just to be quiet with you

Status: Complete
Published: 14 August 2023 (Original), 33 March 2026 (2026 edit)
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,958
Rating: Teen & Up
Tags: Mantis/Nebula (Marvel), Mantis (Marvel), Nebula (Marvel)

AO3 Mirror

Original version

Opening Notes:

So, this is the 2026 edit of this fic. I was mostly happy with it, but I wanted to revisit it and see if I could make some updates to it to help the flow, and maybe add an extra scene or two.

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

It was a mission gone wrong (didn’t they all?) when their mark decided self-destruction would be a better outcome, a final hail Mary from a man who did not want to be caught and was perhaps hoping to take them out with him.

That’s when their plans 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 sudden 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 learns wasn’t her own body breaking, but something in Nebula’s. She groans—or, tries to. The impact had crushed all the air from her lungs. She lays there for several long moments, trying to gather the strength to do anything, 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, sides—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 all the dust and debris  and 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 pushes up, somewhat jerky, and 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 her. 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’s eyes lock on something above them. Her hand tightens around Mantis’s upper arm and then, with a painful wrench, 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 for a second time in just a few short minutes. She hears a terrible crashing from where she’d been just moments ago, a strangled scream, and then nothing.

She only blacked out for a few minutes, she’s pretty sure. She almost wishes it had been longer, because as soon as she realizes she’s awake again the pain comes rushing back, crashing over her like a wave, and all she wants to do is slip back into unconsciousness to not feel it anymore.

Instead, 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 wet, and when she checks, she finds it gashed open and dripping blood, bits of rubble and grit in the wound. It 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 with the arm that isn’t bleeding, and ow, that arm radiates a dull pain from her shoulder, where Nebula had wrenched it while throwing her to safety, when she—

Oh god. Nebula.

The fog in her brain starts to clear and the memory of what has just happened, where she has just been—where Nebula still was—hits her and suddenly Nebula is all she can think about. Mantis lurches for where she was, where she should be. She picks her way around the debris, chunks of flooring and ceiling and 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…yes, I—”

“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, ignoring the stinging in her hands.

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

She’s only half-listening. She heaves a chunk of flooring (or maybe it was wall?) away and—fingers. Blue. Nebula’s.

“Mantis—”

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

“What’s going on? Mantis?”

Mantis heaves another huge slab of debris 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, god,” she breathes, because now she can see how Nebula’s arm is twisted and the way her chest has caved in.

“Mantis? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Mantis—”

“Nebula, she’s injured,” Mantis gasps. “I don’t—”

“We’re coming, Bug. 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 snap 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. The abruptness of it makes Mantis let out a little shriek. It sounds so painful—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 had taken. How she was even still alive was, well…Mantis knew she sported intensive cybernetic mods, but this…she never could have imagined—

Nebula shoves her away, barks, “Back off and shut up. You’re freaking yourself out.” Her voice is raspy and harsh, but she doesn’t speak meanly.

It isn’t until then that Mantis realizes how hard she was shaking, how hard she was breathing. Her pulse was racing. She doesn’t think her heart had ever beat this fast before.

“N-Nebula…you…you’re—”

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

But Mantis doesn’t. She can’t tear her eyes away. 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 in her chest, pops back into place, and Nebula coughs, spits a clot of purplish blood onto the ground, and Mantis’s heartbeat spikes again. Eventually all that’s left are her legs, pinned by more rubble, and with one last impatient jerk, Nebula finally wrenches herself free.

As soon as her legs repair themselves Nebula moves to stand, wobbles a bit, and Mantis snaps 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 move quicker than they probably should, or at least, they try to. More accurately, Nebula tries to. Mantis can feel how badly she wants to rush from the ruins of the building, but even Nebula can only push herself so hard in the state she’s in.

“Easy,” Mantis says, “you’re hurt.”

“We need to get out of here,” Nebula snaps. “It’s dangerous.”

“I’m hurt too. Maybe not as bad as you, but—”

Nebula pauses, brow furrowed, and looks at Mantis as if she’s only just realized this. “Right,” she mutters, looking away. “Fine.”

She doesn’t say anything more, but she stops trying to drag them both out of the building’s remains as fast as she can. She lets Mantis set the pace, and they slowly—carefully—pick their way through the mess together.

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, which sets an already irate Nebula off. She snaps at her sister, swats at her hands as Gamora reaches for her, but it’s all half-hearted; more for show than anything. Nebula’s too roughed up to put up a fight about it.

Mantis is silent as Gamora fusses over her sister. As she does, Peter sidles up to Mantis and quietly asks, “You okay, Bug?” 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 digging in 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. He 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 forces a chuckle, 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 wonders what she must look like, covered in dust and soot and dirt and blood. She 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 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 bones snap back into place like that’s a little freaky, huh? If I remember right, I’m pretty sure I got freaked out the first time I saw it too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It is kind of freaky! And, well, I was kind of scared shitless of how I was gonna tell Gamora her sister got mangled. Like, how are you even supposed to break that to someone—well, anyways. Not the point.” He shakes his head. “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.” He scratches at his head, frowning. “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,” 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. Gonna need a medpack, though. You want to 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, nodding at Gamora. “I’d offer to help, but I think your sister might murder me if I do, 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 first learns about it 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.”

