A spaceship exploded, but it wasn't Nebula and Peter's fault this time.
The explosion was contained to the laboratory on Sanctuary II. The explosion sounded like a thunderclap echoing through the bones of the ship. Heather stumbles out of the lab. She's clutching the only remaining specimen to her chest. The tremor that followed knocked her off balance, she fell, dropping the specimen. It squeaked indignantly and ran as fast as its small furry legs could carry it. Peter leans out of his cabin in his light blue pajamas and slippers. He's carrying his handgun and his Walkman. "Grab that musty!" Heather stands up and runs towards them.
"The what?" Peter blinks, he was still half asleep. The specimen scurried around Peter's feet, he yelped in surprise and shot at it. Heather tackled him. The bullet ricocheted off the floor shattering the ceiling light. Peter yanked Heather out of harm's way as broken glass rained down. The specimen fled down the hallway, squealing in fear.
"I need it alive!" Heather shouted to hear over the ringing in her ears. She shoves Peter away and chased after the specimen. The broken glass crunched under her slippers.
Nebula's cabin door slid open. Her gaze settled on Peter, "I'm trying to sleep, you invertebrate!"
"Can't argue right now, need to catch a rodent!" Peter pointed down the hallway.
"What? Peter, hey!" Nebula and Peter easily caught up with Heather. "What's happening?!"
Heather had lost sight of the specimen, she dropped to the floor looking under a table. "One of my experiments escaped, I need it back."
Nebula took a cautious step back, "Which experiment? The one with the contagious disease that blinds people?"
Heather cringed trying to come up with a delicate way to say yes. "Seriously?" Peter yelled.
"Allace and I are close to developing a cure," Heather said in her defense. "I need the specimen to–" A chorus of high pitched screams cut Heather off.
"I found your musty." Nebula headed in the direction of the screaming.
Peter grabbed Heather by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. She found herself looking down at the metal floors, she pushed herself upright. "This is highly unnecessary!"
"You're too slow," Peter offers as an explanation. Heather squirmed trying to get comfortable. She twisted around until she was sitting on his shoulder. They followed the sound to the servant's quarters. Noihr and Lytah shrieked as the rodent scurried past them. Hexia tried to stomp on it.
"Don't kill it!" Heather shrieked, and Peter shoved Hexia aside. Nebula snatched the specimen off the ground but it wriggled out of her grasp. In a blind panic, the specimen squeezed into the air vent. Nebula rips it off the wall and makes a futile attempt to grab it. Her thoughts clouded with fear and that turned to rage. She punched the wall, chipping away the drywall and revealing the metal paneling beneath.
Heather knew she should have been more careful, this was her fault. If she had been faster or stronger like her older siblings the specimen wouldn't have escaped. Now they could have an epidemic on their hands. Heather rested her cheek against Peter's head. "Chill out Neb, we'll find it." He sounded confident despite his own thoughts drifting to the worst case scenario.
Several insults passed through Nebula's mind before she settled on, "You bird brain, it could be anywhere on the station by now! How in the seven moons are we supposed to catch it?"
"We could smoke it out," Peter suggested.
"We're not going to poison our air supply." Nebula wrinkled her nose at him.
"Can't handle a little poison, Smurfette?"
Nebula rolled her eyes, "How can so much stupid reside in such a small person?"
"I'm not small! I'm taller than you!" Peter said indignantly. They kept arguing about nothing but Heather wasn't listening anymore. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing until everything else fell away. At first, she could hear the thoughts of the people closest to her. She reaches out. Heather was wading through the sea of voices. She could feel the servants cleaning the galley, her siblings getting ready for bed, and Proxima Midnight sparring with her husband. She still hadn't found what she was looking for. They were all shouting at her, it felt like someone was driving an ax through her skull. Then she hears it. She lets all the other voices fade into the background.
She latched onto the specimens stream of consciousness and pushed her way in. Heather had only tried this once before on an insect, with guidance from her teacher. It put up more of a fight than Heather expected but she overpowered the creature. It would be dangerous to do this for too long, she won't stay longer than a minute to be safe.
Heather blinks her eyes rapidly, as she adjusts to seeing through the rodent's eyes. There were colors she had never seen before, colors her language had no words for. The number of foreign sounds and smells was overwhelming, every sound is crisper, louder. She was moving fast. She felt comfortable in the darkness, running through the air vents with no destination in mind. There are flashes of light, glimpses of ships, and boxes. There were big men with guns and others in long white coats unloading equipment. Someone was speaking in a language she can't comprehend, his voice booming through the vents. It was familiar but she couldn't place who the voice belonged to. She had a craving for raw meat, she should have been fed by now. She had never been so far from the safety of her box of wood chips, it was very frightening.
