[ Okay. Okay, what the fuck, that's distracting, Gamora, and—
That voice from the intercom – Kraglin's voice, Peter thinks, but does it matter? – practically shouting, now, worry and irritation edging into his voice.
"Pete, I swear to god, if you don't answer me right the hell now—"
Peter makes an irritated sound of his own, turning back toward Gamora to pick up where they left off, except— except her hands are slipping away, except she's swaying dangerously, except—
The way she says his name this time cuts straight through the fog, and that worry (that fear) from earlier makes him suck in a sharp breath. ]
Oh, shit—
[ This, croaked out as he catches her as best as he can. It's an effort, but he lifts her up as he had tried to earlier, helps her to sit on top of the counter, putting her at roughly eye level with him. Both of his hands bracket her face. ]
What's wrong? What's happening?
[ (Kraglin's voice behind him, shouting something about a quarantine, something about the Nova Corps, something about shit that doesn't matter, because Gamora's skin is far too hot against his palms, her breathing far too strained.) ]
Gamora, c'mon. Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe.
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That voice from the intercom – Kraglin's voice, Peter thinks, but does it matter? – practically shouting, now, worry and irritation edging into his voice.
"Pete, I swear to god, if you don't answer me right the hell now—"
Peter makes an irritated sound of his own, turning back toward Gamora to pick up where they left off, except— except her hands are slipping away, except she's swaying dangerously, except—
The way she says his name this time cuts straight through the fog, and that worry (that fear) from earlier makes him suck in a sharp breath. ]
Oh, shit—
[ This, croaked out as he catches her as best as he can. It's an effort, but he lifts her up as he had tried to earlier, helps her to sit on top of the counter, putting her at roughly eye level with him. Both of his hands bracket her face. ]
What's wrong? What's happening?
[ (Kraglin's voice behind him, shouting something about a quarantine, something about the Nova Corps, something about shit that doesn't matter, because Gamora's skin is far too hot against his palms, her breathing far too strained.) ]
Gamora, c'mon. Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe.