[ Gamora absorbs his reaction as much as she can, trying to pick out details or small tells. But this Peter has learned a... painful kind of unreadable that Gamora knows too intimately (because she knows what it takes to school a face as expressive as Peter's).
It makes her ache.
She doesn't track Peter as closely now, doesn't watch him like she's waiting for him to pull a small knife; instead, she focuses on the projection of Earth as Peter indicates—
— oh.
His home.
Her eyes flick over the continent, memorizing the shape, the location...
She's quickly distracted from her own curiosity by the bitter taste of familiar memory as Peter speaks (no longer the swell of choking grief that used to accompany remembering the day Thanos came to her planet, but something that still sits like ash on her tongue). The information, however... Gamora has largely avoided dealing with her father up until now – she's been more preoccupied with staying as far away as possible – but she knows that Peter is making an excellent point. ]
[ He lowers his head a little – resignation, mostly. A touch of disappointment. Evidently it's too much to ask that Thanos might want to take a break from tearing apart the galaxy. He did always preach diligence, and how one must be willing to sacrifice all else in the efforts to achieve one's goals.
He lets out a quiet breath, reaching out to turnthe globe back to North America. His fingertips press lightly against the projection to keep it from gently spinning. His gaze immediately finds Missouri again – or, at least, the area that he vaguely remembers it resides. Images of Earth from his universe look far less... verdant. It still bears the scars from the day Thanos landed.
This, though, more closely resembles his memories from childhood. It's a relief to see it so alive.
Reluctantly, he pulls back, lets the projection resume its lazy spin. He lets himself watch as the continent slips away, and once it reaches the edge, he returns his attention to Gamora.
His jaw clenches briefly – hesitation and uncertainty, more than anything – before he offers a slightly stilted, ]
[ Gamora doesn't break the silence stretching between them. She lets Peter have this moment – brief though it may be – to admire a home long since lost to him.
The gratitude still catches her off-guard, but she offers a small nod of acknowledgement. "You're welcome," without putting emphasis on the favor itself. ]
We might find reason to return to the Sol system while we try to get you home.
[ Some half-remembered quote comes to mind: I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse.
He can't help but breathe out a quiet, rueful laugh. ]
Only if there's a legitimate reason.
I'm sure your Peter Quill wouldn't appreciate your taking me sight-seeing, especially not if he's as anxious to return as you all are to have him back.
[ The answer is easily given; he doesn't have any doubts, honestly. His team isn't too dissimilar from this universe's Guardians – save for the woman across from him, obviously. But the Gamora he knows has always had an altruistic streak, for as much as he accuses her of pride and selfishness. ]
They may be wary of him, but I don't doubt he'll be treated— [ Ah, and here he hesitates. He was going to say, "treated well," but considering his team, considering the abrasive personalities contained therein, that's a topic worthy of debate.
He corrects, ] He'll be treated as well as you expect.
[ That's the answer Gamora was ultimately hoping for. She would never expect full and thoughtless hospitality to be offered to Peter in that other universe, but she does expect him to return whole and hale. ]
Good enough.
[ If Peter causes trouble? Sure, he's got it coming. But if he can play nice with the other children long enough to get back to Gamora, she'll consider that a win. ]
[ His tone is certain, unequivocal, where the other Peter might try for gentle, for sympathetic. ]
Gamora— the Gamora I know, I mean, is well-connected. She and Rocket will think of something.
[ The Ravager network is vast and far-reaching, after all. He can think of at least one of its members who's capable of wielding magic, even if he can't recall his name. ]
[ While there's none of the familiar comfort Gamora might usually find in her Peter, something about this Quill's certainty is equally a balm on her nerves. ]
You have a lot of faith in her.
[ It's not exactly an exposing observation, considering how much she's accidentally tipped her own hand thus far. She's not so wrapped in her own pride that she believes she's maintained an air of aloofness with this man; she's too off-kilter for a million different reasons to convincingly act like she's above the emotional ramifications of this hiccup.]
[ Simple as that, and as succinct as the response is, there's resolve in it, too, and just the barest edge of fondness.
Even if he can think of about a dozen complaints regarding her character, her work ethic, her ability to focus, he knows that when something is important enough, she'll pull it together. She's led the Guardians through enough scraps to earn his loyalty – although, maybe not his unquestioning loyalty, because each Guardian is nothing but a contrarian.
A muscle in jaw tics, then, and when he speaks, there's a thread of humor in his voice. ]
I can't promise he'll return entirely sober.
[ The Guardians were so fond of drinking as a team-bonding activity, after all. ]
[ The light flicker of humor surprises Gamora enough to get a more genuine smile from her, but she ducks her gaze towards the wall to conceal it. Her own tone is, however, similarly hinting at a joke. ]
And he'll probably be better for it.
