[ He struggles for the words, then gives a vague wave of his hand. ]
—kinda freaking me out.
[ Because he spends a whole lot of his time seeing Gamora as indestructible, as the cool, calm, and collected one. And even if recent events have definitely conspired to wreck the "indestructible" label he had slapped on her – because shit has been scary lately – he still can't help but be shaken whenever he's reminded that she's just as mortal as anyone.
He rubs at the bridge of his nose again, eyes screwing shut against the headache blooming, before he turns to the intercom again. He sends out a ship-wide message – "Hey, uh. If anyone's not feeling well – like, if you're feeling feverish, I guess? – head to the medbay. Please." – and after a few moments, he receives a chorus of responses.
It seems everyone else is fine, which is something of a relief. They also all seem to assume it's Peter that's under the weather, which is probably fine, but it makes annoyance curl and snap in his gut.
He sighs when he gets off the line with Kraglin, who assures them they're on course to the medical facility, and that if he's not feeling so hot, he should take one of those awful-tasting pills and head to bed. Peter only grumbles a response as the line cuts, and he leans forward to press his forehead against the cool metal of the bulkhead.
At length, he turns back around, looking to Gamora. ]
Kraglin says we're nearly there. [ As if she couldn't hear everything already. ]
no subject
[ He struggles for the words, then gives a vague wave of his hand. ]
—kinda freaking me out.
[ Because he spends a whole lot of his time seeing Gamora as indestructible, as the cool, calm, and collected one. And even if recent events have definitely conspired to wreck the "indestructible" label he had slapped on her – because shit has been scary lately – he still can't help but be shaken whenever he's reminded that she's just as mortal as anyone.
He rubs at the bridge of his nose again, eyes screwing shut against the headache blooming, before he turns to the intercom again. He sends out a ship-wide message – "Hey, uh. If anyone's not feeling well – like, if you're feeling feverish, I guess? – head to the medbay. Please." – and after a few moments, he receives a chorus of responses.
It seems everyone else is fine, which is something of a relief. They also all seem to assume it's Peter that's under the weather, which is probably fine, but it makes annoyance curl and snap in his gut.
He sighs when he gets off the line with Kraglin, who assures them they're on course to the medical facility, and that if he's not feeling so hot, he should take one of those awful-tasting pills and head to bed. Peter only grumbles a response as the line cuts, and he leans forward to press his forehead against the cool metal of the bulkhead.
At length, he turns back around, looking to Gamora. ]
Kraglin says we're nearly there. [ As if she couldn't hear everything already. ]