Blue Sky Blues
Even now, Peter Quill, Star-Lord, and leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy, was still an idiot.
Nebula supposed it was too much to hope for that the simpleton might have had some sense knocked into him. She'd seen the idiot he'd been on Morag when he'd gone after the power stone. He'd been slightly less of an idiot after defeating Ego. From what she'd heard, he'd been an idiot on Titan when after hearing of Gamora's death, he'd botched the whole plan, and indirectly sentenced half of all life to die, including himself. So now, after being wished back to life by the Infinity Gauntlet (or as Rocket called it, the Risen Mitten), she'd figured that maybe, just maybe, Peter Quill would have lost some of his brain cells after Yondu dropped him on his head one too many times.
But instead, that hadn't happened. What had happened was that they'd come to 0269-S. What was happening now was that he was figuratively dancing on Thanos's grave, and if he moved a few steps to the right, would be literally dancing on it as well. Which would have been bearable, if he wasn't listening to that forsaken device plugged into his ear and singing asinine rhymes.
"Hey there, Mister Blue! We're so pleased to be with you!"
Nebula sighed. I could kill him. I could dump his corpse and no-one would have to know.
"Look around see what you do!"
The asgardian wants to be leader anyway, and it's not as if any of these other imbeciles are stepping up to be leader.
"Hey, there, Mister Blue!"
"Quill." Nebula walked over to the human.
"We're so pleased to be with you!"
"Quill!" She picked up the pace.
"Look around, see what you-"
"Quill, for once in your life, be quiet!"
She yanked the device from his hands, and in doing so, the buds out of his ears.
"Hey, what the hell?!"
Nebula dangled the device in front of him. "Is this device important to you Peter?"
"Um…"
"If I were to crush it, compress it down to its base atoms, would your tears flow across Creation like solar waves?"
"Um, kinky as it is that you've got the whole wiser than thou thing to a fine art, you can't pull it off as well as-"
Nebula squeezed the device known as a Zune.
"Okay, okay!" Peter held out his hand, the palm facing up as if praying. "I need that."
"Need it?" Nebula whispered.
"Yeah, like, y'know how you need to be all psychotic?"
"Excuse me?"
"I need the music."
Nebula, scowling, handed it back. "Here is your music Peter. I assume it's contributing to your insanity, but if that is the path you wish to take…"
"Babe, trust me, the music is the one thing keeping me sane." He winked at her as he began fiddling with the device.
"Do not call me babe. I am not a babe."
"Honey, please, you seen yourself in the mirror lately? You're totally a-"
Nebula grabbed him by the neck and squeezed.
"Okay, okay!" Peter rasped. "You're not a babe! You're tall, blue and ugly."
"And lethal," Nebula hissed.
"And lethal," Peter choked.
For the first time since the Battle of Earth, Nebula smiled. Potentially the first time in years, but while people like Peter Quill were proof that there some species in existence that were from inferior genetic stock, it was a reminder that everyone had a purpose in this universe. Including…She turned away and looked back at the grave she'd dug.
You fulfilled your purpose father. The smile turned into a frown. Such a shame that it was all for nothing.
A shame for him, not a shame for her. And yet-
"Start singing again Quill, and I'll rip your ears out."
"How'd you know?"
She tapped her head, still not looking at him.
"Right, crazy girl. Got it."
Nebula returned to look at her father's grave. It was a hundred metres away from the home he had briefly created for himself before it was destroyed by the Avengers. No marking or inscription, nothing to signify that the universe's worse mass murderer had even been here aside from his armour mounted on a cross.
Thing was, she hadn't even planned this. When they'd left Earth searching her sister, 0269-S had been the first point of call – maybe Gamora had gone there in search of her 'father.' There was no sign of her to be found though, but touching down in the same space the Avengers had five years ago, they'd found her father's body. Still missing a head, but otherwise not having experienced much decomposition. Maybe it was his physiology, maybe the pathogens of this world didn't recognise him as a living thing in the same way. Whatever the case, he was there. And in a moment of madness that still confused her, she'd requested the right to bury him.
It hadn't gone down well. Thor, with a look of dismay that Nebula had only seen in the most wretched of the galaxy, had walked back to the ship and refused to come out. The other Guardians weren't so distraught, but they'd refused to take any part in it. Groot, for his part, had dragged the titan's body and made a hole in the ground, but after saying "I am Groot," made it clear that that was all he was going to do. So not only did Nebula have to get the murderer's body into the grave, but also fill it up. That had taken her hours to do, and the last hour hadn't been made any easier when Peter Quill had come her way, singing like an idiot.
"So…"
She groaned, as the human walked over.
"Are we, like, done?" Peter asked. He walked over – his earbuds were out, but Nebula could see that the damage to his brain cells had yet to be recovered. "You said your piece?"