[ Maybe if he's drunk, he'll be a little less stressed while he's trapped in another dimension. ]
It sounds like they'll get along well.
[ They probably won't spend the first part of their acquaintance circling each other like dogs in a fighting pit, so that's bound to be a smoother transition. ]
[ The observation draws a reluctant huff from him, something that's amused at its edge. ]
All the more reason for me to get back. I fear for the integrity of the ship.
[ Peter has the unenviable task of tempering some of the other Guardians' more explosive instincts, after all. And with Rocket and Gamora left to their own devices—
Well. He'll be lucky if there's even a ship to return to.
He shakes his head, dismissing the thought, before glancing up at her again. ]
How did he— [ This, with a small gesture. No need to specify whom. ] —come to leave Earth?
[ Ah, how much to disclose here? Maybe just broad strokes. ]
He was abducted rather than rescued by Ravagers – a captain who was paid to retrieve him.
[ "By whom" might be a bit much for this Peter (even if Gamora realizes there's no guarantee this Quill also had Ego for a father). ]
Did—
[ Gamora starts asking her next question, but as she opens her mouth, the very distinct intro for "Come and Get Your Love" blasts over the ship speakers, and Gamora shoots right out of her seat. As the first lyrics kick in, Gamora recovers enough to snarl over the noise, ]
[ His eyes narrow slightly as she offers that bit of information; he vaguely remembers Ego telling him about hiring the Ravagers to transport Peter from Missouri to Ego's planet, only they had arrived too late.
The sudden noise has him similarly springing to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his sword.
It takes him a blink to register it as music.
It takes the same amount of time to register it as achingly familiar.
He falters briefly, expression going slack. His voice is little more than a croak when he finally speaks. ]
[ Gamora exhales a frustrated breath through her nose, her hackles finally settling as Rocket turns down the music (with some token muttering and griping she can hear a whole deck below). She looks back over at Peter, and it's only then that the reality – the true weight of another stark loss – becomes clearer for Gamora. The sheer volume of memories and keepsakes that her Peter has kept all these years feels as precious as gold when she realizes how much has been stolen from this man.
She rests her fingertips on the table (away from her sword), nodding once. ]
Clones of Meredith's music. [ And a rigged up Zune, but she imagines Peter would care a lot more about his mother's own favorites. ]
[ For a split second, he feels a strange twist behind his sternum. It's childish, he knows, but he immediately recognizes the bitter sensation as envy.
The universe was much kinder to this Peter Quill, it seems. He forces himself to quash the incipient resentment before it can fully take root.
He swallows around the dryness of his throat, and his gaze darts to the overhead, in the general direction of the flight deck, but he's focusing on something far, far away. ]
My mother made me tapes of the songs she loved growing up. I had the tape player on me the day Thanos' forces arrived.
[ Unconsciously, his hand tightens around the hilt of his sword – old anger, old fear. Once he notices what he's doing, he shakes himself and immediately makes an effort to loosen his grip, to let his hand drop to his side. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It makes her ache.
She doesn't track Peter as closely now, doesn't watch him like she's waiting for him to pull a small knife; instead, she focuses on the projection of Earth as Peter indicates—
— oh.
His home.
Her eyes flick over the continent, memorizing the shape, the location...
She's quickly distracted from her own curiosity by the bitter taste of familiar memory as Peter speaks (no longer the swell of choking grief that used to accompany remembering the day Thanos came to her planet, but something that still sits like ash on her tongue). The information, however... Gamora has largely avoided dealing with her father up until now – she's been more preoccupied with staying as far away as possible – but she knows that Peter is making an excellent point. ]
He's alive.
And I'm sure searching for the Stones.
no subject
He lets out a quiet breath, reaching out to turnthe globe back to North America. His fingertips press lightly against the projection to keep it from gently spinning. His gaze immediately finds Missouri again – or, at least, the area that he vaguely remembers it resides. Images of Earth from his universe look far less... verdant. It still bears the scars from the day Thanos landed.
This, though, more closely resembles his memories from childhood. It's a relief to see it so alive.
Reluctantly, he pulls back, lets the projection resume its lazy spin. He lets himself watch as the continent slips away, and once it reaches the edge, he returns his attention to Gamora.
His jaw clenches briefly – hesitation and uncertainty, more than anything – before he offers a slightly stilted, ]
Thank you.
no subject
The gratitude still catches her off-guard, but she offers a small nod of acknowledgement. "You're welcome," without putting emphasis on the favor itself. ]
We might find reason to return to the Sol system while we try to get you home.
[ If Peter... wants to see it in person. ]
no subject
He can't help but breathe out a quiet, rueful laugh. ]
Only if there's a legitimate reason.