"Jellybean?" Suddenly she was somewhere else, someone else. Her vision dulled to muted tones, and her head is throbbing. She rubs her eyes and felt for whiskers that weren't there. She traced the red swirls on her olive green skin curiously with her finger. She could have sworn she had fur, but no, that was wrong. "Jellybean, are you okay?" She can't remember her name but she knew it was not Jellybean. Heather, that was the name her mother gave her, for the flowers that bloomed on the day of her birth. She remembers how Ronan hunted down and killed all of the telekinetics in her village, how Ebony Maw rescued her. Heather remembers that Peter called her "the jellybean thief" her first month on Sanctuary II because she refused to talk and ate all his candy. She rubs her temple and takes a deep breath.
"I know where the specimen is," Heather said, placing one hand on Peter's head to steady herself. "It's on the lowest level of the flight deck." Nebula and Peter exchanged glances both confused about how Heather got this information. She sighed trying to come up with a simplified explanation of the experience, "I projected my consciousness into the specimens mind."
"You can do that?" Peter asked out of disbelief.
"Ebony taught me how," Heather says with a hint of pride.
"We're wasting time. Let's go before we have an epidemic on our ship," Nebula takes the lead. They run back the way they came, heading for the main stairwell.
"Gotcha, we got time for a quick snack?" Peter asked Nebula, she rolled her eyes in response. "No? Not even one of those protein bars?"
"I like those!" Heather chimed in.
"You're both the worst!" Nebula shouted as she lunges over the railing on the stairwell.
Peter leaned over the railing, watching Nebula drop down to the bottom floor. "Fine. We'll stop the epidemic first, and then get a snack," he said. Heather clung tightly to Peter as he jumped over the railing. She closed her eyes as the ground rushed to meet them. She clenched her jaw to hold back a scream. "How's the weather up there?" Peter asked as they landed.
"Never do that again, please." Heather squeaked, opening her eyes slowly. She relaxed her death grip on Peter's shoulder.
"Sorry, I forgot you're allergic to danger." Peter weaved through the hallways, pushing disgruntled servants out of the way.
"My immune system has nothing to do with my fear of heights," Heather mumbled.
"It's a joke, Jellybean." They took a shortcut through the hangar bay. They weave through the enormous Destroyers heading straight for the exit. The flight deck needed enough room for each of the massive ships to take off and land, so naturally, it was an enormous wide open space. A number of ships had returned from various errands. The servants milled about the space unloading cargo with assistance from Thanos' hired army. A handful of scientists are unloading expensive equipment. If they had to search the entirety of the flight deck, it would take all night.
Peter scanned the area for any sign of the rodent. Nebula had already come to the same conclusion as Heather, she glares at her, "Okay, where is it?" Heather closed her eyes. She knew reaching out again would only make her headache worse, but she needed to try.
It was easier to find the specimen's consciousness the second time. Heather latched onto its mind almost immediately and pushed her way in. She exhaled slowly, as she adjusted to her heightened senses. It was huddled between the wall and a large crate. Across the room, men are moving shiny objects. It was safe in the shadows. There were too many giants around to risk moving. Hunger was stronger now, she could smell meat somewhere to her left.
Something soft is pressed against her head. "...ears are bleeding!" She panicked, recoiling away from the offending object. Her eyes flew open, she was uncertain of where or who she was. Everything felt wrong. The pain in her head was unbearable. The bright lights and noise only made it worse. It was too much. She couldn't take it anymore. No more. No more. No more.
~~•˖✧• •✧˖•~~
Jellybean pressed the palm of her hands into her eyes. Peter had set her down on the table after she nearly fell off his shoulders. Nebula was searching for the musty. Morgan had abandoned the Ai and fetched the emergency first aid kit. Heather was hyperventilating, consumed by panic and pain. She kept muttering the words, "no more," over and over again.
"No more what? What do you need?" Peter asked gently.
"It's too much, too bright, too noisy," Heather murmured, shaking her head back and forth.
Peter could fix that. Morgan set the first aid kit down, "Do you kids need help?"
