somewhere, somehow, in the middle of the chaos, stress, blood and tears, they become friends.
neither of them is entirely sure how it came to pass.
maybe it was when they first met, when tony had been ushered inside by pepper and steve, and natasha had silently come to stand by nebula’s side. she hadn’t quite known what to do to help, what to say.
natasha didn’t know if she should’ve been welcoming this stranger to their planet.
if things had gone their way she wouldn’t even be here. but here she was. a simple welcome, when only terrible circumstances were the reason for them meeting, felt entirely wrong.
luckily nebula wasn’t a big talker. and she didn’t really know what to do either. no one did.
so maybe it was then, after rocket had gone inside, when they sat side by side, united by the same great loss and grief.
maybe it was then.
either way, from that day, this is how it goes;
the next few days pass in an instant.
it’s all about getting tony and nebula back on their feet, though the latter seems to struggle significantly less.
it’s interesting, natasha thinks, how nebula handles herself. she looks healthy, quickly, and natasha wonders if it’s an alien thing. or maybe it’s just a nebula thing.
even so, she knows that the other woman is still in pain, just like they all are. she’s just better at hiding it. natasha is a master at reading body language, and she can tell that there are plenty of things going on behind the robotic facade.
and about that too she wonders. about why nebula seems to be made up of party flesh, partly metal. maybe she was born like that. a part of natasha highly doubts it.
but she knows better than to ask.
scars, she knows, can take all shapes and forms.
all she needs to know is that nebula is there, that she is fighting with them, and that she’s a survivor.
they go to space. it’s the first time natasha has ever been. obviously.
somehow her life went from being an assassin, to reluctant hero to full time avenger, fighting monsters, aliens and gods. and then to space.
her life had been far from normal, she shouldn’t really be terribly surprised. still, a part of her still can’t wrap her head around that she. was. going. to. space.
when the rocket launches and the light blinds her for a second, she swears carol danvers’ blonde hair morphs into someone else’s, and then she’s taken back, back to when it was only her and yelena.
it’d been a rare moment, a rare warmth in the godforsaken darkness of her life and memories. they’d been on a mission, an assassination of a american scientist, and they’d been staking out their target. he’d moving all over, but eventually they had tracked him down to a cabin on the outskirts of the city.
she doesn’t remember the details of what he was working on, or what activated his fail switch. she doesn’t remember how the bomb detonated, or what exactly happened before and after. all she remembers is the immediate aftermath, when she laid in the dirt, and she’d found yelena breathing sharply next to her.
«look,» she’d said.
and natasha had looked up at the stars, looked at the wild night sky above them where the roof had been blown to hell, all of the stars shining brightly in the darkness.
it had been beautiful. it was unfair that something so beautiful could exist in a world so profoundly dark and evil.
maybe it was just because she was sure she was going to die that yelena had said it, words whispered around the blood in her mouth.
«imagine being up there. to be free, like them.»
imagine that, natasha thinks, when the familiar blonde locks turn back to the unfamiliar features of carol danvers again, with hair washed clean, no bloodstains in them.
not entirely free, natasha thinks sadly. i’m headed to a planet to fight a mad titan . but i’m actually up here, among the actual stars. it’s closer than any of them ever expected to get. madness, evil, but surrounded by impossible beauty.
can you see me now, yelena?
she didn’t expect anyone to notice her impromptu trip down memory lane, focused as they were on the task ahead. for a second she thought she’d gotten away with it.
but then she recognizes the unmistakable feeling of being watched, and she turns towards the stare she feels burning into the back of her head.
her eyes catch nebula’s, and the other woman looks at her. and then she nods.
they have to remember who they’re fighting for after all.
this time it’s clean and cynical.
thor goes for the head.
the titan’s blood splatters all over nebula’s face.
and then it’s over.
it doesn’t feel like a victory.
because it isn’t. a victory means that someone has won, victory means safety, victory means peace, but for everyone who remained it felt like nothing but loss.
half of the world was gone. the rest of it was falling apart.
her friends, her family, snapped out of existence or killed outright. laura, lila, cooper, and nathaniel - who clint had named after her - t’challa and his people, sam, vision, wanda.. gone.