I'm sure your Peter Quill wouldn't appreciate your taking me sight-seeing, especially not if he's as anxious to return as you all are to have him back.
no subject
If there's a reason.
[ An easy agreement to make, though she wouldn't be surprised if their search takes them through the Milky Way.
She hesitates before asking, ]
Your team. Do you think they'll help him?
[ She'd be surprised if these other Guardians ditched Quill fully, but she's learned not to expect kindness as a default. ]
no subject
[ The answer is easily given; he doesn't have any doubts, honestly. His team isn't too dissimilar from this universe's Guardians – save for the woman across from him, obviously. But the Gamora he knows has always had an altruistic streak, for as much as he accuses her of pride and selfishness. ]
They may be wary of him, but I don't doubt he'll be treated— [ Ah, and here he hesitates. He was going to say, "treated well," but considering his team, considering the abrasive personalities contained therein, that's a topic worthy of debate.
He corrects, ] He'll be treated as well as you expect.
They won't hurt him if he doesn't deserve it.
no subject
Good enough.
[ If Peter causes trouble? Sure, he's got it coming. But if he can play nice with the other children long enough to get back to Gamora, she'll consider that a win. ]
no subject
They'll look after him.
[ His tone is certain, unequivocal, where the other Peter might try for gentle, for sympathetic. ]
Gamora— the Gamora I know, I mean, is well-connected. She and Rocket will think of something.
[ The Ravager network is vast and far-reaching, after all. He can think of at least one of its members who's capable of wielding magic, even if he can't recall his name. ]
no subject
You have a lot of faith in her.
[ It's not exactly an exposing observation, considering how much she's accidentally tipped her own hand thus far. She's not so wrapped in her own pride that she believes she's maintained an air of aloofness with this man; she's too off-kilter for a million different reasons to convincingly act like she's above the emotional ramifications of this hiccup.]
no subject
I do.
[ Simple as that, and as succinct as the response is, there's resolve in it, too, and just the barest edge of fondness.
Even if he can think of about a dozen complaints regarding her character, her work ethic, her ability to focus, he knows that when something is important enough, she'll pull it together. She's led the Guardians through enough scraps to earn his loyalty – although, maybe not his unquestioning loyalty, because each Guardian is nothing but a contrarian.
A muscle in jaw tics, then, and when he speaks, there's a thread of humor in his voice. ]
I can't promise he'll return entirely sober.
[ The Guardians were so fond of drinking as a team-bonding activity, after all. ]
no subject
And he'll probably be better for it.
[ Maybe if he's drunk, he'll be a little less stressed while he's trapped in another dimension. ]
It sounds like they'll get along well.
[ They probably won't spend the first part of their acquaintance circling each other like dogs in a fighting pit, so that's bound to be a smoother transition. ]
no subject
All the more reason for me to get back. I fear for the integrity of the ship.
[ Peter has the unenviable task of tempering some of the other Guardians' more explosive instincts, after all. And with Rocket and Gamora left to their own devices—
Well. He'll be lucky if there's even a ship to return to.
He shakes his head, dismissing the thought, before glancing up at her again. ]
How did he— [ This, with a small gesture. No need to specify whom. ] —come to leave Earth?
no subject
He was abducted rather than rescued by Ravagers – a captain who was paid to retrieve him.
[ "By whom" might be a bit much for this Peter (even if Gamora realizes there's no guarantee this Quill also had Ego for a father). ]
Did—
[ Gamora starts asking her next question, but as she opens her mouth, the very distinct intro for "Come and Get Your Love" blasts over the ship speakers, and Gamora shoots right out of her seat. As the first lyrics kick in, Gamora recovers enough to snarl over the noise, ]
Rocket! Turn it down!
no subject
The sudden noise has him similarly springing to his feet, his hand instinctively going to his sword.
It takes him a blink to register it as music.
It takes the same amount of time to register it as achingly familiar.
He falters briefly, expression going slack. His voice is little more than a croak when he finally speaks. ]
... You have music from Earth.
no subject
She rests her fingertips on the table (away from her sword), nodding once. ]
Clones of Meredith's music. [ And a rigged up Zune, but she imagines Peter would care a lot more about his mother's own favorites. ]
no subject
The universe was much kinder to this Peter Quill, it seems. He forces himself to quash the incipient resentment before it can fully take root.
He swallows around the dryness of his throat, and his gaze darts to the overhead, in the general direction of the flight deck, but he's focusing on something far, far away. ]
My mother made me tapes of the songs she loved growing up. I had the tape player on me the day Thanos' forces arrived.
[ Unconsciously, his hand tightens around the hilt of his sword – old anger, old fear. Once he notices what he's doing, he shakes himself and immediately makes an effort to loosen his grip, to let his hand drop to his side. ]
A Chitauri foot soldier destroyed it.