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WHO: (

nostalgiabomb)
WHAT: Reunions
WHERE: District 1, apartment building

WHEN: Shortly after their arrivals
WARNINGS: Bickering, probably

[ How many times would she arrive in a place that looked like it belonged better on Earth this week? Apparently, twice. Which wasn't a whole lot, but it's annoying that it's happened twice. ]

[ It's unsettling not because it looks like Terra, but for the whys and hows. It's not like sleep is entirely unnecessary for her, but she hardly needs to do as much as someone else might and even if she did she hadn't been asleep. Her first instinct was to control her hand and turn it into a concussive gun, just in case, as she had made her way out of that stupid vehicle (train). With every fiber of her being determined to take it out on the first person she saw... except, there was no first person. ]

[ By the time she had found anyone else, she'd already turned her hand to normal. That conversation has been useless - someone else who'd been dragged here and just as unhelpful as she was. She'd left in a hurry, with more important things to do. Important being find a way back to Knowhere and find who - take names, kick ass you know - but hours had turned into a near day and the only information she had was that the dead could come back to life. Not Infinity Stone Science bullshit nonsense, but the actual dead. It's a spin and a half and for a moment her mind had wandered not about the woman she had met here but the her she'd met, if this place could bring her here too. ]

[ Too much of a headache and a what if to linger on, she'd kept her word and investigated the buildings they could. Had run headfirst - literally - into the edge of the district just to be turned around. She did it several times before accepting it for what it was and that acceptance is used loosely, she's not familiar with technology or magic that can do either. If this city was off to begin with, there's something hauntingly worse about defining it for what it is: ]

[ They're trapped in a prison. ]

[ Sure, a creepy prison that houses you with everything you need... Or it thinks you need, because what she needs is to be back on Knowhere. There's a city to maintain and rebuild and children to take care of. She has no time for off-shore vacations to other planets and she doesn't want one. But with the world circling in on itself, no ship in sight, and darkness pitching itself over the city even she knows when to go back to the drawing board for the day. ]

[ The drawing board, in this case, being the fact that she was still covered in soot and grime from their earlier battles and she'd long since found it disgusting. She didn't exactly have to break in anywhere, but it didn't stop her from finding first some clothes... And if she paused as she picked them up and couldn't find a way to pay for them before taking them and leaving, she didn't. Then found a restaurant that had street-food on display it... Shouldn't be possible and if it was poisoned, she'd find out, since at the moment she has the clothes under one arm and the food skewer in the other as she chews into it; At least the food tastes Terran, too, and she's got off-and-on experience with the New York area that she knows she doesn't hate it but — ]

[ Current mission: Look in these apartment buildings for a room that opens to clean up. Try not to make a mess, awkwardly apologize if it is someone's apartment (at this point, she doubts it is)... And well, maybe, rest for a couple hours. She thinks in terms of do, do, do or otherwise she'll just get frustrate at the situation all over again. ]

[ She finds herself then in the second floor of an apartment building, mid-ranged style and is on the verge of opening a door when down the other end, near the opposite exist, she spots something that can only be called familiar. Someone, who'd served often as a nuisance and attachment to her sister in their past that had evolved into someone more complicated - family. Her head turns sharply in the direction, but there is no double take because her mind doesn't let her forget anything. ]

Peter.

[ She half calls with a waver of surprise and then stops - almost accusingly adding: ]

How long have you been here?

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[ That's the fun thing about Nebula, Peter had decided a long time ago. Acts of microviolence like that are a surefire way to know that she's taken what someone's said to heart. Part and parcel of her whole "I'll make you wish for death, grrr" act that hides some deeply buried empathy and compassion and loneliness.

It would be cute, if it weren't inherently coupled with the very real danger of some mild property damage.

It's why his ears perk reflexively, listening for the clattering and shattering of ceramic, and when he doesn't, he relaxes. Not that it really matters. The dishware and the cookware were already here in the apartment; if it breaks, it breaks. Not like he bought them, anyway. Maybe if he's still feeling so wound up, he'll go shatter some cups and bowls later. That might be fun. ]

Aww, Nebs. That's awful romantic of you.

