just to be quiet with you

Status: Complete
Published: 14 August 2023
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,262
Rating: Teen & Up
Tags: Mantis/Nebula (Marvel), Mantis (Marvel), Nebula (Marvel)

AO3 Mirror

Opening Notes:

Original AO3 Note: rifled through some recentish writing and reworked some bits i could stitch together into this lol. mostly this was an excuse to write them interacting and being fluffy together :]

there's some like talk of injuries and stuff in the first part but it's not too graphic i don't think

title is from 'Quiet' by Lights

Also! Probs obvious but this is post vol2 but pre everything else I guess idk timelines what timelines

It all started the first time Mantis saw Nebula’s body mods in action.

It was a mission gone wrong (didn’t they all?), in pursuit of their mark, when their mark decided self-destruction would be a better outcome than capture, and their plans immediately went to shit. One second they had stable ground beneath them, and the next everything began to rumble and shake all around them. Mantis stumbled as the floor lurched beneath her and Nebula caught her by the arm, held her up.

“Watch it—”

And then the floor had given out beneath them, so quick and suddenly that Mantis didn’t have the chance to scream.

One second they were on solid ground and the next they were free-falling, the building crumbling around them and, distantly, Mantis is aware of Nebula’s grip on her wrist and then of her arms around her, yanking her close and holding Mantis tight against her own body—

—impact, sudden and hard and painful. Something crunches underneath her (a crunch she later finds out wasn’t her own body breaking, but something in Nebula’s), and she groans. She lays there for several long moments, her entire body a tingly sort of numb that means she’s going to be hurting for days after. She only reacts when she feels Nebula suddenly come to life, her hands methodically patting her down—head, back, shoulders, checking for breaks or injuries. Mantis feels cool metal on her chin and she finally opens her eyes to find Nebula holding her face with one hand, tilting her head this way and that.

“I’m okay,” Mantis says hoarsely. Her throat feels dry and scratchy and her eyes itch from the dust and debris and the smoke that had fallen with them. “Nebula, I’m okay.” She brings a hand up to pat the one still holding her chin, a clumsy attempt at reassurance, but Nebula abruptly lets go of her chin and withdraws her hand before Mantis can touch her.

Nebula exhales, relieved, but she doesn’t linger. She starts to prop them both up with her elbows. Still sprawled across Nebula’s chest, Mantis starts to fuss over her instead.

“What about you? Are you okay?” She reaches for Nebula again but catches herself, hovering uselessly before Nebula. Don’t touch me, she remembers Nebula growling at her, ages ago, when she first started visiting the Guardians. Touch me, dig around in my brain, and I’ll make you regret it.

“I’m fine. Get up.”

“Nebula—”

“I’m fine, now get off—”

The building groans and she stiffens, black eyes darting all around. There’s a horrible creaking, splintering sound, and then the building starts to collapse all around them again.

“Fuck,” Nebula says, eyes locked on something above them, and then she’s thrown Mantis as hard and as far away from her as she can.

Mantis hits the ground hard and rolls, the air crushing from her lungs. She hears a crashing from where she’d just been moments ago, a strangled scream, and then nothing.

She only blacked out for a few minutes, she’s pretty sure. As soon as she realizes she’s awake again the pain comes with it, crashing over her like a wave, and she just wants to slip back into unconsciousness to not feel it anymore.

Mantis lays there for another minute or two, adjusting to the pain and slowly working up the energy to open her eyes and try to sit up. One arm feels slick and warm and when she checks, she finds it gashed open and dripping blood, bits of rubble and grit in the wound. Her injured arm throbs painfully, and she aches all over, but she can sit up, and she can stand, she realizes shortly after.

She looks around, clumsily wiping the dirt from her eyes and—

Oh god. Nebula.

The fog in her brain starts to clear and the memory of where she has just been—where Nebula still was—hits her like a sucker punch and she lurches for where she was, where she should be. She picks her way around the debris, chunks of flooring and ceiling, concrete and metal piled all over the place, and she starts digging through it all, throwing, dragging, shoving things aside.

“Nebula? Nebula, please…where—”

Her comm crackles. “Mantis? Mantis, are you there?” Gamora.

“G…Gamora—”

“Are you with Nebula? She isn’t answering her comm.”

“I—I’m looking for her. The ceiling…it collapsed…hang on—”

Mantis doesn’t even notice the way her voice shakes as she speaks. She claws at the piles of debris and—

“Hang tight, Bug, we’re on the way,” Peter’s voice sounds over the comm, trying to sound reassuring.

Fingers, blue, Nebula’s—

“Mantis—”

Her breath hitches fearfully and she follows the fingertips to their hand, then up the arm, slowly unearthing her teammate.

“What’s going on?”

Mantis heaves a huge slab of concrete aside, finally sending it tumbling away with one last, insistent shove of her shoulder, ignoring the spike of pain that shoots up her arm when she does.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, because now she can see how Nebula’s arm is twisted, and the way her chest has caved in.

“Mantis? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nebula—she’s injured. I don’t—”

“We’re coming, Mantis. Keep it together. We’re coming.”

Mantis is hardly paying attention, too busy frantically clawing at the rubble to uncover more of Nebula, who is frightfully still. Mantis reaches shaking hands to Nebula’s shoulders, shakes her a little. “Nebula? Nebula, please—”

Nebula shudders suddenly, gasps, her eyes snapping open. She wheezes painfully and tries to sit up, tries to force her unresponsive body into motion. The arm Mantis had unearthed from the rubble suddenly jerks and twists, snapping audibly back into place and the abruptness of it makes Mantis let out a little shriek. But then Nebula is pushing at the rubble piled around her with that arm, and Mantis realizes with a start that it seems to have fixed itself fully, and Nebula is still alive and moving and—

Mantis rushes to help, shoving and pulling and clawing at chunks of metal and stone and concrete. Every little bit of Nebula that’s unearthed makes Mantis seize with horror at the shape she’s in. Her mangled arm was nothing compared to the damage her body was sporting. She doesn’t realize she was muttering out loud, panicked, fearful whispers, or how hard she was shaking until Nebula finally shoves her away and orders, “Back off and shut up. You’re freaking yourself out.” Her voice is raspy and harsh, but she doesn’t speak meanly.

“Nebula…you…you’re—”

“I said shut up. Turn around. Look at something else.”

But Mantis doesn’t. She feels frozen.

Slowly, Nebula’s broken, twisted body snaps back into place bit by bit as she unburies herself, every snap accompanied by a painful, ragged wheeze from Nebula. At one point something grinds mechanically, pops back into place, and Nebula coughs, spits a clot of purplish blood onto the ground. Eventually all that’s left are her legs pinned by some rubble, and she finally wrenches herself free.

As soon as her legs repair themselves Nebula moves to stand, wobbles a bit, and Mantis jerks out of her trance and lurches to catch her, grabbing her by the arm. Nebula glares at her, but doesn’t throw her off, so Mantis clings tighter, hooks one arm around her waist and shimmies under Nebula’s arm to better support her.

They’ve made their way out of the collapsed building when Gamora and Peter find them. Gamora rushes them and immediately starts to check them both over, setting Nebula off into a petulant fit of protest, but it’s half-hearted; she’s too roughed up to really put up a fight about it right now.

