riverviewlogs | ( 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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[ She doesn't flinch away or tense when he comes close, and if anything, some of that rigidity eases out of her. ]

You have already done more than you needed to.

[ ... He also let her beat the tar out of him, and that most definitely wasn't good for his health – but he'd done it for her anyway.

She steps into him, winding her arms around his waist as she leans up to steal a soft kiss. ]

I'm all right, Peter.

[ He doesn't look fully convinced by that, even if the kiss does help put him a little more at ease. ]

Are you sure?

[ A hint of skepticism, though it's drowned out by his obvious worry. ]

[ One hand slips up, gently cupping his jaw. ]

I'm sure.

[ Because, at the end of the day, it's going to take time for her to decompress and file this terror away with everything else. ]

This isn't the first night I've spent awake because of nightmares.

[ Still a little doubtful, but for now, he's willing to let it slide.

For now.

He nods, still frowning, taking a second to think. Then, ]

Are you staying up the rest of the night?

[ She nods, looking unconcerned. ]

I don't want to risk returning to that dream and whatever is amplifying it. Going without sleep won't be too difficult.

[ He hesitates, lips pressing into a thin line, before he gestures over his shoulder with his thumb, pointing to the living room. ]

Movie marathon?

[ There's a flash of surprise that slips through, and Gamora blinks at him for a moment, then—

—smiles. ]>

You could go back to sleep.

Could.

[ He shrugs, taking a backwards step toward the couch. ]

Probably won't, though. I'll let you pick the first one.

[ She doesn't hesitate too much before she draws away to go take a look at the movies that Peter's stashed by the television.

A thoughtful look as she flips through them, and then she pulls out two films – Dirty Dancing and The Matrix. Turning back to Peter, she holds them both up. ]

Pick from these two.

[ He settles on the couch, having retrieved his mug of coffee.

(He said he'd probably stay up, and, yeah, he's gonna try, but he can't guarantee that his traitorous body might make him conk out at some point.

When she turns around, he studies the cases for all of a half second before he jerks his chin to one. ]

Dirty Dancing.

[ Because after all the crap that's happened tonight, they could probably do with something easy to watch. ]

[ That's about what she expected, and she's not disappointed. Maybe they do need something... less demanding, at this point. She puts the movie in, setting both boxes aside before she goes to join Peter on the couch, curling up at his side, while trying not to jostle his coffee. ]

You can sleep, Peter. Out here, if you want to.

[ She gives his mug a little nod. ]

There is no reason for you to try staying awake.

[ He stretches one arm along the back of the couch, kicking up a foot onto the coffee table. He takes a pointed sip from his mug once she nods to it. ]

Maybe I want an opportunity to spend some quality time with my favorite person. You ever think of that?

[ In a way that's become almost instinctual for Gamora now, she makes herself at home in the space under his arm. She curls up against his side, palm settled on his sternum, and she hides some of that soft smile curling on her lips by glancing around for the remote. ]

You can spend time with me at a decent hour.

[ But she's still starting up the movie, settling in against him. ]

It's a decent hour somewhere.

[ Peter doesn't bother to hide his own smile, which is just as soft, just as warm. It barely matters to him whether or not Gamora sees it, after all, and when she settles in against him, he lets out a slow, contented breath. ]

But not here.

[ Here, it's late – and anyone sensible is fast asleep.

Like Groot.

But she's happy in this moment, happy to be curled up with Peter, and somewhere, on some level, it helps chase away some of the chill left behind by her nightmare.

The movie is starting, but she's not paying it much mind. She leans into Peter, resting her forehead against his jaw as she breathes him in. ]

( closed ) he's a jukebox hero.

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