Gamora allows him to find some comfort in her. It's a little bit of torture to wonder if he's imagining or reliving how she felt. It's a small pain to go through to help Peter. It finally feels like they're getting somewhere with a very complicated situation. The pain is worth it to know he doesn't hate her. She does wonder at times. How could she not? She is essentially a Gamora without bravery. She never escaped Thanos or stood up for Nebula. She didn't open herself up to love much less share a child with a man. In every way, Gamora knows she falls short.
That hopeful look nearly breaks her heart. Gamora doesn't shrink back from it. She actually does know what he needs to do. "Find a way to let her go." It sounds self-serving even to her ears. Gamora knows she needs to explain.
She takes her wrist back to hold gently as if his touch has left a mark on her that only she can see. "One thing I know about the woman you loved is that she fought to be free. Right now the man she loves isn't. You're a slave to your grief, Peter Quill. It controls every part of your life. If not for yourself, do it for her." She can't imagine her counterpart will ever know peace like this. Gamora knows better than to actually say the words.
His eyes slowly fill with water though he doesn't dare let any tear fall even as he hugs the pillow to himself as he listens intently. His heart is pounding fast, but it's starting to sink in that she's right. He can't go on like this and no one else can around him either.
"What if I don't know how?" he asks with a hoarse crackle in his voice. This ship echoes Gamora down every hall to say nothing of the woman laying in his bed right now. "I know I have to, I know you're right... she would hate to see me this." Peter's eyes cast downward as he tries to force the tears back in. "Sorry... again, sorry. You don't deserve to have this put on you."
Her heart completely breaks at the question and unshed tears. Gamora imagines she doesn't help with that. Neither of them seems to be in a rush to get rid of her. They'll have to live with the consequences of that together. "You'll learn." She reassures him. Gamora really thinks he can.
A dark chuckle escapes her at that word. Deserve. "This isn't about what we deserve, Peter." Her hands ball into fists as she allows herself to be angry for his sake as much as that woman she'll never be. "She did everything I never had the courage to do. She escaped on her own. She protected her sister from him. She allowed herself to love again and build a new family. The universe responded by allowing her to be stolen again, killed, and replaced by someone else."
Gamora hates it. She truly does want to exist. She is all too aware of how unfair it is that it's her instead of the original Gamora. "You're kind to try to spare my feelings, but it isn't necessary. I would have gone mad in your position from the injustice alone. If the worst you do is talk to me about it, you're a better man than this universe deserves."
He wants to ask her why she's confident about that, but he never gets the chance as she goes off on a spectacular rant. Peter wants to feel bad about enjoying it, but it is cathartic hearing her out this time... his Gamora was all of those things and more, but she started out much like the woman in front of him. Closed off, terrified, Stockholm syndrome'd.
"Thought it wasn't about 'deserve,'" he points out cheekily, scooting himself in a little closer to her. "I can be happy you're here and sad she's gone at the same time, you know. Emotions are complex and funny that way."
Gamora shifts to properly face him as they talk. It's intimate in a way that she doesn't know all too well yet. She rolls her eyes at his response. He has her there.
"Funnier than you." She fires back dryly. Gamora lapses into silence as she considers how to convey what she's truly thinking. "I am sorry for your loss. I don't want you to face it alone." She gestures at the empty space between them. "Clearly."
Peter can't help but smile at the comeback, but it's a soft smile with hazy edges this time. Though he's definitely not in a rush to sleep, the in-and-out on the precipice of sleep is always so pleasant; her being here only elevates the experience.
"Then don't leave," he suggests, knowing it's too fast but unable to take it back now. Not that he would even if he felt capable of it. "Just for tonight."
It is too fast. Gamora may have been willing to kiss him earlier, but sharing a space together is far more intimidating. She knows logically Peter will sooner harm himself than her. She is safe with him. It's another to let her guard down long enough to sleep.
Her heart twists painfully at the thought of leaving him alone when he's this vulnerable. That fear of being close to anyone is outweighed by her empathy for this strange man. She can't agree until he knows exactly what could happen.
"I don't sleep well. If I do manage it, there's a chance I may harm you." It's as close as she can get to admitting freedom didn't automatically undo decades of damage.
At first, he's worried he's messed things up permanently, watching those red eyes weigh options. Her warning is a familiar one, and that sends an ice-cold dagger through the center of his chest, but his smile never wavers despite the sadness in his eyes. Then again, that's been a constant since he lost her. Maybe it will never change, maybe he doesn't want it to.