Mantis is silent as Gamora fusses over her sister. As she does, Peter sidles up to Mantis and quietly asks, “Are you okay?” He sets a hand on her shoulder and Mantis allows herself to be pulled away from Nebula and Gamora. He guides her a little ways away, watches the way she’s full-body trembling, eyes the blood oozing from her wounded arm and follows the trail down to her hands, which Mantis belatedly realizes have been shredded bloody from all the rubble.

Mantis opens her mouth to speak but can’t quite get the words out yet. She swallows—her throat is still dry and scratchy—and gulps down several deep lungfuls of air, tries to calm herself. Peter is quiet while she does, digs around in his jacket for a handkerchief that he uses to blot at her wound.

“You hurt anywhere else?” he asks eventually. “Arm’s pretty bad, but once we get a medpack on it it’ll heal up just fine.”

“Nothing’s broken, I don’t think,” Mantis finally manages, voice faint, “ but it hurts all over.”

“Yeah, well, a long fall like that will do that to you.” Peter chuckles, trying to sound lighthearted. “You sure you’re okay? You sounded pretty freaked out on the comms, and you don’t look much better in person.”

Mantis looks down at her hands and curls her fingers into fists to try and stop the trembling. Her palms sting where her nails bite into the raw flesh. “Yes. I just—I was just…Nebula was—I thought she—”

Peter makes a sympathetic sound. “You said part of the building fell on her? Guessing she got a little knocked around, broken limbs and stuff?” When she nods he gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “First time seeing those broken limbs snap back in place the way they do is a little freaky. I probably freaked out a little the first time I saw it too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It is kinda freaky! And, well, I was kind of scared shitless of how I was gonna tell Gamora her sister got mangled, and—well. Anyways. Try not to let it get to you too bad. Nebula’s tough. A little fall won’t kill her.”

“A building fell on her, Peter.”

“And that didn’t kill her either! You see my point? A little trip to the medbay, maybe a medpack or two, and she’ll be good as new.” Mantis nods mutely and he squeezes her shoulder again. “C’mon, let’s get you two back to the ship.”

“What about the mission…?”

“Rocket, Drax, and Groot are taking care of it. Though, I should probably go check to make sure they aren’t making an even bigger mess of things…” He trots up to Gamora and Mantis trails after him. “Hey! All good over here?”

“All in one piece, luckily,” Gamora confirms. Nebula doesn’t say anything, just breathes harsh, rattling, wheezy breaths.

“That’s good. Mantis’s arm is injured, and her hands are torn up, but nothing seems broken. She is gonna need a medpack, though. You wanna take ’em back to the Benatar and bring the ship around while I go make sure nobody else has blown up?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Nebula rasps immediately.

“A building just collapsed on you. It won’t kill you to accept a little help,” Gamora says. Nebula just huffs and scowls at nothing.

“I’ll leave it to you,” Peter says, looking at Gamora. “I’d offer to help, but I think your sister might murder me, so…”

“I still might,” Nebula growls, and Gamora rolls her eyes.

“We’ll meet you in a bit.”

Nebula sticks around longer than intended after all was said and done, and Mantis soon learns that it’s because she has taken more damage in the collapse than anyone had initially realized, and more than Nebula would have willingly admitted to anyone. Mantis had only learned because she’d overheard Gamora talking to Peter about it in quiet, worried tones.

“I can’t believe her. Injuries like that and she still tried to take off on her own.”

“Well, it does sound like something she’d do. But hey, at least you managed to talk her into hanging out for a while ’til she can get herself fixed up.”

“After nearly an entire day of fighting her about it.”

“That’s just kind of her M.O., isn’t it? Can’t do anything the easy way. Or the sensible way.”

Mantis had wandered away at that point, feeling guilty for eavesdropping even though she hadn’t intended to, and she chews on the snatches of information she had overheard. So Nebula had been injured, enough to not only require additional time with the Guardians, but for Nebula—stubborn, difficult, ornery Nebula, who was often contrary just for the sake of it—to agree, even if it had taken hours of arguing with Gamora to wear her down.

In hindsight, Mantis feels a little stupid for feeling so surprised about it. She had been there for the fall and the building’s collapse, had seen Nebula’s injuries, the way she tiredly dragged herself back to the ship. But she hadn’t seen Nebula after reaching the Benatar, and Mantis had been distracted by her own injuries and the exhaustion that hit her when the adrenaline faded, and there had been no panic over Nebula’s well-being from Gamora so…it was easy to see how the assumption could be made that her injuries had just seemed worse than they were. And since no one was making a fuss…well. Out of sight, out of mind.

The guilt starts to claw at Mantis now that she’s slept and recovered and can actually think about the memory of what happened. She thinks that maybe she should try to see for herself how Nebula’s doing. She never did thank Nebula for keeping her safe.

This is how Mantis realizes Nebula is avoiding her. If she had left when she had originally planned to, Mantis probably wouldn’t have noticed. Nebula often came and went without warning, only sparing a goodbye for Gamora.

But now that Nebula was staying with the Guardians for an indeterminate length of time, Mantis realized she was being more elusive than usual. She could be hard to find on a good day, but she was still around. Mantis should have seen her at least once or twice, but Nebula was like a ghost lately. She hadn’t seen Nebula since they were brought back to the Benatar, whereupon she’d immediately stalked off into some distant corridor and that was the last Mantis had seen of her.

Mantis had taken to hunting through the halls of the ship in an attempt to cross paths with Nebula when asking the other Guardians about her yielded nothing. Nobody had noticed anything particularly odd or different from usual, and it always seemed as if she had only just missed Nebula. It really seems that she’s avoiding Mantis in particular, and the thought sits like a heavy weight in her chest.

She tracks Gamora down one night and asks point blank if Nebula was avoiding her.

“Nebula does not like to be bothered when she’s injured,” Gamora says carefully, like she was trying to be nice.

“But the others still seem to be seeing her around. Nobody has noticed anything unusual when I ask.”

“The others aren't close to my sister. They won’t notice her comings or goings enough to tell.”

“Okay, well, I’ve noticed a difference. It feels like she’s avoiding me. Is she?”

“Why does it matter if she is or isn’t?” Gamora’s eyes narrow, questioning.

“I…I want to apologize.”

A beat. That didn’t seem to be the expected response. “Apologize?”

“And thank her. I—” Mantis wrings her hands, chews nervously on the inside of her cheek. “She…she protected me during the fall. And after. She made sure to get me out of the way of the falling wreckage, and didn’t have time to save herself. It’s my fault she got hurt so badly.”

Gamora takes a few seconds to process this, and her expression softens. “Mantis, none of that was your fault.”

“Nebula was too busy making sure I was okay, and she got injured because of it.” Gamora opens her mouth to speak and Mantis hurries on. “Even…even if it isn’t my fault, I still want to apologize. And thank her.”

“Mantis…”

“Is she mad at me?” Mantis blurts out, eyes wide and distressed. “Does she blame me for being stuck here with us? Is that why she’s avoiding me?”

Gamora is silent for many long seconds, and Mantis’s stomach twists dreadfully. She doesn’t like this feeling, the thought that Nebula might hate her. Did she resent Mantis, blame her for being stuck on a ship that wasn’t hers and with people she didn’t like for god knows how long? For the broken parts of her cybernetic innards that needed to be replaced to keep her functional?

“I’ll talk to her,” Gamora finally says, quietly, and Mantis’s heart lurches hopefully. “I wasn’t lying when I said Nebula doesn’t like being bothered when she’s injured. And she’s reclusive on a good day when she visits,” she warns. “But…I’ll talk to her.”

That was a start, at least.

