aromantically | ( OPEN ) Peter Q

It starts out a chance meeting as kids. She's beat to Hell in another fight with a rival gang. While the other members of her crew have moved on, Gamora is left to fend for herself. It's no surprise to her. The Black Order is all about survival of the fittest. She couldn't keep up so it's only right she got left behind. She's limping her way back to her adoptive father's place when a lady pulls over to help. Not even Gamora's meanest look or iciest threat will get Meredith Quill to leave a kid alone in that state.

She gets in the car and lets the lady take her back to her place. It's daring fate. The last time she let herself be taken by an adult she ended up in a cycle of violence she can't break out of. Today is different. Meredith takes care of her injuries, feed her a good meal, and introduces Gamora to her son. It turns into one of the best days of her life. For the first time since her parents died, she gets to be a kid. She listens to music and watches movies with mother and son. No one asks questions she can't answer. It's just nice in a way she missed desperately.

She leaves when it's well into the night with only the promise that she'll come back to let them know she's okay. (She does about two weeks later with some fresh bruises mixed in with the healing ones.) It turns into a habit. Sometimes weeks or months would pass, but she'd wander in for a day. It's wonderful every time.

It can't last, of course. Meredith gets sick. Peter's grandfather makes it more than clear he isn't going to let some strange girl keep showing up to cause his daughter trouble. She backs off save for the anonymous gifts. Money means nothing to Gamora. Why not steal from the people her father sets her against if it means funding Meredith's treatments? It doesn't save her though. Her father comes down hard on her once finds out what she's up to. He makes it clear Meredith wouldn't be the only Quill dead if she didn't keep her distance. She leaves Peter to his grief. It's better to be sad than dead.

Years pass before they see each other again. They're both trying to steal the same thing to get away from their respective guardians. Gamora doesn't have it in her to kill him to get it. (The interference from other interested parties definitely didn't help.) She lets him escape and returns empty-handed. She makes it clear to her siblings she's done. She wants out. They decide to grant her request provided she can get past all of them out the door.

Once she succeeds, Gamora knows where she needs to go. It takes some work, but she tracks down Quill. Just like when they were kids, she stands outside the door waiting to be let in. "I left." She shouts through the door. If he looks outside, he can see what it costs. There's not a part of that isn't covered in blood. Some of hers, some of it her siblings. Her reputation is honestly the only thing keeping her from getting picked up by the cops. Who would dare go against the deadly Gamora? She's as free as can be from the consequences of her actions.

Deep down she knows it can't last forever. Her siblings didn't have their father's approval to let her go. He'll be back for her. For now, she won her right to be free. She'll spend it here if Peter will allow it. "I don't want to be your enemy. I want to be someone Meredith would be proud of." She almost chokes on the name. Gamora pushes through it to finish what she has to say. "You don't have to let me in. I just wanted you to know why I did it." She backs up, turning to leave. Meredith is dead. She's done nothing to prove to Peter she's worth the trouble. At least for today she'll prove to herself Meredith wasn't totally wasting her time on some brat with a death wish.

Peter doesn't understand why the one moment he needed her most, Gamora left. He didn't understand until his mother got sick that their worlds were diametrically opposed. He tells himself he hates her for leaving and tries to move on, but the worst day of his life somehow gets even worse when a strange man abducts him. His crew call themselves The Ravagers and they raise Peter to be just like them. There's no opportunity for him to go back until it's too late, and once his grandfather is dead what difference does it make? It was probably more peaceful for him without Peter around anyway, or at least, he tries to convince himself of that as well.

The shock of seeing Gamora that day sticks with him, but he fights her with every ounce of vitriol he feels towards her betrayal, or what he perceives as such. The thing is: he knows he's not as good as her so when he "wins" it's an empty victory. He's left wanting to know why, but there's no explanation to be had. All Peter can do is use his treasure to buy his freedom and he manages, for a while.