Gamora had sighed loudly in agreement, and Mantis had wandered away at that point, feeling guilty for eavesdropping even though she hadn’t intended to, and she chews on the information she had learned.

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 and the way she’d 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 wellbeing 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.

She doesn’t realize right away that Nebula is avoiding her. If she had left when she originally planned to, Mantis probably wouldn’t have noticed at all. Nebula often came and went without warning, only sparing a goodbye for Gamora, and even when she was with the Guardians, she wasn’t exactly social. She preferred keeping her distance most of the time.

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. She hadn’t seen Nebula in days, not 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.

Finding Nebula is like the galaxy’s most frustrating scavenger hunt, and the other Guardians are barely any help. Nobody had noticed anything particularly odd or different from usual. Nebula going out of her way to avoid them wasn’t unusual, but she was still around. Maybe someone caught a glimpse of her, or heard her rummaging around the workbench for tools, but Mantis seemed to just keep missing her, no matter how hard she tried. It was starting to seem like she was avoiding Mantis in particular, and the thought sits like a heavy weight in her chest.

She follows the sound of clattering into the common area one night, hoping that maybe it would be Nebula, but she finds Rocket instead, rummaging around the workbench, shoving all manner of spare parts and gears and wires and other little bits and bobs around. “Where are my damn tools!” he shouts at no one in particular. Then he whips around and jabs a claw at Mantis. “Have you seen my tools?” he demands.

“Um, no? Sorry,” Mantis says, and Rocket makes a frustrated sound as he turns away, fur bristling in agitation.

“You’re as much help as Drax,” he mutters, pulling drawers out.

“Rocket’s tools have gone missing,” Drax says helpfully, drawing another aggravated growl from Rocket. He’s sitting on the couch, polishing one of his knives and not looking at all bothered by Rocket’s antics.

“Oh. I see,” Mantis says. “Have you seen Nebula?”

“No,” Rocket snaps. He drags a box of clutter out from under the workbench and starts digging through it. Mantis leaves him to it.

“Perhaps she got lost in the ship and succumbed to her wounds,” Drax suggests, not looking up from his task.

“I don’t think—” Mantis starts, but Rocket cuts in,

“The ship isn’t that big, you idiot.”

“And Nebula’s injuries aren’t that bad,” Mantis says, frowning. “If they were, surely Gamora would have said something by now…”

“Perhaps Gamora did not know how bad her injuries were,” Drax says.

Mantis pauses. She doesn’t think that’s the case, but it would be just like Nebula to downplay how bad it was. She shakes her head. No, she had heard Gamora talking about it, a little. Surely she knew how bad it was?

“Sounds like something she would do,” Rocket mutters. “Did you ask Gamora?”

“No, not yet.”

“Ask her, then. If anyone knows where Nebula crawled off to, it’d be Gamora.”

He’s right, of course. Even Drax can agree with that. And, yeah, Mantis probably should have asked Gamora first. So, that’s what she’ll do. She thanks Rocket and Drax for their help (even if they weren’t really that helpful) and makes her way out of the common area.

“And if you see my tools,” Rocket calls after her, “tell me!”

Fortunately for Mantis, Gamora is easier to find in the ship than Nebula is. Mantis finds her in the cockpit, listening to music, and asks her 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 nice her comings or goings enough to tell.”

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

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

“I…I’m trying to find her.”

“Why?”

Mantis hesitates. Gamora’s stare turns suspicious the longer it takes Mantis to answer. Finally, she admits, “I…I want to apologize.”

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

“Yes. 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. Her expression softens just a little bit. “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 wasn’t my fault, I still want to apologize. And thank her.”

“Mantis…”

“Is she mad at me?” Mantis blurts, 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 could barely tolerate? 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 again, she just shakes her head and says, “If she doesn’t want to be found, you should just leave her be. She’ll come out of hiding when she’s finished sulking.”

“So she is mad?” 

Gamora can only offer up a sympathetic look and say, “I’m sorry, Mantis. She’s stubborn.”

And, well…Gamora isn’t wrong. That is just like Nebula, isn’t it? This probably wasn’t anything new for Nebula, and Gamora of all people would know. But even so, Mantis isn’t satisfied with that answer, so she tries to find her again.

Mantis leaves the cockpit and considers her next move.

The medbay is too obvious a room to hole up in, Mantis determines, and so is the barely-used bedroom that Gamora had set aside for her (though Mantis still checks both just to be sure), and she isn’t in the hangar or in her ship. Mantis checks the cargo bay and still she finds no sign of Nebula.