"Don't worry. Medbay's just down the hall," he reminds her, sliding in even closer until his minty breath washes across her face. The truth is she can't hurt him more than he's already hurt, but somehow her presence makes it sweeter. He reaches for her arm with his free hand, walking his fingers across her skin until his hot hand coils around hers and holds on for dear life. "Already told you there ain't nothing you can do to make me turn on you, Gamora. That's what family means - it's an unbreakable bond."
The minty scent is pleasant and soothing. It's a sharp contrast to the way her heart picks up as he moves in closer. She's more hyperaware of him than usual. Gamora can't blame her implants for it. There's something about Peter specifically that draws her in. His touch sparks an (uncomfortable) fire within her. She glances down at their combined hands, choosing to direct her words at them rather than Peter. It's hard to be vulnerable for anyone, but, especially for the former assassin. It feels impossible and yet for him, she does it without thinking it through.
"Family has only ever brought me suffering." False and real alike. Maybe that's too harsh. She's building something good with Nebula these days. At the moment she can only see where it's gone wrong. "I don't want to hurt you or worse because I allowed myself to give in." She knows she could kill him. It'd only take one second. That's one nightmare she doesn't think she could work past.
He frowns at that statement, but realizes before he met her - well, the first Gamora - he would've said the same thing. Now he has a sister, he found out he had a father all along who loved him. He has the Ravagers and the Guardians and now even two displaced sisters of Thanos under the broad wings of his Milano. It's frustrating every time he lets it sink in that she's behind his clock. He wants to be the man he was then for her, but he's who he is now instead. Peter knows now that she feels the same in the opposite direction, and it isn't really any sort of consolation, is it?
"I don't think you'll hurt me." She never has even when he deserved it. In the midst of a nightmare... she's still an extremely precise killing machine. It shouldn't be a comfort, but that doesn't matter now. It's his turn to be her soft landing. "Just trust me to trust you, alright? Tomorrow you can go back to bein' worried."
Trust me to trust you. It doesn't even make any logical sense. How does his trust mean anything if it's totally misplaced? Peter is her harbor in a terrible storm. Ridiculous or not, he says trust me and she does. She certainly trusts him more than herself.
Her eyes seek his. Peter looks so sad. He's always sad, it seems. They're beautiful too. For a moment, Gamora allows herself to get lost in them. She clears her throat a few awkward seconds later. "I do trust you." She admits as her gaze returns to those hands like they're the most interesting thing in the world. "Will you keep holding my hand?" It makes her feel secure in a way she thinks might allow this night to be peaceful. It can't hurt in any case.
Latching onto her gaze has always been second nature to him, and he finds himself addicted to the pull of it this time. She's seeking eye contact more and more, which seems like it could be a good sign. Peter blows out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding onto when she finally looks down, throat catching all over again at the way she declares that so easily. Peter knows how precious her trust is and he vows to himself in that moment never to break it, not this time. His fingers lace through hers and he holds fast at the request, taking it seriously even if to someone else it might seem insignificant. He knows it's like a lifeline for them both right now.
The lights start to dim around them, taking a queue from how still they are, but Peter feels further than ever from sleep. "I won't let go if you don't."
It settles something within her to be linked this way. Whatever comes next they can face together so long as they are hand in hand. Her life has so much uncertainty between the emerging memories and lack of goal. As terrible as it was, Thanos provided an endpoint for her. She doesn't know what to do without the awful structure he provided.
It does get more manageable by the day. Moments like this cement why. "I'm not letting go." Another vow. She has so many tonight. "How do you usually fall asleep?" The darkening room seems as much of a hint as any to get some actual rest.
His smile slowly creeps back over his face, the exhaustion tinged with mirth seemingly swallowing up the grief for the moment being. "Uh... listening to my music was always the go-to. Lately, I've been reading too, it helps to hear someone else's words in my head for a while." So he can't drive himself insane with his own and with the endless loop of memories inside his head. Meredith, Yondu and Gamora are somehow always still behind his eyelids when he does get there no matter how he accomplished the seemingly insurmountable task.
Gamora ponders the information. Much to her frustration, she has nothing. There's no way she can think of to help Peter which irrationally upsets her. "Any story I could tell you would be horrific." She admits in frustration. "What would you like me to do?" She's here to help. Gamora just has no clue how.
He can hear the stress in her voice and his thumb soothingly strokes her palm. "Hey, I don't need you to do anything for me. It's just enough that you're here." This is already way further than he thought they would get, after all. And her voice is a balm to his ears even if it still occasionally confuses him. "But for the record, bedtime stories don't have to be true. I'm pretty sure most of them aren't - if for some reason, you wanted to make something up..."
