open post, vol. 2

[nostalgiabomb]

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( VOL. 1 )

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[nostalgiabomb]

[ He blinks at her, confused, before he realizes what she's getting at.

He's getting himself involved, and in all likelihood, she probably didn't want him around beyond his role as eye candy while she was on the job—

(I don't want you to go, she had said last night, but— that was blood loss and pain talking. Who the hell wants to be alone when they're feeling that fucked up?)

His gaze darts away, and he clears his throat. ]

Slip of the tongue. I, uh, you know. I meant "you."

[godslay]

Did you?

[ Because he said "our," he had this plan for more than just her.

Why? ]

[nostalgiabomb]

I— yeah. Of course.

[ He stuff his mouth with more food to buy himself more time to figure out how to get out of this hole he's dug for himself.

Once he's swallowed everything, he decides the best course of action is to just pretend it didn't happen. ]

I'm just saying— if you go now, you know, when he thinks you're still working? It'll buy you some time to get some distance.

[ But he falters a little, gaze dropping to the bandage on her side. ]

I mean, maybe not now-now, but— you get what I mean.

[godslay]

[ Gamora's lips press in a thin line, and she considers her response carefully for a moment, before she sets her plate on the little cart.

(Leaning forward makes her wince.) ]

I have to go much farther than Phoenix, Peter. That's why this has taken me so long.

Finding channels that aren't tied to my father makes everything more complicated. I don't think you understand the kind of reach he has.

wtf i didn't get a notif for this

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He sees the way she winces, frowning a little with concern. She settles again before he can offer a hand, though. ]

What channels are you expecting to take, exactly? Take a Greyhound and go across the country, or hotwire a car. You don't have to talk to anyone except to buy a ticket.

I mean, your father's reach can't be so narrow that he's got every gas station clerk or bus driver in his pocket.

[godslay]

I planned to get out of the country, not disappear on a bus.

[ Staying anywhere in the United States feels too close for comfort. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Then— can't you find someone who can forge paperwork?

[ ... actually, even as he's asking it, he realizes she probably knows a guy, but he quickly shakes his head to cut her off. ]

I mean, not the top-notch guys, but your run-of-the-mill kind of shady.

[godslay]

[ She frowns again, looking unconvinced. ]

The problem is that people know who I am. [ A Daughter of Thanos and an assassin of her caliber holds a terrible level of infamy. ]

They know who my father is. It has to be worthwhile for them to help me – not just because they could sell me out, but because they're putting themselves at risk. That's not a cheap compromise.

These aren't the people who would do this out of the goodness of their hearts.

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He hesitates for a second before finishing off one last bite from his plate. He stands, setting his plate on the cart. ]

I might know a guy.

[ He says it slowly, reluctantly.

(He hasn't talked to Yondu in months, edging close to a year. He'd rather keep it that way, but—) ]

He kind of— works outside of all that political shit. He has decent connections. Does things for himself, and doesn't care who he pisses off, even if they're rich and powerful.

Hell, especially if they're rich and powerful.

[godslay]

[ That catches Gamora off guard. She didn't expect Peter to have— an option? The problem with working for her father is that her connections and her ties to the seedy underbelly of society are through him. Nobody that she knows is unassociated with Thanos, and that leaves her with very few possibilities.

But Peter has... something. ]

How do you know him?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ Her question makes him falter, makes him wince, and he busies himself with pouring a mug of coffee from the heated carafe. ]

I used to... I mean, before I do what I do now. I used to run with this...

[ Group? Team? Hell, just call it what it is, Quill: ]

I ran with this gang.

I left home when I was young and found my way here. I couldn’t make ends meet by flipping burgers, so a couple days before I was due to get kicked out of my apartment, I decided to drown my sorrows. I squirreled my way into a bar with a fake ID and conned someone into buying me a drink. This guy spotted me, said I had potential, and brought me in.

So I learned a lot about picking locks and picking pockets and hotwiring and dismantling cars, and...

