The Bowie, Deep Space
He found it in the common room, in the hands of both the first and last person he wanted to see in the moment.
She was sitting on the couch, too engrossed in her examination of the music player to even notice his arrival until he'd cleared his throat.
"Oh." Gamora glanced up from the Zune to acknowledge him before turning her attention back to the little device. "Is this yours?"
"Yeah." Despite himself, Peter felt a heat rush into his face at the question.
Why? It was a simple enough question. It didn't mean anything. But it'd come from her, and she was talking to him...
"It's called a Zune." Peter hesitated for a moment before taking a seat next to her on the couch, careful to maintain just enough space to keep things cool. "It's kinda like a really fancy Walkman—"
"Walkman?"
Right.
"Here." He offered out a hand, and she gave him the little device. "See? You just use these buttons to select a song, and then...bam! Instant tunes."
Gamora's brow furrowed as a confused smile slipped across her lips. "Why would anyone have need for that?"
Her words cut deep, but Peter did his best to shrug them off as he scrolled through his collection of 1960s hits. "I don't know. It's fun, it lightens the mood...or helps set it." He paused, realizing how awkward the words sounded, and hastily added, "You weren't a big fan of it, at first, but you came around eventually."
Gamora's smile turned sympathetic. "No, I didn't."
Another rough blow, but she'd never been one to let things go easily. At least, not until she'd met them.
Met him.
"Okay, yeah, maybe." Peter shrugged as he thumbed down to a particular song. "But just give it a try. One of our favorites."
"Our?" Her smile wavered as the first few measures of the song played out, and Peter's heart dropped as she started to stand up. "I'm sorry, no. I know where this is going."
"Please?" He tried to grab hold of her arm. "It's just one song—"
"It's not just one song." The words came out barbed as she yanked her arm from his grasp. "Please, Peyton—"
"Peter." Despite every attempt to keep his cool composure, Peter's shoulders sagged. "It's Peter."
How could she forget that? His Gamora or not, she still knew who he was, right? She still had to know his name. And yet, Peyton...
"Right." Gamora's tone softened ever so slightly, though she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eyes again. "Look, Peter, I'm sure you're a great guy, and I'm sure your Gamora loved this song...but this isn't fair to either of us, okay? It's not going to happen."
Peter was silent for a long moment, trying to think of a way to reach her, to make things better. Why was this so hard? Sure, his Gamora hadn't been very open when they'd first met, but at least she hadn't given him those stupid, sympathetic looks like he was some sort of confused kid. Why couldn't she understand? Why couldn't she just give him a chance?
But by the time he found the courage to ask such a question, Gamora disappeared, so long gone he couldn't even hear footsteps in the hall. And just like that, Peter was alone again. Alone, with Sam Cooke crooning in the background.
If you ever change your mind,
About leaving, leaving me behind,
Baby, bring it to me,
Bring your sweet loving,
Bring it on home to me,
Yeah,
Yeah,
Yeah,
Yeah...
...
For some time, darkness reigned supreme. And then, slowly, the world began to lighten, growing brighter and brighter until it burst back into color. Fallon winced, blinking hard a few times as her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light. She wasn't sure where she was—and for a moment, her mind was too sleep addled to care—but wherever it was, it was soft and warm and comfortable enough that she thought about never leaving. Maybe she could just stay here and let all of her problems be resolved by time and space. That would be very nice.
But such a fantasy was quickly shattered by a soft, hopeful voice.
"Fallon?"
Fallon sighed, forcing a weak little smile before turning to look over at Adam, who sat in a chair by her bedside, a small, furry brown creature in his lap.
"Hey." She wanted to say more, but it was all that came to mind.
Not that Adam seemed to care.
"Hey." He sounded so excited, and his smile alone was enough to break her heart. "You're...you're back. You're better."
She wasn't certain of the latter, given the sore, groggy feeling that plagued her from head to toe, but she wasn't about to burst his bubble.
"Yeah." She paused, her attention settling on the lump of fur in his lap. "What is that?"
Adam blinked, then looked down at the creature, his smile widening. "Oh. I...I don't really know, actually. I thought he might be a cat, but I've never actually seen a cat before, so..."
He looked to her expectantly, and Fallon searched her memories—then the timeline—before remarking, "I think it's a dog. Maybe."
It definitely was not a dog, but how was she supposed to explain a F'saki to a guy who'd never seen a cat? Besides, Adam seemed more than pleased with her answer.
"A dog." He gave the creature a pat on the head. "Are you a dog, Blurp?"
Fallon was about to question the name, but the noise the creature made quickly cleared up her confusion.
Adam rewarded the little thing with a scratch behind the ears, a sight that sent a rush of warmth through Fallon's chest. He was so innocent, so gentle, so sweet. Like, well, like a boy with his dog. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to resist such a guy. But she had to. For his good and hers.
And she'd failed. Miserably.
Not that he needed to know that. At least, not for a little while longer. If she could hold onto this, if things could stay the same for just a moment long, maybe she'd be happy, and maybe he'd hate her a little less in the end.
