gamora (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zenwhoberi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
garbagechute2018-04-04 09:12 pm
zenwhoberi) wrote in garbagechute2018-04-04 09:12 pm
[closed]
[the first few days — after, that is the only word she knows to use — are some of the tensest she has ever known. it's one thing to be familiar with standing among ghosts, with inhabiting the silence that exists between the things she can't forget, but it's another to face them again after having somehow grown accustomed to their absence. the corridors of the quadrant are still and empty, and every step down them invariably reverberates on the walls, a stark contrast to the constant chaos and close quarters of the milano. a cold contrast.
but life, or, rather, life as she's still learning to know it, returns. rocket tinkers, for better or worse, leaving more than the occasional collection of parts strewn out all over the floor, and soon enough, music starts to fill the space in idle moments — unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting all the same. she yells at drax more than five times in a single day, groot finds a new favorite pastime in getting into things he shouldn't, and mantis speaks up more, little by little.
and peter — peter returns to life as usual, too.
for the most part.
she starts to cross paths with him at some point during almost every night cycle, much more often than she used to, in a variety of places — on the flight deck, by the viewport, at a table in the mess. sometimes, she talks, but more often, she listens; sometimes, no one talks at all. no matter what, there's a part of her that likes these little slices of time, an indulgence carved away just for them. she finds, too, that the realization doesn't trouble her, like it once might have.
now, though, as they're both taking a shift on the flight deck (it's been over two months since they've seen any sign of the sovereign, but no one is ready to give up precaution just yet), she wonders how long it has been since he actually slept. if she had to, and she often has, she could go for days without sleeping (her body mods are nothing if not efficient), but his body tends to quickly show signs of obvious wear. the dark circles are more than apparent under his eyes. his skin appears paler.
it's been over two months. this is far from the first time she's wondered.]
I can keep watch, [she tells him as she turns, voice quiet, gentle in a way that feels less foreign with time.] You should get some sleep.
but life, or, rather, life as she's still learning to know it, returns. rocket tinkers, for better or worse, leaving more than the occasional collection of parts strewn out all over the floor, and soon enough, music starts to fill the space in idle moments — unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting all the same. she yells at drax more than five times in a single day, groot finds a new favorite pastime in getting into things he shouldn't, and mantis speaks up more, little by little.
and peter — peter returns to life as usual, too.
for the most part.
she starts to cross paths with him at some point during almost every night cycle, much more often than she used to, in a variety of places — on the flight deck, by the viewport, at a table in the mess. sometimes, she talks, but more often, she listens; sometimes, no one talks at all. no matter what, there's a part of her that likes these little slices of time, an indulgence carved away just for them. she finds, too, that the realization doesn't trouble her, like it once might have.
now, though, as they're both taking a shift on the flight deck (it's been over two months since they've seen any sign of the sovereign, but no one is ready to give up precaution just yet), she wonders how long it has been since he actually slept. if she had to, and she often has, she could go for days without sleeping (her body mods are nothing if not efficient), but his body tends to quickly show signs of obvious wear. the dark circles are more than apparent under his eyes. his skin appears paler.
it's been over two months. this is far from the first time she's wondered.]
I can keep watch, [she tells him as she turns, voice quiet, gentle in a way that feels less foreign with time.] You should get some sleep.
no subject
her sigh, short and clipped, is released in the end.
he will talk in circles all night, will continue to grasp onto anything he can to avoid whatever the real issue is, she knows, even to his own obvious detriment; that, more than anything, is what has made something halfway to irritation start to settle in the outline of her jaw. she turns her attention to the screen in front of her for a moment, mashing a few buttons possibly just a little harder than she needs to, before pushing it off to the side.
(not for the first time, she thinks: she's not good at this.)]
Peter. [it's not harsh, exactly, but there's a definite firmness to it.] You can't keep going like this. It's not — [a beat as she looks for a word —] sustainable.
no subject
The quick, sharp sigh, the tight set of her jaw, the way she keeps herself from putting her fist through the console’s screen. Maybe a wiser man would recognize that he should listen to sense, but that’s one of Peter’s many problems – he is not a wise man, and he most certainly ignores good sense for the sake of convenience. Like when good sense might prove him wrong, or when it makes him do crap he doesn’t want to do.
But in this case, he doesn’t exactly see what the big deal is. The late nights and the lack of sleep aren’t ideal, admittedly, but, hey, it’s giving the two of them some much needed one-on-one time. It would take a bigger fool than Peter to pass up an opportunity like that. ]
Listen— [ He’s trying to keep from sounding too dismissive, because that would surely start a fight. And he’s trying to keep from sounding too defensive, because that’ll put Gamora on the attack. ]
Listen, I appreciate the concern, but I’m good. Seriously. I mean, you make it sound like I haven’t been sleeping at all.
[ And he has been, kind of. Sort of.
Power naps totally count, right? ]
I’m fine. Scout’s honor.