Chapter 12: We're Going Home

On the mid-point of their twenty first cycle since leaving Titan she stumbled upon the Terran collapsed on the floor of the flight deck. One arm was drawn through the sleeve of the leather coat, the other tucked under his head, as though he had simply given up and fallen asleep half-way through the act of putting it on. His helmet sat nearby in silent vigil, its disfigured eyes empty and devoid of sorrow or pity as its master struggled for life before it.

She had thought, upon her initial discovery, that he was already dead. A strange sort of nausea washed over her body as she reached down to place her fingers against his neck, more than half expecting to find the skin cold and lifeless, perhaps even beginning to stiffen. She had slept for a little longer than she had intended, her body and mind already beginning to betray her in little ways as they conceded defeat in bits and pieces against the imposing death. A pain twisted in her gut as she wondered if he had called out for her, and she had failed to answer...

There was a pulse, incredibly faint but real, and his skin was not quite warm, but it felt alive, for now. He did not wake, however, as she tugged him from the floor, nor offer any witty commentary as she struggled to hold him up and string his other arm through the empty sleeve of the jacket before dragging him up and into his favored seat where he could lay under the stars. She doubted he would be opening his eyes again, but from here the starlight could wash over his face, and he wouldn't have to die curled up on the filthy floor of the Benatar like some mangy old orlani. When he was settled on the chair, and arranged as comfortably as she could manage, she cast her gaze about in search of the absent blanket. He often took it off to make his recordings.

When it did not immediately come to sight in the flight deck, she thought he may have left it in the other room. As she stepped away, her fingers trailed down his shoulder, and skirted the edge of his faux heart. He was already so cold. Her skin hardly missed the warmth as she pulled her fingers away into the icy air and didn't look back.

There was nothing she could do to stop his dying, but she didn't have to sit here and watch it happen. She would fetch him his blanket, and then she would not return. He could keep the stars. They meant nothing to her now.

As she rifled through the common room a golden glow crept in beneath her feet to wash over the cabin, illuminating the space which had been dark for so long that she had nearly forgotten what it looked like. Had the walls always been that colorful? Ignoring the sparks of dread and hope warring within her, she abandoned her search and cautiously returned to peer around the entrance to the flight deck.

What she found was surprising, even to one who had seen as many strange and unbelievable things as she had; a single body, alight with some sort of burning energy. A female, of that she was reasonably certain as her eyes burned and watered at the bright light after so many cycles of darkness, but from what race she could not yet hazard a guess. They were almost Terran, but the powers they displayed and the lack of protective gear against the unforgiving vacuum of space belied that. Perhaps another half-breed, like her sister's Terran?

In his seat, Tony appeared to have somehow been woken by the burning light. One hand was raised to shield his eyes, but his gaze was unfocused, and no spark of excitement over their rescue lit his face. Likely, he believed this to be some fevered dream. She hardly believed what she was seeing herself.

To further cast doubt on their Terran origin, the dazzling woman lifted her arms in a wordless greeting, a familiar signal often used by scrappers and rescue vessels to communicate with damaged ships which lacked radios. Hope slowly wrestled dread back, and Nebula stepped into sight to return the gesture.

The woman's eyes flickered in surprised recognition when they landed on the assassin, but when her arms shifted to their next signal, it was to inquire after the number of survivors on board. Another standard protocol the stranger flowed through with the ease of one who was well experienced with space travel.

Nebula signed back, 'Two.'

A frown. The woman's eyes shifted as though counting the bodies before her.

Hope again grew bolder. Whoever this stranger was, they seemed to have been expecting more survivors. They may have been sent from Earth, and that meant this may be a true rescue after all, and not a hostile takeover.

The stranger pointed at Tony, who was nodding his head slightly, as though he had determined this was a dream after all, and was returning to his rest. Another signal, a broad sweep with both arms inquiring after his condition.