She hunts through the ship’s halls at all hours, even deep into the night cycle, hunts in the furthest, loneliest corners of the Benatar. She 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 is so very, obnoxiously, stubbornly, frustratingly good at not being found.

Mantis thinks she might shake her when she finally does.

In the end, she finds Nebula almost on accident. Mantis is doing another lap through the Benatar’s halls and, somehow, manages to intercept Nebula on the way to the common area. Nebula stiffens immediately, face twisting angrily.

“Finally!” Mantis exclaims, and Nebula makes an irritated sound.

“You are obnoxiously persistent,” she grits out, and then it was Mantis’s turn to be upset.

“So you have been avoiding me! Why?” Mantis demands. All this time Mantis had been so guilty, so worried for Nebula and just wanted to see if she was okay—and Nebula had been avoiding her like she was some pest. She was so…!

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

Mantis feels a spike of annoyance at Nebula’s attempt to dance around her question, but as aggravated as she was becoming, she tries to swallow it down. “I…wanted to see for myself if you were okay. And to apologize?”

Nebula’s eyes narrowed. “What could you possibly have to apologize for? We don’t spend
any time together for you to do anything warranting 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 the ceiling collapsed,” Mantis says haltingly. “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 would have been to let you be crushed, and my sister would not have been pleased if one of her friends died on my watch.”

“She wouldn’t have been pleased if her sister died, either!” Mantis exclaims, and Nebula shakes her head.

“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!” Mantis protests. “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 rises like bile, and she can hear it starting to seep into her voice. Why did Nebula have to be so difficult?

Nebula exhales sharply, impressively managing to sound incredibly annoyed even just doing that. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to be around you! I don’t want to sit here 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 even 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.”

“Warned you? 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. She lurches like she’s going to stumble, but catches herself. Mantis springs forward 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.

Another beat, and then Nebula sighs. “Yes,” she 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.

Mantis shifts, restless, nervous. “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. She warns, “Don’t go digging around in my brain, got it? I don’t want you snooping around in my emotions.” Her voice takes on a hard edge again, harsh, 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 touching her fingertips to Mantis’s open palm as if she were a particularly unpleasant or dangerous beast. Mantis pulls her hand closer as soon as she makes contact, placing her free hand on top and sandwiching Nebula’s hand between her own. Her antenna begin to glow softly, and Nebula becomes away of something prodding gently at her mind.

Nebula tenses immediately 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 makes a face at this, but she 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, slowly at first, and then suddenly it 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 start to slide shut and her breathing evens out.

She’s faintly aware of the pain, still. It throbs lightly, distantly, 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 sooth the pain and tension in 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 rubbing gentle circles into her knuckles.

“How do you feel?” Mantis asks quietly.

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

That’s how it starts.

After that encounter in the corridor, Nebula stops avoiding her, which Mantis appreciates. More surprising though, is that Nebula even starts to seek her out from time to time. She doesn’t ask Mantis to use her powers on her again—and frankly doesn’t seem like she would let Mantis even if she offered—but she seems more receptive to Mantis’s presence despite that, which Mantis finds she likes quite a bit, once she got over her initial confusion.

“Do you want me to soothe your pain?” she had asked, the first time Nebula sought her out, finding her on the bridge watching the stars drift past one night.

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

“Oh. Okay.” And though she had been a little bewildered (because what other reason could she have for seeking Mantis out?), the awkward tension had soon dissipated, and they lapsed 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.

It’s…nice, Mantis decides.

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?” Mantis peers at the steaming mug.

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

Mantis is surprised Nebula had noticed. That was unexpected. She feels something warm blooming in her belly and spreading throughout her body, something that can’t be attributed to the coffee Nebula had brought her. “Oh, thank you. It’s 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 has ever tasted. It was made even better knowing that it was Nebula who got it for her, unprompted.

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 into her seat, holding the mug close to her chest.

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

“Just a little bit, really,” Mantis says. “Mostly some bruising, and the cut on my arm. 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 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 when she finds her, 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 her leg, resting her cheek on Nebula’s 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, but then she sighs and eventually mutters, “It’s fine. You can stay like that if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care. Do what you want.” She pauses, and then adds, “But I still don’t believe it’s better than the floor.”

“It’s much better!” Mantis insists, with a huff of laughter. She laughs again, louder, when Nebula side-eyes her crossly.

Mantis lets her head fall back against Nebula’s leg, her laughter subsiding into softer giggles. She closes her eyes and enjoys the moment.

The next time Mantis tries to keep Nebula company during the night-cycle, it’s maybe the third or fourth day she’s gone with minimal sleep, and Nebula, unfortunately, takes one look at her and clocks it 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 it.

“I’m not tired,” Mantis protests.

“Liar,” Nebula says flatly. “You’re exhausted. 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 unconvinced and 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 back to bed, I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

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

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

Mantis beams 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 distance between their hands and Mantis immediately tangles their fingers together, squeezes fondly. Nebula looks a little surprised, but doesn’t pull away. Mantis’s antenna start to glow softly.

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

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 she hands back when 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.” She means that last past teasingly,  but it only makes Nebula bristle

“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, who pretends she doesn’t notice how Nebula grows minutely more at ease when they touch.

“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,” Nebula says. “Anyways, I said I would stay until you fall asleep, so I will.”

“If you’re sure.” Slowly, Mantis 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 with 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 and 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,” Nebula orders, 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 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 do try 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. She knows enough about Nebula’s violent upbringing to know what that means. “And 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 incredibly 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 seems 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 freaks me out. It was—the not knowing if you were okay, or 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.”

Nebula grumbles a little bit, but she says, “Goodnight, Mantis.”

When Mantis wakes up, Nebula is gone, which she had expected. That had been the deal, hadn’t it? Despite that, it still left her with a strange feeling of disappointment.

And yet…she is pleasantly surprised to see that Nebula had, before she left, drawn the blanket up around Mantis’s shoulders, and carefully tucked her in.

The Guardians are still taking jobs in between all of this, of course. The Galaxy goes on, and things don’t stop needing to be done just because a building collapsed on Mantis and Nebula.

They’ve stopped to follow up on a lead for their latest job. It’s a small planet, but it’s a good excuse to get off the ship and stretch your legs. The Benatar is nice, but it it’s nice to be planetside every once in a while.

Normally Mantis is always excited to leave the Benatar and explores whatever city on whatever planet they’ve landed on, but this time she decides to stay on the ship.

The Guardians had…looked at her funny, when she told them she wouldn’t join them in the city this time. Mantis had shrugged and said something about not feeling well, just wanting to rest, and though they didn’t press…they didn’t exactly seem convinced by excuse.

Still, they let her be.

As soon as the Guardians depart, Mantis goes looking for Nebula. She finds her at the workbench again, pawing through the toolkit. Mantis has barely stood in the doorway for a a few moments when Nebula says, “What?”

“Hi to you too, jerk,” Mantis replies, teasing, and at the sound of her voice Nebula glances briefly over her shoulder at her before returning to her task. “Working on your arm again?”

Nebula grunts, annoyed. Mantis knows it isn’t directed at her. Nebula’s arm has been giving her a trouble since the building collapse, and despite her best efforts she hasn’t had much luck repairing whatever it was that was wrong with it, and she has so far refused to let Rocket take a look at it, despite his offer.

Nebula is, as Mantis has learned, frustratingly stubborn.

“Can I join you?” Mantis asks, already making her way into the room.

“You can do what you want,” is Nebula’s response, and that’s as good an invitation as any.

Although Nebula is still gruff and grumbly and a perpetual grouch, Mantis is slowly learning to tell the difference between the genuine dangerous anger, and the facade Nebula puts up to avoid admitting she actually has any emotions outside of angry and murderous. There’s a crack forming in her facade, Mantis has realized, as Nebula has slowly become incrementally more tolerant of…well, all of them, really. Everyone that isn’t Gamora.

But mostly Mantis.

Sometimes, Mantis even dares to think Nebula has formed just the tiniest little hint of a soft spot for her.

With a grin, Mantis takes a seat beside Nebula. She has an assortment of tools spread around her, and her left arm—the fully cybernetic one—is laid out in front of her. A panel in the forearm has been flipped open to expose its mechanical innards. Mantis watches as she selects a tool and starts to prod around, assessing. She moves her arm slowly, deliberately, as she does, testing the response of the wrist or fingers, and then pokes around some more.

“Rocket is still looking for his missing tools,” Mantis says eventually, after a few minutes of silence. Nebula flexes her fingers; the motion is awkwardly slow and jerky. She doesn’t reply. “You haven’t seen them, have you?”

“No,” Nebula says in a way that means she almost certainly has. She rotates her wrist and makes a face when the gesture elicits a quiet grinding sound.

“I suppose he’ll have to keep looking then,” Mantis say indulgently.

“I suppose he will.”

Mantis clears a small space among the tools and stretches across the table, resting her head on folded arms and getting comfortable. She watches Nebula work with intent fascination. Mantis has learned a lot since being welcomed into the strange little family that was the Guardians, but mechanical repairs like this or for the ship or…anything, really, wasn’t something she had a lot of practical experience with. She’d watched them—Rocket, mostly, but sometimes Peter or Gamora, too—work on the ship before, but so far the main focus had been on getting her combat skills up to speed, and—more excitingly—really testing and pushing the limits of her powers now that she wasn’t living under Ego’s thumb.

She sees Nebula glance at her from the corner of her eye, and Mantis explains, “I like watching Rocket work on his inventions, or when he does repairs around the ship. He still won’t let me help, though. Says I need to practice with something smaller first, so I don’t blow something up.”

“You don’t need to mess with the ship to blow something up,” Nebula mutters. “With all the explosives he leaves around the ship, it’s a wonder no one’s exploded yet.” Mantis giggles at this.

“Peter said he’s start me how to do basic repairs around the ship, but we haven’t gotten around to starting yet.”

Nebula makes a short, thoughtful sound.

Suddenly she starts to prod Mantis into an upright position, freeing up space on the table. “Up,” Nebula orders, in that curt way of hers.

“Wha—hey!” Mantis protests, making a face. “Stop it—what are you—”

“Here.” Nebula shifts, turning her body to face Mantis a little more head-on, and lays her mechanical arm out on the table in front of her. With her other arm, she offers Mantis a tool. “You want to learn? Learn now.”

Mantis feels an electric shock of surprise, and she can only stare at Nebula, wide-eyed. “What?”

Nebula makes an impatient noise and waves the tool at her. “You want to learn, right? You want to practice? Here. Practice on my arm.”

Still, Mantis hesitates. “But—but what if I break something?”

Now it’s Nebula’s turn to stare. “It’s already damaged. It’s been damaged. You cannot possibly damage it more.”

“It’s damaged but it—it’s still functional,” Mantis protests, and adds, “…mostly,” at the face Nebula makes.

Nebula’s face twists, and she looks like she is trying very hard not to let her frustration show. Instead, she sighs loudly and says through clenched teeth, “I’ll be guiding you. You will not break it more. And even if you did, it’s fine because it is already damaged and may need to be entirely replaced anyways.”

Her expression becomes stern. “Take the tool.”

Although still a little uncertain, Mantis finally accepts the tool. Nebula relaxes just a tiny bit. “Good.” Nebula looks around, scanning the items scattered across the table before selecting a small flashlight. She clicks it on and points it into the open panel of her forearm. “Okay, listen carefully…”

Mantis has no idea what she’s doing, but Nebula is…patient isn’t exactly the right word, but it’s probably the closest to patient she’s ever been as she directs Mantis. The corner of her mouth even twitches into an almost-smile when the tool slips in Mantis’s hand and jabs at some component in Nebula’s arm, making her fingers spasm.

“Sorry!” Mantis squeaks, embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” Nebula says. “Make an adjustment—there. Good.” Nebula flexes her fingers, testing, considering. Then they make another adjustment, and she tests again. They continue like this for a few more tiny adjustments, a few more tests. At one point, they pry out a small metal shard that had gotten jammed somewhere. It’s slow going, but if Nebula is bothered, she doesn’t show it.

“Why did you stay behind?”

Mantis looks up. “Hm?”

“When the others went into the city. Why did you stay behind?”

“Oh.” Mantis shrugs. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

“That’s why?”

“Don’t start,” Mantis groans. “We’ve been over this before.”

“About how you like spending time with me.”

“Yes. I know it must be shocking given how frustrating and grouchy you are—” 

Nebula rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“—but I do enjoy our time together. And,” she adds, a little less teasing now, and a little more hopeful instead, “perhaps the feeling is mutual…?”

Nebula’s brows scrunch a little bit lower over her eyes, and she is very careful not to look at Mantis. “Your company is not…unpleasant.”

Mantis laughs. It’s an abrupt, almost harsh laugh, enough so that it makes Nebula jerk her head around to stare at her, but Mantis couldn’t help it. Nebula’s begrudging affection was just too funny, and almost…charming, if Mantis was being generous.

But mostly it was funny.

“Well!” she says, still laughing. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m unpleasant.”

“You are remarkably more tolerable than the rest of those idiots,” Nebula says. “I don’t understand how Gamora puts up with them.”

“They’re not so bad.” Nebula snorts. “No, really!” Mantis insists. “They have been kind to me. It is nice to have people who care.”

Nebula grunts, unconvinced, but she doesn’t argue. Instead she holds up her arm, checking the wrist and the fingers, the movement and the responsiveness. It moves…a little bit better, maybe. Not as stiffly as before, but Mantis can tell Nebula is still having some trouble with it, which isn’t surprising. Nebula likely forwent progress on her arm to let Mantis poke around in her arm.

Mantis feels a little bad about that, but Nebula still seems surprisingly unbothered. “Sorry we couldn’t make any progress on your arm.”

Nebula glances at her. “We made some progress.”

“I barely did anything. I might have broken your arm more.” She adds a little bit of a playful lilt to her voice, joking even though she doesn’t really feel like that’s wrong.

“You did fine,” Nebula says. “And like I told you, my arm was already broken. It wasn’t going to get much worse.”

“If you say so.” The corner of Mantis’s mouth pulls into a smile. “Thank you for letting me mess with your arm.”

“Sure. We can practice more some other time, if you’d like.” She doesn’t look at Mantis, tries to act dismissive as she starts to clear the workbench’s surface, like she doesn’t care, even though the offer alone is proof enough that she does.

Nebula slinks off soon after, and Mantis decides to go through Peter’s music again. She likes going through all the songs, trying each one out and deciding which ones she likes and which ones she doesn’t. It’s satisfying, figuring it out, picking favorites and unfavorites. It makes her feel like an actual person.

Later, when the Guardians return, they ask her how she is, how she’s feeling. Peter nods his approval at the song that’s playing when they return, saying, “That’s a good one,” and Mantis even thinks she hears Gamora humming along as she walks past. “How ya feeling, Bug? Did you rest up?”

“Better,” Mantis says, smiling. “Much better.”

“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 room, in Nebula’s bed. Mantis has curled up comfortably, back resting against the wall, and Nebula is…well. Nebula is laying flat on her back, ramrod straight and hands folded stiffly across her stomach. She almost looks uncomfortable, but she’s got her head in Mantis’s lap, and she lets Mantis cradle her face with her hands, so Mantis is pretty sure she’s more relaxed than she seems.

She doubts Nebula would put herself in this position if she wasn’t.

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

Nebula huffs, shifting to cross her arms 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 strokes her thumb across Nebula’s cheek, and Nebula immediately closes her eyes and leans in the touch.

Nebula, Mantis has quickly learned, loved to be touched. It had been surprising, at first. In the (admittedly short) time that Mantis had known her, Nebula had always been so averse to any kind of physical contact, no matter how small. She only ever really tolerated the occasional hug from Gamora, and even then she had to fight it, put up the act that she hated it.

She was starved for it, though.

So much so that her initial resistance—as wary of Mantis’s powers as everyone else had been—had come undone the instant she realized Mantis could be trusted not to probe into her brain, wouldn’t use her powers against her. Nebula didn’t just tolerate it, either, but practically sought it out. She liked it, though she wouldn’t ever come right out and admit it. She still tried to act like she was simply tolerating Mantis’s touchiness for Mantis’s sake.

Mantis didn’t mind. It was funny, and kind of cute, in an exasperating sort of way, and it gave Mantis something else to tease her with.

More importantly, it pleases her that Nebula trusts her enough to allow it. Out of the other Guardians, she thinks she might be the only one who genuinely likes Nebula, and enjoys her company, aside from Gamora, and Mantis has no desire to ruin this delicate thing between them, especially not now that they’re no longer exclusively spending time together in the common areas.

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

“So that’s why they said you are scary and dangerous,” Mantis had responded, with a hint of a smile.

“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 told me to be careful around you.”

“A fair warning.”

“They said you might stab me.”

Nebula had looked up at her, expression neutral, blank. “Are you are afraid of me?” She didn’t seem upset, Mantis thought, or even smug at the possibility of Mantis’s fear. She seemed…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. At the time, Mantis had wondered if she was somehow disappointed by Mantis’s answer, but now she’s quite certain that isn’t the case, because after this, 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. Soon—very soon—they were meeting almost nightly, cycling between each other’s rooms for some additional privacy.

So, 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’s hands all over her, trusting that Mantis wouldn’t pry into her brain.

It was nice to be so trusted.

Still, 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 she has little tolerance for the Guardians’ antics. And she’s certainly been rude and snappish towards Mantis, too. She’s even 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 Nebula was all (well, okay, mostly) bluster, at least when it came to the Guardians. For someone with so little patience, Nebula had a surprising amount of restraint even when they bothered her. Mantis knew that Nebula, for all her anger and threats and cruel reputation, wouldn’t hurt her.

She’s tracing the silvery seams of Nebula’s face now, an act she’s grown fond of on these nights they spend together. She’s 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.

It was special. Intimate.

She only wished Nebula would touch her the same. Maybe, eventually, one day, she would. For now, Mantis thinks, this is enough.

As Mantis laments this, still distractedly stroking Nebula’s face, her hand slips and her fingers brush roughly across Nebula’s eye, pulling uncomfortably at the skin there. 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.

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

Nebula’s face scrunches a little. Her lip has curled slightly, baring the slightest hint of teeth, and she lets out an annoyed huff. It’s only then that Mantis snaps out of it, and she finally 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 in her surprise. Something crushes in her chest, a heaviness sinking in at the realization that their night was coming to an end, but she swallows down her disappointment. At least Nebula wasn’t being mean about kicking her out; she was usually quiet a bit snappier than those who have outstayed their welcome. She starts to extract herself from under Nebula, her knees knocking against Nebula’s back, eliciting some muttered complaints. “You’re right, I suppose. I should be getting to bed—”

Nebula blinks, frowning, and grabs her wrist, squeezing a little too tightly as she sits up. “Wait. 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 heard 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. Her face has started to darken a little bit and Mantis finds the sight endearing. It takes every ounce of willpower to bite down on the urge to say so, to tease her a little bit. She almost feels as if the smallest misstep will set them back, make Nebula retract her invitation and kick her out. Mantis will not ruin this.

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 still 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 turns her head so they’re looking at each other. “Tonight it’s your bed too.” Her voice sounds a little funny.

