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Chapter Text

The ship was in rough shape but it would get them, at the very least, off Titan. That’s all Nebula cared about. Thanos would return, he would use his now infinite power to restore at least the illusion of his dead home world and they didn’t need to linger while he did.

She grabbed the Terran and shoved him aboard, trying to be considerate of his squishy, bloody body. “We need to go.”

His face was blank and his voice was choked with grief. “Go where?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know how far this piece of shit will take us,” she said. Her voice didn’t sound right, her body didn’t feel right, and her mind was on fire with the loss of her sister. The Guardians.

Her family.

“Maybe I could…” he said, stepping forward, but then he looked lost and scared again. “This tech isn’t far off my own, maybe I could fix it?” he was more speaking to himself than anyone else.

“Yeah, but hovering in mid-air while you’re nursing a stab wound?” she shot back, forcing him to sit and focusing on the controls. Once they were far enough away from Titan, she turned back to him, finding some scrap of bandage to tape onto the wound. “We’re going to need help.”

“Help for what?”

“To kill Thanos.”

“He won, Ripley, what’s there left to do?” Tony snapped, wincing. The boy – the Terran’s son, she guessed – that loss had left him with rough edges to spare. Nebula understood.

“My name is Nebula,” she corrected. “And if you don’t want to help, that’s fine, but I’m going to avenge my sister.” She turned back to the controls, looking for the comm link and trying desperately to come up with an idea. Her mind was too frantic. Deep breaths. You are Nebula, she told herself. You will do this.

A spark was forming behind the Terran’s eyes. “Avenge…” A pause. “Earth, then. What direction is that?”

“There aren’t really…directions in space,” she drawled, taking in his renewed interest. “Earth? You mean Terra? Like where Quill was from?”

She flinched. Was from. Quill.

She had barely even liked Star-Munch but Gamora had loved him, and he had done everything he could for her. That was enough. They were connected in that way. And…Quill was…Quill had been a…

“Yeah, I guess that’s what you call it. How do we get there?”

The Milano groaned plaintively. “Not in this thing. We need to call for backup.” She realized her move as the word lit a little fire of desperation in her mind.

“Who’s left to call?” he asked, but he sounded sincerely curious, rather than snarky.

A Ravager, she told herself.

“Hopefully, a pilot,” she said. Half of the galaxy was gone, but the other half…the other half would have to rise from those ashes and fix this. Hopefully.

All Nebula could do was pray that he was still even alive. She had never prayed before. There were not gods in the galaxy that had wrecked her body and mind and family. There couldn’t have been.

But there she was, praying.

She pressed a few buttons. “Idiot? Are you there?” she asked, her voice still feeling soft and wrong and sad. She didn’t even know where he had gone, why he hadn’t been with Peter and the others.

“Is your crazy ass still alive?” came the sleepy, shell-shocked reply.

He was alive. She could have laughed. She could have cried.

She tried to keep her voice even. “I need a pick-up. You able to fly?”

“Where?”

“About twelve clicks outside of Titan’s atmosphere. We need a ride to Terra.” She didn’t want to say it over comms. She didn’t want him to ask. Their entire friendship, for want of a better phrase, was founded on a lack of conversation. He had to keep it up.

She couldn’t tell him that his only remaining family was dead. Not until she saw him.

“See you then.”

--

Tony Stark had no idea what to make of the man who would be their rescuer. The ship was massive – all rounded edges and gaping windows – big enough for the little fighter ship to park inside of it. It seemed, despite its size, to be wholly uninhabited except by that one man.

He was tall and lanky, wearing red leather, covered in tattoos and sporting a short mohawk.

Nebula approached him slowly. They brought their foreheads together in what, to a normal person, probably would have been a painful headbutt, but just looked mildly affectionate between two aliens who were both obviously battle worn.

He was having a hard time gauging what this relationship was when they hastily pulled back, both uncomfortable with the show of affection in front of him, a veritable stranger.

“This is Tony. He’s from Terra,” Nebula said.

He looked around. “Are you…”

“They’re all dead. I don’t know where Rocket and Groot are. They went with some Asgardian.”

Instead of reacting to this news, whatever it meant to him, he turned to Tony. “Kraglin Obfonteri,” the alien said, holding out a hand. Tony shook it briefly, leaving a smudge of red on his hand.

“Sorry about the blood. Tony Stark.”

“I’ve had worse,” he said dismissively, and it was definitely true.

“So, uh, who are you exactly?” By the look of him; dirty and scarred with a heavy drawl and several knives stashed in various parts of his leather jumpsuit, Tony would not have named him “friend”. But then, the leather jacket did resemble the one that Star-Lord had worn.

Kraglin Obfonteri looked back at Nebula, and helped her steer Tony into a seat before leveling him with a cool, unnerving look. “You met Pete?”

Tony cringed. Not that Peter, the other one. “You mean Star-Lord?”

He nodded.

“Yeah we were acquainted.”

“He was my brother. Kinda. I mean, adopted,” he said, with an ungainly jerk of his shoulder. He didn’t let that sentence sit with Tony at all before he turned back to the controls. “So, headin’ to Terra?” He had a feeling that the two people he was stuck in space with were not the most emotionally open aliens in the galaxy, to say the least.

Worked for him, he didn’t think he could handle his feelings for a second longer.

--

“We need to get a message into space,” Rocket told the girl who seemed to be in charge. She was young, maybe whatever age Groot had been, but she had been hastily proclaimed Queen of Wakanda – whatever that was, in the days since it had happened.

“Okay, let me – ” she said, reaching over the keyboard. “I can run a relay to our satellites to expand the range, so you can look for any outgoing signals…”

Thor was looking on appreciatively. “What remains of my people will be transmitting as well, I sent them to safety with some of our more formidable warriors.”

“And if any…any of my friends are left, they’ll come,” Rocket said, his voice faltering. He felt so stupid and weak now. Helpless. He hadn’t even been able to help his own kid!

Thor put a hand on Rocket’s head. “We’ll find them, my friend.”

Thor was a stone-cold weirdo, but Rocket liked him a lot. It was like a prettier, more articulate version of Drax. At least he was still around.

It only took the girl a few minutes to bring up a screen that he could read. Everything in the lab looked foreign to him, it had the polished, sophisticated style of something the Nova Corps might use, but it could have even been more advanced.

But the readout of the signals bouncing around space, that he understood. He almost felt calm as he looked at it.

“That one,” he said. It was coming off the Quadrant. Did that mean --?

A screen came up.

“Rocket?”

“Kraglin! Fuck, it’s great to see your fucking face!” he said, wincing, because there were children around. Old habits, he guessed. “Where’s Quill?”

Kraglin’s face fell a little and Rocket knew the worst was true. He didn’t want to hear it, not over this screen, not a million miles away. Nebula floated into the line of vision.

“We’ll be there soon. We’ve got a Terran who says he knows these people – Tony Stank, or something? He’s going to need medical attention. We did our best but…”

There was a smattering of giggles that Rocket ignored. “I’ll beam you our coordinates. That big forcefield, can you open it when they come into orbit?” he said, turning to the queen girl, who nodded, appraising the aliens on the screen with wide eyes.

“Prep the medical equipment,” she told someone behind her, and the few people remaining around them started scrambling around. “We don’t know when they’re landing but we need to be ready. The world can’t lose Iron Man today.”

“Friend of Rabbit,” Thor said, leaning in.

Kraglin furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“A ship of Asgardian refugees will be en route here as well, could you pick them up on your way? Your ship seems larger and better resourced than our escape pods,” he said, all the solemnity of a king.

