I walk though the halls of the Avengers Compound, where I’ve been living for the past month after my dad passed in the blip. It’s quite, not a lot of people are here right now. Everyone has stuff the do. You know, the avengers needing to calm the city down after mass destruction.
Rocket’s here, I think, but he’s probably getting his tools or working on the ship. We’re supposed to be going on a mission soon to get more supplies for our ship so we can head out again. Nebula’s somewhere, I don’t know. But right now, I really just need to be alone, I really just need to be with my dad.
I’ve been quite sad lately, I think everyone has. Normally I’m okay to walk around or go on trips and stuff like that, but today, I really just can’t.
I sit down on the couch that was kinda a living room and kind of a kitchen. Whatever it is, it’s normally the center place of the house, and where everyone normally talks. I spend most of my time in here with Rocket, and it’s normally pretty crowed, but today, there was no one.
I place my rickamacardy down on the coffee table in front of me. The ‘rickamacardy’ is something Rocket made quite a while ago, I just call it my ‘Rick Machine’.
Anyways, I place it down, flip up the picture of my dad and press the record button at the bottom of the machine. I stare at the orange letters that say my dad’s name under his picture, taken at the Nova Corps a few years back. Peter Quill. P-E-T-E-R Q-U-I-L-L. I’ve spend a lot of my time just staring at his picture, sometimes hours at a time. I’ve gotten used to everything about him. I’ve memorized the words in his description, I can describe every detail, every curve, everything. Even his jacket. It’s a reddish orange long leather jacket. He got it at a nice store on Morag a long time ago. He used all of his bounty money on that. I remember when he brought it home. He really liked it. I remember he got it on some raccoon mission and had a huge scar on his arm. It bleed though the right sleeve of the jacket a little. I believe it’s still there today. But he was blipped with it on, so I guess we’ll never know.
I sigh and start to talk. “Hi..dad. It’s me, Y/n.” I’ve been doing these entries for the past four months. About two weeks after the blip happened, once I realized he wasn’t coming back, that no one was. I though, maybe, I don’t know, they would help me, cope…or whatever. I’ve done about five now, five in the past four months. They’ve…been…something. Something to do, something to keep my mind off it. Or just keep him alive and stay connected to him for as long as I can. Rocket’s all I have right now, Nebula’s’…something. I know he’s replace a few of her parts, just to keep her alive and well. We can’t lose one more person, not after we’ve lost so much.
I hear a crash from the hallway and turn my head toward it, sharp. No one knows I do these entries, and no one will know. It’s embarrassing. I know everyone’s lost stuff and people, but…they just can’t know. Because then they’ll ask to read it and then…I’m exposed. I talk to him like he’s still alive, sorta. Because he is still alive, somewhere, in some universe, and he is still alive. I believe he is. I don’t know, it’s stupid. In the first few months, I tried to tell myself he’s still alive to help myself, to calm myself down. It’s fading. I know he’s gone….dead.
I look towards it, but I see nothing, see no one. But I just assume it’s Rockets tools or some of the machine falling off the tower, that’s happened lately. Apparently, most of the cleaners and maintenance workers go lost in the blip, so there really no one to fix it. Or there just lazy, ether way they haven’t told me. Rocket’s trying to fix it, but he just gets bored after 5 minutes and does something else. Steve tried to fix it, worked on it for about an hour. He seems nice, but I haven’t really talked to him. I’ve had a few encounters, and he’s what my dad would call, a gentleman. He always told me to get a gentleman when I grew up. I think he would like him, and also get jealous because everyone’s playing attention and listening and and taking orders from him instead of him and copy his voice. He seems really important around here. I wondered how Captain America has time to fix a maintenance machine, but I guess he’ll have less mission after..everything. Tony helped to, but he really just criticized Steve for everything he did while walking in and out and eating an apple. He seems nice but I’ve kinda stayed away from him. He reminds me of my dad sorta, the way he does things and talks, and I just can’t risk getting to attached to another person like that. There annoying while there and miss it when there gone. I loved him….and I just can’t anymore. Rocket’s knows this and tries to distract me from it, but…it just doesn’t work anymore. At leased when I’d hang out with him before the blip I’d know he’d be there when I got home. Or he’d be out at a bar or having a one night stand, wherever he was, I knew he’d come home.
