

This is different.

She swallows thickly, turning to press her face against his neck as the last of the shaking slides out of her body. Eventually (too many minutes later), she's still and— almost pieced back together.

(Not quite.) ]

... I need to...

[ She shakes her head, slowly starting to pull away from him, reaching down to push tangled blankets from her hips. She needs to get up, to move, to not sit and wallow in the wake of the dream. ]

[ When she pulls back, he lets her, and he helps her push the blankets aside. Still, he looks startled, confused. ]

What are you doing?

Getting up.

[ Moving, not sitting here.

She pushes her fingers back through her hair, shoving sweaty locks out of her face as she stands, already heading for the bedroom door. ]

[ He frowns at her for a second, but as she walks away, Peter scrambles to follow after her. He spares another glance at Groot, who snores softly in his bed, completely oblivious to everything that just transpired, before Peter follows her out into the living space.

He sticks close, trying to keep a step out of space to avoid hovering, as he tends to do. He forces himself to step around her, heading into the kitchen. ]

Water?

[ She keeps combing her fingers through her hair, picking out tangles from her curls as she walks across the apartment. It suddenly feels too small, confined, but the sound of Peter's voice distracts her for a moment. ]

... Water.

[ That's a "yes." ]

[ He nods, pulling down glasses from the cupboards. (Thank god he's done dishes recently.)

When he pours out two glasses, Gamora is still pacing the space like a caged wild animal. The living space is lit by the dim light falling in from the balcony windows, and he watches her progress from one wall to another, feeling entirely out of his depths.

After a moment, he walks over with the glasses, deposits them both on the coffee table, and steps into her path. He rests a hand on her shoulder, the other hand carefully pushing her hair away from her face. ]

Do you... wanna talk about it?

[ She doesn’t seem to realize that Peter is there until he steps in her way, and she only stops because it would be awkward to just keep walking around him. There’s no additional tension when he touches her this time, but she also doesn’t relax.

She shakes her head, her jaw set as she glances over to the glasses on the table. ]

Just the water is fine.

[ So that would be a “no” on the talking. ]

[ —he's not sure what he expected. If their positions were reversed, he'd totally answer the same way.

But for a second, he lets his disappointment show – just a flicker of it, in the way his eyebrows knit together, how his lips press into a thin, unhappy line – but he nods, stepping to one side. ]

Yeah. Okay.

[ He perches on the arm of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest. Maybe he should leave her alone, let her work it out by herself, whatever it is, but part of him is deeply worried. Part of him knows that he wouldn't want to be alone with whatever nightmares might have jolted him awake, as they had with Gamora.

But he hesitates, fingers imperceptibly digging into his upper arm. Then, quietly, ]

Do you want me to leave you alone?

[ Maybe, in another moment, she might feel guilty for the look that crosses Peter’s face, but she’s too preoccupied with her dream to pay his disappointment much mind. Once Peter moves out of her way, Gamora goes to retrieve one of the glasses. Fortunately, she doesn’t start to pace again, and instead, sips at her water, looking out across the living room to the balcony.

His question gives her pause, and her brow draws in a contemplative frown as she actually thinks about her answer. There’s no immediate rejection, no quick “yes, I want to be alone,” because she’s actually trying to consider whether or not she wants his company.

Eventually, ]

No. You can stay.

[ For a weird, unreal second there, he felt like he was twisting in the wind with that long pause, with the way she had to deliberate. If she had told him to fuck off, he wasn't actually sure what he would have done. It wouldn't have felt right, stepping away to leave Gamora on her own, but luckily, he doesn't have to worry about it.

He nods once he receives that bit of permission, hands relaxing against his arms. He watches her for a few heartbeats, uncertain and nervous, then, ]

Is there... Can I—

[ He winces at himself and quickly corrects course: ]

Do you need anything?

[ She maintains that quiet, slowly drinking from her glass as she focuses on the world outside the windows. It doesn't settle her, but— it makes her feel less confined.

Sort of.

