MAGIC TRICKS [PETER PARKER]

THIRTY-ONE

THE FIRST WEEK, NADIA FELT NOTHING. Tony coerced her into having a few sips from one of the Guardians' water bottles every day, but he could never bring her to eat. She was in a fugue state, her only emotion being grief and indifference. She only slept when her eye lids gave up fighting against it. And then she was plagued with nightmares of those she'd lost. Zac, her parents, Stephen... And Peter. God, Peter.

The second week, primal necessities overcame her grief. She finally ate, but not enough. She was not only dehydrated from the lack of water available, but because she cried constantly.

Nadia missed him. She missed him so much.

Day and night (not that she knew the difference as they floated through space) she clutched the watch she had given him for his sixteenth birthday, the only thing she had left of him other than memories. She ran over their final moments every waking second, wishing she had said more, wishing there was something more she could've done, wishing that it had been her.

Nebula wasn't the nicest person, but she was alright. Nadia wasn't sure what the cyborg woman had been through, so maybe it was justified, but she was at least decent enough to stay with them. Not that she necessarily had a choice.

Nadia sat in the same spot everyday, what she assumed used to be the driver's seat of the Guardians spaceship, staring at the time as it ticked by. She counted twenty two days. 528 hours. 31,680 minutes. 1,900,800 seconds. The oxygen was set to run out the next morning. Food had run out days ago. Their deaths were inevitable; Tony knew it, she knew it. Part of her was sort of wishing Death would get it over with and just take her already.

"Hey."

Numbly, Nadia glanced up from the face of the watch to where Tony stood a few steps away. "Can I sit?" he asked, though he had already begun seating himself. The seats weren't the most comfortable, but they were better than the cold metal floor.

The two were silent for a long moment, Nadia curling her knees to her chest and planting the watch deep in her palm, clutching onto it as if Tony were going to try and rip it from her grasp. "You okay?" asked the man, giving her the side-eye. She replied with a blank look.

Tony chuckled humorlessly, "That- that's fair, it was a dumb question." The silence returned. "I thought you should know, uh, the oxygen runs out tomorrow morning."

Nadia stared out the window at the stars. "I know." Her voice was raspy from dehydration.

"So I spoke to big blue meanie back there, and she's wagered that I will die first, you know, because of my old man lungs..." Nadia gave him another look, this one just as numb and blank. "Sorry... Just trying to lighten the air a little..." replied Tony, giving her a pained smile. "Mind if I crash here?" he asked, patting the arm rests of the chair. Nadia shook her head, weakly handing him her jacket.

"Thanks kid," Tony said covering his shoulders the best he could. He closed his eyes, but opened them immediately when Nadia spoke a few seconds later. "It sucks."