“We’ll find them,” Kraglin agreed, and he seemed unsure of what else to do but hastily cut the transmission, possibly as flustered by Thor’s beauty as Drax and Mantis had been.

Were they really all dead? Groot, Quill, Drax, Mantis, even Gamora?

Was this really all he had left?

--

The Asgardian survivors were subdued, most of them had fear in their eyes when the Ravager ship descended upon them, but Tony was feebily able to convince them that he knew Thor and someone named Bruce Banner and the leader of the Asgardians, two warrior women, shepherded the pathetically thin herd of survivors into the belly of the Quadrant.

“We gotta do somethin’ about this, Tony,” Kraglin said, pulling the soiled bandages off of his wound. He had been slipping in and out of sleep, every little motion pulling the wound apart any time it made an effort to close. He wouldn’t lie still enough to heal without proper treatment.

“You a doctor, Deliverance?” he snapped.

“I’m a Ravager, Stank, we all learned how to do our own stitching early on,” he said, pulling something out of the inner pocket of his jumpsuit. “Keep an eye on the controls and watch for Rocket’s signal,” he shot back to Nebula, who took a seat in his usual chair, glancing over at the them sporadically as they waited.

“Anyone got any booze?” he asked.

“Not made for a Terran,” the leader of the Asgardians said, but she handed it over anyway. Kraglin took a swig and made a comically uncomfortable face. He gave Tony a pathetically small capful. “This is gonna hurt, Friend of Hulk,” she said, patting him roughly on the shoulder.

Tony closed his eyes, and the improvised surgery started. It probably should have happened two days ago, but even just cleaning it had been agony.

“This is only gonna stop a bit of bleedin’, but your friends can help ya with the rest,” he said.

“Are we not friends yet?” Tony asked. “You just stitched me up. Where I’m from, that’s friendship.”

Nebula rolled her eyes when Kraglin looked at her.

“Y’know, I always thought Pete was just a fuckin’ weirdo. Turns out everyone from Terra’s crazy,” he told her. The comm pinged. “We must be in the right spot. Prepare for descent. Everyone find a comfortable seat.”

The descent was bumpy but not as rough as some of her landings had been in the past few years. Kraglin was a deft pilot, and she had always been more of a berserker. “Where is this?” she asked Tony, who was clinging to consciousness.

“Wakanda. It’s…in Africa. Most advanced nation in the world, ruled by a King. T’Challa. The Black Panther.” That was all he managed to rattle off before either the thimble of booze or the pain put him to sleep.

She lifted him up with ease, and the Asgardian warrior women accompanying them gave her an appreciative chuckle. In a better life, maybe the three of them would be friends. Gamora and Mantis, too. They needed more friends.

But now wasn’t the time.

The door opened onto a grassy field, where a haphazard group of survivors awaited them.

Nebula went first, Tony in her arms. Two people carrying a hovering stretcher between them rushed forward and gently took him from her, and she irrationally found herself not wanting to let him go. They had survived Titan together, and she almost wanted to know that he’d be okay.

“Welcome to Wakanda,” a very young woman said, stepping forward. “I am Queen Shuri,” she said, and her voice caught on the words.

“Will he be all right?”

“We have the most advanced medical technology in the world here, you have my word that he will be all right.”

Behind her, a tall man with a beard and a dark, star-emblazoned uniform stepped forward, reaching a hand out. “Thank you for looking out for him,” he said. She took his hand and he almost looked startled by her cybernetic arm.

“It’s not real.”

“I had a friend with a metal arm,” he said, sadness plain on his face. “My name’s Steve Rogers.”

Nebula could only nod. “Nebula.”

“These are your friends, Rabbit?” a tall Asgardian asked, approaching them with Rocket.

“He’s a fox,” Nebula corrected automatically.

Rocket groaned. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Yes, this is my friend Nebula. Gamora’s sister.”

Maybe she expected anger at her relation to Thanos, maybe she was just used to being hated and feared, but instead, she was met with sympathetic eyes. He put a hand on her shoulder. “I had an adopted sibling too. Also blue, funny enough. Tried to kill me a lot. But I lost him to Thanos as you have lost your sister. For that, we will have our revenge.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked this guy or if he was just so handsome that her general preference towards women was weakening.

Kraglin cleared his throat pointedly and she shook Thor off and rejoined him.

“Kraglin Obfonteri,” Rocket said, as he stepped forward and grasped his friend’s hand. “Thor, King of Asgard.”

Kraglin had cleared never thought he would be meeting so much royalty in a capacity that didn’t involve him being executed. “Right, nice to meet ya.”

“Kraglin’s a Ravager,” Rocket continued, addressing the people nearest.

“I knew those emblems looked familiar,” Thor said. “Ravagers helping save the Galaxy. Truly an amazing time we live in.”

Nebula had no idea how to react to that optimism, so she just knelt down to speak face to face with Rocket. Up close, he looked as awful as she did. Groot, she remembered with a jolt of pain, was gone. “They’re all gone and we need a plan,” she told him a low voice, unsure of if she could trust the people surrounding them.

Rocket nodded. “I can’t believe…”

“Let us go inside, before it rains,” Queen Shuri announced pointedly.

The Asgardians had filed out of the ship, greeted with gusto by Thor. The rock guy (Kord? Gork? She didn’t remember, but he had given her a flyer in a language she couldn’t read as a way to be nice.) and the scissor-handed bug guy hugged him tightly (as tightly as a guy with knife hands could hug) before the two warriors overtook him.

Inside the palace, they all shot off in different directions, and Nebula didn’t want to go too far from Kraglin and Rocket, as if they might vanish before her eyes if she wasn’t there.

That wasn’t how it worked, she told herself.

“Why don’t we go see Tony?” Steve said, as if he sensed her concern. “Who else was wherever you were with him?”

“A boy. His son, I think? He had a suit like Tony’s, but…”

“With a spider on it.”

“…Yes.”

“I know him. And?”

“A man who had possession of the time stone. A sorcerer supreme, by the look of it,” she said, having experience with the likes of sorcerers. A ridiculous lot of windbags, if you asked her.

“Stephen Strange,” a shorter man interjected as they walked into a well-stocked but empty medical room.

“Bruce Banner,” he said awkwardly, taking in the aliens before him.

“Nebula. This is Kraglin and Rocket,” she said, her eyes darting to where Tony was asleep, his wound almost nearly gone. “Nanotechnology?” she asked.

The Queen girl brightened. “Yes! You have experience with it?”

“Not a lot, but I’ve seen it. You have a good command of it,” she forced herself to say, trying to find her kindness. A child.

‘There are little girls like you all over the galaxy who are in danger. You can help them,’ she heard her sister say to her, so long ago.

Thanos wouldn’t hurt this little girl or anymore little girls, not again. Nebula would not fail this time.

“If we were to retaliate against Thanos –” Steve started, once he was sure he was not going to interrupt the little queen. “What sort of manpower could we get from…space.” He said that awkwardly, as if the whole concept was utterly foreign to him.

“Most developed planets have military forces, especially those that are spacefaring,” Rocket interjected, sparing her the need to keep talking. “Some under the umbrella of the Nova Empire, or the Kree. Some just independent bodies like the Sovereign.”

“We can’t actually count on the Kree,” Kraglin objected in disgust. Yondu Udonta had instilled an instinctive mistrust of the Kree in this one, at least.

“No, Ronan sided with Thanos once, not on the trust list,” Rocket agreed. “Point being, if we got a message out, at least some of the planets in might respond,” he said. “Nova would.” He was clearly struggling to think of another formidable enough army.