The gesture quickly soothes her. Her mind is still racing for a narrative to spin. She's not as talented as the singers in Peter's songs. She tries for something personal and fantastic like them. "How about a story about sisters? Once there were two sisters who loved each other very much. They spent every day playing games in the forest near their home. Regardless of who won, they were happy with the outcome as long as they were together." It's a pleasant fantasy for Gamora. She pauses here to see if Peter likes it or not.
He bites into his lip to keep from appearing too pleased at her attempt to follow his suggestion. The moment she mentions sisters, he can't help but think of her and Nebula, of course. And as she goes on, it does seem like a nice fantasy compared to how they were really like, as he knows. Peter nods, wanting to see where this goes.
"What happened next?" he asks softly in encouragement, his gaze delving deep into hers.
Gamora smiles shyly, quickly encouraged by his interest. The next part comes more naturally. Every story must have a problem. She knows the natural one for the sisters. "A villain appeared." She points out with the appropriate amount of dramatic flair. "He'd been watching them from afar. He suggested a new game to play that neither sister thought was very nice. He wasn't willing to take no for an answer so the sisters exchanged a look and accepted his proposal. They led him deep into the forest they loved so much."
There always does need to be a conflict, unfortunately. Peter finds himself growing a bit anxious even though he knows the danger has passed and additionally, he thinks he knows the direction this story is headed. He props his head up on his free hand to become a more active listener for her, nodding again for her to continue.
She continues with his encouragement. "The girls followed his game to the letter. The eldest of the two sisters won once the competition ran its course. The villain was pleased. The game had been a test. Now he could give the girl whatever her heart desired once the other sister was disposed of. She had proven her value to him." Gamora's breath hitches here. This is a little too close to comfort, but she soldiers on. She likes where she is taking this story.
"What he failed to realize all the girl wanted was her sister. Nothing could tear them apart. As he went on about his grand plans for the victor, the other sister sprung a trap. The girls played many games. One of them was to create traps in case someone like the villain ever found them. With a few quick swings of her knife, the younger sister sent branches flying down upon the villain. He was impaled on them as the sisters went for cover."
It has an edge in reality, however, it's really the fictional pieces that send it. Peter finds himself nervous for the girls and then excited when they win, even if it's predictable. She had spoiled that it would be a good ending at the start, but he was still invested in their victory all the same.
"And then they lived happily ever after together forever?" he asks for confirmation, voice small and hopeful as he grips her hand like the lifeline it is.
She feels a wave of giddy glee at how much Peter is enjoying this. Gamora is unmatched with a blade. This is new and different from anything she's ever done before. The former assassin nods. "They lived happily ever after. The example they made of the villain granted them protection for the rest of their days. No one ever dared to cross the sisters again." Gamora smiles big once the story wraps up. "Did you like it? I know it isn't as good as the tales Dolly Parton weaves..."
"I loved it," he corrects her, his other hand reaching out to touch at her hair out of habit before he's withdrawing it again. "You're just missing some finer detail, the structure is there. I bet you could get that good if you worked at it enough."
He hasn't felt this content in a long time, and it shows on his countenance which usually only reflects depression and deep-seated exhaustion. Peter is impressed too that she remembered Dolly's name correctly. Maybe the two of them aren't entirely hopeless after all.
She watches his hand as it touches her hair in slow motion. She could stop him. She should stop him. Gamora doesn't. It's nice in a strange way like most things involving Peter Quill. She nods, feeling encouraged more so. She promises herself she will think of one with more details next time.
"Do you have any stories?" Surely a man who spends so much of his life listening to them would have some of his own.
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That hopeful look nearly breaks her heart. Gamora doesn't shrink back from it. She actually does know what he needs to do. "Find a way to let her go." It sounds self-serving even to her ears. Gamora knows she needs to explain.
She takes her wrist back to hold gently as if his touch has left a mark on her that only she can see. "One thing I know about the woman you loved is that she fought to be free. Right now the man she loves isn't. You're a slave to your grief, Peter Quill. It controls every part of your life. If not for yourself, do it for her." She can't imagine her counterpart will ever know peace like this. Gamora knows better than to actually say the words.
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"What if I don't know how?" he asks with a hoarse crackle in his voice. This ship echoes Gamora down every hall to say nothing of the woman laying in his bed right now. "I know I have to, I know you're right... she would hate to see me this." Peter's eyes cast downward as he tries to force the tears back in. "Sorry... again, sorry. You don't deserve to have this put on you."