Once I realized no one was there I continued talking again. “It’s been…what is it 3 months now? No, four. Four months. Wow, time flies.” I laugh slightly and try to continue. “It’s been, a heck of a couple months. Um, I’m living at the Avengers Compound now, which is fun. Tony, who was with us in the fight is here, but not Dr. Strange and Peter because they got snapped, but I’m sure you already know that by now. Everyone else is really nice, I’d think you’d like them. Rocket’s here too, and Nebula, who might not be as much as an ass as we thought she was. She still is a little, though. She yelled at me a couple of days ago. Oh, and I watched that Flash Gordon episode you wanted me to watch before…” I stop, and choke on my words. “well I watched it. I was good, not as good as I’d hope it be, but it was good. And theirs something called Spotify now? I don’t know, Tony showed me it. Has a lot of songs, you’d like it.” I stop and bang my hands into each other, a little nervous habit I have picked up over the years, and laugh at the next thing I am going to say. “I still have that picture of us,” I choke, and shallow down tears. “on the ship…a few years ago…” I collect myself. “hanging up on my wall. I like to pretend your looking down and me and protecting me.” I say with a slight laugh. “Um…yeah. It’s stupid, I know. But…I-I don’t know. It…helps me…in a way.” I laugh again at the memories I have reveled to myself and to Peter, if he can hear me. “And I still have that mixtape you gave me. Yeah, Cool Mix Vol. 1. And I-I-I was listening to the mixtape…the other day, a-a-and Come And Get Your Love came on and I-I just..started..crying. I-I don’t know why..really..I’ve listened to that playlist an-an song plenty of times, bu-but I don’t know. This time…just felt…different. I guess grief is wired in that way.” I look at my hands and do that nervous fidgety thing with my hands and try not to cry. Don’t cry. Your stronger than that. It was four months ago. You’ve gotten so far. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “And if your out there…I just wanna say…I miss you.” I lose it, the tears break. “I miss you so so much. More than anything. More than those Backstreet Boys reruns.” I laugh though the tears and wipe my eyes. “And if there was a way I could make you come back..oh..I would do it. I would do anything…just to see you again.” I say, sounding quite like my father. “Uh, anyways,” I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to collect myself. “I-I gotta go. Rocket’s probably almost done fixing the ship now. Were going to Maglem again. Yeah, I think I’ll be fun. Um, so yeah. Bye…dad. Love you.”
I stop and click the ‘end record’ button on the rickamacardy and sigh heavily. Just as I thought I was relaxed, ready to go, and most importantly, all by myself, I hear someone talk coming from the front of the room.
“Hey..uh, what was that about?”
I gasp, surprised, and turn around over to the side to see Tony, Tony Stark, the man I talked about a few seconds ago, standing in front of me.
I gasp and turn to him, awkwardly, startled. I seriously thought no one was here. Now I know what the noise was. “Uh, hey. How, um, long have you been standing there?”
“The..whole…time.” He answers, awkwardly as he edges his way over to me. He probably (well most likely) knew I didn’t want him there, and now feels kinda awkward, you know, just hearing my whole video diary to my dead dad. Well, he lost a lot of people in the blip, maybe he has a video diary to them too.
“Oh..” I say, and look down at my hands awkwardly and embarrassed. I try to fight back the tears in my eyes. You can not cry in front of him. You are strong. You can never EVER cry about this front of anyone about this except Rocket. Rocket’s seen me cry before, I try to contain it, but I guess it’s hard when it’s someone you’ve know for your whole life.