"Cute." Fallon managed another smile as she tugged her blanket closer, only to wish she hadn't when realization hit. "Is this your cape?"
Adam nodded, a little bronze appearing across his face. "There weren't very many nice blankets around. And I thought you might like it better anyways."
Of course he did. Why wouldn't he? Hell, he'd probably been sitting in that same seat since she'd passed out, just waiting and hoping and praying for her to wake up. Ever the dutiful partner...
"Well, you thought right." The words felt like bile on her tongue, but she forced them out as she wrapped the cape closer around her. "It's very soft, and silky, and..."
They were filler comments, meant to prolong the topic for as long as possible, but she found herself unable to continue when she noticed the look on Adam's face, and Fallon sighed before letting her smile fade.
"Something bad happened."
Adam hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yes." He paused, his expression brightening ever so slightly. "But you're awake, and you're okay, and that's all that matters, right?"
For a moment, Fallon thought that might just be the truth. But that hope came crashing down when he added, "Though, I think the others might want an explanation. And...and I think I might want one too."
Of course he did.
"Well, in that case, I think I'm feeling light headed again."
Her words got a dry laugh from Adam, and Fallon tried her best to match the noise, but her efforts fell flat, and the pit in her gut only grew when he fell silent, his attention settling on something new.
"You're shaking."
It wasn't until he pointed it out that she felt it, and Fallon quickly hid her hands between the folds of the cape before forcing a weak smile. "It's probably just...exhaustion?"
She knew it was a bad lie, and the look on his face only cemented that.
"Fallon"—Adam removed Blurp from his lap before reaching out to take her hand in his own, and despite how desperately she wanted to, Fallon found herself unable to resist his touch—"whatever's going on here, whatever's troubling you, I want to help."
Fallon stared at him, trying her best to will away the prickling sensation in the corners of her eyes. So sincere, so trusting, so gentle. He was beautiful, in all aspects of the word. And she...she was supposed to...
"No." The word came out shakier than she wanted. "If you knew...oh, you'd hate me."
Her voice broke at the last part, but she forced herself to look up at him, expecting confusion, shock, maybe even anger. But Adam only smiled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"I'm not sure I could ever hate you."
The words were meant for comfort, but they only served to deepen the pit in Fallon's gut.
Oh, how she hoped that was true.
...
For the first time, all seven passengers of the Bowie—old and new—found themselves in the exact same place at the exact same time. Fallon had retaken her spot on the common room couch, claiming to be still in recovery, and nobody dared question that, not when Adam was on high alert next to her.
Nor did they question the small furry creature he held in his lap, but that was a different matter.
The Guardians had spread themselves out in an arc in front of the couch, or at least, as much of an arc as three people could make. Drax was still frozen, propped up against the doorframe and muttering remarkably specific deaths threats for Adam, who didn't seem to even hear him.
And Gamora had chosen to lean against a side wall, her arms folded over her chest and gaze flickering between Fallon and the floor. Nothing more, nobody else.
Not that Peter cared. He had more important things to worry about, like figuring out just who he'd let aboard his ship.
But it was Nebula who broke the silence first.
"I thought she said she was ready to talk."
Fallon's gaze hardened, and she pulled Adam's cape tighter around her shoulders. "Well, that's not a great way of getting her to open up."
Nebula bristled. "I could throw you out into space right now."
At the threat, Adam shifted, his hands tightening into fists, and Peter hastily raised his hands.
"Okay, okay, nobody's here to fight—"
"I am here to fight," Drax put in gruffly, and Peter huffed before casting his frozen friend a pointed look.
"Yeah, good luck with that." He sighed again before turning his attention back to the pair on the couch. "Look, nobody wants to hurt you guys—"
"Also incorrect."
"Drax!" The snap came from all three of the remaining Guardians, and Peter waited for silence to settle before returning to the obvious subject at hand.
"We just need to know what the hell happened with you." He nodded to Fallon, whose gaze dropped to her lap at his attention. "Look, I know we're a bunch of strangers, and some of us are dumber than others—"
Drax grunted. "He's talking about Nebula."
It took all of Peter's self-control not to snap back at the man, but the accused was quick to help him out.
"I can throw you into space too." Nebula glared at her teammate, and Drax averted his gaze.
"Sorry. Continue with the skinny witch."
"Not a witch." Fallon flinched as the room's attention snapped onto her, and she hesitated for a moment before murmuring, "Sorry, that seemed like a good place to..." She sighed and waved away the thought before crossing her legs and sitting up straighter. "I'm not...I'm..." She broke off again with a huff before waving a hand, and her eyes brightened for a moment as a brilliant orange strand of light appeared in the air.
Whatever questions were left, whatever comments had been brewing, they all died at the sight. Nobody was quite sure what they were looking at, but it was beautiful, and fragile, and...oddly familiar. Not by sight, but by feeling.
