[ He brings up both hands this time, covering his face to block out the light – it makes it easier to concentrate, at least a little, without the light lancing through to his brain. He thinks back on why the hell they’re here, what led up to it all, but a lot of it is— blurred. Indistinct. He remembers panic and fear and helplessness and brief, brilliant bursts of want and desperation and anger—
And fever. Gamora, burning up beneath his touch—
He drops his hands, frowning over at her again. He doesn’t quite sit up, but he lifts his head to better examine her. ]
no subject
[ He brings up both hands this time, covering his face to block out the light – it makes it easier to concentrate, at least a little, without the light lancing through to his brain. He thinks back on why the hell they’re here, what led up to it all, but a lot of it is— blurred. Indistinct. He remembers panic and fear and helplessness and brief, brilliant bursts of want and desperation and anger—
And fever. Gamora, burning up beneath his touch—
He drops his hands, frowning over at her again. He doesn’t quite sit up, but he lifts his head to better examine her. ]
You were sick. Like, really sick.