She glances over as he speaks, and once again, she has to think about an answer. ]

I—

[ A false start. She frowns at her glass, lips pressed in a thin line before she tries again. ]

I need to do something.

[ A distraction. A way to avoid focusing on this. A run or a fight or— not this. Not all of this energy that keeps pulling her back into how real her dream had felt, how vivid and painful and intense it had been. ]

Okay...

[ He frowns a little, but at length, he nods, licking his lips as he thinks. ]

We could watch a movie, or— I can wake up Groot, and we can go for a walk? Or— we can go to the Perimeter Guard station and borrow a training room.

[ ... come to think of it, Peter never did pay for the damages in that one room. He remembers passing by as maintenance workers scratched their heads at it, and he had hurried away with his head ducked. ]

[ She considers the options silently, trying to decide. She likes the idea of getting out of the apartment, but she has enough presence of mind to feel guilty over waking the little sapling in the middle of the night to drag him around the Quarantine. ]

I don't want to disturb Groot.

[ ... He also happens to get grumpy when he doesn't sleep enough, and the last thing that child needs is more attitude. ]

[ Peter shrugs a little. ]

We can carry him. Groot could sleep through an explosion and not even move.

[ But, yeah, the kid would be grumpy once they woke him, admittedly. But maybe they'll get lucky and the kid will be too sleepy and out of it to throw a fit before they set off.

Fifty-fifty chance, by Peter's reckoning. ]

Whatever you need.

[ Peter makes a decent point, at least – and Groot could probably just go back to sleep, wherever they end up.

She thinks it over again, and then— ]

The training facility.

[ Something to get rid of this tension, to just let her stop thinking about it. ]

[ He nods, pushing off from the couch. ]

Okay. Let's get changed, then.

[ He watches her for a second longer, indecision in his gaze, before turning back to their shared room. He throws on a different pair of sweats, a loose-fitting shirt, and a red zip-up hoodie. He waits for Gamora to grab her clothing and change elsewhere before he goes through the arduous process of waking Groot.

Thankfully, the kid is too out of it to be properly pissed about being woken up, and he just stretches out his arms to be picked up. Peter gathers the kid up in the tiny little baby blanket they had gotten for Groot some time after he first arrived, personally selected by Groot, himself, on account of the funny little animals on them (elephants). Groot goes right back to sleep almost the instant he rests against Peter's shoulder.

Peter steps back into the living space, casting around for his keys, Groot's breath gusting gently along Peter's neck. ]

I'm ready when you are.

[ Gamora trusts Peter to take care of Groot while she changes to leave, swapping her pajamas for leggings and a sweat-wicking shirt, not bothering with a sweater, despite the chilly night air. Her hair, mess that it is, goes up into a ponytail so she doesn't have to deal with it, before she's gathering up the last of her things.

She glances up to Peter and Groot as he carries the sapling out of the bedroom, and rather than throwing a fit, Groot seems to have just passed right back out in Peter's arms.

Well, that's better than a tired, whiny toddler. ]

Let's go.

[ She doesn't waste any time, because she's antsy. She wants to burn off her energy, to stop thinking about this, and for now, training is the best solution she can come up with.

She leads the way from the housing complex, off to the trams to get to the Guard's facilities. It's dark, still the middle of the night, and while there are obviously Guard members on duty, there shouldn't be too many training at this hour. ]

[ Gamora speeds off to the training facility, and Peter keeps up as best as he can, considering he's still feeling slightly battered and he has a slumbering Groot in tow.

They find an empty training room easily enough, isolated from the bulk of the currently active guards to afford them some privacy. With Groot still pressed against his shoulder, Peter carefully shrugs out of his sweater, leaving it wadded up as a makeshift mattress just beneath a bench. He lays Groot down into it, settling the blanket securely around the kid's shoulders, before he gets back to his feet.

Peter rolls out his still healing shoulder, runs a hand along his bruised side. It'll be fine, he tells himself. More with worse, right? He stretches carefully, slowly, before taking his place on the practice mats. ]

On your mark?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject