Work Text:
Peter can’t recall ever seeing her eyes so wild with such raw animalistic fear, pupils blown and dark.
In hindsight, he knew it probably wasn’t the best idea to get within such close vicinity to Gamora while she was caught in the middle of a nightmare, knowing her reaction was likely to be driven by her ingrained survival instincts. You know, stab first. That’s it. Questions never needed to be asked.
However, the cries that echoed into the quiet hall, which he instantly recognized to be Gamora’s, were direct pierces through his chest. Before his brain could catch up with the rest of his body, Peter had already pushed through the door to her quarters, politeness of knocking first forgone, and rushed to her side.
“Gamora!”
Her skin glistened with sweat and her eyes were tightly clamped shut. The bed sheets were haphazardly strewn about, partially tangled up with her limbs.
Hesitant to touch her, he opted to raise his voice louder desperate to cut through whatever nightmares were torturing her and pull her back to reality. “Gamora!”
Peter’s chest constricted as another anguished cry ripped from her lips. An involuntary whimper fell from his own, feeling utterly helpless in relieving her from her pain. He couldn’t remain at her bedside any longer and continue to watch her thrash about, victim to the darkness that still lingered in her mind. Making the decision, Peter reached out a hand and placed it on her upper arm, softening his voice as he attempted to shake her awake. “Mora—come on, Mora; wake up.”
Her eyes snapped open, dark and wild, and he was a bit taken aback. She didn’t look like his Gamora at all. Wait , his Gamora?
Before he could finish that thought, her grip was tight around his arm and a sharp pain flared up it. “Ahh! Mora, it’s me—Peter!”
Peter gritted his teeth and worked to maintain his calm; adding more panic to the situation would only make things worse. A moment later, the glassiness to Gamora’s eyes began to dissipate and slowly focused on Peter’s face. Her eyes darted from his face down to the splotchy redness of his skin where she still had a vice-like grip on his arm. He watched as confusion and then horror passed across her features in a matter of seconds before she released her grip on him as if his skin had scorched her. She scrambled back across the bed until her back met the wall, putting as much space between the two of them as possible, her chest rising erratically, breaths staccato.
“I’m sorry—god, Peter, I’m so sorry.” She pulled her legs up to her chest and dipped her head into her hands. “I could’ve—I could have seriously injured you!” Her voice was laced with guilt, some still lingering panic, and a smidge of accusatory frustration, which Peter assumed was directed at his poor judgment in approaching her while in her panicked state.
He shrugged it off, unconcerned with the ‘could haves’ and more focused on how he could comfort her now.
“But you didn’t. I’m totally okay—see?” He held up his arm, twisting his wrist around and wiggling his fingers, as to prove everything was functioning properly. Maybe there’d be some minor bruising come morning cycle, but no real damage done. Gamora assessed him warily, back still pressed against the wall.
Peter offered her a reassuring smile as he dropped his arms back to his side. He slowly eased his weight onto the mattress, slow enough for her to protest or move if that’s what she wanted. She remained quiet though, her eyes watching his every move intently as he inched closer.
The closer proximity afforded him the ability to see her more clearly - the near dried tear streaks on her cheeks, eyes haunted and heavy with exhaustion, the slight tremble in her hands.
Peter spoke softly while extending a hand and gently placing it over one of her trembling ones, “Mora... it was just a bad dream. You’re safe now, I promise.”
Her body tensed momentarily at his touch, but she didn’t recoil from it. A moment later she relaxed a fraction, “I know.”
“Okay.” He gently squeezed her hand then slowly rubbed his thumb back and forth over her skin. He allowed a small smile to himself as he felt her relax further.
Gamora’s stare was trained on her lap, unwilling to meet his eyes quite yet. This was a lot for her, Peter knew - allowing him to see her like this rather than briskly pushing him out her door, falsely claiming to be ‘fine.’ He was humbled by these moments she allowed him to witness. Totally gut-wrenching, yes, that she had to even deal with such horrible nightmares and fears on a regular basis, but he was grateful she chose to trust him, nonetheless.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she answered immediately.
He swallowed, nervous for her answer to what he was about to ask next. “Do you want me to leave...?”
Gamora was softer this time as she spoke, “No.”
Relief washed over Peter, a smile on his lips. “Okay.” He scooted closer to her. “I don’t want to leave either.”
At that, Gamora finally looked up to meet his gaze. The hopeful sadness her dark eyes held, red-rimmed and bloodshot, had his heart clenching on the spot. He wondered idly how much good sleep she was truly getting as of late, if any at all. Peter's free hand balled up tightly at his side, actively fighting the urge to scoop her up and hold her tight to his chest, to kiss all the bad away.
They’re definitely not to the kissing stage of whatever it was they were. But god, if he didn’t want to do anything more in that moment... Peter dragged in a long steady breath, reeling in his completely inappropriate urges. That was not what Gamora needed right now.
Gamora slowly slid her other hand over Peter’s and curled her fingers around his. A faint smile touched her lips as she rested her head back against the wall. She didn’t say it in words but he knew what she was trying to relay - thank you .
“You’re tired." It was more of a statement than question. She made a noncommittal sound, as if her lack of rest wasn’t anything of importance. The corners of Peter’s lips tugged down slightly at that.
“Come here,” he mumbled, gently tugging on her hand as he began to scoot back and stretch out, laying down on the mattress. “Let’s lay down.”
Gamora watched him, apprehension momentarily freezing her in place. Peter’s arm remained patiently outstretched, allowing her to make the final move at her own pace.
Slowly, she pushed away from the wall and moved closer to Peter. His eyes were soft as was his smile, both drawing her to him, emanating the promise of comfort and safety.
Peter did his best to smooth out the rumpled covers with one hand and lifted them up for Gamora to slip underneath. Movements slow, Peter brought his arm up to wrap around her shoulders and hold her close. Only a moment later did Gamora sag into his embrace and nuzzle into his chest.
They laid like that, Peter wasn’t sure for how long, but the soft huffs of her breath evened out and her body relaxed completely against his, having finally fallen asleep.
He dipped his chin to get a good look at her - so beautiful; far too good for the hell she’s been forced to live through. He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his heart swelling with how at peace she looked now. If holding her every night meant she could get a more restful sleep, he’d never close his eyes without her in his arms again.
Peter sighed, not wanting or ready to give up holding her just yet but felt it was time to return to his quarters before accidentally drifting off to sleep, his own eyes growing heavier by the minute. He was successful in his attempts to comfort Gamora and soothe her back to sleep, but that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted him in her bed when she woke in the morning. Though they’ve decided to explore this unspoken thing between them, it’s been very slow moving for Gamora's sake. He didn’t want to push his luck with overstepping any boundaries and inadvertently making her uncomfortable.
Very gently, he began to ease out from underneath her, movements slow as not to wake her. Gamora stirred at the slight movement and clung tightly to his shirt. Peter froze unsure if he had woken her or not.
A soft moan rumbled in the back of her throat, eyes still shut as she spoke, voice raspy with sleep, “Stay.”
Peter couldn’t bite back the smile that broke across his face. “Okay,” his voice barely above a whisper. He eased back onto the mattress and Gamora cuddled closer to him, his arm wrapping protectively around her once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Gamora’s hum of contentment was the last thing Peter heard before they both drifted off to sleep.