she doesn’t know why she’s left. she doesn’t deserve to be.
but maybe that’s why. doomed to live in the result of failure.
it’s cruel, she thinks.
it’s fitting.
minutes turns into hours, hours to days, and days into weeks.
and then one day natasha decides that she’s done crying, done sitting around on her ass doing nothing, for herself or anyone else.
the compound is haunted by the ghosts of her family and of her failure, but after days and days and days the rational part of her mind finally wins some ground. they would hate seeing her like this. she taught wanda how to fight, and now, with the fight of her life on her hands she’s giving up.
yelena would slap the shit out of her. maybe even shoot her.
so she dries her tears and gets to her feet.
and she stays at the compound, she brushes the dust off every surface she can find, she restocks the food, she readies the rooms.
and then she calls whoever’s left.
rhodey’s in, and her heart swells. carol too, whenever she can. okoye stands with her, and the respect natasha has for the woman grows tenfold.
but it’s not all easy. clint has disappeared, tony has retired completely, thor has left, and steve has decided to fight the coming tide with words and not fists, not anymore. a part of her is incredibly proud of him. another part of her feels utterly abandoned by all of them.
but she gets it, she does. grief and loss, it looks different on everyone.
and leading the avengers is how it looks for her.
her final call goes to the guardians, or what’s left of them, and when nebula picks up at the first ring, almost as if she’s been waiting, natasha tries and fails to stifle her surprise. the woman just sends her a knowing look, and even through the hologram natasha knows.
«took you long enough,» she finally says, and for the first time since that fateful day, natasha almost smiles.
she’s lonely, most of the time, but she can’t bring herself to be too upset about it.
she’s helping and it feels right. from the smaller to bigger things, she’s doing something positive in this god forsaken world, and it lifts the weight on her heart, slowly but surely.
she trains, she writes, she dances and she ruins more than one punching bag. steve would be proud.
but it’s still difficult. even with everything she’s doing, a part of her can’t stop thinking about her losses, of all the could’ve beens.
it’s on one of those days, when natasha trains with even more fervour, when there’s an extra bite behind the punches, when the sweat on her face could be tears, that something changes.
«wanna punch something that punches back?»
she swings around, and spots nebula by the door, watching her. dark eyes go from natasha to the mess of punching bag stuffing on the floor, and back to natasha again.
she raises a delicate eyebrow and then walks towards natasha, not waiting for an answer.
the other woman throws the first punch and the dance has begun.
it’s different, fighting with nebula. she’s strong, fast and ruthless and not afraid to hit her, as if she’s made of the hardest metal and not fine glass. nebula treats her as an equal. nebula hits at her as if she’s not fragile or broken.
natasha loves it.
soon enough it becomes a routine.
whenever nebula or natasha returns from a mission they spar, and it’s exactly what they both need.
they learn each other’s styles in and out, sharing unspoken words through their intricate dance, through body language, through their decisions.
before long talking through fighting becomes talking with words, and even if both of them aren’t talkative by nature, that is how it goes.
“how did you learn?” nebula asks.
they’re sitting on the pier, natasha dangling her feet over the still water. the veil of sweat on her reflects the sunset, colors of orange and yellow dancing on her skin.
“impressive,” she continues. “you’re nothing like the others.”
the others . tony with his gadgets. steve with the serum. thor, a literal god.
“neither are you,” natasha replies.
she thinks of nebula’s question, and she looks at the fading sun, a wistful look on her face.
she feels the other woman move closer to her then, sitting down next to her with a surprising gentleness.
“you’re right. there is no one like me.” nebula speaks first. “not anymore.”
natasha turns to her, letting nebula know that she’s listening.