"Said my what?"
"Said your piece. Like, final message to daddy dearest and all that."
"He is dead Quill. He will not hear me."
"Yeah, but, it's more for you."
Nebula scoffed.
"Hey, I'm just asking. I've had daddy issues as well, and trust me, it can be hard…" He sniffed. "It can be hard to get over them."
"Peter…are you crying?" Nebula asked.
"No." He wiped something aside. "It's allergies."
"Allergies," she said blankly.
"Yeah. Allergies. World's got enough flowers for that." He smiled in the way that had somehow inspired her sister to fall for the raving loon. "But, yeah. Words." He gestured to the grave. "Like, I get that my daddy issues aren't as bad as your daddy issues, but..." He trailed off and shrugged.
"You are a strange man, Peter Quill."
He shrugged.
"But very well. I shall take my piece."
"Yeah." He backed away a few steps and gave her two thumbs up. "You go girl."
Why are you even here Quill? She put that question on the backburner and turned back to her father's grave. Not her real father of course, but the only figure that she'd ever known that had even come close to that.
"Hello. Father," she said. She looked at Peter, who made a motion with her hands that said "keep going."
"I don't suppose you can hear me now. I don't suppose you can hear anything. Decapitation does that to a person I suppose."
There was no sound from the grave. As the sun set upon 0269-S, there were no sounds anywhere.
"Burying you is more than you deserve," Nebula whispered. "For when you balanced the hundreds of worlds you conquered, did you give any consideration for the dead? Did you acknowledge their rites? Did you give comfort to the living? When husbands wept for their wives, when brothers cried out for their sisters…" She took a breath. "Did you even listen?!"
He hadn't. She knew that. But in this moment, it felt like the whole world was listening.
"I want you to know something, father, if you can hear me," Nebula whispered. "And it's that you failed. Your army's gone. Everyone…almost everyone, that you took away…they have returned. You're not a hero. The universe will forget you. Your counterpart from the past will be better remembered than you are, and he was reduced to dust." Her breathing began to pick up, but she managed to steady it. "I've beaten you father. And I don't mourn you. I hate you. I've always hated you. I'm not going to say anything comforting for either of us, because you never said anything yourself. So even though I've come here for my sister, even though I've buried you, I…I…" She took out a blade from her belt, and with a speed that surprised even herself, she fell down to the ground and began stabbing the dirt.
"I hate you!" she screamed. "I hate you!"
The world was still listening to the cries of the Mad Titan's daughter.
"Nebula…"
No more words escaped her lips, though they continued to move as she screamed. As she brought her blade down and down again into the dirt. The blade never touched the titan's flesh, but in her mind's eye, she could see him. Every blow. Every drop of blood. Every scar, every mutilation that he had inflicted upon her was returned a hundred fold.
"Nebula!"
She looked back at Peter, her eyes as wide as a wild animal, and her breathing as deep as the last gasp of the universe. The human, for his part, had his left hand on one of his pistols, and his right hand out to her.
"It's okay," he whispered.
"It…it's not okay," she whispered.
"It is. He's gone. You're still here." He gestured around, the setting sun casting a long shadow from where they stood. "We're still here."
Slowly, ever so slowly, Nebula reached out to take the idiot's hand. Just as slowly, he helped her to her feet.
"Do not touch me," she hissed.
That went a bit quicker. He obliged though, muttering something about crazy ladies. But she barely noticed. Her gaze was back on the grave. On the dirt she had disturbed.
"Farewell, father," she said. "For this is my last goodbye, and I will not suffer being in your presence any further." She looked back to Peter. "Well?" She asked.
"Um…"
"Have I said my piece correctly?"
"Um. Yeah. Sure. Ten out of ten."
For the second time that day, she smiled.
"Or a nine. Or an eight. Seven if I'm being accurate."
She raised her blade towards his throat.
"But considering that you didn't have time to study due to family matters, I think the bonus points can get you up to a nine."
Still smiling, she gestured to the grave. "Say your piece," shewhispered.
He blinked at her. "Say my what?"
"Your piece. You are the only one here, and I figure my dear departed father would appreciate listening to one that he briefly erased from this universe."
"Um, you do know that he can't hear us right?"
Nebula waved the blade at him.
"But hey, sure." He swaggered over to the grave. "Say my piece. Sure. Whatever. Hey, did anyone care when I was turned to dust? Nup. No. No respect. None at all."
Nebula let out a hiss and given how Peter glanced at her, she knew he'd got the message. Whatever the case though, he began to speak.
"Hey, Thanos," he said. "It's me. Peter Quill. Star-Lord. Leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy, despite what Thor says. Or Rocket. Or, well, a lot of people have forgotten how this outfit works."