“Hey, hey, hey,” He said as he rushed over and sat next to me. Oh, no more talk. He’s probably going to do one of those sympathetic serious talk and tell me everything’s gonna be okay like everyone else does. Just because I’m a kid doesn’t mean I can’t handle it like everyone else does. Okay, maybe I can’t. But you don’t talk to adults that way, why should you talk to me that way? “I know it’s been hard, it’s been hard for everyone. You know, you lost your dad…your whole family basically. I just lost some people. I got to keep my whole family, which is nice I guess. Oh, I can only imagine what that feels like for you. It hurt for me, it must really hurt for you. He explains to me, rubbing his beard with his hand, deep in though, maybe trying to to cry. This must have been hard for him too.
“But, when I lost Peter…I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I just kept fighting…we all did. And I don’t really know what to say to you…I’m not very good with kids.” He then turned and smiled at me, trying to reassure me. I smile back at him, a fake smile, trying to reassure him I was okay.
“I just think…we gotta move on. We all do.” He said, then he started to get up, but is stopped him with my words.
“But what if I can’t move on?” I say, close to tears.
He sits back down on the couch with a groan, I don’t know how old he is, but he’s getting older, that’s all I know. “If I move on, who does this? Maybe it’s not something that needs to be done.” He says obviously quoting something.
Right then, I lose it; I burst into tears. I crumble myself into a ball and I hide my face and the top part of me. Maybe if he can’t see me cry, he won’t know or think I was crying.
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” He says, putting his hands on me, trying to get me to look up at him, I think. That’s what my dad did. I cry even harder.
“Sh, shh.” He says. “Look at me.” Yep, I was right, he was trying to get me to look at him. I glare my head up and stare at him, the way Nebula used to do.
“It’s gonna be okay.” He said, and wrapped me in a hug. Naturally, not awkwardly like you’d (or I) expect him too. I let him. I’m too tried to fight him or the hug off.Maybe he was good with kids.
“Sh, sh, sh.” He continued on. The way my dad did, or used to do. Maybe this is why I hate (or hated him, he might be on my good side now), every single freaking part reminded me of him. I can’t, I just can’t.
“No!” I say and fight off him. Not today. He’s doing fine, you should be too. I hope and sit to the other side of the couch and wrap myself into a ball and cry harder, not as much as I did on the first day or week, but close.
“Hey,” He said, getting close to me and putting his hand on my back, as if to calm me. “He’s in a better place now. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“What if I want to worry about him?” I say though tears, now looking up at him through my hand in my curled up little ball lap. I can’t see him very well though my blurry tears, but I can see his empathetic expression on his face. He’s trying to help you Y/n. Maybe you can open up to him, possibly let him help you. Your dad knew this person, maybe you can, and should, too.
“You don’t need to worry about him.” He said his empathetic tone matching his empathetic face and expression. “He’s fine up there.” He motions to the sky a little with his hand, and I know he means heaven. I don’t know if I even believe in heaven. And if God is really real, why would he take him away from me? Why would he take anyone away…from me? Why would he let any of this to happen in the first place!? I don’t need to think about this, that a story for another time, something to think about later, possibly when I’m up in those late nights at 3 in the morning again. It probably gonna be tonight.
“At least…he’ll be with Gamora.” I said, vocalizing me thoughts, basically. I position myself so my elbows and arms are resting on my legs and feet on the floor.
“He’ll be with Gamora.” He repeated, nodding, solemnly. He then moved and edged himself over to the other side of the couch, quietly, not really causing it making a big thing out of it. I didn’t want this to be a big scene, just a little message to my dad, cry a little bit, then go on the mission with Rocket and go on with my dad, and life. But I guess this is a big scene and if it’s a big scene already…
I move myself over on the couch and wrap my arms around his waste and stomach and cry heavy droopy tears. He made a little ‘oop’ sound at my surprise, obviously, or at least not likely, surprised at how I’m opening up to him after everything I’ve just done. He wraps his arms just slowly around me, hugging and embracing me.
I look up at him from my head and chin resting on his stomach and say though my tears, crying and sobbing, “I really miss him.”
“I know, and I miss him too. Well, I miss everyone-I miss Peter-I miss-” Then he stop his little drabble thing and looks down on me. “I-I miss a lot of people.” He says while he looks down on me with an empathetic smile on his face, he would be a good dad. I can just see him tucking his little girl into bed in the future. Hopefully it’s not me. That is not what I wanted from this or this conversation. I want my dad, and my dad alone. I am not going to let anyone take that away from me. Anyone.