“One problem,” Nebula interjected. “Thanos has won, in his mind. He did what he wanted to accomplish. But if the military might of every advanced planet started concentrating in one spot, he would wipe us out again. Another fifty percent or more in retaliation,” she said.

Tony was waking up. “God that stings.”

Steve put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Stay still. You’re still hurt,” he said. “Okay, so no way to gather the militaries… Maybe if they all parked in strategic locations and gathered on a signal?” he said.

“Do you know exactly how big space is, handsome guy?” Rocket asked snidely.

“I know it’s big, but all of this magic and space travel…there’s gotta be a way…” He looked earnestly lost.

Kraglin met Nebula’s eye, as if asking her permission to speak. She gave him the subtlest of nods.

“Might have an idea,” he said.

“Oh, Creedence Clearwater Revival’s got an idea!” Tony muttered deliriously.

“I’ll kill you if that was insulting,” Nebula said, though she hardly meant it.

“Nah it’s a good band, I’ll show you…” he mumbled.

“Right. Kraglin, the idea?” Steve Rogers said, hitching his thumbs in his belt and trying to mask his frustration and fatigue.

“Nebula’s right. Amassin’ a space army in the orbit of a primitive planet would draw attention. Lots of it. But…say…a few Ravager fleets went from planet to planet and then stopped by Terra?” he asked. “He wouldn’t think shit of that. Just that they were lootin’, maybe.”

“What are Ravagers, precisely?”

“Space pirates,” Rocket said. “Bounty hunters. General unsavory folks. Us.”

“So we put our faith in a bunch of pirates to smuggle what’s left of the galactic military might to Earth?” Steve Rogers asked, obviously not liking that plan. “It’s what we got. Can you call them?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. If they’re alive to answer.”

Chapter Text

“Where were you?” she finally asks, in the room they had opted to share with Rocket (there was plenty of space for each of them to have their own, but none of them seemed willing to risk the loneliness). They were sitting on her bed, he was eating something and idly tightening circuits in her arm.

“Contraxia some, then when I heard about Xandar…” He paused.

She didn’t press for more and he didn’t offer more, instead turning a screw sharply, her hand twitching.

“You shoulda let me steal you that new one,” he said. “This has to hurt.”

It did hurt. She wanted it to hurt. She had failed to kill Thanos and her sister had paid with her life. For that, she deserved the pain. “It functions fine, I don’t need a new one,” she said dismissively.

Rocket had been spending a lot of time with Thor. The time he wasn’t morosely staring out into space was spent in the company of the Asgardian. All the survivors of the war were in various states of despair, so Nebula had not been forced to make the acquaintance of the strangers milling around.

It had been nice.

The fox knocked briefly. “Y’all decent?” he asked. He liked to joke that he was going to walk in on Kraglin and Nebula in some kind of compromising position, even though he very well knew it wasn’t like that at all. He never actually waited for an answer before he entered.

“You should talk to the Queen kid, she made an arm for handsome guy’s friend that was badass.”

“I’m fine like this,” she gritted out, wishing people would just stop focusing on her parts and how they could be fixed. They didn’t need to be badass, whatever that meant, they just needed to move her body until she killed Thanos.

He made a noise and turned to the gun he had been modifying.

The beads that the Wakandans had given them started glowing.

“We have something entering the atmosphere,” the General, Okoye, told them in her holographic form. “We believe it is…ah…whoever you called?” she said.

“We’ll come down right away, General,” Rocket said, the respect in his voice sounding forced. He was afraid of the General, Nebula realized. She was supposedly the most fearsome warrior in the nation and everyone treated her as such, except the little queen, who treated her as a trusted older sister.

Kraglin fumbled for his jacket, wiping crumbs on his pants before he checked himself in a mirror briefly. He altered nothing about his appearance, but much like Quill, he had inherited a peculiar sort of vanity from Yondu.

He had abandoned the jumpsuit for the jacket and pants combination that Peter had favored. Maybe it was a formality. She had never actually met or interacted with Stakar Ogord, and other than the briefest of conversations when they had requested his presence on Terra, very little of his arrival had been discussed.

They had asked for him to come, and now he was here.

They walked together, Thor falling in step next to Rocket and Tony next to her, all of them flanking Kraglin, who had warned them prematurely that Stakar was unlikely to speak to anyone other than him initially, regardless of their position of authority.

“So what’s this guy’s deal?” Tony asked her. She supposed that he saw them as friends now, after Titan, and she didn’t have the energy to dissuade him.

“He’s the leader of the Ravagers. There are almost a hundred factions, including the Guardians of the Galaxy, and all of them defer to him,” she said tersely. Gamora would’ve argued that they weren’t really Ravagers, but that was what they were. Peter had inherited a Ravager ship and clan from his dead dad, and now he was a Ravager Captain.

“You’ll like him,” Rocket said. “He’s a complete nerd.”

Kraglin made a ‘tch’ noise in his throat at Rocket, but said nothing about the perceived insult.

“That big of a deal, Slingblade?” he asked.

Kraglin’s penchant for saying very little had not endeared him to Tony, who seemed to work through grief by filling his vicinity with noise, while Kraglin’s own grief was silence. “Yeah,” was the response he got for the poking.

The M ship landed in the field outside of the city where the ashes of the battle still swirling around. The huge mechanisms that the Outriders had been housed in had been carefully disassembled by Shuri’s scientists. It would give them nothing, but they were enjoying the new tech.

It stayed silent for a moment before the doors finally swung down and Stakar Ogord stepped out into the Wakandan sunlight.

“Why are all of you aliens so damn tall?” Tony asked no one in particularly, clearly insecure about being short.

Kraglin saluted Ogord in Ravager fashion. Nebula and Rocket both followed suit, but the Terrans did not.

“Good to see you’re alive,” Stakar said, returning the salute and then closing the distance between them for a quick, bone-crushing hug. He looked around and his face fell as he studied the group who had come to greet him. “So it’s true. Yondu’s boy --?”

“All of them.”

“Even the baby?” Stakar asked, his voice dropping again.

Rocket nodded.

“Shit’s dire, sir,” Kraglin said by way of agreement. “Is Aleta --?”

“Alive. We lost Martinex, but high command is intact.” Nebula knew Martinex was like a son to Stakar – had been like a brother to Yondu – so the loss was keenly felt among them. There was a tense, long pause.

“We should go inside and discuss,” Rocket said.

Tony stepped in to fill a gap in their huddle. “Really, is being tall like…an alien thing?”

Stakar regarded Tony, but didn’t say anything. At that moment, Charlie-27 exited the M-craft, and Tony groaned.

“That one was a freebie,” Kraglin told him with a somewhat malevolent grin as the seven-foot-plus giant joined them.

“I should’ve brought a suit,” he said, but Nebula had noticed that Tony had avoided his suit since they’d left Titan. Even for repairs and things where she imagined such an invention being handy, he had deferred to his friend Banner instead.

Inside the palace, the formalities began.

“King Thor of Asgard. Queen Shuri of Wakanda. Dr. Bruce Banner…” And on down the list, the handful of survivors all being acknowledged by the Ravager high command.

“We are so glad to have you with us,” Queen Shuri said graciously, though her sincerity was somewhat forced. “I can detail the plan for you, though I admit I only managed to tap into Nova records yesterday morning and so my knowledge of galactic politics is a little lacking,” she said.

“You hacked Nova records?” Rocket asked, obviously impressed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said with a shrug. “You mugshot is so bad, I think I want to put it on a t-shirt,” she added with a giggle.

“I’d buy that,” Kraglin said, and Kraglin had never bought anything in his life, so that was pretty high praise.

“Well, I’d love to hear your plan regardless, your Highness,” Stakar said. It was clear that he understood that this was a girl trying her best, and he was not going to be discouraging. Nebula guessed the hundreds of years he had lived had given him a lot of wisdom in that regard.

“Well, Nova Corps tends not to engage in outright warfare unless absolutely provoked,” she said. “It’s why the Kree spent so long picking them off before they retaliated initially, and then the conflict dragged on – but I feel like, whoever is installed as Nova Prime will view this as an absolute provocation.”

She really had done her studying. The depths of the child queen’s intelligence were almost unfathomable to Nebula.

“I thought you said you’ve only been studying this a day,” Charlie-27 said, exchanging a look with Stakar.

She smiled.

“Independent military bodies will be harder to rouse, likely afraid of leaving their already vulnerable populations undefended from potential hostilities from malevolent forces in the galaxy, like the Kree or the Skrull or the Rav –” She stopped herself short. “Well I guess that last one won’t be much of a problem!”

Kraglin looked anxious until Stakar laughed.

“No, I don’t think we have looting in mind at the moment,” he said.

“So the idea is that we will make contact with as many militarized planets as possible and ask for their assistance. It’s voluntary. Anyone who agrees, your fleet ships will pick up and bring to Earth for a planned counterassault on Thanos.”

“Shouldn’t we take the fight to him?”

“A smaller force will be luring him back to Terra,” Rocket said, though that was the most contentious part of the plan. Nebula wanted to go alone, and Rocket and Kraglin would hear nothing of it.

“All of this is only upon your agreement, however, Admiral,” Shuri added hastily, knowing that this was not a man she could give any orders to.

“We agree to it,” he said immediately, his arms crossed over his chest. “We’ll call the colors when we return to the galleys, and I’ll go speak with Nova Prime,” he said. Then he turned and looked at Thor. “I suppose your father’s dead, boy?”

“Yes. You know, he told me stories about you,” he said.

“We made each other’s acquaintance a few times when I was a younger man,” he said with a chuckle. Meaning, Stakar had attempted to rob the king of Asgard and probably gotten thoroughly beaten for it.

“Unfortunately, Asgard is gone. Our survivors are here in Wakanda.”

Stakar looked grim. “I can’t tell you how old I am, but I can say that I’ve never seen anything like this in all my centuries.”

“None of us have,” Thor agreed. “That’s why we must work together. New friends, old enemies, it hardly matters anymore.”

Nebula broke off from the group as they continued their strategy discussion, Rocket falling behind to join her. “What’s up, Blue?”

“I just…” Wanted to be alone? She didn’t, not really. “Don’t know what to do.”

“None of us do. All we got are people we want back.”

She thought of Gamora, and Mantis, and Groot, and even Drax and Quill. Everything that had been taken from them. It didn’t matter who made the plans, as long as she took Thanos’s head from his shoulders at the end of it.

“We’ll get them back.” Neither of them truly believed it.

Chapter Text

“This is your lab?” Nebula asked, looking at the sparse, bright room she had been summoned to. Shuri turned around from the holographs she was studying and nodded.

“Do you like it?”

Nebula nodded, Shuri beamed. “You wanted to see me?”

“I thought I could measure your prosthetics and make you something?” she asked. “You’re being helpful, I feel like I could –”

Of course, it was about this. Had Rocket put her up to it? Or Stark? Nebula had no use for repairs. Part of her simply did not want another person to know the extent of Thanos’s cruelty. Only Kraglin and Gamora had any idea what had truly happened, and if Kraglin told anyone he knew he’d die for it.

Shuri’s eyes were big and brown and hopeful. She had lost her brother and maybe, like the rest of them, she was looking for a way to fill the space he had been in.

“I suppose a measurement wouldn’t hurt,” she said begrudgingly.

“Tony said it looked like your leg was hurting you,” Shuri added as she powered up her little handheld device. “Is it?”

Everything was always hurting her, but she had no idea how to convey that. “I had to recalibrate it myself very quickly, that can be a problem.”

The beam of light washed gently over her as Shuri scanned her body, getting the data she needed. If the little queen was shocked by what she’d seen, she didn’t convey it, instead quietly highlighting Nebula’s arm, leg and eye.

“These I can improve,” she said. “Is that acceptable?”

“I suppose.”

Someone came up the stairs of the lab very loudly. General Okoye appeared, two of her fellow guards a few paces back.

“Shuri, we need to discuss…”

“I know what we need to discuss, General,” she said, frowning at her screens, avoiding the intense gaze Okoye was leveling at her.

Nebula shifted uncomfortable where she stood, unsure of whether to stay or go.

“You must take on the mantle of Black Panther with T’Challa…gone,” she said.

“I am not ready. Lord M’Baku is more qualified to take up the mantle, you more qualified still. You should take it,” Shuri said, her voice insistent, though this topic was clearly well-trodden for both of them.

“I am a Dora, not part of the royal family. I do not challenge for the throne and certainly do not take the heart-shaped herb,” Okoye said, stiffly.

Nebula still stood silently, hoping to fade into the background and not be party to anymore family squabbles.

“I apologize for dragging you into this, Miss Nebula,” Shuri mumbled, a little tearful. The expression on her face, the defeated slouch of her shoulders, it reminded Nebula so painfully of her sister.

She closed her eyes and then turned to Okoye. “What is this about?”

“In Wakanda, the King or Queen is also the protector of our country. There is an herb that grows here that grants certain abilities when consumed. This has been the duty of the royal family since Wakanda’s founding. T’Challa is not here to be the Black Panther any longer, and that means the mantle must pass to Shuri.”

“But she doesn’t want to do it,” Nebula said.

Okoye’s face softened. “I know. I am not trying to force her. I only want her to be safe.”

“You can protect me,” Shuri said, looking far too young as she stood there, shame-faced. “You’re strong enough for both of us, Okoye.”

Okoye smiled. “I might be, but I would rest better knowing you had more than your technology to shield you,” she said, sounding more like a sister than a general for a moment.

Nebula relaxed. “You should do it.”

A fleeting expression of betrayal lit her eyes, but then resignation. “We only have two specimens of the herb left,” Shuri said. “Killmonger destroyed the garden. It could take ages for a new crop to take root…”

“These are excuses, Shuri,” Okoye said, not unkind.

“General, will you fetch Lord M’Baku for me?” Shuri asked, more queenly and less childish, something in her brilliant brain clearly working. “I am sorry for that,” she added to Nebula. “I just wanted to help you, not drag you into the minutae of Wakandan politics.”

Nebula, who had very little experience with either thing, only shrugged.

“If I become Black Panther, it feels like I am saying my brother will never come back,” she said, and that was something Nebula understood very intimately. “I’m just scared of that.”

“I know. I’m…my sister…” She couldn’t even say it. Had she become so soft? “Protecting yourself and your people isn’t going to do that. Don’t think of it that way. You should do it, so you’ll be safe.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough,” she confessed.

“I’ll protect you, then,” Nebula said.

--

Lord M’Baku was a giant of a man, armored and deep voiced.

“Lord M’Baku, this is Nebula,” Shuri said.

M’Baku acknowledged her with a jerk of his chin and she returned the gesture. He was scrutinizing her quietly, with a shrewd look in his eyes. She had fought bigger men and won, but there was little hostility to the way he carried himself. Shuri had said he was Wakanda’s second greatest warrior after Okoye, and Nebula trusted her judgment.

Any ally against Thanos would do.

“I summoned you here because the remaining council and the Dora are pressing for me to take the heart shaped herb and take up my brother’s mantle of Black Panther,” Shuri said. “And I have two specimens of the herb.”

“Go on.”

“I want you to take it as well,” she said.

“What.”

“I know it’s not tradition but…I’m still a child and my brother isn’t here to train me. I’m good with a blaster but was never much in a fist fight. I will need help, and Okoye won’t even hear it.”

“For good reason. It is foolish,” Okoye said.

“It can only be you, M’Baku. To protect Wakanda with me like T’Challa. Mother is gone, Nakia is a spy. You are a leader and a warrior and all I have left, please.”

Nebula would have fled this sentimentality ages ago if she hadn’t promised Shuri she would stay with her.

M’Baku made a low noise in his throat, his frustration evident. “I will do it. But when T’Challa gets back, he will be so angry at me.”

“I think he will be happy you are watching my back,” Shuri said.

--

Shuri wished Nebula could have stayed for the actual ceremony, but she knew how it was supposed to work, so they were alone in Zuri’s old temple, with what was left of his order. She was shivering despite the heat.

M’Baku was shirtless (as he often liked to be, the show-off), pacing around as the preparations were made.

“Lord M’Baku first.”

She watched him drink the potion down, turning her eyes to the bowl meant for her apprehensively. She could just spill it – right?

No.

She had to.

For T’Challa, and Bucky too. This would give her the same abilities of Captain Rogers and Bucky. She could avenge her friends, she would be stronger. She hadn’t been able to save Vision or her brother or her mother, but now…

She wanted to get it over with so she could return to her lab and make Nebula that arm. The extent of her cybernetics was haunting. The rough, unsophisticated way it merged with flesh was sickening. Someone had not taken any care with her body, and the idea of someone being so cruel was…

It was unfair.

--

M’Baku rose from the dirt in an unfamiliar place. Was it the plains of Wakanda? Or somewhere else entirely.

Panthers prowled through the purple-tinged trees and he felt unwelcome at the sight of them.

“A Jabari, here?” someone asked. He wheeled around, hoping for T’Challa and finding nothing but N’Jadaka.

“I thought this was the ancestral plane. Where are my ancestors?” he asked.

“I think this place is connected to the Black Panther,” was the only answer Killmonger could give. “So then why are you here?”

“Where’s T’Challa?”

“You tell me.” But he knew, then. M’Baku could tell that he knew.

“Gone. Dead.”

“And you’re the new Black Panther.”

“Not exactly,” he said. “Shuri…Shuri is. Where is she?”

“This isn’t somewhere that you meet other people, dude. It’s metaphysical or whatever weird magical shit is happening,” Killmonger said. “I’m sure she’s talking to her old man or brother.”

M’Baku hoped so. She hadn’t been sleeping, he wasn’t sure he’d seen her eating lately. All she did was work and talk with the Avengers about the counterattack. “Then why am I talking to you?”

“Maybe because neither of us really belong here. You really gonna protect Wakanda when they’ve never done anything for the Jabari?” he asked.

“You can’t politicize this in the afterlife, Erik,” M’Baku said, smiling at the scowling ghost in front of him. “I am going to protect Wakanda and Shuri while T’Challa is –”

“Dead.”

“Well, technically turned to dust by a man from outer space, so we’re not sure his actual condition as of right now,” he said jauntily, laughing at the confusion he had caused.

“I’m so glad I’m not out there dealing with this shit,” Erik said, and then M’Baku woke up.

--

“Did you see T’Challa?” Shuri asked as he caught his breath.

“No. I saw Killmonger,” he said.

“Why?”

“He said something about us not belonging, I wasn’t really listening…”

Shuri kind of laughed, but it was strained and hysterical.

--

Shuri saw familiar fields and the panthers that circled her felt like friends. She saw the flashes of her grandfather and great-grandmother and then…there he was.

“Baba!”

Embracing her father made all the worries of the material world melt away for a second. Even if she had been angry about Uncle N’Jobu and N’Jadaka and the lies and the secrecy, the love she felt for him in that moment overpowered her.

“But…I don’t understand…where is T’Challa?” she asked. That was how it worked. Your closest relative on the ancestral plane guided you. Maybe it was screwy for someone who hadn’t formally won a challenge day and wasn’t part of the family like M’Baku, but she should have seen her brother. She needed to see him.

“He is not here. What has happened?”

Tears finally spilling, she told him everything. Thanos, the dust, the loss of everyone…it came out of her in a torrent of words and sobs, and T’Chaka listened patiently, as he always had when Shuri had rambled.

She left out the part about M’Baku though. T’Chaka would not understand that progress.

“You will wear the responsibility well, even if you doubt yourself,” he said, his hand between her shoulders. “My child, you were born for this. Your brother was born for this. You are more prepared than you know.”

Shuri hugged him and squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go.

And then she woke up with a gasp, sand rolling off her flushed, sweaty skin.

--

“I didn’t see him,” Shuri said, apropos of nothing when she reunited with Nebula the evening after.

Nebula, eating a piece of fruit and watching the Wakandan sunset with barely concealed awe, frowned. “So?”

“Well, if you have a connection to the heart-shaped herb and die, you go to the ancestral plane. That’s what M’Baku said, since he didn’t see his own ancestors,” she said. Her eyes were bright and she was eating very quickly and speaking breathlessly fast. “But T’Challa wasn’t there.”

Nebula paused.

“I can’t figure out why.”

“I might be able to,” Nebula said. The bright color of the sky reminded her the stone her sister had died for. “They’re trapped in the soul stone.”

Chapter Text

Nebula dreamt of Gamora.

She did that often. She had nightmares of her sister pulling her apart bit by bit. More often, it was Thanos. Sometimes Gamora was there, too, dead or hurt or helping the monster who had ruined their lives.

But this…was different.

They were standing in a long pool, shadowed by mountains she could not quite see, the presence around them friendly but…angry. Sad. Lonely. Shapes prowled the edge of her vision and sometimes she thought she recognized one.

“Mantis?!” she asked, whipping around but only seeing a flash of green and black hair. “Groot? Drax? Quill? Are you here?”

Turning back to her sister, she tried to steady herself. “What is this place?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, and Gamora had never admitted to not knowing something, not since they were children. Ignorance was punishable, after all.

“Am I right? Is this…the soul stone?”

“Maybe…”

Nebula thought it might have been. “Do you think we can win?”

Gamora frowned, looking around at the shallow pool they were standing in. Ankle-deep, mirror-smooth and shining, it spread out into an unknowable vastness. “There’s a way,” she said, still so maddeningly vague. “You can do it.”

She woke up and tried to ignore the tears drying on her cheeks.

--

“Do we have any proof of this?” Tony Stark asked as the heroes gathered to discuss this development.

“I had a dream about it,” Nebula offered, knowing it didn’t really count for much proof. “It’s not something we could count on, it’s just a possibility,” she continued. “If they’re trapped in the soul stone, it’s possible…maybe they could exert some influence over the stone if Thanos was sufficiently weakened.”

“The way Jane Foster wielded the Aether,” Thor said.

The aforementioned Jane Foster had landed in Wakanda just the day before, along with a handful of other surviving allies; a sorcerer monk, an ‘Ant-Man’ and a ‘Ghost’ whatever those were, as well as Tony’s strawberry haired lover and a dark-haired woman who was somehow related to the boy who had died on Titan.