It doesn’t change anything, though. Mantis still doesn’t see so much of a whisper of Nebula, and when she turns her hopeless black eyes on Gamora, she can only offer up a sympathetic look and say, “I’m sorry, Mantis. She’s stubborn.”

So Mantis tries to find her again.

She wanders the ship’s halls at all hours, even deep into the night cycle; hunts in the furthest, loneliest corners of the Benatar and even spends an entire night cycle waiting outside of Nebula’s room for her to come or go, whichever the case might be, but she never does and Mantis eventually has to call it quits for the night.

Nebula must be wise to her plan, and she must also have a weird little sixth sense that tells her where Mantis is and what part of the ship to avoid at any given moment.

But Mantis can be stubborn, too.

Mantis finally corners Nebula two nights later, intercepting her on the way to her room. Nebula stiffens immediately, face twisting angrily.

“Finally!” Mantis exclaims, and Nebula made an irate sound.

“You are obnoxiously persistent,” she grit out, and then it was Mantis’s turn to get pissed off.

“So you have been avoiding me! Why?” Mantis demands.

Nebula glares, counters, “Why are you trying so hard to corner me?”

Mantis feels a spike of annoyance at Nebula dancing around having to answer with a question of her own. “I…wanted to see for myself if you’re okay. And to apologize.”

Nebula’s eyes narrowed. “What do you have to apologize for? We don’t spend any time together for you to warrant an apology.”

“You got hurt on the last mission because of me.”

She stares blankly at Mantis. “You didn’t make the ground give out, idiot. We would have fallen whether I grabbed your arm or not.”

“No…but…when…when the ceiling collapsed. If you hadn’t been distracted checking me over…if you hadn’t wasted time to get me out of the way, you might have—maybe—”

“The alternative was letting you get crushed, and my sister would not have been pleased if one her friends died on my watch.”

“She also wouldn’t be pleased if her sister died, either.”

“The wreckage didn’t kill me, did it?” Nebula challenges. “You’re not nearly as durable as I am, it certainly would have killed you.”

“But you seemed really injured! You’re not as well as you try to act. Why else would you stay as long as you have when you seem to hate us so much?” Frustration bubbles up like bile, and Mantis can hear it start to seep into her voice. Why did Nebula have to be so frustrating?

Nebula exhales sharply, impressively managing to sound incredibly annoyed even just doing that. “That is exactly why I didn’t want to be around you! I don’t want to sit her while you mewl pathetically and stare at me with big sad eyes crying about some stupid mission. I’m fine.”

“I was worried about you, you jerk! You got hurt trying to keep me safe! And what would you know about how I’ve been? I haven’t seen you in days!”

“Gamora,” Nebula says flatly. “She warned me that you were looking for me.”

“What do you need to be warned of? I’m not a threat.”

“Not for my sake. For yours.” Nebula’s voice took on a threatening edge. “I’m not known to be nice to pests.”

Mantis makes a face, feeling a little offended, and lifts her chin defiantly. “I’m not scared of you.”

Nebula snorts. “And I’m not injured. Move.”

Nebula moves to shove past her and as if on cue something in her leg grinds uncomfortably and her knee judders, and she lurches like she’s going to stumble, but catches herself. Mantis lurches as if to help but a fierce glare from Nebula stops her in her tracks. She straightens up and takes a step back. Nebula’s cybernetics hum noisily, distractingly, and something clicks in an unsteady stop-and-go rhythm.
They stare at each other for a long, uncomfortable minute.

“You are injured, then.” It was more a statement than a question; Mantis knew that she was.

“Yes,” Nebula concedes at last.

“Does it hurt?”

“It always hurts.”

“I can help you with that.” Mantis wrings her hands, but doesn’t try to reach for Nebula.

“I don’t want you to,” Nebula says immediately, defensive.

“I know,” Mantis says sadly, “but I wish you would.”

They stare at each other for a very long time, silence settling over them like a heavy weight.

“I…I wanted to thank you, too. For saving me. If you hadn’t, I don’t—” Mantis sucks in a breath.

Nebula eyes her, expression unreadable, eyes slitted.

“Please. I can soothe your pain. You saved me on that mission. Let me thank you.”

Something in Nebula’s expression changes, but Mantis can’t quite pin down what it is exactly. Nebula’s hand twitches towards Mantis’s, and she says, haltingly, “Don’t go digging around in my brain, got it? I don’t want you snooping around in my emotions.” Her voice has taken on a hard edge again, challenging, dangerous.

But Mantis only smiles faintly. “I won’t. I promise.” She holds out one hand, palm up, and waits.

Nebula eyes the proffered hand, hesitating. Still, Mantis waits.

Finally, haltingly, Nebula extends her own hand, slowly laying it across Mantis’s open palm. Immediately Mantis places her free hand on top, sandwiching Nebula’s hand between her own. Her antenna begin to glow softly and Nebula becomes aware of something prodding gently at her mind, and Nebula immediately, reflexively, tenses against the sensation.

Mantis’s thumb rubs gently at her knuckles, startling her out of her instinctive resistance. “Relax,” Mantis soothes. “It’s okay.”

Nebula sucks in a breath through clenched teeth and forces herself to relax, to give in to Mantis’s powers. The gentle probing at her mind intensifies, and suddenly washes over her like a wave lapping at the shore, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout her body and numbing the pain. Slowly, gradually, the tension starts to leech from her body, and it lulls Nebula until her eyes slide shut and her breathing evens out.

She’s faintly aware of the pain, still, throbbing lightly in the back of her mind, but it’s masked by the pulses of peace and warmth that Mantis floods her with.

Nebula’s eyes slit open—even with Mantis’s powers working overtime to soothe the pain and tension from her body, she still can’t quite bring herself to give in to Mantis’s powers all the way.

Mantis is smiling up at her, still gently rubbing circles into her knuckles.

“How do you feel?” she asks quietly.

“Peaceful,” Nebula breathes, letting her eyes shutter close once again, and Mantis smiles.

That’s how it starts.

After that encounter in the corridor Nebula stopped avoiding her, which Mantis appreciates, and even starts to seek her out, which surprises her.

She doesn’t let Mantis use her powers on her again, but she does seem more receptive to being around her, which Mantis finds that she likes quite a bit, once she got over the initial confusion.

“Do you want me to sooth your pain?” she had asked, the first time Nebula had sought her out, finding her on the bridge watching the starts drift past during one of the ship’s night cycles.

“No,” had been the curt answer, and Mantis had watched with some confusion as Nebula crossed the room and dropped into a seat.

“Oh. Okay, then.” And though she had been a little bewildered (because what else would she have sought Mantis out for?), the awkward tension soon dissipates and they lapse into a surprisingly comfortable silence.

From there, it becomes a frequent occurrence on the nights Mantis either can’t sleep, or when it’s her turn on watch during the night cycle. No matter where Mantis is on the ship, Nebula finds her, and they sit in comfortable silence. Mantis comes to treasure these nights.

The next time Mantis is on watch for the night cycle, Nebula finds her on the bridge at their usual time, with a mug in one hand that she practically shoves into Mantis’s hands on her way to her seat.

“What’s this?”

“Coffee. Help you stay awake for the night cycle. Figured you’d need it, you haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

Mantis feels something warm running through her body and blooming in her belly that can’t be fully attributed to the coffee Nebula had brought her. “Oh, thank you. Nice of you to notice.”

