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legendary_outlaw

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From:

legendary_outlaw

[The oddest thing about being back on the Quadrant is how confining it feels. Peter's been sharing the Milano's overly cramped quarters for the past two months just fine, and yet now here he is, feeling practically smothered by memories.

He's not exactly about to admit that, though, so he's spent the evening wandering the ship under the guise of taking stock, seeing what kinds of supplies the Ravagers have left them with. He's pretty sure Gamora doesn't buy it, because she's spent the whole time basically at his shoulder, not that he's complaining about that part.

Now, though, he's feeling the last of the adrenaline he's been running on fading, the day's immense exhaustion catching up to him. It's probably more than a little bit obvious, given that he's started yawning practically every thirty seconds. Dumb body, betraying his cool that way.]

So, uh. We should probably think about someplace to sleep.

[He doesn't exactly want to, doesn't want to find out what totally awesome dreams his brain is gonna gift him with after this absolute peach of a day, but he also doesn't think his body's about to give him much of a choice. Collapsing in front of Gamora would not be his idea of a good time.]

From:

godslay

[ In the wake of everything that's happened, Gamora is trying to do as much as she can to simply ride the tide with Peter. There's been so much that even trying to address it in the hours that follow seems like a nearly impossible feat.

(And, maybe, it simply isn't the time for it.)

If nothing else, she can meander beside him. It seems like an effort on his part to be responsible, to ensure he's following through like a leader should, but she also wouldn't be surprised if it's a way to keep himself busy – to not dwell on the horrors that had followed after leaving Berhert behind. It's too much, too fresh, with all of these reminders of Yondu around every corner.

If Peter was somehow trying to distance himself, the Quadrant is not the place to do it.

However, she takes careful stock of every yawn as the night progresses. She hardly blames him for being exhausted (and, if she's honest, even she is feeling the wear from everything that's happened), but the closer together the yawns become, the more inclined she is to try encouraging him towards his own bed.

Fortunately for her (and probably him), he makes the much more logical choice for them. ]

That wouldn't be the worst plan.

[ She glances towards one of the decks they'd wandered through before. ]

I assume your quarters will be up there?

From:

legendary_outlaw

[Peter glances up in the direction she's indicated and sees that she's probably talking about the captain's quarters. He's been thinking of the possibility all evening, trying to decide what the most appropriate location is to make his bunk, when really all he wants is to be back on the Milano, with his headphones on. His old headphones, that cover his ears. Not these new weird things that leave him feeling oddly exposed.]

I guess? Those were the captain's quarters. Yondu's room.

[He tries to say it casually, but he can't quite hide the way the words stick in his throat.]

Probably full of dirty socks and sexbot mags.

[He shrugs for good measure.]

From:

godslay

[ Gamora studies Peter intently, watching him to take careful note of his quiet shifts of expression, the too-insistent grab for nonchalance.

It may be covered in dirty laundry and pornographic magazines, but that's only reinforcement of exactly who those quarters used to belong to. Considering they'd seen his body committed to the stars mere hours before, she can understand why Peter would be reluctant to so much as go near the room. ]

Then should they not be yours now?

[ He is the captain, after all. ]

From:

legendary_outlaw

Right. I have always dreamed about inheriting stinky socks and porn mags!

[He does his best to flash her a wry smile, but it's interrupted by another yawn so intense that his jaw pops. Totally suave.]

From:

godslay

Every Terran boy's dream, I'm sure.

[ The dry sarcasm meets his yawn, but the mild exasperation accompanying his joke is wiped away in favor or something more serious by how tired he looks. ]

Either way, you will have to sleep somewhere tonight. You can't keep pushing yourself to stay awake.

[ Because she's more than certain his body will give out and demand rest, possibly sooner rather than later, if he isn't lucky. ]

From:

legendary_outlaw

What about the floor, though?

[He shrugs, gesturing to a spot roughly in the middle of the hallway that actually looks pretty appealing right now. Certainly more appealing than the idea of going to Yondu's room, alone, and sleeping among Yondu's things. That's, like, practically asking to be haunted, isn't it?]

Like right there, maybe. Looks pretty comfy to me.

From:

godslay

[ The corner of Gamora's lips twist in clear disapproval. ]

Peter.

[ Quiet. Firm. Her tone is intended to be quelling as she stops short in the hall, reaching out to lightly set her hand on his upper arm. ]

You need to sleep in a real bed.

From:

legendary_outlaw

Okay.

[His humor dries up immediately, all of his attention suddenly drawn to her hand on his arm, as if that somehow holds all of the answers in this situation.]

Okay, a bed.

[He doesn't move, though.]

From:

godslay

[ The way Peter sobers isn't necessarily jarring, but she's relieved he isn't continuing to brush her aside with humor. It's dismissive, a defense mechanism as much as anything else, and she understands it, but... there's a time and a place.

She runs her hand gently over his arm, then lower to tentatively tangle their fingers together – loose enough that, if he wanted to, he could easily break away. ]

I'll walk with you.

From:

legendary_outlaw

[He sucks in a breath as she runs her fingers down his arm, though it catches in his throat when she actually laces their fingers. For a moment he stays almost perfectly still, his eyes traveling back and forth between their hands and her face, waiting for her to realize that she's touching him and pull away. When she doesn't, he exhales and pulls her hand a little closer.]

Okay. Yeah, I wouldn't hate it if you did.

From:

godslay

[ Gamora didn't expect Peter to pull away, but she also hadn't wanted to assume. But now, something sweet and warm twists in her chest when he properly takes her hand. ]

Then let's go.