“And the way Star-Lord wielded the Power stone,” she agreed.

“And Vision’s Mind Stone,” Bruce Banner said.

“So we agree that there are cases when mortals can use the stones, but we can’t know for sure that they can do that while inside of it, if that’s truly where they are,” Thor said.

“Though I suppose it stands to mention that Quill weren’t strictly mortal when he used the power stone,” Rocket said. “He was an immortal half-planet at the time.”

No one seemed to know how to interpret that.

“After we killed the planet, we’re not sure if the powers stuck around.” Rocket shrugged, he and Kraglin sharing a conspiratory look. They were clearly messing with the Earthers.

“Moving past that,” Tony said. “We obviously can’t make a plan on that.”

“Just like we can’t make a plan on the fact that Stephen Strange ominously told you that he only saw one outcome for victory and it apparently was the scenario we’re living out now.”

“I just gotta gut feeling, Cap. He sacrificed the Time Stone for me because it was the only way to win. Me coming back to the Avengers was the only way. Now…it’s just the other details we gotta work out.”

Tony was confident in his own narcissism, she had to give him that.

“The Captain is simply saying we can’t hedge our bets on the stones if we aren’t fully sure of these details,” Stakar Ogord interjected. His ships and men had departed but he had opted to stay, but there was no polite way to say that most of them didn’t trust the Ravagers if there wasn’t a little bit of human collateral. Luckily, he understood.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Rogers said. “The dead being trapped in the soul stone tells us we can bring them back, but we still have to get the gauntlet for that to matter. And with the space and power stones at his disposal, that will be tricky.”

“So we find a way to destroy those two, and perhaps the Time stone as well. The mind stone can restore Vision and the soul stone can do the rest,” Banner said, cottoning on to his friend’s line of thinking. “There’s just a matter of…only Wanda had any luck destroying the Mind Stone. What if she’s the only one who can destroy them?”

Steve shook his head.

Nebula left the meeting after that, tired of talking and thinking and justifying.

--

“I saw Shuri’s new prototype arm,” Tony said, joining her on a balcony overlooking the royal gardens, a bowl of something hot and fragrant in hand. “Want some?”

“Sure,” she said.

“You’ll like the new arm,” he said. “I’d offer to build you one but…” He raised the hand clutching his fork and it was trembling. “Haven’t stopped since we landed.”

“Do you need medical attention?” she asked, trying to hide her alarm.

“No. I mean…maybe…psychological…who knows? I was doing better, before. But…”

“How old was he?”

“Who?”

“Your son,” she said.

He choked on the bite he’d just taken. “Oh. Sixteen, I think. Maybe seventeen? He wasn’t…I mean…”

“Not your son?”

“Not not my son, though, I suppose. For all the good it did him.” He closed his eyes to the flowers that spread out beneath them.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right. I guess you and me are in a little club,” he said. “People who think the Infinity Stones are gonna be of some help to us,” he said. “People no one else believe.” He was smiling, but it wasn’t really happy.

“I’m used to it.”

Alarm bells began ringing on the communicators the Wakandans had provided them, flashing a red alert notification into the air.

General Okoye came on screen. “We have an unknown craft entering the atmosphere. Admiral Ogord claims it is not one of his allies,” she said.

Kraglin appeared at the door of the balcony, looking upward with a sharp, focused glare that was foreign to him. “It’s a Kree ship.”

“The Kree? Here?” she asked, getting up and setting her bowl aside.

A new voice came over the communicators, but it certainly wasn’t Kree.

“This is Captain Carol Danvers of the United States Air Force requesting permission to land,” someone called. “Nick Fury sent for me.”

“This is Captain Steve Rogers, Captain Danvers. Permission granted,” they heard Rogers respond, sounding exactly as baffled as they all felt.

Chapter Text

“Carol Danvers. Earth’s Mightiest Hero,” she said with a wry smile as she shook Rogers’ hand.

“You know, a guy we once knew called us that,” Tony snarked. “I guess he probably couldn’t think of anything better.”

“He wasn’t the creative type, no,” she agreed. “Is he here?”

“As far as we can ascertain, he’s dead,” Rogers said, his face somber. Carol Danvers grew grim.

“Do we have a plan?”

“Half of one.”

“Half is better than nothing,” she said. “Let’s hear it.”

“We have reason to believe that the Infinity Stones can restore what’s been done, Captain Danvers,” Thor said. “Our ploy is to lure the Titan out of his hiding and retrieve the Gauntlet. If it’s possible to destroy the stones, we shall.”

“How?”

“My friend Doctor Jane Foster has worked with dimensional portals before. We are creating a portal that can take us to Thanos,” he continued. “We can lure him out with that and when he’s here, we have a modest force to pin him down. I wounded him gravely even with all six stones, I believe that our combined powers could overtake him. You yourself seem very powerful.”

Nebula didn’t get a feeling that this woman was powerful. She wondered what the Asgardian sensed. To her, this looked like an ordinary Terran. A little short, even.

“And if he brings Outriders? The Chitauri? I know the Kree have worked with him before. I’m sure he’ll have Sakaaran foot soldiers.”

“Ronan and Korath are dead, I don’t believe the rest of the Kree empire will involve themselves,” she interjected.

Danvers looked at her shrewdly, with a nod. “But what allies do you have?”

“The Nova Corps,” Thor said. “The Ravagers. Somewhat tenuously, En Dwi Gast, the Grandmaster has agreed to lend us some aid. How much he can be trusted is unclear.”

She did not look inclined to trust the Grandmaster at all. “No one else?”

“No one else is willing to leave their planets undefended after such an event,” he agreed.

“It’s a plan, at least.” They began walking away in a cluster, but Nebula didn’t follow. Her beads were pinging, until a holographic image of Queen Shuri appeared, grinning broadly.

“You ready?”

Nebula was ready.

--

The prosthetics were beautiful. They weren’t dressed down, utilitarian chunks of metal. They were works of art. Shuri had put some of herself into this. It was almost too much. She wanted to refuse.

“Do you like the blue? I could dye it purple –” she said as Nebula examined the dark, cobalt blue arm, with silver and violet details rippling through it.

She fought back tears. “It’s fine.”

“We’ll do the leg first, it’ll be the hardest to adjust to,” she said, her expression brightening.

“Are you all right? After your – thing?” she asked. She didn’t know how to explain the weird ritual Shuri had described to her.

“Yes. I do understand why my brother was always so easily distracted, my senses are inputting so much more than usual,” she said. “Okoye wants to spar later, you should come.”

Nebula felt uneasy. She very rarely fought for training or for leisure. Thanos had thoroughly beaten any desire to do that out of her with his ceaseless torment. But this was different – a different place with different people.

“Maybe.”

The installation process hurt – but no more than her everyday existence did. When the leg was in, she found that a portion of her pain had been reduced somehow. The considerate, gentle way it was done was such a contrast to the past. She thought she would have been scared, but Shuri’s voice was in her ear and somehow, she felt better.

“We could do the arm tomorrow,” Shuri suggested.

“Today. I feel…fine. The eye too.”

--

She felt lighter than she had in twenty years. Her eye saw clearer than she had seen in twenty years.

Rocket was impressed. “Can I borrow it?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she said. They both snorted with laughter.

“Look’s cool,” Kraglin appraised. “Feel good?”

“Yeah,” she said.

It was an odd feeling. She had been wallowing in the misery of her barely functioning limbs as a way to push her rage towards Thanos. Now, she felt…

She felt like she had something to live for now. Not just rage to fight with. Like maybe Shuri would be disappointed if she died and her work was all for nothing.