“Yeah, well…whatever,” Nebula huffs, frowning in a way that is distinctly not angry; embarrassed, maybe?

Mantis smiles to herself as she sips at her drink. It’s strong, a little too bitter for her tastes, generally speaking, but it’s freshly hot and in the moment, it’s the best thing Mantis’s has ever tasted. It was funny to see Nebula find a way to be grumpy even when she was being nice. With a pleased sigh, Mantis settles back in her seat, holding the mug close to her chest.

The while away the time like this for…Mantis isn’t sure quite how long, but Mantis decides that she likes this, these quiet little nights she spends with Nebula. They rarely talk, these nights, sometimes they’ll even go the entire night without speaking a single word to each other, but despite that Mantis likes just coexisting here with Nebula, peaceful and content.

“I never asked,” Nebula says suddenly, “were you badly injured in the fall?”

She’s turned back to Mantis and has fixed her serious, inky black eyes on Mantis, watching her with an intensity Mantis isn’t used to having directed at her in that way.

“Just the gash on my arm, really. And some bruising, and I scratched up my hands a little digging through the rubble, but that’s it. Nothing serious, nothing broken. Thanks to you,” she adds, heat rushing to her cheeks.

And she wonders if she’s seeing it right, because she thinks Nebula’s cheeks have also darkened a bit, but the dimmed lighting makes it hard to tell. Nebula nods, says, haltingly, “Good. I…am glad you’re okay.”

And then she turns away to stare firmly out the window and avoids looking at Mantis for the rest of the night, but Mantis can’t shake the tiny, fluttery feeling that’s started in her chest.

The next night cycle Nebula is on watch, and it’s Mantis’s turn to seek her out. Nebula regards her with some surprise, then says, “You should be sleeping.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Mantis replies. “Besides, I wanted to keep you company.” When Nebula raises a brow, she continues, “You’re always forgoing sleep to keep me company when it’s my shift. Repaying the favor is the least I can do.”

“I don’t need as much sleep as you,” Nebula points out.

“I can sleep here,” Mantis declares decisively.

Nebula snorts. “Sleep on what? The floor? That doesn’t seem very comfortable to me.”

Mantis considers this. “I’ll use you as a pillow, then, if you think the floor is so bad.”

“The hell you will,” Nebula growls, but Mantis has already dropped to the floor just in front of Nebula’s seat, and she slumps against Nebula’s leg, resting her cheek on her knee. Nebula makes a face. “You are ridiculous. This can’t be comfortable.”

“Your knee is much more comfortable than the floor would have been, actually.” 

Nebula grunts, crosses her arms and directs her scowl out the cockpit’s window, and Mantis sits up so she can look at her, wondering if perhaps this was a bit too far, too personable. “You know I’m just messing with you, right? I can leave if I’m bothering you.”

Nebula grumbles indistinctly to herself for a moment, and eventually mutters, “It’s fine. You can stay like that if you want. But I don’t believe it’s any better than the floor.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care, do what you want.”

Mantis huffs with laughter, and then laughs again, louder, when Nebula side-eyes her crossly.

She lets her head fall back against Nebula’s leg, closes her eyes, and enjoys the moment.

The next time Mantis tries to tries to keep Nebula company during the night-cycle it’s the third or fourth day she’s gone without much sleep and Nebula, unfortunately, takes one look at her and clocks her exhaustion immediately.

“Go to bed.”

Nebula is standing in front of Mantis, staring down at her in a way that isn’t quite a glare, but is intense, and under normal circumstances would probably have been worrying to be on the receiving end of. But Mantis held no fear for Nebula, even with the way the taller woman had invaded her personal space and was now nearly nose to nose with her.

“I’m not tired.”

“Liar,” Nebula says flatly. “You’ve yawned three times in the last five minutes. And you look like shit.” When Mantis frowns, Nebula amends, “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’m fine,” Mantis insists, and Nebula remains unimpressed.

“You haven’t slept in several days.” Nebula leans impossibly closer. “Why are you fighting it?”

Mantis fidgets. “I would like to spend time with you.”

Nebula blinks. “That’s why you’re driving yourself to exhaustion?”

Mantis huffs, counters, “And when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need to sleep as much as you,” she replies briskly. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your room.”

“I would rather stay up with you. I can sleep later.”

“Later when? You’ve already been up for days.”

“…later,” Mantis says. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nebula exhales noisily. “Okay. How about this—if you go to bed, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

Mantis perks up. “You’ll keep me company? In my room?”

“Yes,” Nebula confirms, “if you promise to go to sleep.”

Mantis is beaming up at her, and she reaches for Nebula’s hand but stops just short of taking it. “I’ll try,” she promises. Even her antenna are bobbing happily.

Nebula sighs, rolls her eyes. “I guess that’s a start.” She closes the gap between their hands and Mantis immediately tangles their fingers together, squeezes fondly. Her antenna start to glow softly.

Nebula shifts impatiently, avoiding Mantis’s gaze. “All right, come on already,” she grumbles, her cheeks slowly darkening.

She practically drags Mantis through the Benatar’s corridors, their hands still laced together, until they reach Mantis’s bedroom door. She seems to grow a little more uncertain at that point, hesitant, and hangs back while Mantis opens the door and then hovers uncertainly in the doorway long after Mantis enters.

Mantis glances at her. “Are you coming? Don’t be shy.”

“I’m not shy,” Nebula snaps immediately, finally stepping into the room and allowing the door to slide shut.

Mantis comes up to her, reaches for her hand again. “Are you okay? You look a little uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine. Just…it’s a little weird, being alone in your bedroom.” Absently, she pushes her hand into Mantis’s.

“It is different from our usual routine,” Mantis agrees. She rubs Nebula’s knuckles with her thumb. “Is this too much?”

“No. It’s fine. I’ll adjust. Anyways, I said I would stay until you fall asleep, so I will.”

“If you’re sure.” Slowly, she extracts her hand from Nebula’s and goes to get settled in her bed. “You can sit on my bed, if you want,” she offers, smiling a little at how Nebula stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. She looks very out of her depth.

Nebula hesitates, then slowly makes her way to the foot of Mantis’s bed and sits, very carefully, at the edge of it. She doesn’t quite seem to know what to do with herself, with her hands,  first drumming her fingers with a restless sort of energy and then, catching the way Mantis is looking at her, crosses her arms hastily across her chest.

“How are your injuries?” Mantis asks, hoping a bit of conversation will distract Nebula enough to relax a little.

“They’re fine,” Nebula says, “mostly.”

“What about your mods? I heard from Gamora you need to fix some things…”

“I’ve fixed what I can, but there are some…internal cybernetics that were damaged worse than expected. They need to be replaced, but sourcing them has been a pain.” She looks cross, and no more relaxed than before.

“I’m sure you’ll find what you need soon,” Mantis assures, and Nebula just grunts. “Sure you’re okay?” Mantis is watching her from across the bed, lying on her side, head propped on her hand.

“I’m fine. Just hurry up and go to sleep.”

Mantis snorts. “It’s not that easy to fall asleep, and especially not with you rushing me.”

“Try,” and when Mantis sticks her tongue out at her she starts to grumble. “Can’t believe you ruined your sleeping habits for such a stupid thing.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I like spending time with you. Stars no know why, though, with as big of a grouch as you are.” Nebula huffs.

“But to deprive yourself of sleep? For as long as you have?”

Mantis shrugs. “It’s not entirely your fault. I mean, it’s not, like…just because I want to stay up and spend time with you, although that is a factor. Sometimes…do you ever have trouble sleeping? When you try to sleep, I mean.”

“Occasionally,” Nebula says slowly, and when Mantis doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at her, her dark eyes unusually serious, she adds, reluctantly, “I don’t enjoy sleeping. It’s too…dangerous"—(Mantis makes a sympathetic noise here, knowing just enough of her violent upbringing to know what she means)—“but when I do, I have nightmares. Not always, but…enough.”

“I often have nightmares as well, but it’s gotten easier since joining the Guardians.”

“Nightmares about Ego?” Nebula guesses, and Mantis nods.

“I know they’re just dreams, but sometimes I wake up still thinking I’m stuck on his planet again, or that the Guardians failed and he isn’t dead. It makes it hard to sleep after, even knowing it isn’t true.”

Nebula frowns, looking like she wants to say something, like maybe she wants to comfort her, but doesn’t know how. Eventually she settles for unfolding one arm and awkwardly patting Mantis’s knee. Mantis finds the gesture touching.

“Lately—” Mantis starts, and pauses, almost second guesses herself, but she catches Nebula’s eye and the words spill out anyways. “Lately the nightmares have been about…the building collapse. The fall, and…”

“And my injuries,” Nebula finishes quietly.

“Yes,” Mantis nods, her voice barely a whisper.

“I didn’t realize how much it worried you.”

Mantis cracks a smile. “Even after I yelled at you about it?” She’s charmed by the quiet huff of laughter that elicits, and her smile widens.

“I didn’t really think about it at the time, or after,” Nebula confesses. “I was surprised you cared at all, truthfully. When Gamora first told me, I was mostly just annoyed.”

“Annoyed?” Mantis gapes at her. “You looked mangled, you ass! You coughed up blood!”

“Yeah, well, I’m fine, aren’t I? I didn’t die, and whatever my mods didn’t fix right away could be fixed later. That’s just—that’s how I thought about it, at the time.”

“I was really scared,” Mantis says quietly, and Nebula grimaces. “When I first found you, under all that rubble, you were so still…I really thought, for a minute, that you might have—that you—”

“I didn’t realize how badly it affected you.” Nebula’s voice is quiet, solemn, and she looks genuinely upset to hear how much that day had been weighing on Mantis. “You haven’t seen my mods work before.” It’s not a question, but Mantis answers like it is.

“Not like that, no.”

“It can be a rough watch, the first time.”

“Peter said the same thing, but it’s not…it wasn’t your mods themselves that freaked me out. It was…the not knowing if you were okay—still alive. And even when your mods were fixing your body it sounded so painful.”

“I’ve had worse. I’m used to the pain,” Nebula says, an attempt at assurance, but Mantis looks at Nebula with huge, sad eyes. 

“You shouldn’t have to be. I wish I could take your pain away.”

Nebula laughs very quietly. “You did, remember?”

“Yes, but…that was temporary. I wish I could take it away, forever.”

Nebula goes quiet, wishes she could reassure Mantis, but she’s never been good at comfort. Instead she says, “You really should try to sleep. You’ll feel better when you’re rested.”

Mantis smiles weakly, says, “Okay. I’ll try, since you’re so worried about it.” She giggles a little when Nebula scowls and rolls onto her back. “Look, I’m laying down, okay? I’ll try to sleep. I promise.”

“Good. Try to be quick, I’m stuck here until you do.”

“If anything, that just makes me want to stay up longer.” And when Nebula makes a face, Mantis quickly adds, “I’m kidding! Just kidding.” She sits back up again, briefly, and leans across the bed to grab Nebula’s hand, gives her a squeeze. “Thank you for staying with me. Goodnight, Nebula.”

“Goodnight, Mantis.”

When Mantis wakes up, Nebula is gone, which she had expected. That had been the deal, hadn’t it? But she is pleasantly surprised to see that Nebula had, before she left, drawn the blanket up around her shoulders and carefully tucked her in.

“You are so tense,” Mantis murmurs. “I can help you with that.”

“I told you not to read my emotions,” came Nebula’s clipped response.

“I do not have to read you to know when you are tense. It is incredibly obvious.”

Nebula cracks an eye open to glare up at Mantis.

It is profoundly ineffective, Mantis thinks, given their current position. They’re in Nebula’s bed, and Nebula is laying flat on her back, ramrod straight and hands folded stiffly across her stomach. She could almost look uncomfortable, were it not for her head resting comfortably in Mantis’s lap.

“That won’t work on me,” Mantis says lightly, smiling playfully. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Nebula huffs, shifting her arms so they were crossed sulkily across her chest, and Mantis laughs at the display.

“You almost look disappointed. Do you want me to be afraid?”

“No,” Nebula mutters, and Mantis laughs again. She skims her knuckles across Nebula’s cheek, and Nebula immediately closes her eyes and leans ever so slightly into the touch.

Nebula, Mantis had quickly realized, loved to be touched. It had been surprising, at first—she had always been so averse to physical contact for as long as Mantis had known her (which, admittedly, wasn’t that long), and only really tolerating the occasional hug from Gamora.

She was starved for it, though, and although initially resistant, as wary of Mantis’s powers as everyone else had been, she quickly gave in when she realized Mantis would, as promised, refrain from digging around in her mind and rifling through her emotions. A part of Mantis knows that the initial change of heart was mostly fueled by her perceived lack of threat, but Mantis isn’t offended. In some ways, this is probably true. Mantis has no interest in crossing that particular boundary without Nebula’s permission. Out of the other Guardians, she thinks she’s the only one who genuinely likes Nebula’s company, who doesn’t regard her with some suspicion, aside from Gamora.

Mantis doesn’t want to risk ruining this delicate thing between them, not now, especially since they’ve started—tentatively—spending their time together in the privacy of their bedrooms, away from the prying eyes of anyone who might stumble across them on a midnight snack run or bathrooom break.

“I tried to kill them all, once,” Nebula had told her when she asked. “More than once,” she amended after a moment’s thought.

“So that’s why they say you are scary, and dangerous.”

“They only say that because they are weak, and cowards.”

Mantis had traced a line down Nebula’s cheek, down the length of her neck and shoulder. “They tell me to be careful around you.”

“A fair warning.”

“They say you might stab me.”

Nebula’s gaze was neutral, blank. “Are you afraid of me?” She didn’t seem upset, Mantis thought, or even smug—more curious.

“No,” Mantis had said easily. “You’ve done nothing to make me fear you.”

“Hm,” had been Nebula’s response, her eyes shuttering close once again. And at the time Mantis had wondered if she was somehow disappointed by Mantis’s answer, but now she thinks that isn’t the case, because after that their little meetings had become more frequent until they weren’t even using the night cycle watches or supposed bouts of insomnia as an excuse to meet, until they were meeting almost nightly, cycling between each other’s rooms for some additional privacy.

That’s how they ended up where they are now, in Nebula’s room, curled up on her bed, with Mantis cradling Nebula’s head in her lap, enjoying how relaxed Nebula was even with Mantis touching her face, trusting that Mantis wouldn’t pry into her brain.

This isn’t to say they were always getting along so well, that Nebula wasn’t occasionally—often—mean, of course. Nebula is still Nebula, and Nebula is often short-tempered and rude and has little tolerance for the Guardians’ antics, and she’s certainly been rude and snappish towards Mantis. And she definitely offered up a threat of death (or at least grievous bodily harm) if Mantis so much as even thought about reading her emotions.