Nebula didn't know much about saying pieces (she knew more about being in pieces), but she didn't think this was how this was meant to go.
"So, like, no-one else is here except your…" He glanced at Nebula before looking back. "Daughter, and the guy who might have married your other daughter. Though, considering who'd have been my father in law, guess that's one little nightmare I won't have to deal with."
Nebula couldn't be sure, but she was detecting a bit of a warble in Quill's voice.
"Nightmares," the human said. He began to walk on top of the grave, stamping the dirt. "Still get them you know, thanks to Titan. Like, you know what it's like to screw up and have trillions die because of it?" He kicked some of the dirt aside. "Yeah, that's right. Just us. You can be a shrink. No-one else here for you, you murdering asshole."
The warble was increasing.
"I mean, the guy we faced on Earth was twice the man you were," Quill said. He knelt down and looked at the suit of armour. "Even kept his head. Like, Thor's an asshole, but he decapitated you with a single swing, so unlike you, he didn't go out like a little bitch." He sighed. "Course, there's the little matter that Gamora, like, my…our Gamora, isn't coming back, because there's a floating red guy that says that can't be done, and, like, Gamora two-point oh is running around, and we're looking for her, and I'm beginning to suspect she doesn't want to be found, and I mean, hey, why not? Like, I'm not the guy who met her on Xandar. I'm just the guy who got half the universe killed, and who failed…failed to save…save her…her…"
Nebula blinked. Was Peter crying? He was certainly sniffing at least and-
Oh hell.
The idiot was crying. Doing his best to hide it mind you, but still, crying. For Nebula knew the sound, and over the course of her life, it had not just come from her own lips.
"Um…" She looked around. "Help?"
No-one was there. No-one heard her. None of the Guardians wanted to be closer to the body of her father than they had to be.
Of course. It just had to be me. She walked over to Quill, who was still kneeling, and still blubbering. "Um…" She extended an arm, retracted it, extended it, then finally, gingerly, patted Peter on the shoulder. "There there," she said in a monotone. "There there."
The idiot looked round at her – he definitely had been crying.
"I am sure that given enough time, the…things in your eyes will fade."
He got up and began to walk away.
"Peter," Nebula said.
He stopped and looked round at her. She lowered her gaze and began to speak. "I do not know what my sister saw in you, and…well, I don't know anything about the mating rituals of humans, and only little about the mating rituals of zehoberei, but I am assuming that there was some reason for mutual attraction. So if we take that reason as being worthy, then I am assuming that my sister-in-arms would not want you to act more pathetic than you already are." She nodded at the grave. "And she would want you to be happy, or, not cry, or…whatever it is that men do in situations like these, she would want you to do it and not feed the grass with liquid coming from your eyes."
Peter stared at her.
"Or something like that," Nebula said.
"Wow," Peter said. "That was…not too bad actually."
As irritating as it was, Nebula found herself being a bit proud about that.
"That the first time you've delivered the sister to boyfriend talk?"
"I do not know what that is, so I assume so."
"Right, well…" Peter wiped something away and walked back to the grave. "Just want to give this to you, you purple asshole." He gave the titan what humans called "the finger." "Dunno if there's anything after this life, but if you see your mirror universe asshole, tell him I said…like a bitch."
He glanced back at Nebula – he was back to being an idiot. Certainly he was still smiling like one.
"Well then," he asked. "Shall we? Like, we've got places to go, planets to save, people to find…"
Nebula nodded at they began to walk back to the ship. Side by side, she noted. Not a situation that she preferred, because if push came to shove, stabbing Peter in the back would be easier than doing so from the side. Still, as he began fiddling with his Zune, she figured that he'd be too distracted to react. But then, assassination wasn't on her mind right now.
"Does it help?" she whispered.
He looked at her. "Sorry?"
"The music," she asked. "Does it help? Your melodies about a blue sky?"
"Well, not my melodies technically, but…yeah." He gestured up at the sky of this world – not so blue right now, but blue enough to indicate the presence of an oxygen-nitrogen-carbon dioxide mix that favoured carbon-based lifeforms. "Like, Earth's got a blue sky, and all the best planets in this galaxy have blue skies, so…yeah. I like blue skies." He raised an eyebrow. "Why? You want to listen to blue skies?"
"I would like…" She trailed off. It had been so long since she'd considered what she wanted for herself.
"Here," Peter said. "This might help." He handed her the Zune, and she stopped walking.
"Go on, try it."
Gingerly, she took the Zune. Gingerly, she put the buds in her ears.
"Played this after my own daddy issues," Quill said. "Like, it might help, might not, but…"
It's not time to make a change,. Just relax, take it easy. You're still young, that's your fault, There's so much you have to know…
"Or it might…"
"I believe it is working Quill," Nebula whispered. "I believe it is."