[ She steps back towards the other deck, tugging gently at Peter to encourage him along. ]

From:

legendary_outlaw

[He resists the urge to babble as they make their way up to the captain's quarters, much as he's craving distractions from this situation. Fortunately the solid warmth of Gamora's hand does the trick pretty well, and he manages a pretty good poker face right up until they reach the doors. Then he stops short, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest at the prospect of seeing what's inside, seeing so very many reminders of Yondu after everything that's happened today. He's torn, half of him afraid of having Gamora observe his inevitable reaction, the other half desperate to have her support.]

Right. Guess this is my stop.

[He makes no move to enter.]

From:

godslay

[ The quiet hardly bothers Gamora, and she's content to let it lie between them on their way to the upper deck. She's never been the type to fill the silence, after all, and if Peter doesn't scramble for idle chatter, she doesn't need to, either.

She stops beside him in front of the doors, her thumb brushing across the back of his hand. ]

It would seem so.

[ But just as much as Peter doesn't try to pull away, Gamora doesn't drop his hand. ]

... I suppose that means we should say goodnight.

[ She should walk away, give him some peace and quiet to collect his thoughts – if that's what he needs. She realizes that she doesn't actually know what he needs, given how little he's offered up, but from Peter, that's as much to be expected as a stupid joke. ]

From:

legendary_outlaw

Right.

[That word again, like a nervous tic. He clears his throat.]

Good night.

[He makes no movement to drop her hand, still can't bring himself to break the contact. ]

From:

godslay

[ He says "goodnight," but given the way he still clings to her hand, Gamora has to assume he's no more eager than she is to break away.

(And it's a funny thing, really, to think that two months ago, she never would have even considered holding someone's hand, let alone taking such comfort in it.) ]

Peter.

[ It's cautious, testing the waters again when she finally says, ]

I can stay, if that's what you want.

From:

legendary_outlaw

[Peter exhales in a rush again, surprised by the immediate relief he feels at the suggestion, though it's underscored by the lingering insecurity at what she might be about to see. ]

Yes. Please.

[He meets her eyes for a brief moment, then looks away, swallowing down the emotions that stir at even that little contact. ]

I mean. If you don't mind the dirty socks.

From:

godslay

I have had two months to adjust to dirty socks, Peter. Yours or someone else's.

[ The words come dryly, but there's a softness that plays around her eyes, balancing out the sarcasm – her way of meeting Peter's attempt at humor with something of her own, to soothe the edges of what she knows waits for him behind that door. ]

I think I can handle it.

[ And not only that, but she's certain Peter can, too.

(Not that it will be easy, by any means.)

She doesn't break contact, but she reaches out to hit the panel next to the door, admitting them to the captain's quarters. She could step inside, but she leaves it an invitation to Peter instead – go at your own pace, it says. ]

From:

legendary_outlaw

[Peter's always been a rip-off-the-band-aid kind of guy. In fact, he's sometimes been a rip-off-the-band-aid-along-with-the-scab guy. Which is probably why he decides it's a great idea to propel himself through the doors of Yondu's quarters as if everything's fine, as if he and Yondu both still live here and are about to get into their latest spat.

It works, for the moment.

The place is about what he expected -- dirty laundry and other detritus strewn all over the floor, blankets tangled, smelling of stale sweat and alcohol. He scoops up the nearest receptacle that could pass for a trash can and begins shoveling things into it, not giving himself time to really see what the items are. ]

We gotta clean this place up before we--I--go to bed. I dunno about you, but I do not wanna know where those sheets have been. Should be some clean ones in the closet, though. Don't think Yondu ever changed the things.

From:

godslay

[ Gamora glances around the quarters, clearly unimpressed. ]

Now I see where you get it from.

[ Because this is about as clean as the Milano, in all reality.

But Gamora doesn't let that stop her from going to strip the bed, only barely wrinkling her nose as she cast aside the furry blanket to yank off the discolored sheets. Stains littered the surface, and she chooses not to think about where they might have come from.

Instead, she leaves the sheets with a somewhat larger pile of laundry, then goes to investigate the closet. As Peter said, there are some haphazardly folded ones ready and waiting, though they look like they've been in the same place for months (or potentially years). ]

Here, help me with this.

From:

legendary_outlaw

We should burn all this.

[He growls the words with more conviction than he feels, then proceeds to trip over a discarded shirt on his way across the room. He narrowly avoids falling flat on his face, kicks the thing in the direction of the other laundry, then covers the whole thing with a fresh dose of righteous anger. ]

See? It's a health hazard.

[He makes it to where Gamora is standing on his second try, fortunately, and reaches out to take an end of the sheet. ]

From:

godslay

We can deal with it later.

[ Now probably isn't the time to be making decisions about what will be destroyed when (but she's also willing to admit she isn't certain what good it would do to keep this clutter; it should likely go anyway, unless Kraglin wants it).

She offers Peter the end of the sheet, then proceeds to stretch it across the sizable bed. She's sure the bed itself was large to accommodate more than just Yondu himself, but she chooses not to consider that – and whatever else may have transpired on it – in favor of dealing with the second sheet. ]

Do you want... that on here too?

[ She gestures down to the mountain of fur that was the comforter. ]

From:

legendary_outlaw

[He considers for a moment, because he's perpetually cold in space, actually still feels chilled after being--out--in the suit earlier. Then again, he doesn't think he can stomach the smell, or the way it reminds him of Yondu. ]

No. Better not.

From:

godslay

[ Gamora nods, and she goes to lift the heavy coat of fur one-handed. She holds it away from herself, because it does smell quite a bit like sweat (and she's certain a great deal of other things), but she carries it to the pile of sheets, depositing it on top of the rest. ]

Is there a replacement?

[ She knows fairly well that Peter doesn't run at the same temperature that she does; she's seen him shiver in what she would consider to be perfectly reasonable conditions, but this room itself is little more than walls upon walls of steel. That doesn't exactly make for something warm and welcoming. ]