[ He looks a little disappointed when she pulls away, but considering she seems to be much further along on the recovery thing than Peter is, he lets her go.
He lies back in his bed, rubbing circles at his temples, but when he hears Gamora's exasperation, he looks up. ]
[ She tries the door twice more in demonstration, and it clearly refuses to open. ]
They've locked us in.
[ She glares at the door, and though she's inclined to break it down, she decides to refrain. She knocks on it instead, peering out of the small window into the dimly-lit hallway. She can't see much, and she doesn't earn a response from the knocking, so she reluctantly steps away with a disgruntled huff. ]
[ A cursory look around the room, before Gamora spots the panel near Peter's bed. A button is lit and ready to be pressed, with a little "help" symbol on it.
Well, that should be useful.
She goes over to hit the button, and it sinks into the panel in response with a soft "bing!"
... No one immediately appears at the door, which is already unacceptable, but Gamora settles herself back onto the edge of Peter's bed to wait. ]
There had better be an explanation for all of this.
[ Gamora purses her lips, agitated by the fact they have to wait. Despite that, she still reaches out to set her hand on Peter's knee, continuing to glance towards the door as they wait.
Fortunately, it doesn't take too long before the door is unlocking, and in steps a Krylorian in a uniform. She smiles brightly at them, and Gamora takes note of the fact that she isn't wearing a hazmat suit or otherwise.
Does that mean the room itself isn't contaminated? ]
How nice to see you both awake finally.
[ Gamora's eyes narrow slightly. ]
How long were we asleep?
Nearly five days. Ah, I see you've removed your IV. [ The nurse tuts quietly. ] We should replace that.
I don't need it.
Your body could still do with some additional hydrati—
I am fine. [ Gamora is exceedingly adamant about that part. ]
[ It's a relief, at least, when someone steps in not covered head to toe, like something out of the Andromeda Strain. It bodes well for the state of their illness, whatever the hell that was, and he feels a part of him relax a little.
(The rest of him is still buzzing, though, with familiar agitation over being in a hospital.
The sooner they leave, the better.)
He watches the exchange between Gamora and what he assumes to be a nurse – five days? What the fuck? – and when the woman tuts over the IV, Peter frowns. ]
Gamora.
[ Softly, not disapproving, but something that quietly says, "Mind the tone."
To the nurse, ]
It'll be a much easier time for all of us if you just let her chug some water instead.
[ Gamora doesn't sigh at him, rolling her eyes instead – though she also doesn't comment, because she's not exactly in a position to criticize his openness with the people responsible for their treatment. ]
Well, considering the toxin should be fully removed from your system now, it should be much easier for you to nap.
[ The nurse offers him a light smile, gently dismissing Peter's vitals before she moves to the other panel to check Gamora's – or at least whatever they last displayed before she got up to migrate to Peter's bed. ]
What was it?
[ Gamora feels most disgruntled by the lack of information, by not knowing what had hit them. The nurse glances over at her, and shakes her head apologetically. ]
I'm afraid I'm not in a position to answer that question. A representative from the Nova Corps is supposed to give you a proper briefing when you're released.
[ Peter lets out a breath, letting his arm fall across his middle. It did seem late, even if Peter has no idea what time it actually is. And it'd make sense, the team getting kicked out once guest hours were finished; they were a scary bunch, and he doubts any of the staff felt particularly comforted if any of them stalked around Peter and Gamora's room, waiting for news. ]
So— [ and he raises his head a little to peer at the nurse. ] —when can we go?
[ Because he's pretty sure that's the question they both want an answer to. ]
As long as you're cleared by our attending toxicologist and pathologist, it could be as early as tomorrow.
[ Gamora wants to hope that the lightness in the nurse's tone is because they're looking at a release of "sooner" rather than "later." ]
And if we aren't cleared?
I don't think that's something you need to be too concerned with. You would still be quarantined otherwise. They'll just need to run some final tests before you're fully able to be released.
[ Peter still would've preferred the woman's answer to be, "Oh, you know, within the next couple of hours," if it couldn't be, "Literally right now," but he supposes tomorrow is acceptable, too.
