[ Peter grimaces at the way she delivers the new so calmly.
"I need to remove the bullet," like that's not going to hurt like fuck.
But that's kind of her thing, Peter guesses, the whole stoic badass thing. He moves to the cabinets, fishing out supplies – bandages, antiseptics, a pair of tweezers, a scalpel. Everything gets deposited onto the counter beside the chair, within easy reach of Gamora, and Peter hovers. ]
no subject
"I need to remove the bullet," like that's not going to hurt like fuck.
But that's kind of her thing, Peter guesses, the whole stoic badass thing. He moves to the cabinets, fishing out supplies – bandages, antiseptics, a pair of tweezers, a scalpel. Everything gets deposited onto the counter beside the chair, within easy reach of Gamora, and Peter hovers. ]
What do you need me to do?