aromantically | ( OPEN ) Peter Q

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.

"And I'm here anytime you wanna practice."

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.

Peter has a million stories that run through his head from movies, TV shows, and books... but shouldn't he nod to Gamora's efforts and re-tell the story of his family as well? Peter smiles softly as he decides, realizing he's never vocalized things quite this way before and he's eager to get started.

"There was a boy whose mom was dying of brain cancer. She told him his father came from the stars and even though no one else believed her, he did. The boy looked up at the sky every night to see if he could catch a glimpse of his dad. The other kids at school would make fun of him for it so he started carrying around a picture of the famous actor, David Hasselhoff, and telling them he was just busy filming Knightrider so he couldn't come back and forth to Missouri all the time..."

Where Gamora's story was light on details, as usual, Peter includes too many. Even those she has no way of understanding. He scoots all the way in to try and pull strength to tell her the next part, their knees brushing as he has to place their joined hands on his leg when there's no more room between them on the bed.

"Then one day, while he was at the hospital with his mom, she died. He fought with his grandpa about it and ran away with only his backpack. Little did he know, his real dad was a bad man. The baddest in all the galaxy, maybe other than that villain from the last story... And that night, when he looked up at the sky, a spaceship appeared among the stars. The boy thought it had to be his dad and since his mom had died, he went with very little resistance into the weird ship and was taken up into space."

Peter closes his eyes a moment, trying to remember how it felt to be weightless that first time. He sat in front of the window as the Ravagers took off, taking in the night sky from a whole new angle. Peter fell in love with space and flying in that one instant, without knowing that would become his very identity into adulthood. He swallows, his eyes blinking back open suddenly so that his eyelashes brush the sharp edge of her cheekbone.

"The captain of the ship was hard and mean and not at all what the boy had pictured his dad being like. But over time... he proved himself to be the best daddy any boy could ever have. He taught him how to shoot a blaster, how to hack security systems, how to fly spaceships, and even how to talk to girls."

Peter wants his story to be happy like hers, so he holds the emotion out of his voice the best he can, waiting for any reaction to the tale he's weaving for her. For both of them, really.

Gamora is enthralled by his stories in this life much like the previous one. While there is some tension when he comes close, that long-engrained fear that someone is getting in close for the kill, the former assassin doesn't shrink away. She finds she likes their combined warmth. She likes the feeling of her hand on his firm leg. Gamora especially loves hearing his voice as he shares something so deeply personal to him.

She commits every detail to memory. Whatever strangeness there is between them, Gamora knows he's important to her. She wants to know him better.

Her heart aches for his mother. For Peter to come from such a cruel man seems impossible. He's so good. The daddy that follows stops her from pointing out how impossible that seems just yet. She smiles, enjoying this turn of events for Peter. She also enjoys how soft those lashes are against her skin. That's an entirely different matter.

"My true father was a hard man too," Gamora admits when the story pauses. "What did the boy do with the captain? Did they travel the galaxy together?" She asks with a child-like curiosity. She really does love his stories.

Peter's lips curve up at her admission, wondering if it's starting to click for her yet how similar their origins really are. His gaze focuses on the tip of her nose, grateful he doesn't have to meet her gaze properly from this vantage point. Her question is bright and innocent and almost has him spilling the truth of the matter before he remembers abruptly he's telling historical fiction.

"Oh, yes," Peter intones warmly, nodding to seal in his answer as he pictures it as if it had been true. He clings to every false image that springs up, water gathering in his already doelike eyes. "They were such a great team that as the boy grew up, they did everything together. The captain made his adopted son the second-in-command and the crew embraced him the way he had never found friends on Earth. It was just like the family he had lost, and even better since it was their choice to stick together."

His hand tightens in hers and he shuts his eyes, breath hitching as Ego's ruggedly handsome face imprints on the back of his eyelids sinisterly.

"Although the boy had found a new family to accept him, and now he wasn't a boy anymore but a man, he couldn't help but to still be curious about his biological father. And then one day, when their ship was locked in a terrible space battle, a strange craft appears to rescue them. The captain of that ship is everything the man thought his dad would be: kind and soft-spoken with flowing locks and warm brown eyes just like David Hasselhoff. It seems too good to be true, but he needs to know the truth. He goes back to his father's homeworld, abducted for the second time, but this time to a stunningly beautiful place. He falls in love with the landscape and wonders if it could be his home too, allowing himself to dream. But when the sun goes down, his father's assistant wakes him up to show him the truth of his identity. The man finds out that his father had killed all of his siblings... and his mother, but before he can regret how foolish he had been, his real dad and the crew show up to save him."

This version of the story is still a bit sad, he realizes, if only because it means he never met Gamora or formed the Guardians. But Peter supposes, he can make up for that in sequels. Why can't they write their own story now together after losing so much? Isn't that okay? He hopes desperately that his Gamora would be at peace with that idea, because he can't picture abandoning this Gamora now after it all. He pauses here too, wondering if she can remember Ego or any glimpses from that time. The thought scares him into finishing the story.

"The man and his daddy defeat the bad guy together when he teaches his son one last lesson: how to defend what he loves with his heart. Many people think brains, guts, and physical strength make a man strong, but the daddy was wise and knew better. He told him it comes from love and so, against all odds, they killed the David Hasselhoff imposter and rescued the woman who had been the only one to ever escape his wrath. The man found out it was actually his sister all along and his dad adopted her too, and they became a big happy family traveling the universe together. Except now they weren't thieves no more, but heroes."

Gamora is starting to draw a connection between the two of them. Both came from monsters in a sense, had true fathers who loved them dearly even while being difficult men, and mothers slain by monsters. Both ended their journeys with an unlikely sister.