[ It's absolutely meant to be teasing, and it's absolutely cast out to get a rise out of her. ]

[ I'll make you wish for death, grr, is exactly how he makes her feel with that remark. Nebula stiffens, hands gripping the handle of the fork with the thought of it only takes a good stab in the eye — And then sighs with deep annoyance.

Drops it in the clean sink and picks up the towel lying nearby. With the same rough movement she would have used to stab a fork in a tender place, she moves to shove the towel into his chest as if to say 'clean the rest of your dishes,' and adds with a snort: ]

I'm not the idiot who fell for you.

[ ... said. like she... doesn't sometimes feel like she feels a lot of things for him that she doesn't want to (or would never truly to piece together) ]

[ Yeah, he kind of expected that.

She could've been far more violent with it, he knows, and it's not like it actually hurt or anything. That doesn't stop him from huffing out a quick oof like it did, nevertheless.

He at least catches the towel when she release it, and even if he rolls his eyes, he dutifully gets to his feet, taking up station at the sink. ]

She's your sister.

[ In that mildly reproachful way that says, Should you really be talking about her like that?

Obviously that's all they're talking about. ]

And?

[ Her response is cool, even. She folds her arms against her chest and leans her weight on hip. Her mouth the equivalent of an amused smirk as she adds: ]

There's no accounting for bad taste.

[ Despite himself, and despite the fucked up situation they still find themselves in, he breathes out a laugh. ]

What a very nice and not at all personally hurtful sentiment, Nebula. Thank you for sharing.

[ This, as he's scrubbing at the dishes. He sounds a little more like himself, this time; it's not nearly as artificial as it was, earlier. ]

[ That's a start, she thinks privately. She's not sure she can handle a moping Peter and angry Gamora all at once (which, well, the likelihood of some variation of that happening is high. ]

[ Still, she huffs: ]

Well, I'm sure as hell not about to start singing you praises.

You could, though. Sing my praises. Friends build each other up.

Here, I'll start:

[ He shuts off the water as he's putting the last couple of dishes away in the drying rack. As he's drying his hands, he turns to face her fully. ]

I appreciate you talking some sense into me. And even if the circumstances are shitty, I'm still glad you're here.

[ Then, because Peter's normal conversation an always switch into at least 15% bullshit, his expression shifts to something mischievous. ]

Also, you have really pretty eyes.

[ For a moment it's like her spirit has been consumed by an angry cat. Frankly, she walked right into that one, but it's a point to never check how the idiot is doing again. ]

[ Her expression is smoldering as she folds her arms, mouth tight before she half shouts: ]

Knock it off, before I rip your eyes out with my bare hands.

Yes, Nebula.

[ In that mild, agreeing way that betrays he feels absolutely no remorse for pissing her off and is, in fact, a little pleased with himself.

Acts of microviolence, see?

He does, at least, knock it off, evidenced by the way his expression sobers a little. ]

I was serious earlier, though. You're free to crash here if you want.

I said fine, didn't I?

[ Quickly, still fuming. All too aware of the fact he's proud of himself for it and hackles remain raised all the same. She breathes out her nostrils, ]

I'll find a place nearby tomorrow.

[ Because that's? Probably preferable? ]

[ Whoops. He might've pushed a little too far, there, and his expression takes on a slightly chagrined shadow. Not that he's sorry, exactly, but they both already have so few allies here as it is. By now they both know that petty teasing isn't likely to send either of them packing – stars know they did enough of that already during their original tenure as Guardians of the Galaxy – but, still. No need to antagonize each other further. ]

Yeah, if you want. I can lend you a hand. Or, you know, you can just hang out here. Or we can find some place for both of us.

[ —although maybe she wouldn't want that, Nebula being Nebula. Which is why he offers this halfhearted justification: ]

Safety in numbers. And we can find somewhere more defensible, or whatever.

