snowblindrpg | Event: Consolidation Theory, Part One and Two

It sounds much better with the both of them, and she finds herself smiling in spite of the harrowing situation. It's nice to feel close again, and ridiculous that the mere proximity makes her feel better. He might be right next to her, but the wall between them means he's just as unreachable as he has been, contact possible only through tablets, so close (never more than a day's travel time) and still so far away.

"Some day when your head is much lighter..."

She needs this, too. Which obviously isn't something she's going to admit. No, this is community service. This is her way to save everyone from the cacophony that was coming from his cell so recently.

So close. So far.

He's leaning his head back, and he's not here, he's on the ship and he's got the music playing loud and he hasn't seen snow in ages and he's had three square meals a day and he's free--and Rocket's there, building something dangerous, Drax is puttering around looking after Groot and Mantis is wandering after Drax and Gamora's there next to him instead of behind this wall and Norfinbury is nothing but a distant memory--and he's steering the ship past a planet as the light of a system's star glints against the glass--

--and he misses seeing stars so much he can't stand it--

--and everything is good, even if it's just for one moment--

"Some day, yeah, we'll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun..."

Edited 2018-04-29 13:33 (UTC)

Gamora can't do that. She can find the quiet calm place inside herself, but she's never been good at being someplace else, at stretching the imagination quite that far. Mostly because, growing up, there was never a safe place to retreat to in the universe outside of herself. Only her own mind was ever safe.

But she does take her comfort in imagining Drax and Mantis fussing over Groot in their absence, in thinking that Rocket might have been sent back, somehow, after-- what happened. She takes comfort in thinking that Nebula is safe, wherever she is, and that they all have the means to care for themselves. She can't imagine herself home. The best she can do is imaging that the wall is gone, that she and Peter are back to back, that they can take care of one another.

"Some day when the world is much brighter..."

She's not choking up. She's not.

"Ooh-oo child, things are gonna get easier..."

He turns around to face the wall when he hears her voice do that thing, and he presses his head and palms against the wall. So close, he needs to be there, this damn wall, he wants to make this better even though he can't and maybe that would just be sitting there with her--

--this isn't fair, this isn't fair!

He slams his fist against the wall, but there's no power to it, and it's only the slightest knock.

"No matter what happens," his voice hitches, and he's not choking up either, nope. "We're gettin' out of here. I promise."

"Hey. Don't. I believe you. We are getting out of there." She doesn't get up, but she does turn her head and press her cheek against the wall. They're going to be fine. They've survived worse than this. They can do anything together. "We're going home. Together. We're going home, and everything is going to go back to normal. Two peas in pods." She's not quite because she's sad. She's quiet because she's very aware that they're in a room full of people and this is not a public conversation. This is theirs. She's missed this.

"We're getting out of here." He repeats it, it makes it more real. They are going to get out of here and go home and he never has to deal with snow ever again.

"Normal. I like normal. Well, our normal. Which isn't so normal? But it's a good normal." Babbling endlessly about nothing makes it easier than dealing with things.

But a chuckle escapes him, and his voice quiets down to match hers.

"Two peas in pods."

He missed this so much.

"That's right. One pod. I like that better. I'd share a pod with you." That one, she'd genuinely forgotten. Peter has only said it once before. Two peas in a pod. It's nice.

Once they're done with all this, maybe she'll sit him down, try to make him understand. Understand what it means for her, why she left their group. He knows part of it, of course, but not all of it. Because there are things she holds back, things that she keeps private, to protect herself. A habit, and one that's not easy to break. If there's one person she'd like to break it for, though, that one person is Peter.

Fucking wall.

"Sharing a pod with me? That's the nicest thing I've heard all day." Oh man. He wants to be in that pod right now--

"Of course, most of what I've been hearing is people yelling at me to shut up, but you know what I mean."

He taps the wall twice, knocking against it with a fist.

"I swear if they did anything to my Zune..."

"You'll torture them with that same racket you were forcing me to endure a few minutes ago?" She forces the corners of her lips up into a smile, because he once told her he could hear it. He told her that he could hear when he'd made her smile, and that was why he never stopped trying. Of course, said in his own particularly charmless Peter way, but the sentiment had rung true.

She reaches up and knocks against the wall in the same place. She starts humming the tune to Ooh Child again, softly, because it's their thing. It's their reminder of victory. It's the universe's weirdest battle call.

"Or worse, right? I mean, you wouldn't get mad at me if I did an 'or worse?' Because that definitely deserves an 'or worse.'" He can hear her smiling and that helps more than anything. It helps so much and he can imagine it, imagining her exasperated, amused look and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Please continue the universe's weirdest battle call, Gamora. Peter tries to keep a beat by knocking against the wall some more. It's calming, and for a few seconds at a time he can imagine he's not here. And that's everything.

"You forget that I'm still stuck listening to it. So, yeah, I'd get mad. Just like home." Where she's mad at him every other day for some stupid thing or another, because he's doing some stupid thing or another, because that's what they do. They get into trouble, they get out of trouble. Mostly getting in. The getting out is always trickier. It's easier with more of them, though. Or, no, that's not true. Rocket, Drax, Groot, Peter, every one of them has made it far more difficult for her to get herself out of trouble. They are the trouble she so often finds herself in.

She wouldn't trade it for anything.

Walk in the rays of a beautiful sun.

"Aww, now you're making it even more like home, how thoughtful!" he says with a grin. It's not normal unless he's in trouble, being 'not' in trouble actually is more weird than not. And he needs this, needs this normalcy. Not snow and pain and ice and endless cold.

He misses the sun. And the stars.

Peter continues the beat for a little while, before speaking up again.

"I vote we never set foot on a planet with snow ever again."

She chuckles, thumps her head back against the wall. "I don't think you're going to have any problem getting the others to agree with that. Especially with the stories we're going to come home with." She nods her head, and breathes out a deep sigh. "Fuck snow."

"Then it's settled. Vote's been counted, results are in, and we are never setting foot on a planet with snow ever again."

He raps his knuckles against the wall and smirks fondly.

"I'm going to take you to the best, most luxurious tropical planet when we get out of here."

"How about... remember that one where that guy with the weird hair was smuggling those flowers? That place was nice. Friendly. I liked that, um... you know, the drink. With the thing." God help her - not that there is any god she's ever heard of who'd still listen to her - she's starting to sound like Peter. She needs sleep. Good food. Her enhancements. She needs to not be cold. She needs to be warm.

Event: Consolidation Theory, Part One and Two

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