"This is time." Fallon's voice softened as she concentrated on the strand. "Everything that was"—she pointed to a point near the end of the line—"everything that is"—her finger moved to the middle of the line before trailing off to the end—"and everything that will be."
The statement was met with mostly blank stares, but recognition flickered in Adam's eyes, and Fallon paused again before continuing on.
"I can control it, to a degree." She flicked her wrists, and the line began to reshape itself, some parts breaking off and merging into different sections. "Not so much making it move faster or slower, but reordering events. Copying portions of the past or future to change the present. Like..."
She paused, waving one hand, and a section of the timeline's past duplicated, the new portion moving to implant itself to the present point of the stream, and the cape disappeared from her shoulders, returning to its original position on Adam's armor as if it'd never left.
"Ta da." Fallon gave a half-hearted flourish as the others looked back and forth between her and the cape. "That's what I was trying to do earlier when I...um, short-circuited, I guess. I was trying to reset everyone to a point in the past, and this form didn't have the energy to keep up."
"Hold up." Peter raised a hand as his eyes narrowed. "'This form?' What, can you gonna tell us you can turn into a freaky time fairy too?" His question was met with a guilty silence, and his jaw slackened. "Oh my God..."
"I wouldn't call it a 'time fairy' per say," Fallon added as the man rubbed at his temple, avoiding the accusing looks of his teammates. "More of a—"
"Space fairy?" Adam asked. "I mean, that's what you looked like. Before."
From the wall, Drax scoffed. "A 'space fairy' is the dumbest idea I have ever heard."
Adam narrowed his eyes. "How is it any worse than 'time fairy?'"
"Because Peter suggested 'time fairy.'" Drax glared at the golden man. "And even Peter is not as stupid as you."
Adam looked ready to spring from the couch, but Fallon was quick to interject before any punches could to thrown. Or energy blasts. Whatever it would be.
"Nobody's wrong." She rested a gentle hand on Adam's leg for good measure, and while he didn't make any moves, he and Drax still remained glaring at one another. "Adam's right, I do look a little bit like a space fairy in my natural form, and I have better control over the timelines that way, so Peter's..." She sighed, lacking the energy to continue with the idea. "Look, the point is, I lied. I have the time powers, I have the alternate form, and I was hoping nobody would find out about it."
Another beat of silence passed before Mantis asked, "So, what are you?"
Fallon blinked. "What?"
"I said, what are you?" Mantis raised her eyebrows. "What's the alternate form? Or are you actually just a time and space fairy?"
Fallon hesitated, wringing her hands in an absentminded fidget, but before she could answer for herself, someone else spoke up.
"Fate." Adam looked at her expectantly, ignoring the sudden attention that had been placed upon him by the name. "That's it, isn't it? Whatever it is?"
Fallon stared at him for a moment before the slightest smile slipped across her lips. "Yeah. It is. I mean, technically, it's Lady Fate, but that's just formality." Her smile began to wear off as she continued, "I think the most common term for us is 'entity.' We—the others like me—exist on an entirely different plane of being, and we guide the other realms along in their existence. There's Eternity, Infinity, Death, Life..." She hesitated again before continuing, "Reality, Unreality, Mistress Love, Sire Hate, Master Order, Lord Chaos, me. I'm in charge of planning out the tales of time, negotiating with Life and Death, writing new timelines, all sorts fun stuff. And I have this big library with all the stories of everyone ever..."
She trailed off, her smile returning as a warm glow appeared in her eyes, until Nebula broke her bliss.
"Then why are you here?"
The light in Fallon's eye flickered out, replaced with an odd hollowness, and her smile fell to a wavering frown.
"Well, usually, I'm pretty good at my job." Her voice tightened as her gaze fell to her lap again. "But there was an...incident, recently, with a dimension far outside this one. I was trying some new things, and...and the whole thing just collapsed. Time ceased to exist, and I couldn't get it back, and I was beside myself." She paused. "So, I went to Life—he's a brother, of sorts—and he fixed it without a second thought. And I was so grateful, I promised him anything, which, at the time, didn't feel like a lot...and he sent me here. To get him an Avatar."
Once again, she waited, as if hoping for a spark of recognition that might ease the explanation along, but even Adam seemed completely clueless.
"Avatars are like our agents in the mortal realms," Fallon continued once her hopes had been dashed. "They protect what we lord over, carry out missions we don't want to do or can't do by ourselves. Death's been looking into one, so, of course, Life needs one too, to keep things balanced. But he found one he wanted, and since he can't kill—"
"I'm sorry"—Nebula's hands fell to the batons at her side—"'kill?'"
Fallon hastily raised her hands in defense. "Yes, but nobody...nobody from your crew."
Her words took a moment to settle, and slowly, gazes began to shift between the only two in the room who didn't fit the description. And in Nebula's eyes, realization began to flicker.
"Not my sister."
It wasn't even a question. She knew, Fallon knew, and everyone else did too as all eyes turned to the one possibility left. Except for Fallon. She couldn't bring herself to face him.
"No. Not your sister."