"Nah we're good, gimme this," He yanked the tie away from Morgan's collar. He carefully tied it around Heather's eyes, "Is that better? Not too tight?" she nodded adjusting the blindfold. Peter pulled out his Walkman from his back pocket. He slipped the headphones over Jellybean's ears, he pressed his Walkman into her hands so she could adjust the volume as needed. He could hear I Can't Live With You by Queen playing through his headphones. Peter sat next to her on the table, Jellybean leaned against him. She dropped her arms to her sides, resting a hand on top of Peters. As the next song begins to play, Peter turns down the music so Heather can hear him. "Where's the musty?"
Jellybean tugged the blindfold off but kept the headphones. She glanced around the room and pointed to the far wall. There is a pile of crates full of food rations near the wall. Morgan checked Heather for any serious head injury and helped her clean up the blood. Peter slid off the table and crept across the room. He leaned against the wall and looked down. There was a quivering ball of fluff. Its black fur turned grey from dust, it's round brown eyes are hungry and fearful. It turns its head and looks directly at him.
Peter dragged the crate away from the wall with one swift movement. The musty sprinted away and Peter gave chase. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. The musty moved surprisingly fast for something so small. It squeezed between two crates, and Peter kicked it over. Meat and dairy products slid across the room. The musty squealed in fear and darted through the crowd of jackboots. Peter shoved them out of the way as he ran. One of the Jackboots panicked as the musty scurried by and opened fire. Heather shouted, "Don't shoot," as Peter jumped into the line of fire and aimed his gun. The bullet finds its mark. The corpse fell limply to the floor. He lost sight of the musty.
It ran over Morgan's foot. He yelped and punted it across the room. Morgan lept backward, fumbling onto the table. The musty bounced once and slid under a warship. Peter was too busy laughing at Morgan to notice the toolbox on the floor. He tripped, knocking files off the table as he fell. Paper flew everywhere, covering the floor and Peter. "Idiots!" Nebula shouted, kicking a crate in front of the air vent, before running towards the warship. She dropped to the floor as Peter sat up. "I can't get them out," she was on her belly, reaching under the warship.
Heather pulled the headphones off, "It's hungry, try luring it out with meat."
Nebula grabbed one of the rations of meat from the floor and opened the packaging. "Pete, grab that jar."
Peter mumbles, "Okay." He was preoccupied with getting out from under the pile of paper. He stands up and dusts himself off. He sighed, grabbed an open jar off the table.
Nebula set out the meat and backed away. There was a tense moment while they waited to see if the musty would make an appearance. They all backed away from the warship and stood as still as possible. After several agonizingly long minutes passed, The musty crept out from under the warship. It watched them with frightened beady eyes. Its nose twitched twice, and it ran directly for the meat. Peter slammed the jar down, trapping the musty inside. "I got it," He announced. Heather and Morgan got down from the table. Morgan punched holes into the lid of the jar with his knife and handed it to Nebula. She slid a piece of paper under the jar and flipped it over. The musty squealed and pawed at the side of the jar, as she put the lid on it.
Heather took the jar from Nebula, "Thanks, Neb. I am sorry for bothering you with all of this. I know it's late, and you have training tomorrow."
Nebula sighed, shifting her weight uncomfortably, she stole a glance in Peter's direction. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, and then shrugs. "You don't always bother me."
Heather stares down at the jar, "It's okay if you can't say it. I don't want you to act like–"
Nebula slams her fist down on Heather's head to get her to stop talking. "Stop reading my mind, you dork! Those thoughts are personal!" Nebula turns a shade purple.
Heather puffed out her cheeks in frustration and shielded her head. "I'm not doing it on purpose! This is little sister abuse! Peter!" He just laughed at them.
The room relaxed with the threat neutralized. Morgan was sifting through his papers salvaging what he could, most of them had been soaked in blood and then stepped on. The cleaning bots milled about the room trying to mop up the blood. One of the cleaning bots kept running into the corpse while beeping in distress. The aprons would clean up the corpse later, it would be ground up and turned into fertilizer for the garden. Thanos would hire a replacement by the end of the week and no one would think about the corpse on the floor ever again.
Heather took off the headphones and set them down on the table. "I think I got blood on your headphones."
Peter shrugged, he was preoccupied with the new bullet holes in his blood-soaked shirt. Sure, being shot stung a little, but it ruined clothing. He'd have to throw this shirt away. "Don't worry about it, I'm covered in it."