He's staying in a motel by the ocean, but even this peaceful seaside village can't calm him down. The paranoia sets in all too quickly, knowing Yondu will be tracking him down. Some time passes and no one bothers him, he starts to get comfortable. That is, until one day he hears the stomp of boots outside. All his blinds are drawn and there are multiple latches on the door, he grabs his gun and goes as quietly towards the front of the room as he can, careful to stay away from the windows as he leans a shoulder into the wall, ready to spring into action. But hearing her voice... it's the last thing he expects.

Remaining silent, he listens to her explanation, tears rising unbidden to his eyes at the mere mention of his mother's name. No one's said that name to him since the day she died. When he starts to hear her steps retreat, he unlatches the door and pulls it open a crack and then he waits. The gun is lax by his thigh, his finger outside of the trigger guard, but he lies to himself again that he'd fire if he had to.

A cracked door only reminds her of what she's lost. Meredith would have swung the door all the way open. Peter would have run to her. Those are the old days. None of them can go back. She wipes her face with her jacket sleeve and heads towards it. Tactically it's a stupid move. That's how you get a bullet in your head. Gamora knows better than this. She also doesn't care. She rather die here than lose hope the boy who made her smile is lost forever.

She pushes open the door gently as she can and steps inside the room. Gamora only spares Peter a fleeting glance, eying his gun before shutting the door just as gently behind her. She'll give him all the power in the situation regardless of how stupid it is. He might actually have a shot of taking her in this state. It's a risk she's willing to take. Her heart aches with how wrong he looks with that gun, but she pushes past that. He let her in. That means something.

"Can I use your bathroom?" It almost sounds like a joke. How many times has she asked that question after coming over with a split lip or some other unexplained injury?

His heart catches in his throat when she walks in, not truly believing it's her until he sees her up close. Slowly, he nods, turning to watch her, not that she seems capable of much in this state. Why would she come here? It isn't until she's moved further into the room that he realizes they're in the same exact situation. How unbelievably fucked up. He latches the door behind her and clicks the safety on, stashing the weapon in the back of his waistband as he trails after her, like when they were kids; he would follow her all around the house until she got sick of it.

"I left, too." He says it with a hoarse voice, he probably hasn't spoken to anyone in days at least. The forgiveness comes in a wave, sudden and cold. If she really came here to take refuge, Peter knows he won't be able to say 'no' even if it turns out to be some elaborate hoax crafted by her father.

She nods slowly. Gamora navigates the space without much effort. She's been in enough motels doing business for her father to know where things should be. Him trailing her is a comfort even now that they're too old for this to be normal.

Once they are inside, she wastes no time shrugging off her jacket. She gets to work scrubbing herself off. She's as numb as ever to the pain. It's the only way she can properly assess the damage. "I thought so." Which as close as she can get to admitting that's what aided in her decision to let him win.

He hangs in the doorway, watching her and wanting nothing else but to step in. It's habit to catalog all of her injuries and imagine how she got them. Her words confirm what he already knew and all he can do is sigh - it doesn't feel any better to win now than it did then.

"Here, just... just stop that. Okay?" Peter steps forward to take her hands, stilling them and attempting to steer her to sit on the closed toilet lid. He turns to set the gun on the lip of the tub and goes for a clean towel to dab at her wounds with. He crouches down in front of her and goes through each wound meticulously.

It is more than she can possible hope for. Gamora stares at him in shock as he goes back to caring for her as he and his mother once did. She follows his direction to sit and allows him to do what he deems necessary. She's not sure what she is doing here. They're in the same boat certainly. Gamora's enemies will not hesitate to kill him even if she left this very second. It always comes back to him. The only question is if he's safer at her side or facing them alone. She thinks she knows the answer to that one. Now is the time to come clean with him on the situation.

"He was going to kill you." Gamora states suddenly. "Thanos hated your mother, but he never did anything about it because I always came back. Once she got sick, all he had to was wait. You're the one he couldn't forgive." Peter made her think she could have a life on top of offering a safe harbor. That was unforgivable.

