Everyone around seemed to be sick and Peter was -- well. He was mostly fine. He'd had a little head cold for a day or so, done a little sneezing, but by now he felt the same as he ever did.
Well. Maybe not exactly the same. He was worried about everyone, and had been waffling for the better part of the morning about whether or not he should go over to Gamora and Nebula's place and see if they were doing okay. On one hand, he wanted to know. On the other hand, he didn't want to get murdered or bother them if they didn't want it.
He couldn't remember ever having been so indecisive. It was terrible.
So, really, it was no wonder that he perked up when Nebula called out to him. "Nebula!" He crossed the lawn to get to her without bothering to be cool about it. "You doing okay? How's -- you look kinda like shit." Well, it was true. "Er. The fresh air is here. Like, anywhere outside."