riverview | video; @star.lord

[ Distinguished and not-so distinguished residents of Riverview, hello.

Currently, you are graced with a mugshot of one Peter “Space-Duke” Quill and a view of the messier half of his shared apartment. In his hand is his trusty mp3 player – which boasts at least three hundred songs, holy crap, y’all – and while he has one bud in his ear, the other dangles from the wire. ]

So. Apparently if nothing else, this place has, like, all the music ever. So if I’ve gotta be stuck here, might as well make the most of it, right?

I’m on the hunt for somethin’ new. Tryin’ to play a whole lot of catch up. If anyone’s got any music recommendations, I’m all ears. Songs, artists, albums, weird, avant-garde stuff with a guy saying “number nine” over and over – hit me with your best shot. I’ll try anything once.

Also, uh.

[ A pause, and he turns the mp3 player’s face toward the camera. The screen happily displays the album art of The Best of Earth, Wind & Fire, Vol. 1 while “September” plays. Zunes, man!! Aren’t they rad? ]

Don’t suppose anyone here’s familiar enough with this that they can show me how to add stuff?

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[ Gamora realizes that she's not optimistic, but— ]

I hope so.

[ She offers his wrist a small squeeze in return. ]

I should have discussed this with you before.

[ Especially considering she'd been asking Nebula to stay already without consulting Peter or the others, but... she'd turned her down anyway. ]

[ He shakes his head. ]

I never asked.

[ And he says it apologetically. He should have asked. It's his job, isn't it? The captain should always know what's going on with his team.

(He'll never know how Yondu did it.

But then again, considering how relatively easy it had been for Peter to snatch a job right out from under Yondu's nose, maybe Yondu never got the hang of it, either.) ]

If you want her with us, she's welcome.

... You might get some pushback from Rocket, though.

[ There's reassurance in Gamora's eyes, forgiveness and a promise that she isn't upset by the fact that Peter hadn't asked.

(She hadn't been in a rush to revisit it, after all.) ]

Rocket can get over it.

[ Because if Nebula wants to stay, Gamora will make sure she has a place.

Even if that means mediating or directly breaking up a fight or two. ]

... Are you all right?

[ This question is somewhat more tentative; she knows how much he'd rather shove all that they've discussed back into the dark, but they've dragged it to the surface now, put it out in the open. She wants to make sure he doesn't need something in the wake of it, that she isn't neglecting his well-being. ]

[ Peter huffs out a laugh at that. ]

So long as you're playing mediator, not me.

[ ... which is a lie. Peter will surely stick his neck into more than a few arguments if need be. It's his job.

As for her question, he lifts a shoulder in a shrug, letting a hand drop from her arm. ]

I'm fine.

[ The automatic answer. ]

I'm... dealing.

[ which is to say, he's ignoring it. Today was a setback in his attempt at Denial, but he can get back on track, he figures. ]

Are you?

[ Because she knows there's a distinct different between dealing with something and pretending it isn't there. The latter seems to make it all the more explosive when it does reemerge.

Processing and just waiting for it all to disappear isn't the same thing.

She doesn't drop her hand from his wrist, maintaining that contact and watching his face. ]

[ Oh, crap. It's really hard to avoid her gaze when she's watching him like that, but he tries anyway, gaze darting off to a cluster of flowers nearby – some strange plant with delicate, translucent purple petals. ]

Yeah. I'm— figuring it out.

[ He licks his lips, hesitating, then, ]

Sorry I snapped at you earlier.

[ The avoidance doesn't exactly lend any kind of reassurance, and the way he can't quite make himself look up only seems to reinforce that he isn't okay. ]

It's all right. I'm not angry.

[ She hadn't even truly been angry then, either. She'd been purposefully prodding at open wounds, and she'd expected him to lash out.

It was different from their fight on Ego – less personal, on her end. She was able to brush it off, to focus on Peter. ]

You know you are allowed to not be fine, Peter.

[ He lets out a dismissive sound – a puff of air between his teeth. ]

I know that.

[ He's pretty sure he might have given that advice to someone in the past, but rarely does he ever practice what he preaches. ]

But it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm fine. Or I will be.

I have a lot of shit to process, is all.

[ Gamora nods, seeming content that he's acknowledged that fact.

(Coming out of something so massive without need to process would be unfathomable.) ]

If you need to talk, I'm willing to listen.

[ He's her friend – her best friend – and though she feels she has no real clue of how to do this right... she wants to leave the option open. ]

[ That manages to make him relax a little, manages to pull him away from the bristling edge he was working himself up to.

Softly, ]

I know that, too.

[ And he does, and it's— weird, now, having someone he can trust, having someone he can turn to when things get rough. It's even weirder, knowing someone's got his back, that someone actually gives a shit when life tries its best to beat him into a bloody pulp.

And man, is he glad that person's Gamora.

He doesn't quite smile, but there's a hint of one at the corner of his eyes. ]

Thank you, though. Seriously.

[ She can see it there – something softer, gentler, and it mirrors itself on her own face. (Not quite a smile, but not that same flatness she'd so often have affect.) ]

Of course.

[ She shifts her hand from his wrist to his fingers, gently pulling it away from her arm – but without releasing his hand along the way. ]

Do you want to stay here longer?

[ Hand-holding.

Okay.

This is becoming a thing, isn't it? And maybe a couple of months ago, Peter might have bristled, might have figured something like this would mean he's gone soft, or that he's getting "domestic" or some other stupid bullshit. Right now, it's just—

Comfortable. ]

... Yeah. Few more minutes, I think.

Hey. You wanna go find those trees again?

[ Hand-holding is just as unfamiliar to Gamora, given the only other time she can recall having her hand "held" was whenever one of her siblings was attempting to break her grip or snap one of her fingers.

But then there was Peter. And Berhert. And—

Moments like this.

Her fingers curl around his, tentative but not reluctant. ]

Yes. It should be just as private as before.

[ The upside of being off the garden's main path. ]

[ He flashes her a soft smile, his fingers squeezing around hers in turn – a little more certainly than her, but Peter's used to being given an inch and going a mile. ]

C'mon, then.

[ A quick tug, and he drops her hand to grin at her. ]

Race you?

[ And it's a relief to see that grin on his face. After so much weighing them down, they need something light.

She meets his grin with a cock of a brow, openly challenging. ]

Then I hope you're prepared to lose.

[ He lets out a laugh, pleased.

And also? He just. Starts running.

Fuck countdowns and playing fair. ]

[ Of course he doesn't count down. She doesn't know why she expected he might, and as exasperated as she is when he just suddenly takes off in the other direction, there's still a small smirk tugging at her lips.

She does love competition.

She bolts after him into the trees, pushing her legs to catch up. ]

video; @star.lord

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