He's processing even while cleansing her arms and face. "Is this all of it?" he asks, wondering how much worse it is under her clothes as he turns to grab the peroxide from under the cabinet. Peter hears her, but he's not ready to respond. She's trying to explain why she left, to protect him, but it only hardens his heart in the moment. He shrugs after a moment, still waiting for her answer when he admits, "Feeling's mutual."

She shakes her head like a guilty child largely because she had been the first time it came out of Meredith's mouth. Just like then she strips without a single word. She unlaces and kicks off her boots first. Her pants are next until finally she hikes up her tank top to her chest. Just like before old mixes in with new wounds. She feels like a burden all over again.

"I'm sorry." Gamora stares down at her thighs as she apologizes. "If I knew that someone would-" Take him. She swallows the bitter taste that leaves her with. "I should have been there to protect you." For whatever good that would have done.

Peter tries to be a gentleman about it, they're not little kids anymore, averting his eyes while she gets her clothes off. Though when she gets hung up on her shirt he leans in to help her, hating how intimate it feels.

"You were, right? That's what you just said." By losing to him, she doubtlessly faced the wrath of her father. He's not stupid despite what people think of him. He goes to work on a particularly nasty mark on her shoulder, thinking he knows who inflicted that on her. "And you're here now." Whatever that means.

Her head bows a little lower as Peter points out an objective truth. Her life would be much better if she'd have killed him then and there. Gamora can only see her failures when it comes to Peter. "I gave you a headstart. Thanos will be coming for you along with the rest of the Ravagers." Gamora glances at him as he works. She flinches only for a second at a part of the wound that is particularly deep.

"For what it's worth, they at least want you alive." That's worse in her opinion. She doesn't know how much his situation differed from hers. She's still puzzling together what happened to him since Meredith's death. It is safe to say she'd have killed Yondu years ago if she knew. Finding Peter was more important than discovering all the gritty details that led him to become a thief of all things.

His nod is accepting and bland. They're both probably dead, but in typical Quill fashion, he's not about to let that stop him from living in the meantime.

"Nebula did this, right?" he asks softly, pouring peroxide in the deep wound and immediately taking her hand to try and offset the pain. It's automatic and not something he thinks about until after, dropping the grip as if her skin burnt him. What she says about Yondu catches him unawares though and he's snapping his gaze up to grill her. "Who told you that?" In his view, the Ravagers always viewed him as an inconvenience. Why are they going around telling people not to kill him?

She's not sure if it's better or worse than he dropped her hand. Gamora feels a deep sense of loss all the same. It's been so long. They're grown ups now to make things more complicated. Even so she finds herself longing for him to act like nothing has. "She was the hardest one to get past." Gamora admits as she meets his gaze. Of course he wants answers. Lucky for him she's had a few days to get them before brawling with her siblings.

"The Ravager I kidnapped. The mercenaries I spoke with before I left confirmed it." She took no chances. That shouldn't be surprising. Gamora has always been relentless. "Yondu is the one who put a bounty on your head. He only wants you back alive. The scum I got my hands on wasn't happy about it. Something about him being soft on you." It's the only reason they'd talk to her. Gamora kills her prey. It left her in her a unique situation where every party assumed she'd either do what they wanted or back off because it didn't fit her agenda.

"Soft on me?" he asks incredulously, still working on her, but deeply confused and not bothering to hide it. "He always said they kept me around 'cause I was small and could fit through tight spaces. Good for thievin'. Said it was the only reason he didn't let those guys eat me."

She nods. Gamora had been surprised to hear it too. The guy may be missing a few fingers now just to be sure he was being honest. The truth is what it is. "It's what he said. Apparently you're Yondu's favorite. He practically begged me to kill you for him just to spite his captain." The side of her mouth quirks up. It isn't funny at all. She does appreciate how every criminal organization, even one as mighty as the one Thanos controls, is being undone by fighting among themselves. "You know they might not actually make it to you if they're too busy trying to take each other out."

