[ He meets her gaze when she lifts up his head, and the steel in her expression, the certainty in her eyes—
It helps. It helps so fucking much, even while he knows he’s only moments away from getting shoved into a box again and left forgotten on some dusty shelf, like old, nostalgic Christmas decorations. Because at least now he knows that the playing field isn’t so tilted, anymore.
If something happened to her—
If anything happened to the other Guardians—
If all he could do was watch—
Hell, this information he’s passed along might even give Gamora a leg up, now that she knows her suspicions were completely founded. Now that she knows she can deal with the problem in whatever way she sees fit. She hardly needs Peter’s blessing, obviously, and even now, he trusts her instincts, but he hopes that now, if her back is against a wall, if she’s faced with no other choices, she won’t hesitate.
And maybe— god, he doesn’t fucking know how, or if it’s even possible, but maybe, maybe now that Gamora knows what’s going on, they can figure something out. Maybe Gamora will be able to pry him free.
A baseless hope, he knows. Ego has had months to fester in his head, to metastasize throughout his mind. A sickness like that isn’t easily removed.
Gamora pulls him in for a kiss, and he sinks into it. A sound drags itself from deep within his chest – a mix of relief and helplessness – and he clings to her, responds to her, desperate and greedy for comfort in whatever form it takes. Tape on a gaping wound. A flickering candle to push back a dark night. ]
I love you.
[ He whispers it against her lips, throat tightening and eyes stinging. ]
No matter what happens. I need you to know I love you, Gamora.
no subject
It helps. It helps so fucking much, even while he knows he’s only moments away from getting shoved into a box again and left forgotten on some dusty shelf, like old, nostalgic Christmas decorations. Because at least now he knows that the playing field isn’t so tilted, anymore.
If something happened to her—
If anything happened to the other Guardians—
If all he could do was watch—
Hell, this information he’s passed along might even give Gamora a leg up, now that she knows her suspicions were completely founded. Now that she knows she can deal with the problem in whatever way she sees fit. She hardly needs Peter’s blessing, obviously, and even now, he trusts her instincts, but he hopes that now, if her back is against a wall, if she’s faced with no other choices, she won’t hesitate.
And maybe— god, he doesn’t fucking know how, or if it’s even possible, but maybe, maybe now that Gamora knows what’s going on, they can figure something out. Maybe Gamora will be able to pry him free.
A baseless hope, he knows. Ego has had months to fester in his head, to metastasize throughout his mind. A sickness like that isn’t easily removed.
Gamora pulls him in for a kiss, and he sinks into it. A sound drags itself from deep within his chest – a mix of relief and helplessness – and he clings to her, responds to her, desperate and greedy for comfort in whatever form it takes. Tape on a gaping wound. A flickering candle to push back a dark night. ]
I love you.
[ He whispers it against her lips, throat tightening and eyes stinging. ]
No matter what happens. I need you to know I love you, Gamora.