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

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( 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. ]

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[ He nearly loses his footing again as she grabs hold of him, stumbling forward and catching himself by grabbing hold of her unwavering arm. She swings at him, and he thinks distantly, Oh, fuck— as he braces for impact, entire body going rigid, but—

The blow doesn't come, and he feels her knuckles digging into his stomach, controlled but wavering, and—

He looks at Gamora, studying her face, and— he hates what he sees. The coldness in her eyes, the shaking of her shoulders. The tension drifts away from his body, and concern stands naked in his expression. ]

... Gamora. Hey—

[ And he reaches up, fingers tentatively curling along the hinge of her jaw. ]

Yie—

[ She's about to repeat herself when Peter doesn't surrender, but his hand touches her face and cuts her short.

The fight leaves her in a rush, and Gamora's eyes drop to the floor, her grip on his shirt weakening. She doesn't shove him away, though, doesn't try to force separation and step back to compose herself; instead, she leans forward until her forehead touches his shoulder. ]

We can return to the apartment.

[ Softer now. ]

[ He only hums quietly in response, and when he feels the way her hand relaxes where it grips his shirt, he carefully, slowly, puts a hand on her waist, palm sliding to her back to pull her in – assuming she's willing to be pulled. He brings up his other hand to cup the back of her head, and he turns to press his lips against her temple.

He murmurs, ]

Yeah. In a minute.

[ She tenses briefly as his palm settles on her waist, but then she goes where she's led, melting into Peter without protest. The hand poised to smash into his stomach winds around his back, holding herself to him as she keeps gripping his shirt.

She doesn't speak, if only because she doesn't want to draw attention to this, to how she's allowing herself to be swept away in the crushing weight of her dream, of how real it had been. Instead of some nebulous, dramatic nightmare that played moments on repeat with a filter-like quality, everything had been so clear and solid, and—

Seeing her mother—

Her teeth clench around the hitch in her breathing, and Gamora pulls him closer, hides her face in his shirt.

"In a minute."

She just... she just needs a minute. ]

[ He loops his arm around her waist when she sinks into him, holding her close. It's— so eerily silent in here, now, with only their ragged breathing to fill the quiet – his, because he's completely winded, and hers, because she's caught in whatever her nightmares had dredged up.

He had heard the stories, a while back, of people sharing memories. Sharing dreams. The Quarantine was fucking weird like that, as impossible as it seemed. And— it can't be a coincidence, can it? That he could have an awful dream like that the same night as Gamora lurched awake from her own nightmare, about a planet he had never seen before. Her planet, and her people, and the memories laid to waste by Thanos and his invading armies.

And— fuck, he had said some stupid shit to her, back there. He should apologize, but— he's not sure if Gamora's drawn the same conclusion as him. He's not sure if he should bring it up, should admit he remembers everything he saw and felt and heard. He's not sure if it would be better or worse if he feigned ignorance.

For now, he stays mum on the subject, quiet and worried, running his hand along her back and murmuring soft words of reassurance. ]

[ Even the little murmurs help, and Gamora relaxes by bare increments, sinking into him more and more, until most of her weight rests against Peter's chest. She focuses on her breathing, on calming herself, and when she finally feels... not better, but at least level, she turns her face to press against his throat, forcing a slow exhale. ]

Let's go back.

[ At the very least, so that they can put Groot to bed. ]

[ She sounds... well, more composed, if not better. Though he's not entirely sure if that's an improvement, honestly.

At her suggestion, he pauses, not quite committing to pulling away but turning a little to try and get a glimpse of her face. ]

You sure?

[ She nods without hesitation. She'd rather be in surroundings that feel... more like home, now. ]

Yes. I'm finished for the night.

[ Continuing to fight wouldn't be the wisest course of action – for either of them, at this point. ]

[ That seems a good sign, he thinks, or as good a sign as any as he's likely to get, and he nods in return, reluctantly pulling away from her.

He collects up Groot, who murmurs a vague, indistinct protest before conking right out again sleeping against Peter's good shoulder. Peter scoops up his jacket from where it was bundled on the floor, draping it over the crook of the arm he's using to hold up Groot. Too much effort to put it back on, apparently.

He waits for Gamora to follow after, as he's leaving the room, and once she's beside him, he takes her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently. ]

[ Gamora gathers what little she brought along with her, joining Peter on the way out. Something in her settles when Peter takes her hand, and she doesn't tense or flinch away in the slightest. She squeezes back, a little tighter, and then sets off towards the community housing.

As usual, she doesn't feel the need to make smalltalk in the quiet between them. The trip is uneventful, and fortunately for them, Groot stays fast asleep on Peter's shoulder, all the way up to the thirteenth floor and into their room.

Gamora pauses to run her fingers over the back of his little head before she opens their front door, only then releasing Peter's hand. ]

We should get him back into bed.