“I’m going to go spar with the others.” The pair of them, mostly reliant on ranged weapons, didn’t feel the need to join her.

As she walked down the hall, Tony Stark fell into line next to her. “Nice new digs, GI Jane,” he said.

She nodded, because she wasn’t sure if that was a real compliment or not. “I’m going to go spar with Shuri,” she said.

“I think Nat went down there, too. Looks like a real girl brawl. Maybe I should take some bets.”

“Isn’t your wife here? That doesn’t sound appropriate for you to say.”

“She’s used to it.”

“Poor her,” she said, but they both smirked a little.

“Go easy on them in there. They’re just human.”

“I’m sure they can handle themselves.”

--

They could handle themselves, it turned out. The blonde assassin Natasha was not as disciplined or rigid as General Okoye, but they were evenly matched otherwise. Shuri was physically stronger than Nebula but had an adolescent ungainliness to her movements that Okoye was keen on working out.

Nebula and Natasha sparred to a stand-still, both dual wielding the electric batons that the human favored. Nebula wasn’t using her swords for a practice fight.

The vibranium arm was light and intuitive. She was fighting better than she ever had.

She and Okoye were similarly evenly matched, though she was willing to take a free and clear cheap shot that Okoye had ignored, eliciting a good-humored groan of protest. “You space pirates! So dishonorable!”

They laughed, but they weren’t making fun of Nebula, simply enjoying their time together.

“Can I join?” someone asked. Captain Danvers had entered the training room, changed from the spangled uniform to something a little more athletic and comfortable.

“I don’t think we’ve got a chance against you, Cap,” Natasha said.

“I’ll try it out,” Nebula said. She wasn’t sure what kind of thing Danvers was, but she wasn’t about to back down from a fight; friendly spar or not.

They circled each other, and Danvers leapt into an attack faster than most anyone could see. Nebula saw, though, but only fast enough to raise her arm to deflect a punch that had the weight of a warship behind it. A blast of bright light vibrated between them, and she used all of her strength to take the captain to the mat.

Her legs were swept out from under her as quickly as she could right herself, and Nebula found herself pinned almost as fast as the match had started.

Even though she knew that this wasn’t a real fight, and Thanos wasn’t there to see her lose, she still felt the familiar, animalistic panic deep in her chest. Carol seemed to register it, quickly helping Nebula to her feet.

“That punch has killed people before, you know,” she said, conversationally drawing Nebula out of the flash of fear. “You didn’t even flinch.”

“I’ve survived a lot of things that had killed normal people.”

“And I think you’ll survive more,” Okoye said. “No one will judge you for not being the strongest in the universe. Let’s go see what they’re serving for dinner.”

Chapter Text

As the scientists worked on their magic portals and they dissected and stitched together plan after plan, Nebula had begun to grow impatient. She wasn’t the only one, either.

“We need to move on Thanos as soon as we’re able,” Tony declared. “We can’t drag it out.”

“We need to be cautious.”

“He’ll see us coming if we wait too much longer,” Tony’s friend, Rhodes, said.

Nebula was sitting just a few seats down from them, flanked by Rocket and Kraglin. Thor sat behind her with his Valkyrie and his rock friend, Korg. Rocket stole looks at him every so often, looking insecure. Thor’s scientist friend, Jane, was tiny and physically feeble, but may have been one of the most brilliant minds in the room, second to Shuri.

Nebula liked Terra. The women it produced were powerful and uncompromising in their strength, the way Gamora had been.

“Look, I know there’s a lot of stuff to consider,” the one they called Ant-Man interrupted. He’d spoken very little during this ordeal. He’d come to Wakanda haunted and afraid. She didn’t know what had happened to him. “But if we don’t get Hank Pym and Dr. Van Dyne back soon, Ava will die.”

He was speaking of his friend the Ghost, standing behind him being clung to by a little girl. She didn’t break grip when Ava disappeared from existence and snapped back. “I got you, Ava,” she said.

The tragedy of it passed over the room unremarked upon.

“What is it we’re waiting for, Captain?” Natasha asked, pale and tired.

“Vision.”

Hawkeye shook his head. “Vision’s dead.”

“Vision’s stone was taken. His body can be rebuilt. His consciousness can be put back into it. Queen Shuri is helping Dr. Banner and Tony rebuild him. When Thanos comes for us, I want to be able to take the Mind Stone and return it to Vision. That way, if the stones can’t be destroyed, at least one can be safe.”

Nebula couldn’t make ends meet of that.

“He’ll be ready by tomorrow,” Shuri assured them, Tony nodding in agreement.

--

That night, Nebula tried to sleep, but she couldn’t. They all had their own beds within the room the three Guardians shared, but there were many nights where they all piled in on top of Kraglin. Never acknowledging the loneliness or fear that drove them to huddle for warmth and contact, but doing it anyway.

She woke up alone.

Rocket was tinkering in the corner. Their eyes met.

“He’s outside,” was all he said.

Kraglin was indeed sitting outside, red streaked arrow hovering around his head. He wasn’t whistling at the moment, but she had learned it wasn’t a logical little contraption. Sometimes it worked just by thought. Or maybe that’s how it worked all the time, and the whistle just focused it.

“When Yondu died, I thought that was the worst it’d ever be,” he said. “Never thought something’d top it five times over.”

Over the years, they’d found a commonality in their upbringing that had helped them get along. They both knew what it was like to feel passed over. And now they were both the last one left of their entire families.

She missed them. All of them. She had always acted like she couldn’t have cared less, but really… she wanted to hear Drax’s stupid laugh and the beeping of Groot’s game. She wanted her sister’s hand on her shoulder and Mantis’s calming, comfortable presence.

She wanted Rocket to pull a stupid prank on Quill again that made all of them laugh at his expense.

The sort of loneliness Thanos had created even made her miss Udonta a little, too. He knew what it meant to be a father, even a shitty one.

When the black, star-studded night sky was plunged into a deep red, her heart sank.

“What’s happening?”

“This is what my dream looked like,” she said, standing up and putting her arm out, blocking him from stepping forward.

Gamora was there. Only, she wasn’t really there.

There were shouts from the palace. Everyone was seeing this.

“Are you ready?” her sister asked her.

“Are you?”

Gamora nodded. “We’re all ready.”

“I won’t make you wait much longer, sister.”

--

“What was that?” Lord M’Baku demanded.

“The soul stone,” Nebula said, loudly over the din of people arguing and recounting what or who they had seen during the few moments she had been able to act. “My sister has control of it now. It’s time to act. And act quickly.”

Captain Rogers and Captain Danvers exchanged serious looks. Admiral Ogord nodded to Queen Shuri, who stood on a chair, so that she might tower over the literal gods and giants among her.

“The portals are ready and locked onto the signature that the soul stone had created. That should lead you straight to the gauntlet and Thanos, right?” she asked, not pausing for an answer. “We’ll go now. By the time he and his armies appear, all will be ready. We’ll be ready.”

“Then let’s go.”

“I think I should go,” Danvers said. “I think I’m at the least risk of being hurt.”

“I’m going,” Nebula said. “He’s my father. He killed my family. I’m going to face him when he dies.”

Carol considered this, eyebrows furrowed. “Then let’s go.” She grinned, the way you were supposed to grin before battle.

“Follow me, ladies.”

Jane Foster tried to explain the technical details of the portal machine to her, but she was only half listening. The tall man who called himself Ghost’s father was helping, enthusiastic about the technology. It was odd, how this horrifying tragedy had brought so many different sorts of people together.