The story itself is perfect. It might be easy to think once upon a time a younger Gamora may have loved a good story before bed. She actually feels herself grow tired as Peter goes on. She never loses focus on the tale. She visualizes every bit, her heart soaring at every triumph. Gamora worries for Peter even knowing it all clearly worked out.

She sighs contently at the end against his face. "That's such a good story." Gamora praises warmly. In a rare twist, there's no flash of memory to contradict anything Peter has said. It may as well be fairly close to the truth. "I like the part where he gets a sister best." Her voice is audibly drowsier. Good luck getting her to admit she is tired. With her modifications, she can get away with not sleeping for a very long time. It's their combined warmth and such pleasant imagery that makes Gamora feel this way.

Edited 2023-05-31 03:36 (UTC)

Though physically, Peter is much weaker and needs far more rest than Gamora, being close to her like this does anything but make him want to sleep. Still, he would be hard-pressed to relinquish their gained proximity now. He chuckles lowly, and if she hears some water in his tone it isn't imagined.

"Me too," he admits, voice crackling a bit which could easily be explained away by overuse. And his decibel does lower as a result, almost a whisper as he grows mindful of the late hour and her increasing drowsiness. "Somehow somethin' beautiful always comes from pain. Like how diamonds can only be made under extreme pressure."

She presses against him unconsciously, relishing the heat of their bodies. Gamora smiles as the words comfort her. It's a nice thought, especially for someone who has just barely escaped a lifetime of imprisonment and brainwashing. "Like a sister." Gamora agrees. "The next story should have them all meet." She decides having just thought of something as novel as a crossover. It's her last thought before falling into a black, dreamless sleep.

A smile curves his face softly at her last words, watching her drift off knowingly. He pushes some hair from her face that had fallen out of the braid before wrapping his free hand around her, determined not to feel guilty just this once for taking something they clearly both need right now if the way she huddles against him even in sleep is any indicator. Although it does take him significantly more time to fall under, his rest is similarly peaceful, and he even sleeps for more hours than he can remember stringing together for a long stretch now. At least, without the aid of alcohol or another substance.

"Gamora," he sighs in that plane between sleep and waking, his voice joyfully pitchy as her scent fills his nostrils and the press of their bodies keeps full consciousness pleasantly at bay. He doesn't fully grasp that this isn't his Gamora, perhaps, and why they shouldn't be so intimately entwined. His face is nestled into her throat and one of his legs braced between hers as his hand splays against the small of her back under her t-shirt.

Gamora for her part does not realize this kind of intimacy is abnormal as she sleeps. The Warrior feels a sense of security from their current positioning. Peter is covering her vulnerable points. He is keeping her warm even if she doesn't particularly need to be. As the waking world slowly makes itself known, Gamora begins to realize how wrong this is. The familiar intrusive thought starts to make itself known: allowing someone this close gives them the right to stick the knife in as deeply as they want. She can hear Thanos' voice ringing in her ears telling her what a disappointment his daughter is for getting so sentimental over a weak Terran. It feels so real that for a second Gamora is convinced he really is there.

Gamora draws back from Peter in a rush. One hand flies to one of her hidden blades, the other firmly on Peter's shoulder to push him close enough to be shielded by her body as she goes to stab a monster who isn't there. At first, she's confused and panting like she's out of breath. Just as quickly it hits her that her abuser is dead. She watched him turn into dust. Thanos cannot harm them. "Foolish." Gamora spits out venomously. She releases Peter to (predictably) begin the process of running away.

On some level, he was aware of how this could end. It's telling that he was still perfectly willing to take the risk, though not surprising given his general lack of self-preservation especially where Gamora is concerned. He's awake by the time she's grabbing the knife, sidetracked briefly by wondering where she hid it as he hazily glances over his shoulder to see the blade glance by him and slice through the air. At least it wasn't his head, he reasons, frowning at the tone of her voice even if he can't grasp just yet what's going on.

"Where are you going?" he gets out with a crackly morning voice, leaning back against his pillow as he rubs at one eyeball with a knuckle. It's impossible not to smile as she comes into focus despite the scowl she's wearing.

Gamora stops her stomping long enough to answer the question. She is torn between being furious with Peter for being a weakness to exploit, grateful he is safe, and then for daring to smile at her when she is feeling so out of control. She hates herself for still being terrified of a dead man. "Out." She yells unnecessarily before completing her stomping out.

It lacks a punch as she is forced to acknowledge they're in space. There isn't room to really go further than her quarters. Gamora heads that way to change into regular attire, splash some water on her face, and in general just calm down.

She emerges to what passes for their kitchen a good fifteen minutes later to track down something to drink. Gamora tells herself she is not avoiding Peter and the complicated swirl of emotions he's drawing out of her.

Peter allows himself to lay there and watch her go, sighing to himself as she disappears from the doorway. He holds out hope for five minutes or so, but when he's sure she isn't coming back he forces himself up to get ready for the day. Even though it's the last thing he wants to be doing, Peter finds himself replaying her attack on the ghost by his bed while he's numbly going through his morning routine. Somehow, it's more disturbing than if she had just attacked him the way she warned him she might. But then it's sinking in how she covered him, protecting him from the invisible threat...

It feels like ages later that he makes it down to the galley himself, but it can't be as late as he thinks it is because the others haven't fully descended onto them yet from their separate sects of the ship's bowels. That and he didn't actually expect Gam to still be in the communal area for them to run into one another.

Peter clears his throat softly though he knows there's no real way to sneak up on her, offering a lame little nod when his eyes alight on hers briefly. "We're still going for those trees, right? They sounded real pretty."

( OPEN ) Peter Q

UGH THAT ICON IS SO CUTE

one of my faves. i don't use it enough!!

Re: one of my faves. i don't use it enough!!

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