“But he’s in a better place now.” He continues. “He probably fighting those bad guys in his playing video games and dancing and watching his Flash Gordian episodes. He says while looking up to the ceiling for a little bit, and I smile with a little laugh at the though and memories, and he does to.“He was a great man.” He said, and some little tears point into my eyes at those words and that sentence. “He’s happy up there.”
“Promise?” I say though a cry-baby little kid voice.
“Promise.” He says with a happy and reassuring smile, and with that I let got with him and wipe my crying tears from my eyes. He relaxes his body to and turns to face the other way, giving me a little privacy while I collect myself.
“Sorry,” I say. “This must be so awkward for you.” I say with a little laugh.
“No, no.” He says, still facing the other way and giving me space. “It’s fine.”
“Thanks.” I say, and I turn to face him on the couch, diving your space thing that we had and got going on with us. “Means a lot.”
“No problem.” he smiles with that empathetic smile with him, that at first at hated, his fake happiness and confidence, and positivity, but now I may or may not be learning to like. “Anytime.”
I smile at that and juts when I’m finished collecting myself and sharing the silent moment were having, Rocket comes into the room and ruins the moment.
“Hey, Y/n?” Rocket says as he walks into the avengers compound living room/kitchen.
“Hey!” I say as I stand up, surprise from such the quite silentness to this and wipe the final last few of my tears so rocket doesn’t see I was crying, or still am. Because then he’s gonna ask questions, and ask why I’m crying, and won’t give it up until I give the right answer because he’s stubborn, and then he’ll tell Nebula, and then she’s tell Rhoney (They’ve been getting quite close lately), and the Rhoney will tell everyone else and then they’ll be all worried about me and I don’t need that right now, or in my life. This can just be our little secret.
“What you doing in here?” He says as I walk up our and over the couch and out of the room to where Rocket is. Smiling, halfway because I’m happy about what just happened and halfway because I don’t want Rocket to worry about me or ask questions.
“Nothing!” I say, definitely more gleefully than I was feeling or talked a few seconds ago.
Rocket looks back in disbelief at the room we’ve just came from and at Tony. “What’cha doing with him?” He asked. I normally don’t spend a lot of time with him, so this is out of the ordinary, especially with my mental state right now. I didn’t talk to anyone these first few weeks. I’m still just opening up to people, so I don’t judge him for being curious and wondering what I’m doing with him.
“What? Nothing!” I say, as I quickly looked back to Tony and the room as Rocket did. “Just making small talk.” I say, inside of what was going though my mind.
“Okay…” Rocket said in that disbelieving grumpy tone of his that I’ve grown up with. I look back into the room Tony was in smile without and while Rocket isn’t looking. His sitting their at the end of the couch smiling. He picks up his hand a little and rest his elbow on the sofa’s end and arm rest and does a little wave. I smile and do a little wave like he did back at him.
“C’mon! Let’s go! What’cha doing?!” Rocket say ahead of me, already out the door and turned around at me. He was late to finish fixing the ship and now he’s angry that I’m taking such a long time, even though it’s for a good reason. He does not like being late or people taking a long time, especially when it’s something he actually likes, not just those little boring and odd trip to the grocery store for fuel, unless it’s fuel or or gadgets that he likes, spend enough years with him to know that about him.
As were walking outside of the avengers platform and compound to the ship, I feel pretty grateful to have such great people in my life, even if some of them are raccoons and arrogant. Maybe even if I don’t have my dad, I guess I have someone at least pretty close to my dad. Maybe that’s why I hated him for all these weeks and months. I look back now and realize I should’ve been nicer to him and myself, he’s a really great guy, and he could have helped me though this much sooner. And I realize I have to go though the stages of grief now, even if I don’t want to, but at least now I realize I have a pretty great person to got though it with. To love and support me though it, and to grieve with. And for you right now dad, I still love you, always, and I always will, and no one will ever replace you. And I’m okay for right now, and that’s enough.