[ :/ !!! It's true. She's annoyed at him right now, one step from microaggressions, but it hasn't brought Peter down in her head. The truth was, if it were between Gamora or Peter and she had to choose one right now the former would win just because of history. That's a lot of damned loyalty right there — it doesn't make her any less amused. ]

[ Sharing a ship is one thing. A semi-adjacent apartment complex another. There's nothing final in staying in the same one here, at least, but the offer is strange in a way she can't quite place. Not unusual, just strange. ]

Defensible — defensible with what means? [ Questioned, sharply quickly, with the barest hint of amused annoyance. Not him, or him for even suggesting it. But anything they'd do would require a lot more work than just buying equipment regardless. Her arm not working is frankly an insult. ]

... Fine. If it makes you feel better.

[ With the same tone of 'I'd be fine alone' even if deep down she's grateful for the offer. At least for now, until he and Gamora figure out where they stand with each other. Then she might be happier a few planets away. ]

[ He snorts, then, waving a hand sharply. For all his complaining about lacking a weapon, he clearly doesn't seem altogether worried on this front. ]

We'd improvise.

[ As they do with most things. It's the Guardians Way™. ]

But, hey, if you really wanna find a place on your own, go ahead. I'm not gonna stop you.

[ And if she does turn around and decide to do just that, he'll be annoyed about it, sure, but he'll probably just make an extra effort to keep tabs on her, to maintain a steady beat of contact. She'll probably bristle at that, too, but Nebula bristles at everything. ]

Are you and Gamora not...?

[ He trails off, but it's pretty clear what he means: they aren't partnered together already? They're not practically attached at the hip? ]

Do you want me to stay here or not?

[ Interjected and immediate, with the traces of annoyance: Let's not beat around the bush here, Star-Lord. Because he's right, she'll bristle at everything — she'll bristle at this. ]

[ Peter's second question is met with silence. She wonders for a moment what he really thinks their relationship was, after all this time. They'd barely gotten to a point where they were friends or sisters, it makes her snort out a laugh. ]

Are we what? My sister and I were only partners in battle in name only, as Daughters of Thanos. Then, when she was free of him she had the Guardians.

[ The Guardians which Nebula was not a part of. In that timeline, likely would never have been a part of. She would have rather died than let Gamora save her from Thanos for the Soul Stone. A thousand times more, now, knowing exactly what transpired in the time that passed. She's protective of her, friends and sisters in their own way, but they're not so attached in that way. ]

Our relationship isn't some happy family playing house.

[ Pointed. They'd never got the chance to be. ]

I know that.

[ And he punctuates it with another sharp wave of his hand, like he's sweeping the words away.

Because as much as Gamora and Nebula's relationship was frequently a big question mark for him, he was at least familiar enough to know that it definitely had a big, giant sign in neon tubing that flashed "IT'S COMPLICATED!!!!!!!" in varying eye-searing colors.

But there was loyalty there, and some semblance of trust, especially in the later days. Maybe not as much in the newer days (and how fucked is it, that he has to think in those terms? Time travel is fucking complicated), but he has to assume they might have been headed toward that direction again. ]

Just figured you'd want to watch each other's backs. I dunno. Some badass warrior code thing.

[ The look she gives him is that of exasperation: then why would you ask? They may have been steps ahead in the past, but that was eight years ago. Gamora's come back from the dead - she needs her time, Nebula's gonna give it. ]

She knows how to contact me if she needs to. If she does, I'll be there.

[ Coolly, like there's nothing else she'd dream of doing. It's not like they hadn't essentially said they'd share information regardless.]

Besides, shouldn't I be asking you that? The first thing you thought of wasn't asking her to stay here?

Edited 2023-07-19 04:43 (UTC)

[ He falls quiet at that, turning a little to toss the towel he had been holding onto the counter. And if it has the benefit of allowing him to not look at Nebula, more's the better. ]

Figuring out the living situation wasn't exactly at the top of our list of topics.

[ And he says it lightly, like it's yet another joke. ]

Then why would it be any different for us?

[ It's said with the same pointed levelness, but there's something mixed in it, too. The closest Nebula will say that she has a complicated mess of feelings about the whole thing, too. ]

[ "Because you're sisters," he nearly says.

But he hesitates, taking a moment to glance at Nebula. He frowns a little, pensive, then his expression sets into something concerned and attentive. He gives into his curiosity and just comes right out and asks it: ]

What happened?

[ ... ]

Nothing happened.