Mantis feels a little thrill at Nebula’s 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 lilt to enter her voice. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so shy all of a sudden, not 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. It is incredibly ineffective, given now all Mantis can think of is how close much closer they are. “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 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 is hot.

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 annoyed facade, but Mantis’s fond amusement and the hand on her cheek 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 their foreheads knock together. “Ow,” Mantis laughs, and Nebula has the decency to look apologetic.

Nebula starts to pull away, but Mantis touches her jaw and pulls her back in until their foreheads touch again, more gently this time. “This is nice,” Mantis murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as she presses close.

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

Nebula is restless by the time they reach the next planet they’re to dock on. She had been with the Guardians for a few weeks now, 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—which is saying a lot because it’s Nebula. And even 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 has been delayed by the need to source suitable replacement parts, and the several detours they’ve made along the way. But, finally, those parts had been sourced, and Nebula’s relief was palpable.

Nebula is restless the entire time it takes to reach the planet, and she’s the first one off the ship when they do dock. Gamora goes with her, and Mantis decides she wants to go with them to acquire the replacements, too. 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 browns 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 are sightseers. Mantis catches snatches of interesting shops as they go, places she might normally want to investigate and browse around in, but that would have to wait for another time. Nebula’s attention was only on those replacement parts, and her quick, decisive pace left no room for argument.

“Are you excited?” she asks eventually, when they’ve been walking for many minutes. “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 night Mantis 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 hand, to hold it. She doesn’t, though, very aware of Gamora’s presence. Mantis glances at her. Gamora doesn’t look their way, but Mantis knows that just because she isn’t watching doesn’t mean she’s not paying attention.

It’s not that Mantis thinks Gamora doesn’t know. It’s almost certain that she does. For all their troubles, she knows the sisters talk, spend time together, are trying to repair their fragile relationship. She’s sure Gamora knows something, or at least suspects, 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, isn’t it? About being observed?

Gamora has been kind about it, though, to this point, and Mantis appreciates her discretion, the way she acts like she doesn’t hear or see them, doesn’t react to the way Mantis’s hand twitches longingly for Nebula’s or how they speak with more familiarity than they should have for each other.

It makes Mantis feel a little bit better, a little less antsy.

It is, overall, an uneventful outing, and they pick up the parts without issue or fanfare. Nebula’s relief is palpable the second she has them in her possession. She’s pleased, but almost immediately a new sense of urgency sets in, and now Nebula is impatient to return to the ship to get started. It seems like it takes every ounce of self-restraint to not up and leave Gamora and Mantis behind.

This time, it’s Gamora who matches her pace to Mantis’s so they’re walking side by side, leaving Nebula to outpace them by several steps. Mantis wonders if this was it, if this was the moment Gamora will probe, but she doesn’t, and eventually, when the silence grows too much, Mantis says, “Nebula seems pleased.”

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

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

“Oh, trust me, I know it. As nice as it’s been to have her around, it’s been a pain trying to keep the peace sometimes. Rocket thinks she took some of his tools from the workbench.”

Mantis thinks back to all the times she’s caught Nebula at the workbench, or watched her tinkering with her cybernetics. “She says she hasn’t seen them.”

“You asked her?” Gamora sounds amused.

“Well, I saw her working on her arm at the workbench one night, so I thought I would ask on Rocket’s behalf.” Mantis shrugs. “She said she didn’t.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Not really,” Mantis laughs, and Gamora joins her.

Just ahead of them, Nebula glances back at them, a scowl settling over her features. “Keep up,” she snaps impatiently.

“We’re coming,” Mantis assures, and when Nebula grunts and looks away, she says to Gamora, “Even when she’s happy she’s a grouch.”

“That is Nebula,” Gamora agrees.

“Still…you are right. It has been nice to having her around.”

Gamora hums. After a moment, she says, “You two have gotten close.”

And, yes, there it is. “You noticed.”

“I have eyes, Mantis. It was hard not to.”

“What gave it away?”

“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. “But after that, it was hard not to notice how often she’d sneak off to see you. She worried about you when you weren’t sleeping, you know.” Gamora smiles, glancing towards her sister, who is still easily outpacing them. “She has a soft spot for you.”

“She does, doesn’t she.” Mantis smiles, feeling satisfied and maybe just a little bit smug. Mantis had already had an inkling of it, of how deeply Nebula’s affection for her ran, and it was nice to have someone else confirm what Mantis had already known. It made it all feel more real.

“She nearly had a little crisis about it,” Gamora says. 

“Crisis?” Mantis’s brows raise, questioning. Crisis? She isn’t sure if she should be worried or amused.

“Oh yes. All 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 giggling.

Gamora looks like she might say something else, but before she can Nebula has whipped around to glare at the two of them, gaze shifting from Gamora to Mantis and back again. “What are you two whispering about?” she demands.