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A dark chuckle escapes her at that word. Deserve. "This isn't about what we deserve, Peter." Her hands ball into fists as she allows herself to be angry for his sake as much as that woman she'll never be. "She did everything I never had the courage to do. She escaped on her own. She protected her sister from him. She allowed herself to love again and build a new family. The universe responded by allowing her to be stolen again, killed, and replaced by someone else."
Gamora hates it. She truly does want to exist. She is all too aware of how unfair it is that it's her instead of the original Gamora. "You're kind to try to spare my feelings, but it isn't necessary. I would have gone mad in your position from the injustice alone. If the worst you do is talk to me about it, you're a better man than this universe deserves."
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"Thought it wasn't about 'deserve,'" he points out cheekily, scooting himself in a little closer to her. "I can be happy you're here and sad she's gone at the same time, you know. Emotions are complex and funny that way."
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"Funnier than you." She fires back dryly. Gamora lapses into silence as she considers how to convey what she's truly thinking. "I am sorry for your loss. I don't want you to face it alone." She gestures at the empty space between them. "Clearly."
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"Then don't leave," he suggests, knowing it's too fast but unable to take it back now. Not that he would even if he felt capable of it. "Just for tonight."
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Her heart twists painfully at the thought of leaving him alone when he's this vulnerable. That fear of being close to anyone is outweighed by her empathy for this strange man. She can't agree until he knows exactly what could happen.
"I don't sleep well. If I do manage it, there's a chance I may harm you." It's as close as she can get to admitting freedom didn't automatically undo decades of damage.
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"Don't worry. Medbay's just down the hall," he reminds her, sliding in even closer until his minty breath washes across her face. The truth is she can't hurt him more than he's already hurt, but somehow her presence makes it sweeter. He reaches for her arm with his free hand, walking his fingers across her skin until his hot hand coils around hers and holds on for dear life. "Already told you there ain't nothing you can do to make me turn on you, Gamora. That's what family means - it's an unbreakable bond."
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"Family has only ever brought me suffering." False and real alike. Maybe that's too harsh. She's building something good with Nebula these days. At the moment she can only see where it's gone wrong. "I don't want to hurt you or worse because I allowed myself to give in." She knows she could kill him. It'd only take one second. That's one nightmare she doesn't think she could work past.
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"I don't think you'll hurt me." She never has even when he deserved it. In the midst of a nightmare... she's still an extremely precise killing machine. It shouldn't be a comfort, but that doesn't matter now. It's his turn to be her soft landing. "Just trust me to trust you, alright? Tomorrow you can go back to bein' worried."
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Her eyes seek his. Peter looks so sad. He's always sad, it seems. They're beautiful too. For a moment, Gamora allows herself to get lost in them. She clears her throat a few awkward seconds later. "I do trust you." She admits as her gaze returns to those hands like they're the most interesting thing in the world. "Will you keep holding my hand?" It makes her feel secure in a way she thinks might allow this night to be peaceful. It can't hurt in any case.
UGH THAT ICON IS SO CUTE
The lights start to dim around them, taking a queue from how still they are, but Peter feels further than ever from sleep. "I won't let go if you don't."
one of my faves. i don't use it enough!!
It does get more manageable by the day. Moments like this cement why. "I'm not letting go." Another vow. She has so many tonight. "How do you usually fall asleep?" The darkening room seems as much of a hint as any to get some actual rest.
Re: one of my faves. i don't use it enough!!
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"What happened next?" he asks softly in encouragement, his gaze delving deep into hers.
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"What he failed to realize all the girl wanted was her sister. Nothing could tear them apart. As he went on about his grand plans for the victor, the other sister sprung a trap. The girls played many games. One of them was to create traps in case someone like the villain ever found them. With a few quick swings of her knife, the younger sister sent branches flying down upon the villain. He was impaled on them as the sisters went for cover."
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"And then they lived happily ever after together forever?" he asks for confirmation, voice small and hopeful as he grips her hand like the lifeline it is.
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He hasn't felt this content in a long time, and it shows on his countenance which usually only reflects depression and deep-seated exhaustion. Peter is impressed too that she remembered Dolly's name correctly. Maybe the two of them aren't entirely hopeless after all.
"And I'm here anytime you wanna practice."
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"Do you have any stories?" Surely a man who spends so much of his life listening to them would have some of his own.
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