Day 81
The days slipped by- were they even days? - slowly painfully they slugged by. With each of the slug like days that passed the man on the ship with Nebula slugged ever so much closer to death. The ship had died a day ago, and the food had run out two days before that. Nebula needed no food nor oxygen, but Tony Stark did. Tomorrow his oxygen would run out. Neither of them had said it aloud, but they both knew it. Neither of them had said a word since the ship had died. Talking used more air, and all of the words that needed to be spoken had already been said. Tomorrow she would watch him die.
He was away now, wasting precious minutes of air to speak one last message to his love. Nebula wished that there was someone left alive who she would do that for. Die for. There wasn’t. Everyone she loved was dead, and the the only person in the vastness of all space, in the universe, that was left who seemed to care about her was going to drift away and never wake up, tomorrow. Tomorrow she would officially be alone… again.
“Hey,” Nebula looked up as Tony soft voice split the silence, “Spending my, well you know… spending that in complete silence seems like a shitty way to spend these 18 hours or so…”
The man gave her a weak smile. She hadn’t seen him smile… ever. She could tell it was forced, but it was still nice to see.
“You know talking will-”Nebula began, but Stark held up a hand and silenced her.
“Look, talking is going to take up what? A few hours? It doesn’t matter. Die-” his voice choked out. Die. Nebula flinched. The word, the truth had finally hit the fleeting air.
Tomorrow he was going.
“I am going to die. I have what 18 hours. I am okay with cutting that time down, because I am going to die, and I do not to spend those few hours in silence… I can’t. I can’t do it. I want to at least try to enjoy them…”
Nebula nodded in understanding. Try to have fun.
She had an idea.
“I’ll be right back,” Nebula pulled herself to her feet as Stark began to lower himself to the floor.
She knew where Quill kept his liquor.