[ Peter shrugs, methodically adding sugar and milk into his mug. ]

Spent a while doing that. Decided it wasn’t for me, and now—

[ He waves a free hand. ]

—here I am.

[godslay]

[ Now that—

That is not what Gamora expected him to say. If she's honest, she has no idea what she really thought Peter came from and how it led him to cruising a dingy street in LA at midnight. Maybe because of the Walkman, because of the way he talked about his mother, part of Gamora had only envisioned him growing up with a family. Coming to California when he was an adult, striking out on his own. Winding up working a corner when he found out how expensive the city was.

Somehow, other facets of crime didn't factor into her imagination.

She listens without comment – without judgement – watching Peter pour his coffee, and she lets it all sink in.

Finally, glancing up from Peter's mug, her tone is cautious (but almost hopeful). ]

... And you think he would be willing to work with me.

[ "Help" sounds too magnanimous; she knows she'll be paying outrageously for whatever this man can do. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

I think it’s an option.

[ Which is both the honest answer and the telling one. There are never any guarantees with the Ravagers. ]

Yondu’s a dangerous guy to work with, but... well. Probably not as dangerous as your father. He has this weird, fucked up code of ethics and honor, but he sticks to it, which makes him at least a little predictable.

[ He pours out another mug – after a few days spent together, he knows that Gamora takes her coffee straight up – and holds it out to her. ]

He’ll want a favor.

[godslay]

[ Gamora isn't sure why she keeps being so startled by these small gestures Peter offers her, but once again, she's caught off guard by the coffee before she accepts it. She folds her hands around the warm ceramic, thoughtful as she takes a sip. ]

Not just money.

[nostalgiabomb]

Not just money.

[ And he says it definitively. He spent years working for Yondu, and while Peter can’t claim to know everything going on in that guy’s head, he at least has a decent idea of how he ticks.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed again, still giving Gamora some space. ]

It won’t be... I mean, he’s not gonna ask you to murder anyone or anything like that. That’s not how he operates. But it’ll be something risky. Dangerous. Something he doesn’t want his regular guys doing, or something he doesn’t trust his regular guys to do.

[godslay]

[ Gamora sips at the coffee as Peter speaks, quietly turning over what he's said.

Finally: ]

How do I contact him?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He hesitates for a second before letting out a breath, forcing himself to answer. ]

There's this dive bar he and his guys hang out at. The Arrow. If you wanna try this, I can take you tonight.

[godslay]

[ This feels shockingly abrupt, concrete in a way that Gamora has been grasping for. She's wanted to escape for years, but the way out has always felt so unachievable, so fraught with her father's spies and paid goons waiting for any and all betrayals that might slip through the cracks.

She'd been waiting for the right moment, for a way to leave with her life, and maybe this is it. ]

What time tonight?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. ]

Guess it depends mostly on whenever you're done with— whoever it was you said you'd see tonight.

[ And he nods demonstratively toward the phone on the nightstand. ]

[godslay]

[ The reminder makes Gamora grimace. ]

Monica.

[ She takes a longer sip from her mug, hesitating, and then, ]

... Do you still want to come with me tonight?

[nostalgiabomb]

[ He lets out a quiet, "Ah," in response, though he doesn't offer much of a response beyond that.

It's... complicated. He knows that. ]

Are you sure you're even well enough to go out? You should seriously just get some rest.

[godslay]

It would look suspicious if I called it off.

[ And it would draw more attention from her father. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

Yeah, but it'd look even worse if you bled all over the place.

I mean, are you even gonna be able to walk or move around without hurting yourself?

[godslay]

I have done more with worse.

[ All things considered, this is... bad, but not awful. ]

[nostalgiabomb]

And I'm sure getting blood on the dance floor of whatever soiree you were attending was super impressive to everyone attending.

[ He says it with a heavy helping of sarcasm, though he drops it quickly enough. He curls his hands around the mug of his coffee. ]

You got your in with Monica already, right? You don't need me there.