Chapter Text
Nebula opened her eyes. She had woken up from hearing a scream but when she stared into her dark room's ceiling she could hear nothing. It took her a few seconds before a sudden wave of emotions overflowed her body and she started to cry. The memories of her dream came back - no, her nightmare - revealing to her that it was her scream that had woken her up.
She didn’t weeped or make any sounds. All that happened was her tears running over her cheeks. Sitting up she leaned into her pillow, rubbing over her face.
"Nebula? Are you okay? I heard you screaming."
She hadn't noticed Peter coming into her room. When she raised her head she found him right in front of her. His hair wild, his face had markings from the folds of his pillow. He clearly had just woken up. Nebula knew he was sleeping in just his trunks - everybody knew - so he must have dressed really quick. Clear evidence was the shirt he was wearing the wrong way, the usual inner sewed lines visible. At last the pants he had put on correctly.
Nebula may have made jokes about it, but she didn't feel like it. She was too tired, too agitated. Also, one closer look at Peter would have made her forget everything. His look was concerned.
Nebula looked at him. Her eyes were swollen. A tired expression was laying on every inch of her face. It was a surreal view for Peter. He hadn't seen Nebula often like this before. Maybe one time when they mourned Gamora together. But he was so used to his friends' tough expressions, seeing her vulnerable felt different. Forbidden.
"I just had a nightmare." She confessed. Usually it would be embarrassing to her but she was just too tired. And she knew that Peter wouldn't make fun of her. Not because of something like that. At this point she knew him long enough. He might be an idiot but he for sure had his fair shares of serious moments.
Peter stepped closer and sat down on the chair next to her bed. "You wanna talk about it?" His voice was surprisingly soft, almost worried. "If not, that's also okay. Just wanna let you know that I ca-"
"It was about Thanos. Like you can imagine. I haven't thought about it in years. What’s a surprise, considering I see it every day." Her artificial fingers tapped on her memory piece.
"How did you got it?"
"Got is an interesting word for that." She chuckled, pain of the memory swinging in it. "You really wanna know?"
"I wouldn't ask, Nebs. But if you're not comfortable with it I can wait. Just remember I'm always here to listen. I can be quite a good listener."
Nebula mustered him, collecting her thoughts. She felt like she had already said too much. Peter must have noticed her insecure state so they kept silent for a while. Being next to each other, being in their own minds. Peter brainstorming how he could comfort his friend, Nebula battling with herself of letting a big part of her guard down, revealing a part of herself she only had shared with Rocket once but nobody else.
"It was the day they shaved my head."
Unsure her eyes wandered on Peter, making sure she hadn't pushed him in an uncomfortable situation. He looked back at her. A serious expression on his face. When he noticed her look he nodded reassuringly.
"I thought it was a really harmless torture, consider they already shaved it once." She stroked over her head as if there was hair left. Her hand remained on her memory piece. Eyes became dark, expressionless. "But then they strapped me on a chair. That chair I had been on so often already. I didn't know what was happening. I only saw tools. I knew some, some were new. First they cut open my skin, my muscles, flesh. Everything, until they were on my skull. I probably passed out a few times. Every time they brought me back until they got tired of it and just injected me with adrenaline to keep me awake."
She looked at Peter. His green eyes looked straight at her. But she saw no pity like she expected. All she saw was rage. She understood his question.
"They needed me awake. Then they saw my skull open. I screamed, I yelled. I cried. God, I cried so much." Swallowing her tears, Nebula allowed herself to let a piece of her guard down. Her head resting in her hands. "You don't know what type of pain it is. Have you ever been hit on rock? Solid stone? Over and over again? It's like the worst headache you can imagine."
There were no words spoken for a few minutes. Nebula hadn't expected to be rushed with so many emotions as she thought to have come over it, accepting it as part of herself. But nightmares and almost breaking down from a sheer memory were a sign to her. A reminder that, no matter how hard she would try, how much she would heal, it would always haunt her. Being forced to live with the memories that were quite literally wired inside her brain.