He lets his head fall back against his pillow, huffing out a sigh. ]
Okay. Cool. One more day can't hurt. No big deal.
[ —Peter may or may not be trying to reassure himself, here. ]
[ Gamora glances over towards Peter, reaching out to set a hand on his knee. She remembers the shared memories, thanks to N'Calo's influence; she doesn't need to guess why Peter might not want to stay here. ]
Is there anything I can get for you?
Water.
[ Gamora nods shortly in thanks as the nurse looks to Peter. ]
[ Peter is busy studying the ceiling that he doesn’t notice the nurse looking to him. Instead, he senses the expectant pause, and he assumes the nurse must be waiting on a response. He offers a vague wave of his hand, though he doesn’t look up. ]
[ he lets out a long breath, trying to force out some of the tension settling into his neck and back. ]
Yeah. Same here.
[ On all of those counts, really, and the fact that Gamora could get laid out just as easily as Peter had been by this weird disease or infection or whatever it was – that's worrying as hell. ]
It hit you pretty hard, though. [ A touch of concern in his voice. ] Whatever that was.
[ She can hear the concern edging into his voice, and though she isn't offended by it, it prickles against something of her own (maybe it just reminds her of how unsettling it is to find herself so... weak). ]
I want to know why Cryon had that in his warehouse.
[ She frowns at the wall instead of looking over at Peter, rather than truly acknowledge that worry. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I could see if I can find someone who works here. They may have answers for us.
[ Reluctantly, Gamora draws away from Peter, going to check the door.
... It, of course, is locked. ]
... Really?
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He lies back in his bed, rubbing circles at his temples, but when he hears Gamora's exasperation, he looks up. ]
What? What's wrong?
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They've locked us in.
[ She glares at the door, and though she's inclined to break it down, she decides to refrain. She knocks on it instead, peering out of the small window into the dimly-lit hallway. She can't see much, and she doesn't earn a response from the knocking, so she reluctantly steps away with a disgruntled huff. ]
Is it possible we're contagious?
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That's worrying.
And by worrying, it's actually kind of... uh.
Well. It's not good, Peter thinks, and he's back to sitting up in bed. ]
Maybe. [ Uncertainly. ] Or maybe they didn't know what they were dealing with and decided better safe than sorry.
[ He casts around, looking for some kind of call button.
A little tensely, ] Kinda don't like the idea of bein' stuck in here.
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[ A cursory look around the room, before Gamora spots the panel near Peter's bed. A button is lit and ready to be pressed, with a little "help" symbol on it.
Well, that should be useful.
She goes over to hit the button, and it sinks into the panel in response with a soft "bing!"
... No one immediately appears at the door, which is already unacceptable, but Gamora settles herself back onto the edge of Peter's bed to wait. ]
There had better be an explanation for all of this.
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How did he miss that?
He huffs out a breath, flopping back into bed again as he brings up both hands to his face. ]
Other than "hey, we thought it'd be fun to lock you crazy kids into a room and see how long it took for you guys to go stir crazy?"
Yeah. Agreed. 100%. They'd better let us out soon, too.
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Fortunately, it doesn't take too long before the door is unlocking, and in steps a Krylorian in a uniform. She smiles brightly at them, and Gamora takes note of the fact that she isn't wearing a hazmat suit or otherwise.
Does that mean the room itself isn't contaminated? ]
How nice to see you both awake finally.
[ Gamora's eyes narrow slightly. ]
How long were we asleep?
Nearly five days. Ah, I see you've removed your IV. [ The nurse tuts quietly. ] We should replace that.
I don't need it.
Your body could still do with some additional hydrati—
I am fine. [ Gamora is exceedingly adamant about that part. ]
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(The rest of him is still buzzing, though, with familiar agitation over being in a hospital.
The sooner they leave, the better.)
He watches the exchange between Gamora and what he assumes to be a nurse – five days? What the fuck? – and when the woman tuts over the IV, Peter frowns. ]
Gamora.
[ Softly, not disapproving, but something that quietly says, "Mind the tone."
To the nurse, ]
It'll be a much easier time for all of us if you just let her chug some water instead.