Morgan knit his eyebrows together, "Yeah, you're bleeding a lot. Are you okay?"
Peter did his best to clean himself up with a towel, "Ah this is nothing."
"You've been shot four times," Morgan pushed up his glasses.
"Peter has a high tolerance for pain since he gets in trouble constantly," Nebula says tauntingly.
"Huh?" Peter looked down at his chest counting three bullet holes. His hand went to his head, "Oh my god! That jerk shot my ear off, oh my god!" He jumped up and down while shouting and then kicked the corpse.
Heather pursed her lips, "It will grow back."
"I thought this was nothing?" Nebula says in a mocking tone.
"I lost an ear!" Peter shouted melodramatically, "I need those, Nebula!" He kicked the corpse again. It didn't make him feel any better. He watched as two cleaning bots got caught on the corpse and together they pushed it across the floor while beeping in distress.
"Poor baby lost one ear," Nebula said sarcastically, gesturing at him with her bionic arm. "That's really awful. I feel so bad for you!"
Peter cringed, "Ah I forgot you were… you know."
"You forgot!?" Nebula glanced around but couldn't find anything to throw at him. Unlike Peter, she did not sleep with her weapons.
"I said I was sorry!"
"No, you didn't." Nebula takes off her forearm and throws it at him. Peter ducked and it sailed over his head.
"Oh well," He grabbed Nebulas forearm off the ground. "I'm keeping this."
"Peter," Nebula stalked towards him.
Heather giggled as Nebula chased Peter around the crates. Peter hit Nebula with her arm, every time she got close. He kept shouting "Why are you hitting yourself?" Until Nebula lost her temper and tackled Peter. He didn't feel any broken bones so he knew Nebula was only roughhousing with him. His elbow slammed into her gut. She sat on him, pinning one of his arms down with her knee. Peter squirms trying to get out from under her. Nebula grabbed his arm, twisting it and until he dropped her forearm. She tried to grab it. Peter slammed his palm up into her jaw. It gives him just enough time to kick her prosthetic away. Her forearm skidded across the floor to Morgan's feet.
Nebula lets Peter get up. He scrambles to his feet and he holds up his hands for Morgan to throw him Nebula's arm. Nebula shoves Peter while glaring at Morgan with murderous intent. He panicked and tossed Nebula her arm. She clicks it back into place with a smirk. "C'mon man, I thought we were cool!" Peter clicked his tongue at Morgan.
"Sorry, she would've hurt me if I didn't give it back," Morgan said nervously.
Peter folded his arms across his chest, "How'd you know I wouldn't hurt you?"
Morgan shrugs, "Well… we're friends, right?"
"Yeah, we're friends!" Peter can't help but smile. Then he turns his attention back to his older sister with a sly grin, "Neb is way scarier than me." Nebula glared at Peter and made a point of shoving him. He does a double-take and then yells for no apparent reason. "Oh, sorry Nebula. I just forgot what your face looks like up close for a moment." Nebula punched him and Peter quickly dodged it. He laughed at his own joke.
Heather bit back a laugh. "Don't encourage him!" Nebula glares at Heather, "He's not funny. You're not funny!"
"Sorry," Heather hid her smile behind her hand. "That was mean, Pete."
"Not my fault Neb was born without a sense of humor," Peter said. "Ah!" Nebula takes another swing at him.
Heather was quick to change the subject before they got into another fight. "Hey, can we get that snack now?"
"Hell yes, I'm starving," Peter grabs Heather but the hand and leads her towards the door. Nebula folded her arms across her chest and shifted her weight. She wanted to come but didn't want to admit it. Peter turned and waved at Morgan, "See ya, doc."
Morgan looked up from his paperwork, "See you, space cowboy." He glanced at Nebula quizzically, she was standing there looking dejected. He didn't have to be a telepath to know what she was thinking. He sighed, "Those two will destroy the mess hall without supervision, you know."
Nebula nodded, taking the excuse, "Yeah it'd be irresponsible of me to let them go alone." She raced to catch up with them. Heather was waiting for her, holding the door open. Nebula berated them loudly for always causing trouble and Peter called her a stuck up daddy's girl. Heather put up with their argument about literally nothing, until they reached the mess hall. They had the mess hall all to themselves and the servants made them snacks and hot tea. Peter was eager to tell Heather about their mission, and Nebula talked over him whenever she felt his version of the story strayed too far from reality. It's nights like these that make Heather feel like everything is going to be okay.