Nebula raised one fist to her chest, then twisted her wrist to flash her open palm at the windshield. 'Alive.' Like the beat of a heart. One flash, and then she dropped it deliberately to her side. 'Just barely.'

Another frown, this one forming wrinkles in her pale brow that Nebula could see from across the distance. The next sign was a request to board.

Nebula snapped her arms up into a large X across her chest. 'Denied.'

Clearly, the stranger had not been expecting that. She gave the request again, a bit more forcefully this time, like she was certain she had been misunderstood.

'Denied.' Nebula repeated, then, after a moment's consideration added; 'Low atmosphere.'

She turned a meaningful glance at the Terran beside her who had lowered his hand back to his chest and closed his eyes. Rescue or not, they couldn't spare the oxygen it would cost to allow someone to board from space. It would be best of whoever this stranger was would stop trying to interrogate them through the windshield and take them onto whatever ship she had come here on.

The stranger, at last, seemed to understand, biting her lip as she gave up on her request and stared thoughtfully at the dying man. When she met Nebula's eyes again, it was with a new signal, a warning to prepare for a tow. It was Nebula's turn to deepen her frown. Who knew how long a tow could take? The nearest jump was a long time away, even with a fresh ship. They needed to be taken on board. Tony needed to be taken on board. Before she could gather a reply, however, the woman had vanished, dipping under the ship as gracefully as though she were flying.

Nebula waited for the ship to appear to tow them, but no such sight came. She was so busy craning her head about in search of some sign of the vessel, that she almost didn't notice the pattern in which the stars were moving in time. As the ground lurched underneath her -an illusion caused by the gravity center struggling to re-calibrate inside a worm hole- she grabbed the Terran roughly by the shoulders and pinned him to his seat to prevent him from being jostled or thrown to the floor as they entered a jump point that, by all her knowledge, shouldn't exist here.

At her touch, Tony drew himself again from sleep, this time he managed to turn his head and focus his eyes on her.

"Space-girl?" he asked.

"I believe you're friends have found you."

A hand reached up to settle over one of hers and give it a weak squeeze. "We're going home," he breathed, a smile that didn't quite make it to his lips danced in the deepest depths of his tired eyes.

She didn't correct him.

-x-

Earth appeared in unreasonable time, but she would not complain in the face of this latest twist of fortune. The ground grew closer, details resolving through the dark of night into a white compound with an open field before it, and Nebula tugged the Terran to his feet. Some realization of what was happening stirred him to life, but even so, she was left supporting most of his weight as she all but carried him towards the loading ramp to greet the first rush of new oxygen as the hatch opened.

Fresh air and wet grass had never smelled so sweet in all her life. Her lungs had nearly forgotten what it was to breath without herculean effort, and she allowed herself to take a deep satisfying breath as she helped the Terran pick his way down the stairs. His companions were already rushing across the field to meet them. A man with short blond hair sprung up the ramp, hardly sparing her a glance before tugging Tony's free arm over his own shoulder and twisting to plow ahead, back towards the compound from which he had just come. When Nebula released her grip, allowing Tony's weight to be snatched away without protest, he twisted to shoot her a startled look,a strange rush of terror overtaking his eyes for the briefest moment.

She didn't dare speak her reassurances, not with so many unfamiliar witnesses, but she tried to convey her intentions with her eyes as he was tugged away. Not long after he was met with a second companion which swept up his attention, a woman with long straight hair that flashed a pale gold in the compound lights. From the relief with which he met her, Nebula assumed this must be Pepper, and she spared him no further thought, secure in the knowledge he would be cared for as she turned her thoughts to a more immediate responsibility which was rushing across the field now, with white tipped ears pricked high in a hope she was doomed to crush.

Exhausted from her trek, and the shock of rescue, she slumped down to sit on the steps while the fox approached. As he drew near, he slowed, his hopeful ears drawing back and the white markings across his brows making his expression of grief all the more stark in the poor light.