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That may be allowable. I'll have some water brought in.
[ But she wanders over to a panel next to Peter's bed, gently expanding the holo screen to take a look at his vitals. ]
Your fever broke about twelve hours ago. How are you feeling now?
[ At this question, however, Gamora also looks pointedly over at Peter again. ]
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Peter grimaces at that bit of news, rubbing at his forehead. ]
Fine.
[ Apparently both of them are just going to be awful patients. ]
Nothing a nap won't fix.
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Well, considering the toxin should be fully removed from your system now, it should be much easier for you to nap.
[ The nurse offers him a light smile, gently dismissing Peter's vitals before she moves to the other panel to check Gamora's – or at least whatever they last displayed before she got up to migrate to Peter's bed. ]
What was it?
[ Gamora feels most disgruntled by the lack of information, by not knowing what had hit them. The nurse glances over at her, and shakes her head apologetically. ]
I'm afraid I'm not in a position to answer that question. A representative from the Nova Corps is supposed to give you a proper briefing when you're released.
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The answer, however, is hardly satisfactory, and Peter grumbles out, ]
Oh, okay. That's not foreboding at all.
[ But it won't help, getting snippy with the nurse, and he huffs out a breath. ]
But we're not, like. Contagious? Neither of us is gonna sneeze and cause some sort of epidemic?
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Not even a little. This toxin was transmitted through contact, and now that you're no longer affected by it, you can't spread it.
[ ... Well, that's a small piece of information, and that explains how she must have given it to Peter. ]
Then can we see our friends?
Of course. They can visit in the morning.
[ Gamora wants to demand "why not now?" but she also realizes that isn't the best approach. ]
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Everyone's fine, though? It was just us that got hit with whatever classified bullshit you're "not at liberty to discuss" or whatever?
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We ran many tests, and none of the others have been affected. They're completely fine.
[ Gamora relaxes with the news, though it's somewhat more incremental. ]
They haven't been kept here?
Not at all. They were allowed in after your fevers had broken, but they left once visiting hours were over.
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So— [ and he raises his head a little to peer at the nurse. ] —when can we go?
[ Because he's pretty sure that's the question they both want an answer to. ]
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[ Gamora wants to hope that the lightness in the nurse's tone is because they're looking at a release of "sooner" rather than "later." ]
And if we aren't cleared?
I don't think that's something you need to be too concerned with. You would still be quarantined otherwise. They'll just need to run some final tests before you're fully able to be released.
[ That's... somewhat better. ]
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He lets his head fall back against his pillow, huffing out a sigh. ]
Okay. Cool. One more day can't hurt. No big deal.
[ —Peter may or may not be trying to reassure himself, here. ]
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Is there anything I can get for you?
Water.
[ Gamora nods shortly in thanks as the nurse looks to Peter. ]
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I’ll have what she’s having.
[ peter jason quill this is not a bar. ]
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I'll bring that right in.
[ And she leaves them both with another brief smile.
Gamora turns properly to look at him this time, drawing her knee up onto the bed. ]
Are you bothered we'll be here for the rest of the night?
[ Leave it to Gamora not to beat around the bush or try to hedge her question with something more tentative. ]
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[ The answer is immediate, expression twisting so he can send her an incredulous look. ]
I'm not bothered. I'm annoyed that we've apparently wasted five days in this stupid place, but I'm not bothered.
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She nods, willing to carefully move beyond the question for the moment. ]
I assumed it had been no more than a day – two, at the most. I would have thought my modifications could have handled it sooner.
[ The fact that it took five days for both of them still bothers her.
Actually, the fact that the toxin was apparently so potent it acted before her mods could intervene is also disconcerting. ]
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Yeah. Same here.
[ On all of those counts, really, and the fact that Gamora could get laid out just as easily as Peter had been by this weird disease or infection or whatever it was – that's worrying as hell. ]
It hit you pretty hard, though. [ A touch of concern in his voice. ] Whatever that was.
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I want to know why Cryon had that in his warehouse.
[ She frowns at the wall instead of looking over at Peter, rather than truly acknowledge that worry. ]
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