Mantis still wasn’t afraid.

By now she knew Nebula was all—mostly—bluster, at least when it came to the Guardians. And knew that Nebula, for all her threats and cruel reputation, wouldn’t hurt her.

She’s tracing the silvery seams of Nebula’s face, something she’s grown fond of doing on these nights they spend together, finds herself feeling grateful, for as much as Nebula liked to be touched, Mantis relished the freedom she was allowed to touch her. It was different from how she touched anyone else, or from how she wanted to touch anyone else. 

She did, however, find herself wanting, wishing, Nebula would touch her the same.

Maybe, eventually, one day, Mantis thinks. For now, this is enough.

Mantis fumbles it tonight, though, lost in thought, and she doesn’t realize it until it’s too late and she’s brushed uncomfortably across Nebula’s eye. One moment Nebula seems like she could be dozing—her eyes are closed, and then they aren’t, and Mantis finds herself abruptly looking into a pair of inky black eyes. Her fingers rest just below her brow, almost pulling on the skin there.

They could almost be mirrors of Mantis’s own eyes, she thinks. She always liked that they matched. She wondered sometimes what Nebula thought of it, what she saw when she looked at Mantis’s eyes and if it made her heart flutter the way Mantis’s did.

Eventually Mantis takes her hand away, offering a quiet, belated, “Sorry.”

Nebula doesn’t acknowledge the apology, instead saying, “It’s getting late.”

“Oh.” Mantis startles, jostling Nebula a bit in her surprise. Something crushes in her chest that their night was coming to an end, but she swallows down the disappointment. At least Nebula wasn’t being mean about kicking her out; she was usually quite a bit snappier to those who have outstayed their welcome. She starts to carefully extract herself from under Nebula. “You’re right, I suppose. I should be getting to bed—”

“Wait.” Nebula grabs her wrist, squeezing a little too tightly as she sits up. “You can stay. If you want. I just meant—you should probably get some rest. You’re up late enough as it is.”

Mantis isn’t sure she heard that right. “You’re…inviting me to stay in your room tonight?”

“Yes.”

“To…share your bed?”

“If you want.”

Mantis can’t muster up the words for a response right away. It’s hard to breathe, and her heart feels funny in her chest, tight and fluttery all at once. She doesn’t realize how long it’s been until Nebula drops her wrist and says, gruffly, “Nevermind. You don’t—”

“No!” Mantis blurts, louder than she meant to, loud enough that even Nebula startles. She sucks in a breath, tries again. “I…I would like to stay. With you. If…if you’re sure it’s okay.”

“I would not have offered if I was not.”

“Okay. Okay, yes. I—yes. I’ll stay.”

Nebula blinks, nods gruffly. Her face has started to darken a bit and Mantis finds the sight endearing, and it takes every ounce of willpower to swallow down the urge to say so, to tease her a little. She almost feels as if the smallest misstep will set them back, make Nebula retract her invitation and kick her out. She doesn’t want to ruin it.

They shuffle around each other, each claiming a side for their own. Mantis lays down slowly, carefully, settling into her half of the bed. She’s curled on her side, arms tucked close to her chest. The bed is not small, but it isn’t quite large enough to accommodate them both with room to spare. Mantis would describe it as intimate. Nebula is stiff and awkward, lying flat on her back and seemed to be doing her very best to not touch Mantis, or even come close to touching her.

Mantis brushes her fingers against Nebula’s arm. “You can relax. It’s your bed.”

Nebula slowly turns her head so they’re looking at each other. “Tonight it’s your bed too.”

Mantis feels a little thrill at her words, and she hopes it isn’t too obvious. “Well…it’s no fun if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Nebula protests, mouth twisting into a little frown.

“You’re a little uncomfortable,” Mantis says, allowing a teasing little lilt to enter her voice. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so shy all of a sudden, with how comfortable you seemed in my lap just a few minutes ago.”

“Shy?” Nebula demands, blustering. She rolls neatly onto her side so they were face to face and glares. “I’m not shy. That’s stupid, and cowardly,” she grumbles, and Mantis laughs.

“It’s not cowardly, and you were being a little shy. Is the bed sharing too much?”

“No,” Nebula says a little too quickly, and promptly looks embarrassed about it. “I wouldn’t have offered it if I was uncomfortable about the idea. Just…let me get used to it.”

Mantis makes a sympathetic sound. “If it helps, I think it’s cute how flustered you get.”

Nebula makes an indignant sound in the back of her throat and shifts closer, glaring. It’s a funny recreation of her usual intimidation tactic of shoving herself into someone’s face, but somehow, it lacks the same effect when she’s laying in bed, arms crossed petulantly across her chest and her entire face flushed warm and violet.

Mantis snorts at the display. “You’re not helping your case.”

“You’re a pain,” Nebula huffs.

“Maybe. Feeling better?” Mantis reaches to gently cup Nebula’s face with one hand and strokes her cheek with her thumb.

Nebula frowns at her, brows still scrunched up and hooded low over her eyes, looking like she’s trying very hard to keep up the irate facade, but Mantis’s fond amusement and the hand on her face eventually wins Nebula over and she breaks.

“Yes,” she admits grudgingly, beginning to lean into Mantis’s touch.

“Hah. Sucker,” Mantis teases.

“Don’t push it.”

Mantis just giggles, withdrawing her hand. Nebula immediately shifts closer, chasing her touch, and winds up pressing her forehead against Mantis’s. Mantis laughs a little bit, quietly, eyes fluttering shut as she presses even closer. “This is nice,” she murmurs.

Nebula exhales slowly, relaxing. “Yes,” she agrees, “this is nice.”

Nebula is restless by the time they reach the next planet they dock on. It had been a few weeks now she was with the Guardians, the longest uninterrupted stretch of time she’d spent with them so far, and it’s started to show. She’s been crankier than usual, more short-tempered, and though Mantis has been enjoying her presence around the ship, she also can’t blame Nebula for feeling so antsy.

The only reason she had been here so long was to more safely and comfortably recover from her injuries, and to repair her damaged cybernetics, a feat which had been delayed by the need to source suitable replacement parts, and the several detours they had to make along the way.

Mantis joins Nebula and Gamora in acquiring those replacements when they land. Normally she would have gone with Drax or Peter into the city for a supply run, but that wasn’t so enticing to her this time, and neither was staying behind while the ship was refueled.

Gamora only raised her brows when Mantis stated her intent, glancing from Mantis to Nebula, but when her sister didn’t protest she shrugged and welcomed her along.

Mantis keeps pace with Nebula, walks alongside her as they pick their way through the crowd of shoppers and sightseers. “Are you excited?” she asks eventually. “You’ll finally be able to finish your repairs.”

Nebula glances at her. “I won’t be truly satisfied until I have the parts in hand but…I am quite eager to finally get this over with.”

“Is the pain especially bad today?” Mantis suspects she knows the answer, even if Nebula won’t admit to it, but she’s walking stiffly, stomping a little heavier than usual, like she’s trying to mask the pain, or keep her failing cybernetics from acting up. Mantis remembers the leg that had nearly given out from under her, that first night she had confronted her.

“Could be worse. At least I’m mobile.”

