Title from "Hearts on Fire" by Gavin James.
Nebula doesn't feel it.
She thinks she should. She's Thanos's daughter, after all. She's been involved in so many of his schemes. She's helped him get some of the Infinity Stones that glint so innocently in his gauntlet. She should feel it, but she's not the one who does. She's standing, waiting for the inevitable blow to fall, when Mantis says, "Something's happening."
She looks worried, and Nebula is about to take a step towards her when Mantis gives a little gasp and dissolves into ashes that blow away in the wind.
Every inch of Nebula's body goes cold.
Drax is next, with a quiet, almost frightened, "Quill?" Quill himself is next, and then the sorcerer, and then the child. The man in the suit - Stark, she thinks they call him - crumples as all that's left of the boy drifts away.
"He did it," Nebula says. She didn't feel it, but she supposes only half of the universe would. The other half, the (un)lucky half, gets to keep going.
Stark leans forward and presses his hands, dirtied with the boy's ashes, to his mouth.
For a moment, Nebula sinks to the ground and allows her grief to fill the air. They're gone. Gamora is dead, and at least three of the other Guardians are as well. Quill, who Nebula had just been starting to tolerate, or maybe even like. Drax, who was the only person other than Gamora who would spar with her. Mantis, who was so sweet that her smiles could sneak past even Nebula's strongest walls.
Nebula lets herself wallow in grief for a moment, and then she gets angry, because her grief is useless if she doesn't do anything with it.
"You," she says, walking over to Stark. "Get up."
Stark doesn't even seem to hear her. Nebula nudges him with her boot. "Up," she repeats.
"Why?" Stark says hoarsely, still staring into nothingness, trembling hands pressed to equally-trembling lips.
Why does she need him to get up, actually? The Guardians came to Titan on their ship, and Nebula can fly an M-class ship by herself. She's used to doing things on her own. She doesn't need someone else tagging along with her. She doesn't need backup. She doesn't need Stark at all.
But Gamora wouldn't leave him here. The Guardians wouldn't let him die on this barren world, so Nebula won't either.
"Because I'm leaving, and you're coming with me," Nebula says. "Now get up."
"What's the point?" Stark asks, looking up at Nebula. "They're dead. Half the universe is dead. Thanos won. It's over."
There's grief in Stark's eyes, and a sort of hopelessness that Nebula understands. He's ready to give up, she can see. He's already given up. He wants her to leave him here among the ashes of the fallen, wants her to let him die with them. It might even be a kindness.
Well, it's too bad for him, because Nebula is leaving, and she's taking him with her.
"Thanos won," she agrees, "but it's not over. I'm going to kill him."
"Seven of us couldn't kill him," Stark says. "What makes you think you can?"
Nebula bares her teeth at Stark. "Because the only thing I want in this universe is to see him dead," she says. "I have nothing left to lose. I will devote every second of my life to killing Thanos, and if it kills me, I don't care."
Stark looks up at her, and gradually, his eyes begin to harden. He wants Thanos dead too, if not quite as much as Nebula does, and he's no more opposed to a suicide mission than she is. She doesn't think he believes they'll actually manage it, but that's alright. She's not sure she believes it either, but that's not going to stop her, and she doesn't think it's going to stop Stark either.
"I can get behind that," Stark finally says. Nebula offers him a hand to help him up, and he drags himself to his feet. "Let's kill this son of a bitch."
Stark is covered in dirt and ash, and Nebula has no idea if any of it used to be one of her friends. She supposes it doesn't matter. Even if the ash used to be Mantis, or Drax, or Quill, it's not them anymore. They're gone, and it's Thanos's fault.
"Let's make it hurt," she agrees, and they head to the ship together and leave the ashes behind.