InsaneJournal

New Asgard was peaceful. Gamora enjoyed it.

It was quiet – tucked away from the urban bustle of the city, away from the winding paths of the forest. Thor welcomed her with open arms, and she enjoyed spending time with Torunn and Love. She and Daud enjoyed a comfortable, amicable silence when around one another. The rest of Vallo wasn’t terrible, either. She had made…

Friends.

Her people skills were marginally better after years with the Guardians. Gamora was capable, of course; she had her sharp edges, her snark, and she didn’t always wear the most approachable expression but there were good people here and she was pleased to be in their company. But there was an ache in her heart, and it may have dulled with time but it wasn’t leaving. There were things she missed. Like petty arguments, unlaundered clothes on the floor (damnit, Peter), the loud debates as they traveled among the stars, the exasperation she felt at having to diffuse situations.

Idiots, all of them, every single one.

Gamora missed her family, and they were who she thought about while she was knee-deep in still waters. She could hear the faint swishes of aquatic tails moving beneath the water. She could see the shapes of them from her periphery, circling her in a false sense of security, like she was a harmless structure they could swim around without consequence. Spearfishing was a very zen hobby she’d taken up to fill in the gaps of time. Precise stabbing had always been something she excelled at.

She tightened her grip on her weapon. It was time. There was enough. She could stick a blade through a few before they dispersed, but her goal was a big one that bravely came over. This was it. Gamora would strike. She didn’t even need to suck in a breath to ready herself, she was just going to–

Something fell from the heavens. There was a splash too large to be a fish that doused her with a surprising amount of saltwater. Driving the point of a spear into whatever it was had been a reflex – she hadn’t even paused to assess what she was sticking the blade into. Who she was sticking the blade into.

“What?” she said, and there was that breath; a shaky exhale as her eyes caught up on the figure of blue and steel.

The water was the only way Nebula could have seen to break her fall, when she fell as quickly as she did. One second, she was on Knowhere, dealing with some petty squabble (already rethinking this whole “leader of Knowhere” plan) and then the next she was falling headfirst into a planet.

The water proved to be shallow enough to allow her to land on a knee, and her hand reacted quicker than the rest of Nebula did as she reached out to grab the threat heading for her. She caught the spear inches from her face, and looked up to snarl at the threat in question-- but cut off at the flash of familiar green complexion.

“Sister.” So she’d kept in contact with Gamora ever since this one was brought back, but that didn’t mean they’d become close. It wasn’t the same with the second Gamora, but maybe they were on that path now that she’d helped the Guardians save Rocket.

Or she would push through and stab Nebula anyway. Either one was a possibility.

Nebula still pushed the spear to the side, slowly. “Did you summon me here with some kind of strange magic? I thought you were with the Ravagers.”

Gamora wasn’t stunned to silence often but, yes, right fucking now, she was stunned. The ends of her hair dripped with water as her stare bore into Nebula like it could cut her, which was - well, fitting, considering she almost drove a pointed weapon into her.

“Ravagers, why would I be with–” Stopping herself, she ripped the spear away and tossed it into the water. Gamora knew she was behind. On everything. Because she was dead, and there was a past-iteration of her that was lost in whatever time their present was. She’s had that conversation with Thor already, and she had this dreaded feeling it would be a conversation had with Nebula too.

Swallowing hard, she knelt down to her sister’s level and grabbed her shoulders. She was real. “Nebula, the last time I saw you, our f–Thanos had you,” she said, voice cracking around the words. People came and went in Vallo, and she knew a lot of people from their universe were here but she hardly knew most of them, and she was beginning to accept that her people would stay elsewhere–and moving on without her. “He had you,” she repeated. “And then he took me to Vormir.”

Nebula swore under her breath, then again, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. Vormir Gamora.

Her Gamora. Quill’s Gamora. But also a Gamora that was missing years of memories, and Nebula was the one that had to tell her that.

Fuck, she hated this sometimes. Nebula stalled, taking her time to stand up out of the water and to glare down at it as if it had done something offensive to her. “He’s dead.” And the universe was better for it. “That was eight years ago.” It didn’t feel like it had been that long, but was less for others - three. The five year blip had come and gone and some people had no idea time had even passed for them.

But Nebula remembered. Had lived through all of them and had traveled the galaxy with Rocket and the Avengers. She’d already mourned her sister, and had settled into this life. “A lot has happened since then.” Nebula wasn’t in a hurry to go into detail about what happened on Vormir, so she looked around. “Where are we? Is this New Asgard?”

Eight years ago. Eight years ago. Gamora wrapped her mind around the possibility of just the five already; she knew that Thanos had succeeded, she knew that they had also undone it (for those who’d been taken by the snap of his fingers at least). But eight years ago was a blow that hit her in the gut, and in the heart.

