video; @star.lord

[nostalgiabomb]

[ INT. Shared Housing, Floor 13, Room 4 – Very Late Night.

We open on a shot of the living space in one of the many shared housing units. It's dark in the messy room, with a couple of red jackets tossed onto the backs of chairs. Nearby, soft snores are audible.

In frame is a small, wooden creature, his giant eyes squinting with concentration as he stares at the screen. An old, beat-up mp3 player and a Sony Walkman sit beside him on the coffee table. The little creature mumbles a tiny, irritated— ]

I am Groot?

[ —in the same tone of voice someone else might use to ask, “How the hell do you work this thing?” He pokes at the screen fruitlessly for a while, but soon enough, his eyes light up as he shoves his hand forward one last time.

Suddenly, “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by the illustrious AC/DC shrieks over stereo speakers.

DONE. DIRT. CHEAP.

Sorry about your beauty sleep, Floor 13. And probably Floors 12 and 14.

The sapling yelps, scrambling and panicking to figure out how to stop this crazy thing, just as a sleep-tousled Star-Lord stumbles into frame, flicking on a light. Barely audible over the music, ]

Groot, what are you—?

[ Busted.

Peter picks up the device, sees that it’s recording, and he grimaces. ]

Oh, son of a—

[ Which is when the feed and the music both cut out. ]

Comments

[godslay]

[ Gamora doesn't miss the way he winces, and she eases back to minimize the contact – though she doesn't break away entirely. ]

We both should. It's still too early to get up.

[ Not that she should rest because of this... sickness. Obviously. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He gives an uncertain sort of shrug. ]

I, uh. Still have a certain insomniac kid to lecture.

[ And if he’s honest, Peter doubts he’s going to get much sleep after this, because his mind keeps barfing up memories of hospital stays and thin, creaking cots and the crackling voices over P.A. systems and his mother, slowly wasting away, while her radiant smile became less and less vibrant and—

He clears his throat. ]

I’ll catch up.

[godslay]

[ There's something in the lift of his shoulders, the rasp of his throat, and Gamora scrutinizes him wordlessly for a few, long moments. ]

... Peter?

[ It's questioning, an unspoken "what's wrong?" clinging to the tone. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He hears the unspoken question, and it's instinct, the way he shakes his head, the way he holds up a hand. ]

It's nothing you need to worry about.

[ And he says it gently, reassuringly. ]

Don't let me keep you up.

[godslay]

[ She doesn't entirely unwind, but she finally nods, leaning closer to kiss his cheek. ]

Don't be long.

[ She squeezes his hand, then lets the contact break so she can head back to the bedroom. She pauses to rub the top of Groot's head, combined with a somewhat chastising look, and then she's plucking up her sword and retreating to bed to crawl under the covers. ]