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why_is_gamora (why_is_gamora) wrote in snapthread,

It was an awful thing to remember. The ground rushing up to meet her, the swoop in her stomach. It hadn't hurt, over so fast there was no time for pain. But those long moments knowing what she was leaving behind, the evil and the misery. No good came from her death, she'd achieved nothing, succeeded in nothing. Gamora closed her eyes a moment, just to blink it away, to firmly plant herself in now where her father was dead and she was not a trophy of his love and power.

But there had been something so intensely comforting knowing the lengths Peter was willing to go for her. The sacrifice of living with her blood on his hands and she'd had that, right at the end.

She leaned over him and her hair fell around his face in a curtain as she leaned down to kiss him again. "We didn't know what else to do," Gamora assured him gently.