"And that wasn't even the worst part." Blue lips formed a silent, tired laugh.
"You don't need to tell me more…" Peter wasn't grossed out, he just needed to let her know that it was okay for him if she would stop now. The last thing he wanted was to give her flashbacks.
"They needed to know if they were connecting the wires correctly in my brain. So they spend hours, hours, wiring each piece in. Asking me if it hurts. Not even because they were concerned but because they needed to know. To wire everything in perfectly. Because despite me being supposed to be a warrior, a merciless killer, I was still forced to feel. I wish they had just turned me into a robot. Without feelings. Without pain."
Everything just came out of her mouth. And it had a therapeutic effect. But a look at Peter made her regret boiling up.
The man was staring at his hands, clearly in his own thoughts. Maybe she had overshared. Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she had overshared.
Peter stared into space. There was no focus on anything. He tried to process what Nebula had just told him. There was always the knowledge that Nebula had gone through torture in her forced modifications - he had briefly talked about it with Gamora - but listening to her narration about one of her alterations in such detail made his stomach drop. Not only the operation itself but listening to the pain in Nebula’s voice, the pain she was still feeling even after all those years.
Nebula opened her mouth to apologize when big green eyes looked at her. Concern and compassion mixing together in their bright color. A rare expression on her friend's face. It made her stomach twist, giving her a warm feeling.
"I won't even pretend I know how you feel. Because, fuck, I don't. I don't even have something remotely similar. I'm definitely one of the last people here who will ever understand. But…" he licked his lips and his eyes blinked thoughtfully. "...I'm glad you shared this with me. And I'm sorry it happened to you.”
The sincerity that swung in Peter’s voice made the knot in her stomach twist harder. It was not an unpleasant feeling. It was just a feeling she wasn’t familiar with. She had felt it a few times before, every time when she and Peter talked - more or less every time - but so far she couldn’t make out what this meant to her. Or more, she wasn’t ready to admit what it meant.
“And… I’m glad you aren’t an emotionless and numb robot.” his hand laid on hers. Nebula wondered if he noticed that it was her artificial hand he was touching and the, meant to be, soothing gesture would have gone unnoticed if she hadn’t looked. She couldn’t come around to not appreciate it. Maybe it was soothing after all. "My door is always open for you when you wanna talk. Or have another nightmare. We can pull an all-nighter. Get drunk, watch a few movies, listen to music. Eat a lot of junk until we throw up. Just do everything to give your other thoughts."
“I’d… I’d like that.”
She gave him her most honest smile. It was tired, but sincere. In response Peter smiled back, just as tired, which reminded her that it was in the middle of the night.
“I kept you awake long enough now. You are free to go back to sleep.” she pulled her hand away, despite her heart's protests. If she'd listen to it she would be here for hours, holding Peter's hand.
Peter chuckled, soft. His hand laid back on her body, this time on her shoulder. Gentle squeezing it. “You better get some sleep too. We don't want you in a bad mood tomorrow."
Nebula scoffed. "I won't take that from a guy we will need to drag outta bed."
He gave her a grin and she thought he looked adorable. She always envied him for his ability to still smile even with his issues, despite everything he went through. They went through.
"Thank you, Peter. I mean it."
Peter smiled, ignoring the urge to just hug her. They weren't at that state of their friendship yet. Some day he would be able to. But not now. Now he was just glad to be able to help her. Feeling relieved he left her quarters.
“Sleep well, Nebs.”
Nebula settled down on her bed, replaying her talk with Peter. Usually - maybe even tomorrow - she would feel shame to have herself exposed like this.
But not tonight.
Letting herself fall back into her pillows she raised her arm, looking at her artificial hand. The hand Peter just had held. The hand that didn't have any nerves attached but the one that she felt like sending tingles through her body right now.
Pressing her hand on her chest she started to drift back into sleep, but this time without nightmares.