“Nothing, dear sister,” Gamora responds easily, smiling, amused at Nebula’s reaction.

Nebula slits her eyes suspiciously. “I don’t believe you.” Gamora merely shrugs.

“We were talking about you,” Mantis pipes up, unable to resister, 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-discretely into her hand in an attempt to hide it. Nebula opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again, but no words come out, and the entire time Mantis is smiling sweetly at her and Nebula’s 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 smiles a moment longer, but suddenly turns serious and asks, “Has she been treating you well?”

The abruptness of the question is jarring, given the tone of their conversation, but Mantis can admit 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 has been very kind to me,” Mantis assures.

Gamora can’t help the surprise 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. Honestly, I think she tolerates the Guardians more than she lets on.”

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

“I hope so,” Mantis says. She certainly wouldn’t complain about more visits from Nebula.

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 and stop her.”

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

Mantis winces. “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,” 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 grudgingly mutters, “It’s fine. I’m not mad.”

“You’re sweet.” Mantis smiles and presses a kiss to Nebula’s cheek. Nebula makes a startled noise, twists her head around 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, starting to pull away, and this finally snaps Nebula 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 you until you let go.”

Nebula groans, annoyed, and Mantis is amused by 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. She’s moved on to prying at Nebula’s hand, trying to peel her hands back. “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 and being disrupted.

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

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

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

Nebula considers only for a second. “Sure,” she says, and Mantis suspects she might have only agreed simply because it would save her a trek to her own room and back, and get them back into bed faster.

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 haven’t quite yet made it to that level yet, and besides, it seemed like 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 can’t keep the growing smile off her face. “You look good. Is it comfortable?”

An embarrassed sort of look flickers across Nebula’s face and she looks away, 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 reach out and touching the exposed skin of her abdomen.

Nebula straightens on contact, her eyes snapping up to Mantis’s, and Mantis briefly wonders if perhaps this was a bit too forward. She’d acted impulsively, before she could stop herself, and now with her hands on Nebula’s belly, she wonders if maybe she had gone a little too far…but Nebula hasn’t shoved her away yet, so…?

They stare at each other for a beat, black eyes looking into black. Then Nebula starts to move, slowly and jerkily, and snakes her arms around Mantis’s waist and she 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.

Mantis studies her face, searching her expression for any sign of discomfort. “Are you okay?”

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

“Your pulse is racing,” Mantis observes.

“Mhm.”

Mantis considers this, Nebula’s response and the strange tone her voice has taken, the way her face has darkened into that deep, dark violet and how hard she swallows, all while Mantis’s hands are still huddled under the fabric of her (of Mantis’s) shirt.

A part of her wonders if she should back off, retract her hands and allow them to return to their previous cuddling position. Another part of her points out that Nebula still has not pulled away or shoved her off.

Mantis slides one hand across Nebula’s belly, up her side and along her ribs, slowly at first and then more confidently when Nebula still does not stop her.

Nebula exhales slowly, carefully, and gradually relaxes into Mantis’s touch.

“I didn’t expect you to be so forward,” she says finally, her voice low.

Mantis tilts her head. “Is that bad?”

“No.” Nebula stares at her 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, a few changes of clothes, and some spare parts and leftover bits and bobs now that her repairs had been taken care of.

Mantis also couldn’t help but notice a few familiar tools still scattered across her desk. “Those wouldn’t happen to be Rocket’s missing tools, would they?”

Nebula’s rifling through her drawers, and she looks up when Mantis speaks. She glances at the tools on the desk and then goes back to the drawer. “So that’s where they went. Wonder how they got there.”

“You are terrible,” Mantis laughs.

“I did nothing.” She holds up a set of clothes and says, “These are yours.” It was the sleepwear Mantis had lent her a few nights ago.

“Keep them,” Mantis says, a little too quickly she thinks, from the way Nebula stares at her.

“You’ll be down a set.”

Mantis shrugs. “I can buy more.”

“Hm.” Nebula frowns, but slowly adds the clothing into her back with the rest of her belongings. Then: “Here,” and she tosses something at Mantis. Her hands come up to catch it before she can ever register what it is. It’s soft, and she quickly realizes it’s clothing. A shirt, to be more exact. One she’s seen Nebula wear to bed on a few occasions.

“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. “Consider it a trade for the set you’re leaving me. Or a gift. Or you can toss it if you don’t want it. I don’t care.”

Mantis curls her hands around the shirt and holds it 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,” Nebula 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 Nebula enough for now.

It isn’t much longer after that Nebula’s finally finished packing. Mantis gets the feeling she’d taken her time, going slower than it should take her to pack up. Not that Mantis was complaining, of course. The longer Nebula took, the more time they had together.

But even that only went so far. Now, 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 make the most of what little time they had left together.

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

Nebula blinks, hesitantly reaches one hand to touch Mantis’s, and Mantis 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,” Mantis promises.

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

Ending Notes:

N/A