If her expression showed it, it was only for a flicker of seconds. Her hands fell off Nebula’s shoulders once she stood, and Gamora stayed on her knees for some lingering moments before following her lead.

“New Asgard,” she confirmed, her throat tight, and she watched her sister – taking in the little differences, the pieces that were replaced by others. I missed you, she wanted to say. The words became ash in her mouth. “Not on Earth – it’s another world, they call it Vallo. It feels more like a dimension than a planet itself. It pulls people and places from other universes, other timelines. Thor is here. Some… allies of yours are, too. Avengers.”

Nebula quietly took it all in, both looking for threats and for answers. Neither of them reached out in the world around her, which was frustrating but not unexpected. It would have been easier to fight something now than talk about this with her sister.

She’d been trying to do better for her family, to fight things instead of facing them emotionally, but ugh. It was difficult. At the mention of Thor, she made a noise of annoyance. “Great. Thor. Anyone useful?” She hadn’t exactly been Thor’s biggest fan when he was a Guardian, his cheerful nature just grated on her for some reason. Rocket and Groot liked him, though, and their opinion went a long way. “Rocket? Quill?”

As much as she hated to call Quill useful, if he wasn’t standing by to hear her say it, it didn’t count.

Gamora didn’t know how her throat could feel this closed up, but it had tightened, somehow - and it was a miracle she was able to get words through despite it. “No,” she told her. “It’s just been me. You’re the first of–” Mine. Them. “You’re the first.”

Not thrilled to stay stationary in water, she began to take the strides to get out of it, bare feet breaching the shoreline. Gritty sand and pricks of seashells beneath her feet. “There’s a place I can take you to get situated,” Gamora said, putting her hands on her hips. “They’ll give you an orientation, a device for you to communicate with – money, if you choose to sign up.”

She should hug her. She should hug her. Nebula would never be the one to initiate it, and Gamora understood why, and she didn’t mind taking that first step again.

But eight years kept ringing in her mind. She was at a loss of how to handle it.

“Fine.” Nebula should have given her sister more to go on, because it had been a while. This Gamora, that they had all missed a great deal, that they were in denial about missing. The one that had been their heart, had successfully gotten her sister to see what side she needed to be on to fight Thanos.

This Gamora was just different. She clung to the idea of still having her through the other Gamora, but they had already acknowledged it would never be the same, not truly.

But Nebula had never been good at voicing any of that. She lacked the vocal empathy that Gamora and Quill both had. So instead she just busied herself with opening her arm vents to let the water drip from it.

After a full minute of silence, she spoke up, quietly. “We’ve missed you. It isn’t the same.”

That made her mouth form a tremulous smile. It made her laugh too, short and unintentional but very genuine. Gamora hadn’t known it was something she needed to hear until she heard it, and she still didn’t know how to quite feel about it all. The world moved on with another her and she wasn’t self-centered enough except otherwise, though to be alive and see it through a loved one was just–the weirdest. She’d been willing to die if it would stop Thanos from collecting the stones. It didn’t mean she wanted to die and be taken from her family.

If words were failing her then she had to make it up with something else, and that something else began when she closed the gap between them, and interrupted the arm vent draining by wrapping her own around Nebula. The hug wasn’t hesitant. It was fiercely tight, like she was afraid of her sister slipping through her fingers. “No comments,” she told her, eyes screwed shut. “I need this.”

Nebula should have expected this. To be hugged. But it felt strange, it always did. Even these days with the Guardians, who had pulled her into numerous hugs over the last few years.

But not Gamora. The last time she’d been hugged by Gamora was before she died. She’d been glad to have her sister back, but they weren’t the same. And that was fine, the other Gamora had her own way, and they managed to communicate better. But it wasn’t like this. It didn’t make tears well in her eyes as Gamora’s arms wrapped around her.

Nebula hugged back. Tentatively. But the arm that Rocket had made her was better, and felt more real and less like a metal stick as she wrapped both arms around Gamora’s back. She was tempted to make a comment just to spite Gamora but bit her tongue and agreed quietly, “No comments.”

Gamora huffed a quiet, small laugh into her shoulder. Rarely did Nebula listen to her, and it was only recently (to her) that she got through to her sister when it counted. It was good to have her here; to have her safe and not be pulled to pieces by the man that dared call them his daughters.

But she knew better to push her luck, and the embrace lingered for a few seconds before Gamora reluctantly pulled back. “Let’s get you settled,” she told her, letting her hands linger over her arms for a tiny while longer before her hands dropped away from her.

She did have to take Nebula to the DOA to get a device, and she held her tongue about reminding her to be civil. Surely she didn’t have to tell her to not punch someone, right?

(Spoiler alert: nope, she was wrong, but she also wasn’t mad about it. Nebula was a piece of home.)