“i wasn’t always like this,” she says. “made of metal, made of steel. once, i was a daughter. before thanos came, before i became this , i had a family. or i think i did. i must’ve. i remember it in flashes, before i was unmade and made anew.”
nebula sighs. “he used it against me, just like he used it against gamora. all i wanted was to be accepted, to have a family, and he knew it. he knew what i wanted before i even did. he twisted it, and then he became it. i was blind, too blind to see. i was young and naive. ”
“love is for children,” natasha whispers. “that’s how i learned.”
their eyes meet, green and black. so different, but so similar all the same.
natasha nods at her, a silent thankful gesture. it’s not easy, talking about a painful past. nebula had almost spoken more words today than natasha had heard from her in all the time she had known her.
it was only fair she did it too.
«i’m not sure how many we were,» natasha begins. «all i know is that even if it was just one, just me, it would still be one too many.»
the sun has dipped beyond the horizon, painting the sky in a vibrant red. they sit in silence for a minute, simply watching as the world gets bathed in the red hue.
«it was called the red room. it’s where i grew up. it’s where i too was made and unmade. it’s where i learned. or thought i did. i was taught to fight. i was taught that love is for children, that love is weakness.»
«is it?» nebula asks. «weakness?»
«no,» natasha says sincerely.
«even then i knew, love, or the idea of it, made me stronger. even if it was for the wrong things. for my country, for the kgb, for my handlers, for myself. it’s backwards, really. they made us strong to protect a nation and an idea that they believed in, loved even, and made us want to be the same.»
she thinks of her sisters again, murdered in the cold snow after a life of suffering. she thinks of yelena. of soft whispers in the night, the sound of metal handcuffs, of light touches over the swollen flesh.
she burnt the red room down for her, for them, for all the girls who had ever suffered there.
«and now? now i know it’s not a weakness. even if it took me years to understand. compassion is what brought me on this path, from a man who didn’t even know me, only the horrible things i had done.»
clint. and oh, all the bartons. gone..
the gravity of the situation weighs down on her, squeezing suddenly, painfully. so much loss, so much in her young life. natasha suddenly feels old. so old, the childhood she never had not even a distant memory. no one should ever have endured what she had, enough for hundreds of lifetimes.
«it’s alright,» nebula breaks the silence. only then natasha realizes that her face is damp, that the traitorous tears have fallen.
«here,» she says, taking natasha’s hands in her own, guiding them. through her blurred vision natasha sees her pointing her fingers towards each other in an l shape.
«i—what are you—?»
nebula conjures a crumpled piece of paper, playing it on the wood of the pier, not too far from natasha’s fingers.
«stark showed me this,» nebula says. «it’s stupid and childish.»
she flicks the paper with her finger, and it goes flying, wide of everything and into the water with a soft plop.
«it’s also fun,» she says, already putting forward a new piece of paper and dropping it in front of natasha. she positions her own fingers, waiting for natasha to make a move.
«let’s be children,» nebula says.
in the faded light natasha wonders what picture they make. two former assassins playing silly games on a pier in the sunset.
it’s a beautiful picture.
«let’s be children,» natasha echoes.
and nebula is right. it is fun.
being with nebula becomes a highlight in natasha’s life. it becomes one of those things she knows she’ll cherish forever in her heart.
between all of the things she’s lost, she tries to save the good things, the good memories. in the darkness there are bright, shining spots of light; like tony and pepper’s love, beautiful little morgan, steve’s soft smile, his warm shoulder under her head as they catch up on decades of movies and series he’s missed out on, rhodey’s bad jokes, carol’s stories of the wonderful worlds she’s seen, her own earth with beautiful sunsets, and now, conversations and sparring with nebula.
natasha and nebula are both incredibly competitive, and it evolves from tony’s football game to smaller and bigger things. nebula finds she can jump further than natasha. natasha is a better swimmer, and when nebula accidentally bumps her head into the pier when they race, natasha almost sinks to the bottom laughing. nebula’s brute strength - natasha stubbornly credits the metal in her arm - lets her be the first to five ruined punching bags. natasha is better with a gun, and it gives her the edge when they compete in archery.
nebula is an avenger now, her family.
nebula tells natasha about gamora, about their lives together and their relationship.
natasha tells nebula about yelena, about the mistakes she made, about regrets, about missed opportunities.
and in the five years before their world changes again, they find a small semblance of peace.
nothing lasts forever.
this time, when nebula returns from space, everything is different.