The circular machine sprang to life in a yelp of glowing machines and whirring parts.

“I’m comin’ with you,” someone said behind Nebula, and she turned to find Kraglin at her shoulder. “Don’t argue it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“None of us do.”

The portal opened, a lush green terrace visible through the glowing circle.

Danvers stepped in first, Nebula following, with Kraglin and Rocket behind her.

He was there as fast as blinking, and she didn’t feel the primal, instinctive fear she usually felt. She was among friends. Her sister would protect her, like she’d died to do.

“Nebula. And you brought company. Come to kill me?” he asked, raising his ruined arm. The cracked and rusted gauntlet looked fused to his skin. The whole image was horrifying in a way she couldn’t fully describe.

“Saving it for later.”

She drew her sword. Carol’s fists were glowing with undefinable power.

“Come to Terra. Meet your death in an honorable battle. Before Gamora swallows you with that stone.” She pointed to the Soul Stone. The way he glanced down at it, she knew that he had experienced what she was speaking of. “You’re no longer fully in control of the gauntlet. You can give it up now, or you and your armies can try to stop us when we come for it.”

There was an eerie purple glow to his gaze.

“If you want war, daughter, you’ll get it.” They held each other’s eye for a long moment. “It’s funny. How much you try to be your sister. Even down to running about with a Ravager.”

Pointing her blade at him, she didn’t rise to the bait this time. When she had been young and lonely and full of vengeful rage, she thought that maybe her anger would make him see how worthy she was. She was the weapon he had wanted, not Gamora.

Now she had people to save, and his taunting didn’t matter.

“Come to Terra or we’ll drag you there by force,” she said.

Chapter Text

 They returned to Terra, their band of misfit heroes anxiously waiting for their return.  

Chapter Text

She had never really been thanked before. Maybe one of the Guardians had once or twice, but in the days that followed Thanos’s defeat, as Shuri repaired the damage her arm had sustained from the wielding of the soul stone, there was a constant bevy of people thanking her, and Gamora, who sat in the medical bed next to her, uninjured but refusing to leave.

Captain Danvers and Captain Rogers were formal, but relieved. Rogers’ one-armed friend came to compare their prosthetics, promising an arm wrestling match when they were both at one hundred percent.

The return of his lost people had Thor effusive with gratitude, strong-arming a hug from her.

“Your brother --?” she asked.

“He died before Thanos completed the gauntlet. I don’t believe I’ll see him for many years, now,” he said quietly. But everyone noticed that he was wary of anything green.

Ant-Man and his whole odd, loud family burst in on her one day to thank her.

She could tolerate the adulation from these seasoned heroes. They were gruff or brief with their gratitude. Nebula took it stoically. She hadn’t done it for them, their thanks felt misplaced. All she had wanted was her revenge, and her sister.

Groot shuffled in, his game at his side. He watched Shuri with apprehension as she worked. They were about the same age, and Nebula wasn’t sure Groot had ever been around another child.

“I am Groot?” he asked, looking to Gamora.

“Everyone’s okay,” she answered.

Tentatively, he stepped over, leaning forward and wrapping his spindly arms around Nebula. Hugs were still so beyond her experiences that she froze as he pulled back quickly. “I am Groot,” he said.

Thanks for saving us, Nebula.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she managed, her throat tight.

The hardest thank you to accept was the little girl, though. She was Ant-Man’s daughter. Tiny. Nebula had no idea how Terrans aged, but this one was especially young. One night, after everyone had fallen asleep, except Nebula, who was staring into the distance, thinking about this strange planet, she came to the lab. She was careful of Shuri’s security precautions, which made Nebula think perhaps she had help from someone bigger than her.

“Hi, Miss Nebula?” she asked, round face apprehensive.

“Uh. Hi.”

“I’m Cassie,” she said, inviting herself to sit on the bed next to this alien warrior she’d never spoken to before. She was bold, Nebula had to give her that. “Ant-Man’s daughter. And future sidekick.”

“Really?”

“Well, he says no. But I know when I’m bigger, I’ll be a hero just like him and Hope.”

Hope, she had met, was a scientist who had come back and was part of Ant-Man’s weird group (the eldest in the group kept trying to start fights with Tony, which was amusing in its own right), and called herself the Wasp.

She didn’t know how to talk to children, so she listened.

“I wanted to say thank you,” she said. “You brought back Hope and Dr. Pym and Dr. Van Dyne and my stepdad too.” Had she really lost so many members of her family in one instant? And she was still smiling up at her, gap-toothed and giddy.

“Your father already thanked me.”

“I know. But my mom says I should thank people when they help me.”

“Your mom sounds smart.”

“And you saved Ghost.”

That explained how easily she got into the room. She saw the Ghost lingering in the doorway in her eerie white suit.

“I didn’t do anything –” Ghost’s tall father and Dr. Van Dyne had done the procedure to save Ghost as she had begun to deteriorate in the days they had waited for Thanos.

“If Janet and Hank hadn’t come back, she would have died. They came back because you saved us, right? So you saved Ghost.” She spoke in a tone that brokered no argument, all the surety of a child.

Tears were stinging her eye.

“I’m glad you killed your dad. He seemed like a bad dad,” she added, patting her on the knee. “I have two, if you ever need to borrow one.”

Nebula laughed in spite of herself, and let the little girl hug her tightly. “You’re super cool,” Cassie whispered up at her. “I wanna be like you when I’m big.”

She had never heard anything like that, ever, in her entire life.

Cassie and Ghost left as quietly as they had entered, leaving Nebula alone with barely held back tears and too many thoughts.

“It’s too much,” she said to herself.

“It’s what you deserve,” Gamora said quietly from the bed next to her.

It was something she had heard Thanos say before, but now it was different.

--

The next morning she left Shuri’s lab, the little princess (who had very quickly relinquished both her title as Queen and the abilities of the Black Panther upon the return of her handsome, kingly brother) satisfied that she hadn’t sustained too much damage.

Everyone was still in Wakanda for the time being, a one-eyed man in all black and several people in suits constantly on the phone with people who sounded overly important as they tried to assess the damage the world may have suffered.

The Guardians had a spot for her at a secluded table, a bowl of whatever they were eating at breakfast waiting.

Lord M’Baku walked by. “You aliens are quite the warriors,” he said. “It is an honor to have you among us.”

“Thank you,” Gamora said, looking a little flustered, much to Quill’s vocal dissatisfaction.

“First Thor,” he muttered.

“There are many beautiful men in this place, Quill, don’t feel too saddened,” Drax said, patting his friend on the shoulder.

Nebula joined in on the light teasing of Star-Lord, something warm and encouraging about how mundane it was. When Princess Shuri walked by, greeting them all, Groot abandoned the table to join her. The Spider-Boy was waiting in the distance.

“Looks like we might have to stick around a little longer,” Quill said. “He probably needs friends his own age.”

“I never had friends until I was grown and look at how I turned out!” Rocket said.

“Yeah, we definitely need to stay,” Kraglin said solemnly.

And for once, there was nothing looming over them, because Thanos was dead. The Mind Stone was safely with a red android called Vision (who had stutteringly thanked her the day before, the powerful redheaded witch at his side), and the power and space stones had been shattered by Stormbreaker.

The Soul Stone remained with Gamora, though she didn’t say where she had hidden it.

Nebula had never thought of what her life could be without the need to kill her father driving her forward. She had time, though, and a family to help her figure it out.