No words were exchanged as he tip toed up the steps, eyes glued to her face as though hoping at any moment she might proclaim it all a joke, and the family he was waiting for would leap from the ship. Again, she found herself suddenly in the place of filling in for what should have been anyone else. A poor replacement, with nothing in her pockets, or on her tongue, and nothing to give but her company.

The fox flopped down to sit next to her, his back hunched and whiskers drooped miserably. He understood. There was no need to say it out loud, and she appreciated that, at least. After a moment at her side, he lifted one heavily modified paw and patted the back of her hand in a gesture that was strangely reminiscent of the Terran. Almost without thought, she twisted her palm up to take his hand, and offer her own comfort in turn. Somehow, he had become the closest thing to familiar she had left in this strange universe.

"What-" His voice hitched, and he had to clear his throat before starting over. "What happened to 'em?"

She gazed around at the empty compound, save for the last of the Terrans chasing their injured companion back into the bright compound. The tree was nowhere in sight, and the fox was never far from his youngest companion."

"I think you already know."

His answer was a grunt.

After that they sat in silence again until his hand grew too warm in hers and he pulled it away.

"You're not lookin' so hot there, Nebula." He still didn't look at her directly as he stood, and she marveled at how strange the sound of her own name had become. "Why don't I show you where the kitchen is in this dump? I could use a mornin' snack."

Nebula heaved herself back to her feet, forcing her tired body to life for the promise of food and water. They hadn't made it half-way across the short cropped grass, however, before the compound door swung open again and the strange, impossible woman who had found them in the deepest dredges of space stepped through.

Nebula hadn't forgotten the recognition on the stranger's face when she had first spotted the infamous assassin, and now Nebula stopped to watch her approach warily. Rocket slowed to a stop as well, shooting his companion a confused look as her shoulders stiffened and her fingers curled into fists that made her hands ache at the effort. She was in no condition to put up much of a struggle if it came down to real blows, but she would not simply roll over and accept her fate gracefully either.

When the stranger reached them, however, she just paused to hold out a bottle of water in one hand, and a bar of something in the other.

"For you," the woman pressed, waving the bottle in emphasis when Nebula just stared at it through narrowed eyes as though she were being handed poison. If her reputation had proceeded her, it may be. The woman sighed, snapping the top off in one swift motion and took a giant swig of the drink. "It's just water," she said, wiping at her lips and again shoving the bottle at Nebula who accepted it wordlessly, eyes still on the stranger.

"You're Nebula, right? I recognized you right away. Thanos's daughter."

"She's a Guardian, now," Rocket surprised them both by speaking up, his ears tipped back at the blond woman in an obvious display of warning. "You jus' didn't get her in the briefing 'cause I didn't expect her to be there. Seems it's lucky she was, or your guy'd be space-toast."

Nebula felt her brows wrinkle at the unexpected defense but she supposed, just as he was her last shard of familiarity and connection to anything worthwhile from her life before, she was his.

"Relax," the woman held her now free hand up in appeasement. "I'm not here to start a fight." Her eyes rose to meet Nebula's gaze, a tiredness in them that belied her otherwise youthful appearance. "I'm the last person to be judging you, anyways."

Nebula narrowed her eyes against a fresh wave of confusion. The drink in her hand was growing heavy, and her legs were beginning to shout their protest at standing for so long, but she refused to shift and show her weakness.

"My name is Carol Danvers, but I used to go by Vers for a while, when I served under Ronan." A wry smile curled at Carol's lips. "I've spent a great deal of time traveling across the universe trying to right my own wrongs, and I heard all about the assault on Xandar. We served under the same general if I'm not mistaken."

This was news to Nebula. Admittedly, she hadn't cared to know much about the Kree warlord from before her brief shift at his side. Her interest extended no further than the hope that he might prove a weapon worthy enough to wield against her father. Instead, he had met a swift and pitiful demise at the hands of her own sister's new family.