Mantis makes a sympathetic noise, wants very badly to reach out and touch her fingers to Nebula’s, take her hand. She doesn’t, though, very aware of Gamora’s presence, and—it’s not that doesn’t think Gamora knows. For all their troubles, she knows the sisters talk, spend time together, trying to repair their own fragile relationship. She’s sure Gamora must know something, at least suspect, even if Nebula hasn’t said anything outright to her. And it’s not that she’s—she isn’t shy about it, certainly not ashamed, never—of her affection for Nebula. She just…they hadn’t been public about it yet, is all. It’s natural to feel a little…a little funny about it, about being observed, isn’t it?

Gamora has been kind about it, though, regardless of what she does or doesn’t know, hasn’t pried. At least not to Mantis; she isn’t sure what she’s said to Nebula. But Mantis appreciates Gamora’s discretion, the way she walks just a few steps ahead of them, pretending she can’t hear them, instead of walking right beside them. Or worse, a few steps behind, where she can see how closely they walk, the way Mantis’s hand twitches longingly for Nebula’s and the glances they share.

…Mantis gives in, lets her fingertips brush the back of Nebula’s hand.

It is, overall, uneventful, and they pick up the parts without issue. Nebula’s relief is palpable, even though she’s just as surly as she ever is, and Mantis hasn’t touched her to read her emotions. Nebula wants to return to the Benatar quickly, doesn’t want to wait to get started on her repairs, and it seems to take every ounce of self-restraint to not up and leave Gamora and Mantis behind.

This time, Gamora matches her pace to Mantis’s so they’re walking side by side, leaving Nebula to outpace them by several steps. Mantis feels a little spike of anxiety, which is silly, but it seems like this might be Gamora probing into their relationship, and she’s not sure if she’s ready for that. She waits for Gamora to say anything, but she doesn’t, and eventually Mantis says, “Nebula seems pleased.”

“She’ll finally be able to finish her repairs. I’m sure she’s in a rush to leave us.”

Mantis chuckles. “I think we’re all driving her a little bit crazy. She has little patience for it.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. It’s a pain trying to keep the peace sometimes. It’s been nice having her around, though.”

“I agree.”

Gamora glances at her. “You two have gotten close.”

There it is. “You noticed. How long?”

“Nebula told me after you used your powers on her. I was a little surprised she actually let you do that.”

“I was too,” Mantis admits. “It was hard enough even tracking her down to talk to her. I really thought she would just stomp off…”

“That is normally what she would do,” Gamora agrees. “You know…” She pauses, glances towards her sister, who is still easily outpacing them. “She has a soft spot for you.”

Mantis lets out a breath, not realizing she’d been holding it, waiting for Gamora to finish speaking; surprised, but also pleased. It wasn’t that she didn’t know that, hadn’t had some inkling of how deeply Nebula’s affection for her ran, over the nights they’d spent together during the ship’s night cycles, quietly watching the stars through the window as the Benatar drifted through space; with the way Nebula had started to fuss over her for not sleeping enough, the solemn way she’d reacted to learning she’d been a source of the nightmares that kept Mantis awake at night.

“We talk,” Gamora continues by way of explanation. “She nearly had a crisis about it.”

Mantis’s heart clenches, and she frowns. “Crisis?”

“Oh yes. About “going soft.” Tried to blame the funny feelings she felt on her broken mods.” Gamora smiles in that fond but mischievous way that you do when recalling a funny memory about a loved one. “You should have seen her reaction when I told her it sounded like she had developed feelings for you.”

Mantis giggles, thinking about the dramatic, exaggeratedly grouchy way Nebula responds to Mantis’s affection, to her fond teasing and the delicate brushing of their fingers. For all her bluster, as much as she protests and grumbles and scowls, Mantis knows it is all bluster. Why else would Nebula indulge her the way she did?

“I can imagine it,” Mantis says, still laughing.

“What are you two whispering about?”

Nebula has whipped around to glare at the two of them, gaze shifting from Gamora to Mantis and back again.

“Nothing, dear sister,” Gamora replies easily, smiling, amused at Nebula’s reaction. Nebula slits her eyes suspiciously.

“I don’t believe you,” Nebula says, and Gamora shrugs.

“We were talking about you,” Mantis pipes up, unable to resist, and Nebula snaps her attention to her instead, startled. “We were talking about how cute your soft spot for me is.”

Nebula’s eyes widen and Gamora makes a face like she’s trying very hard not to laugh, and she coughs not-very-discreetly into her hand in an attempt to hide it. Nebula opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, but no words come out, and the entire time Mantis is smiling sweetly at her and her face is turning a deep, dark violet. She turns on her heel and stomps off.

Mantis laughs and that sets Gamora off, too, and Gamora exclaims, “That was bold of you!”

“She’ll be mad at me later, but I can’t resist teasing her,” Mantis says, smiling. “She always gets so flustered.”

Gamora smiles at this, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I never thought I would hear my sister described as flustered.”

“She is often flustered. It is very cute.”

“I’m glad you two have gotten so close. It’s…unexpected, but in a good way.” Gamora suddenly turns serious, and asks, “Has she been treating you well?”

Mantis is a little taken aback by the question, but she supposed it isn’t entirely unwarranted. She wasn’t ignorant of Nebula’s reputation—Gamora herself had warned Mantis of how dangerous her sister could be. She supposed it was fair enough for Gamora to wonder, to want to make sure.

“She’s been very kind to me.”

Gamora can’t help the surprises that shows on her face. “That’s good, though I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised.”

“She’s not as mean as she acts,” Mantis assures. “Honestly, I think she tolerates the Guardians more than she lets on.”

“You’re proof of that alone,” Gamora chuckles. “Maybe that means she’ll visit more often.”

“I hope so,” Mantis agrees.

Gamora looks off in the direction Nebula had stomped off and sighs. “We should hurry and catch up with her before someone else sees her first and provokes her.”

“I bet it would be Drax who does it.”

“Or maybe Peter.”

“I hope not.” Mantis frowns. “I don’t think he could put up a fight long enough for us to get there to stop her.”

“Probably not. Knowing Nebula, she’d put him through a window. She’s always threatening him with that.”
“That sounds painful.”

“Mhm. We should hurry.”

With a laugh, Mantis matches Gamora’s pace as they hurry through the crowds, hoping to catch up to Nebula before she reaches the ship.

Nebula was, as expected, a little cross when Mantis caught up to her, later on the ship. Mantis finds her at the ship’s workbench, picking through the tools and muttering indignantly to herself, her face still a deep, dark violet. Mantis comes up behind her, loops her arms around Nebula’s shoulders and leans into her.
Nebula glowers at her from the corner of her eye.

“Sorry for teasing you,” Mantis murmurs. She leans her head against Nebula’s, pressing their cheeks together.

Nebula’s shoulders are stiff.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes,” Nebula says immediately. Then, “…no. Just…ugh. In front of Gamora? I can’t believe you.”

“She already knows about us,” Mantis points out, and Nebula groans.

“That doesn’t mean you had to go and say that in front of her! She’s going to make fun of me for weeks.”

“She does it out of love. Isn’t that what sisters do?” Nebula grunts, unmoved. “I’m sure you’ve made fun of her for loving Peter.”

“Quill is an imbecile. She could do better.”

“That’s mean. Peter is kind, and she loves him.”

“Whatever.”

Mantis squeezes Nebula’s shoulders. “Don’t be mad. I’ll make it up to you.”

Nebula eyes her, but her soft spot wins out, eventually, and she mutters grudgingly, “It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“You’re sweet,” Mantis says, and presses a kiss to Nebula’s cheek. Nebula makes a startled noise, twists her head to stare at Mantis, eyes wide, and—oh, Mantis supposes that must have been the first time she’s kissed Nebula.