there’s an idea. a hope.
the compound is crowded, the furniture and rooms natasha has so carefully maintained filled again, as if she was preparing for this moment all along.
time travel.
get the infinity stones before thanos gets them.
it’s insane.
it might actually work.
everyone is here, the scattered avengers back together again. nebula scans the faces of those she hasn’t seen before, and those who she’s seen through holograms for the most part.
she looks at natasha too, natasha who radiates hope and purpose now. dark eyes sweep over the crowd again, and the cynic part of her can’t help but feel anger.
it’s strange seeing a full room, especially after spending years in these abandoned halls, the only sounds being her own footsteps or natasha’s as she spent her days running the place, taking care of it. no one but her to see natasha’s hunched shoulders, or tears, or listen to her whispered confessions. no one but nebula.
natasha is happy, overjoyed at having them back, at the prospect of a solution, that she’s forgiven them all. nebula allows herself to feel angry and a bit resentful for her. the archer, her bestfriend , left her. steve warmed the room, but left her to fend off the ghosts on her own. everyone grieves in different ways, nebula thinks.
doesn’t mean she has to like it.
turns out, between them, they’ve all been in close proximity to every single stone at one point or another.
it’s a marvel, how quickly it all comes together.
some of the stones are even in the same place. others, entirely desolate.
«thanos found the soul stone on vormir,» nebula says.
«what is vormir?»
natasha’s voice breaks the silence. she’s sitting propped up, pen hovering over the paper. not going to miss a single detail.
«a dominion of death. at the centre of celestial existence.»
natasha shoots her a look. dramatic.
a dark feeling grows in nebula’s chest as she remembers the events of that fateful day all those years ago.
«it’s where thanos murdered my sister.»
the silence this time is absolute. dark eyes meet green.
and then the pen moves as natasha writes it all down.
«what is vormir?»
natasha’s hunched over her desk, back to the door, but she’s grown so accustomed to nebula’s presence by now that it’s impossible to miss it.
«i don’t know,» nebula’s raspy voice answers honestly.
it’s dark outside, the final night before the time heist, before the fight of their lives. nebula knew that natasha wouldn’t be asleep, and so she wasn’t surprised to find light underneath her door.
two night owls they were.
«most of our bonding takes place at night,» natasha had said once. «don’t tell tony.» she’d laughed at that, like it was a very funny joke. «he’d have a field day.» she’d laughed even harder at the look on nebula’s face. nebula didn’t get it. weird terran things, she’d decided.
«it is where thanos killed gamora..» natasha murmurs. nebula looks over her shoulder and down on her desk. underneath the notes of nebula’s words, natasha had written something in big letters and circled it.
why?
for the longest time nebula had thought about it too, about the words from the confrontation on titan. she remembers them clearly, even without seeing natasha’s scribbles. there, underneath the why, natasha had written the very same words nebula had uttered herself that day.
he took her to vormir. he came back with the soul stone. she didn’t.
once, long ago, nebula had told natasha all about the events of titan. she didn’t expect her to remember. but of course she did.
there’s an arrow between the paragraphs, with a note.
connection.
«you think..?» nebula asks, eyeing the paper.
«yes.» natasha says. «or i mean-,» she catches herself. «i’m not entirely sure. but i believe—»
«—that something is protecting the stone? that there might be a payment for it?» nebula finishes for her.
natasha nods.
«like what?» nebula asks, dread creeping into her voice. she doesn’t want the answer, not if it’s what she thinks it is —
thanos cared for gamora, in his own twisted way. cared for her, more than he ever had for nebula. he never did anything unless he deemed it absolutely necessary. he wouldn’t kill gamora for no reason.
— but there’s no way it isn’t. both their minds went there, nebula knows they’re thinking the same exact thing.
natasha doesn’t reply.
«like what?» nebula asks again, more insistent this time.
«you know,» natasha finally says.
i do, nebula thinks. i do, dammit. and then the rage from earlier is back, the unfairness of it all propelling her forward.
«is this why you volunteered for this mission?»