Edited 2019-07-31 21:37 (UTC)

"Good thing they asked the wrong criminal, huh?" He sees the humor in it too, though he's still trying to reconcile Yondu's favorite with the way he was raised. Peter tips his head to concede she might be right, thieves are anything if actually smart about strategy. "So you came here on the off chance it's the safest place in the galaxy or what?"

He doesn't need to ask how she found him, or if anyone else knows. Obviously if either of those things were an issue, he would never have seen her.

That is the real question. She debates on lying. It'd be so easy to say that it's because he owes her. It is nearly the way she decides to play it until she realizes she is too tired for games. Gamora admits the truth. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go." She sounds like a lost child even to her ears. That certainly isn't incorrect. She's still that same kid who got bullied into getting in a car with a strange lady all those years ago in a lot of ways.

He nods at that, bandaging the deepest wounds and leaving the rest as he slowly stands up, wincing at the way his joints pop. They're not kids anymore, but not much has changed for him either when he analyzes it. Not where she's concerned. "Stay here, I'll get you some clothes."

Peter grabs his gun and walks back out into the room, stashing the weapon in his pants again as he digs through drawers for a t-shirt (Stevie Nicks, naturally) and a pair of sweatpants. He walks back into the bathroom and drops the items in her lap before putting his hands on his hips expectantly.

"Hungry? I was about to make some blue box special. Generic brand, of course."

She smiles at the choice of clothing. This really is a crash from the past. How many times has she worn his clothing? Far too many to recall of the top of her head. It wins a soft smile from Gamora as she remembers it. "Starving. I was a little too busy to stop for food." Running, cracking skulls, etc. She's as terrible as taking care of herself as ever.

Gamora snags the shirt first. "You are already know how I feel about your cooking." It's perfect even if it's a bowl of cereal. It's certainly better than what she can do.

"Callin' it cooking is generous, but... okay. I'll see you out there." He gives her a last glance, trying not to let his gaze linger too long even as he backs out of the room and shuts the door. He lets out a long breath he didn't realize he'd been holding the second he's in the hallway, steeling himself before making his way to the tiny kitchenette to make mac and cheese for his guest. This is going to be a really long night, but on the plus side: they probably won't live long, right?

She lets out a soft snort, barely containing the urge to make a self-deprecating joke at her expense. Gamora changes slowly as she works around the new bandages. She doesn't want to screw up Peter's hard work regardless of how long it will last. She thinks her father may actually kill her this time.

She steps out of the bathroom a solid ten minutes later, movements slow as she makes her way towards him. Even Gamora can't power through her injuries forever. She doesn't waste any time settle down at the little table to watch him as he cooks. "What is the plan, Peter?" Maybe she doesn't have the right to ask. He patched her up, gave her clothes. He's feeding her. Now seems like the time to ask. She may as well see how far she can push.

Edited (i had a good closer. shut up!!!!) 2019-08-01 02:29 (UTC)

A plan. He snorts, glancing over his shoulder at her after dumping pasta into the freshly boiling water.

"I have... 12% of a plan?" Yeah, that's about as far as he got before she burst through his door. He realizes belatedly that means they're a team now, doesn't it?

"Twelve percent of a plan." Gamora echoes back at him in disbelief. He's had days. That's the best he's got? She shakes her head. "Peter, that's barely a concept. Have you even factored in Thanos yet?" That's the one to worry about her opinion. No surprise there.

"Uh..." Yeah, he's got nothing. "Well, do you have a plan?" Since she's judging him!!!

She takes a deep breath. Gamora actually has plans!!! "I was thinking if some of your old buddies decide to break rank and kill you, we fake our deaths. An explosion would cover our escape and guarantee Thanos is too busy killing Ravagers to properly look into it." And it's not that great. Don't worry! She has a better one!

She tilts her head to the side. "That assumes they find us first. I think our best bet is to keep running until I've fully healed. After that, I'll start hunting them. I won't stop until they're all dead." The assassin plans to murder her way out of it. Again she's full of surprises.

( OPEN ) Peter Q

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