“I’ll leave you to work on your mods,” Mantis says eventually, and Nebula finally snaps out of her stunned silence.

“You can stay, if you want,” Nebula says. “I would like you to.”

Mantis smiles and holds her closer.

In the nights that follow, Mantis learns that Nebula is, as in all aspects Mantis had witnessed prior, incredibly intense. Intense and possessively clingy. Needy, if Mantis is in a teasing mood.

They’re in Mantis’s room tonight, sprawled out in bed together. They’ve been dozing lazily, enjoying each other’s presence while Nebula takes a break from her repairs. Nebula is pressed into her back, arms looped around Mantis’s waist. Her face is tucked into the crook of Mantis’s shoulder, and she is shockingly still. One might think she was asleep, but Mantis was certain she wasn’t.

She wriggles in Nebula’s grip. “Hey. Nebula.” She pats Nebula’s forearm lightly. “I know you’re awake.”

The sheets rustle and Nebula stirs, mutters out a quick “hm?”

“I want to change into my sleep clothes. Let me up.”

She makes a disgruntled noise and doesn’t move. Mantis pats her arm a little more insistently. “I’ll be quick. The sooner you let me up, the sooner we can go back to doing this.” When Nebula still doesn’t move, Mantis hits her arm. “I’ll keep pestering your until you let go.”

Nebula groans, annoyed, and Mantis is amused at how dramatic she’s being. It’s funny—Nebula had always been a little dramatic when it came to fighting and combat and yelling and just being angry and mean. This was dramatic in a different, much funnier way.

“You should change too,” Mantis suggests. “You are spending the night in my room, right? You’ll be more comfortable if you change.”

Nebula finally uncurls herself from around Mantis and sits up, still looking vaguely displeased at being disrupted.

Mantis pats her hand and says, “Thank you.” She rifles through her drawers from tonight’s sleepwear. “Did you bring your sleep clothes?”

“Left them in my room. Suppose I should go get them.”

The bedsheets rustle as she stretches and then stands. Mantis asks, “Do you want to borrow some of mine? I’m sure I have something to spare.”

Nebula only pauses for a second. “Sure,” she says, and Mantis suspects she might have only agreed simply because it would get them back in bed faster, and without having to make the trek to Nebula’s room and back.

Mantis grabs a shirt and a pair of shorts for herself, and then another set for Nebula. “Here,” she tosses them over her shoulder. Then she starts to change, careful to keep her back to Nebula until they’re both done. They’re not quite at that level yes, she doesn’t think, and it’s the polite thing to do.

“Done,” Nebula says after a minute. She’s still facing the other way when Mantis turns around.

“Me too,” Mantis says, and Nebula finally turns to face her.

The clothes fit well, Mantis thinks, if a bit short, given the several inches of height Nebula has on her. The shirt lifts a little when she moves, exposing a bit of her midsection each time. There’s a fluttery little swooping sensation in Mantis’s stomach at the sight of Nebula wearing her clothes, and she smiles a little bit. “You look good. Is it comfortable?”

An embarrassed sort of look flickers across Nebula’s face, and her cheeks darken a little. “It’s fine. Thanks.”

It happens again as they’re settling into bed, the shirt lifting as Nebula gets comfortable, and Mantis can’t resist reaching out and touching the exposed skin of her abdomen.

Nebula straightens on contact, eyes snapping up to Mantis’s, and Mantis briefly wonders if perhaps that was a bit too forward. They stare at each other for a beat, black eyes staring into black. Then Nebula snakes her arms around Mantis’s waist and pulls her close, close enough that Mantis’s antenna brush across Nebula’s forehead, and Nebula’s breath tickles her hairline and scatters loose strands of hair across Mantis’s face. Feeling bolder, Mantis slides her hands under the shirt and further up Nebula’s belly.

Nebula inhales sharply, stares at Mantis with those pretty dark eyes with that thrilling intensity, quivering very slightly under Mantis’s hands which are very warm against her skin.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” Nebula’s voice is strangely strangled.

Mantis studies her face, searching her expression for any sign of discomfort.

“Your pulse is racing,” she observes.

“Mhm.”

Mantis considers this, Nebula’s response and the strange tone her voice has taken; the way that her face has darkened into a deep, unfamiliar violet and how hard she swallows, all while Mantis’s hands are still huddled under the fabric of her (of Mantis’s) shirt. She wonders if she should say something else.

Instead, she slides one hand across Nebula’s belly, up her side along her ribs.

Nebula exhales slowly, carefully, minutely, relaxing into Mantis’s touch.

“I hadn’t expected you to be so forward,” she says finally.

“Is that bad?”

“No.” She stares at Mantis with a fresh, hungry sort of intensity. “I think I like it.”

Mantis smiles. “Good.”

Mantis is curled up on Nebula’s bed, watching her pack the sparse belongings she’d kept on the Benatar while recovering with the Guardians. She didn’t keep much in the room Gamora had set aside for her, but she had enough to warrant packing, at least. Mostly weapons, and a set of tools and general maintenance supplies, a few changes of clothes. Some leftover bits and bobs and spare parts now that her repairs were taken care of.

She’s rifling through her drawers for her clothes when she says, “This is yours,” holding up the shirt and shorts Mantis had lent her a few nights ago.

“Keep them,” Mantis says, a little too quickly she thinks, from the way Nebula blinks at her.
“You’ll be down a set.”

Mantis shrugs. “I can buy more.”

“Hm.” Nebula frowns, but slowly adds the clothing into her bag with the rest of her belongings. Then: “Here.”

Nebula tosses something over her shoulder at her, and Mantis’s hands come up to catch it before she can even register what it is. It’s soft, and she quickly realizes it’s clothing. She unwads the bundle and recognizes it as…sleep clothes. Not the set Nebula had borrowed (just been gifted), but her own set. Mantis had seen her wear this exact set over the nights they’d spent together.

“What’s this?”

Nebula snorts. “Clothes, idiot.”

“I can see that,” Mantis grumbles. “That is very clearly not what I meant.”

Nebula rolls her eyes. “Trade you. This way you won’t be down a set. Toss ’em if you don’t them, I don’t care.”

Mantis curls her hands around the shirt and shorts and holds them to her chest, away from Nebula as if she might snatch them back.

“I’m not going to toss them. That would be rude. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well…get over it. Don’t make it weird,” she says gruffly, in a tone of voice Mantis knew by now meant she was flustered, and trying very hard not to show it.

She swallows her amusement down, deciding that giving in and laughing would perhaps be the wrong move. She’s teased her enough.

By now, Nebula has finished packing. It was time to go.

The walk to the hangar is slow, not in a leisurely sort of way, but slow in the way that they’re trying very hard to wring out what little time together they have left.

“I’ll miss you,” Mantis says, breaking the silence. “It was nice to have you around.”

Nebula blinks, hesitantly reaches one hand to touch Mantis’s, and Mantis immediately laces their hands together. “I enjoyed our time together,” she says. “I’ll…I’ll visit again.”

Mantis smiles. “That would be nice. I know Gamora would like that, too.” She squeezes Nebula’s hand fondly. “Be careful, okay?”

The corner of Nebula’s mouth twitches slightly. “I’ll try my best.”

“If you do get hurt…come back to us, okay? You can stay in my room.”

Nebula lets out a little huff of laughter. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Ending Notes:

N/A