[ Nebula's response is automatic with a touch of age-old roboticness. It doesn't sound like it so much anymore, thanks to Rocket's help with enhancements, but the too clipped, short responses remain an as always sign of a time long ago. ]

Some of us are better at keeping our cool.

[ Funny, coming from Nebula who's probably the quickest to anger Guardian about asinine things. Still, she folds her arms and looks away. As someone who did survive the Decimation, holding onto hope for what was lost wasn't something she did. Her sister had died before the Blip happened. The Guardians were people she could call to help Gamora, knew at a distance, but they weren't ones she was so attached to that it felt like a hole like so much of the universe. When they did return and past!Gamora did, she was relieved to see her sister - unlike Peter, for her all Gamoras were Gamora. Their relationship was always different in that respect. And still. ]

[ Still. ]

I do not know what I'm supposed to say to her.

[ Peter, for all that he's an impatient asshole at the best of times, knows when to wait someone out. One of the better qualities he learned over his years as team captain. Prickly or private as most of the team was, he knew that poking and prodding someone into talking was a surefire way to get them to dig in their heels and hunker down for the long haul.

So when she finally starts talking, when she finally offers that bare admission, he nods a little. He can't say he has much in the way of advice, on that front – and god knows anything he offers at this point would be the cherry on top of a giant, hypocritical sundae – but he at least understands where she's coming from.

It's why he offers a quiet, ]

Yeah. I get it.

[ IT'S COMPLICATED!!!! In the biggest, blinking-est, neon-est lights that money can by. ]

I told her what happened. After.

[ Sort of. In the broadest strokes possible – which is usually how he tells most of his stories, anyway.

And he clearly feels there's no need to clarify what "after" means, in this context. ]

So far, she's had, like—

[ He sucks in a breath through his teeth, tipping his head from one side to the other as he calculates. ]

—I dunno. A couple hours to sit with it all.

[ At least they had the benefit of working through it over the span of years. And some folks processed it better than others, obviously. ]

She's... still really close to all the shit that went down.

[ Nebula kept her eyes half-cast, arms remaining firmly folded. She hates that awkward feeling, the not knowing what to do. A twisting of guilt - of being the one she'd die for - she doesn't like it. Doesn't like that feeling of uncertainty and weakness, something that lingers like a sour taste in her mouth. It's like hope, fleeting and bitter. ]

I am aware. We spoke of some things.

[ In broader strokes: When Gamora came from, that Thanos was dead, and the Guardians were alive. Things that mattered. What else would she need to know? Or want to know. ]

Gamora is not the kind of person who wants to be judged by a life she did not live. [ It's the obvious answer - Peter should know it well by now. A fact she can understand. Hadn't she killed her past self who couldn't see a life outside of escaping Thanos? (Had she told Peter that, ever? Probably not - ) ]

She should be allowed time.

[ The irony, because she had no time before. Now she has all the time this world may give her. ]

Edited 2023-07-19 05:36 (UTC)

[ He lets out a long breath, nodding. ]

Yeah.

[ With resignation, because he knows Nebula's right. And even though part of him wants to scour the streets and put Gamora's picture up on milk cartons and asking folks, "Have you seen this green-skinned woman?" to track her down so that he can help walk her through it all, he knows that doing anything like that is definitely more for him than it is for her.

And Peter can be a selfish prick, sometimes, but even now he can tell this isn't a good time to listen to those instincts. ]

Maybe she'd be more comfortable if you talked to her, though. When she's ready to talk, I mean.

[ Peter's not wrong. Between the two of them, she's the better one to have an indepth conversation with having been there through all of it. Lives it and worked with the Gamora from 2014. How much the other one will want to know — that's a different story. ]

[ Yet, it's not like she'd hide it if asked. ]

We'll see.

[ There will come a day, she's sure, where something comes to a head. Reasonably or angrily, she doesn't know, but she'll take it one way or another. ]

... You should try to rest.

I'm fine.

[ Yet another token response, and the corner of his mouth quirks up a little, just to acknowledge how automatic that answer is. ]

I'm not the one that just came from a huge battle, anyway.

[ And he punctuates it with a jerk of his chin toward wherever it is Nebula placed her uniform. Peter, at least, has had a month away from it. ]

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