"Well," Carol continued, with a meaningful look at the bottle Nebula still hadn't raised to her own lips, "enough standing around in the dark. Why don't we go inside?" She stepped back and tugged the door she had come through open again, a bright golden light flooding out to sting Nebula's eyes.

Rocket followed her right in, and Nebula stepped in afterwards. Her eyes adjusted painfully to the lights as the door clicked shut behind them, and Carol typed something into a small pad beside the entrance. An alarm, no doubt. Briefly, Nebula wondered if Thanos had left any form of threat behind in his wake. She doubted it, it wasn't his usual style to linger on planets like this when he was through with them. But then, with his task finally completed, who was to say that he was bound by his usual patterns?

"If you need the infirmary, I'm sure there's still room-"

"I'm fine," Nebula interrupted in a tone that invited no argument. Something twisted in her gut, a strange tugging that urged her to take the invitation if only to set her eyes on the companion which had been spirited away. She hated infirmaries, however, with enough passion to effectively drown out the much newer and weaker emotions within her which could not yet identify. He would be safe. He was among his own people now. If the tugging persisted, then perhaps she would find a way to slip in later, when the others had left.

The edges of Carol's lips twisted downward at the tactless refusal, but she relented and dropped the arm that had been raised to point towards an open doorway to her left. "Okay. If you change your mind, it's two rights, and a left. Hard to miss. I'll let you be, now." Carol skirted around the last remains of the Guardians and made a line for an open doorway that led deeper into the compound. Before she vanished entirely she spun around to point a finger in the opposite direction. "The kitchen is that way. Guest rooms and bunks are further down the main hall. I'm sure Rocket can help you find anything else you need."

And then she was gone with a flick of gold hair and the crisp stomp of her boots fading quickly after.

"Eh, don't mind her too much," Rocket mumbled, scratching at the back of one ear. "She's just upset she came so late to the party. I think all'a her friends got dusted, too. C'mon, let's get somethin' that doesn't have her germs all over it."

Nebula smirked and dumped the contents of the bottle into a nearby plant as they passed it.

Whoever this Carol Danvers was, she was no normal Terran, and if she knew as much about Nebula and her status among the rest of the universe outside of this isolated dirtball as she had hinted, then she warranted watching. With the return of oxygen and all the precious things that promised life, came the return of reality as well, and there was no alley dark enough, or back-road deep enough to escape the looming shadow of who she really was. Even as her body cried out in relief at the food and water which awaited her, an ominous weight settled in her stomach and dragged at her heels.

End

Chapter 13 Preview: "...Yeah, well, you don't smell so great yourself, Miss Potts," he lied, thinking he could spend the rest of the day with his nose buried in her much-too-fruity and slightly greasy hair.

When she pulled away again his head felt clearer than it had in days, and he craned his head around her in search of a familiar blue face. He was met with nothing but the pale and pastel colors of the recovery room, and an empty bed beside him.

"Where's Space-girl?..."

.

I waited the entire movie for some mention of how Nebula and Carol technically both worked for Ronan at some point. It never came. lol.

I don't intend for them to remain at odds.

Okay, soooo this is where I realize I don't remember the exact details of the chain of events in the opening of the movie between rescue and the time skip as I had hoped. I'm going to do my best to keep things in some semblance of order, and just... be vague about what I can, but don't be afraid to speak up or message me if I bungle something and it's just super contradictory. I might be able to fix it, I might not, but at least I'll know... I'm sure I will mess some stuff up, though. I haven't watched it since it first came out. There's a few clips on Youtube which help, a little, but not all that much.

Also! Starting next update, the chapters with switch between stronger focuses/points of view with Nebula and Tony according to whoever I think fits that chapter better. Next one will be Tony's perspective.

Less exciting announcement, is because this project expanded longer than I had envisioned, I'll be using lines from other Blue October songs as titles. Otherwise I'll just... run out. The last chapter, which I've had planned for a while now, will still be Titled "She's my Ride Home," though.

Thank you for reading!

-OMaM