«you know me, better than anyone here,» natasha says in lieu of a direct answer. «i’ve told you about everything i’ve done. if there’s a chance that we’re right about this, i couldn’t live with myself.»
«i can’t let you—»
« you’re not letting me do anything. i’m doing it.»
«you’re impossible, you know that.» nebula says, unable to keep her anger at bay.
«impossible to kill i hope.»
« don’t joke about this!» nebula shouts.
natasha blinks. even nebula herself seemed surprised with her own outburst. natasha eyes soften in understanding.
“if you stand for nothing, nebula,” she says in the deep silence. “what do you fall for?”
“you--”
and natasha’s right. nebula hates her a little bit for it.
«we all have a part to play, i know,» nebula tries again, breathing to control herself. «you’re right, i know you. and i trust you to get it done. i know you’ll get it done. that’s what i’m afraid of.»
i know you deserve better.
and i know i can’t stop you.
«it’s alright,» natasha whispers, mirroring nebula’s own words from so long ago.
«i’ll never forgive you,» nebula whispers back.
«i know.»
thank you, her eyes seem to say. thank you for understanding.
«it’s alright.»
it isn’t.
«romanoff, come in!» nebula’s voice is desperate in the comms. «he knows, thanos knows!»
please hear this natasha, nebula screams in her head, as if the words could reach her on sheer will alone.
natasha doesn’t hear it. no one does.
and when nebula is beamed up into ship, up into the skies,
natasha is falling, down, down
...down.
no one tells her that natasha is dead.
no one has to.
the minute nebula doesn’t see her on the battlefield alongside her teammates, she knows.
everyone is there. the captain, stark, the dusted returned, her silly guardian family she grew to tolerate, even gamora. even her sister.
everyone.
but not natasha.
and there’s no time to dwell on it, not then and there and she knows that natasha would understand, better than most, what had to be done. it’s almost as if she can hear natasha’s voice in her head, teasing her as they fight, giving up already? and her own hitting back, you wish , and that knowing smirk. neither would give in.
natasha trusted nebula with her knowledge, trusted her to keep it to herself, trusted her to let her do it. trusted her to not give up.
the questions will come later, cause there has to be a later, there has to be.
and so nebula fights, fights the grief in her heart, fights thanos’ army, fights because. they. have. to. win. cause natasha did her part, trusting nebula to do hers.
trust us to get it done.
and in the end they do it.
they win.
after, she returns to space.
her dysfunctional family is back, and she doesn’t hesitate to follow them.
there is, after all, nothing holding her to earth anymore.
the thought of natasha sends a pang of sadness through her again, followed by the simmering rage underneath the surface.
she doesn’t quite know who she's angry with. thanos of course, more than anyone. without him, natasha wouldn’t have jumped to her death to retrieve the final stone.
she’s angry that there had been no body to bury, her remains left on another planet in a different time. natasha deserved a better final resting place . subconsciously nebula calculates the route to vormir, and how long it would take to get there and being her home. even if it would be pointless, her body wouldn’t actually be there.
a part of her is angry at natasha too. she knew, or she suspected, that there was a payment. and she paid it.
that is how it was to be an avenger, or guardian or whatever the hell nebula was. everyone was willing to take the hit, to be the one to make the sacrifice, and everyone hated the others for wanting to do the same.
she’s angry that natasha had been okay with it. angry that it had been the right thing to do, that there had been no other way.
she’s angry that there’s liquid coming out of eyes when she thinks of it.
she thinks of stark, and his stupid games.
she thinks of her and natasha playing it, on the pier, when the sun had set and the tears finally dried on natasha’s cheeks.
stark is dead. natasha is dead.
gone.
but somehow, nebula was still here.
and she vows to remember.
remember so they’re never truly gone. as long as she’s around, natasha, her friend , will never fade away.
i’m sure we’ll see each other again, nebula thinks.
and through the windows of the benetar she sees the vast void of space they’re headed into. she sees stars, galaxies, every color of the universe itself. she sees the fruit of natasha’s labour, an universe full of life and greens and golds and reds and orange. in it she sees the hue of natasha’s hair, the green of her eyes.
until then, rest easy among the stars.
iforgive you.