[ And stop waking him repeatedly, momentary as the disturbances may be for the sapling. ]

[ Peter’s content to leave her to her thoughts. He’s the type to prefer babbling and talking to fill the quiet, sure, the type who would rather talk about nothing than let a conversation lapse. Gamora’s not like that, he knows, and while he feels uncomfortable with the quiet, it’s enough for now that she’s not trying to actively shut him out, that she keeps a hold of his hand on the way back to the apartment.

Once back, he pauses at the door long enough to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, but he does as she suggests, bringing Groot back to the bedroom and carefully tucking him back into bed. Groot stirs only momentarily, sighing as he snuggles back into the pillows, and Peter hopes that the kid will have gotten enough sleep, come morning.

Peter steps back into the living room, closing the door over without shutting it entirely. He hesitates before moving to the kitchen. ]

Coffee?

[ Gamora busies herself with ditching her shoes, taking down her hair to let it fall messily around her face. Peter's voice makes her turn, and she offers a small nod. ]

Coffee sounds fine.

[ She is absolutely not planning on going back to sleep, at this point. She doesn't know if she would lapse back into the nightmare of before, but she doesn't dare risk it.

Following Peter to the kitchen, she leans against the counter, keeping out of his way to give him room to make coffee. ]

I can do it myself, if you want to go back to bed.

[ He pauses at her words, but a little pointedly, he pulls down two mugs before going through the motions of brewing the coffee. ]

I’m good.

[ A pause, as he’s waiting for the coffee to percolate, then, ]

Do me a favor and grab me an ice pack?

[ Just to give Gamora something to do. ]

[ It helps when Peter asks for the ice pack, if only because it means she doesn't have to stand around. She goes to the freezer and pulls out one of the (many) cold packs, bringing it back to him. ]

Does it hurt?

[ She frowns as she looks him over, reaching out to hold the pack against his shoulder. ]

[ He reaches up to help hold the pack in place, covering her hand with his. ]

No.

[ yes. ]

Just— kinda sore. It’ll be fine.

[ Gamora doesn't draw her hand away, her other coming up to rest gently on his stomach. ]

You shouldn't have gone with me. That was foolish.

[ And she shouldn't have taken him up on it. That was irresponsible. ]

[ Peter shrugs his good shoulder, resting his free hand on the edge of the counter as he leans back against it. ]

I wasn’t gonna just wait around while you went by yourself.

That would have been better for you.

[ Easier on his body, on his injury. It wouldn't have been Gamora beating him into the ground. ]

[ Another light shrug, expression softening a little. ]

I wanted to help.

[ And it wasn’t as though he could do that by pacing the length of their living room. And a sparring partner was probably more satisfying than beating the shit out of a punching bag, he had to figure.

He pauses before turning back to the coffee maker, pouring it out into the two mugs. He holds one out to her before hesitantly asking, ]

... It did help, right?

[ She pulls one hand away to take the proffered coffee, the other still keeping a gentle grip on the ice pack. Quiet at first, but then she nods. ]

It did.

[ Not much can help, but... somehow, that genuinely did. ]

But you shouldn't need to put yourself through something strenuous just for me.

[ That’s good, he figures. Gamora isn’t the talking type, so— it’s good to know that he could help in a small way, aside from his usual method of “discuss the topic to death and hope you strike on the root of the problem.” ]

I wanted to help.

[ And he repeats it, because that’s the truth of the matter. Peter’s always been in the habit of trying to do right by his team, even if it leaves him in some shitty positions. Why should that change?

He keeps his tone light, even if his gaze darts away to the closed-over door of their bedroom. ]

Anything for you.

[ She's silent in response, sipping at her coffee for a few, drawn-out moments.

"Anything for you."

It's startling how much she actually believes that, actually trusts him, and though she wouldn't ask for much...

She's willing to accept it.

More quiet, more coffee, and finally, ]

... I was dreaming about my planet.

[ Softly spoken, and she doesn't lift her eyes to look at Peter this time. ]

[ Peter turns his attention back to Gamora once she speaks, a frown working its way back into his expression. He’s silent for a second, grappling with how much he should say, but—

He thinks he knows what it is she saw. And he thinks it might be better to rip the bandaid off now, to let her know what he might have been witness to. And after a few seconds, he quietly murmurs, ]

I kind of got that impression, yeah.

[ ... Admittedly, that's not the response she was expecting.

She stills next to him, her eyes flicking up to study him, somewhat narrowed. ]

What does that mean?

[ Since she doesn't feel like she's given any indication of what she dreamt, of what kept her awake. ]

[ ... Yeah, he didn't think she'd come to the same conclusion.

He visibly hesitates again, trying to figure out how best to break this bit of news without sounding like a completely insane person. Then— ]

Were we—

[ No, hang on. ]

Do you remember me being there at all?

[ Because maybe she doesn't. Maybe this was just a coincidence. ]

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WOMAN. ACTIVITY.

https://riverviewooc.dreamwidth.org/101951.html?thread=5740607#cmt5740607 OH MY GOD

:)

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