SOMEWHERE IN SPACE
Nebula and y/n are on Quill's ship playing paper football.
Nebula: Wrra!
Nebula, frustrated, puts her hands in a fighting stance while looking at y/n.
y/n: Whoa! Hey! Listen, just hold your fingers together like that.
y/n moves Nebula's hands together, if she could blush she would.
y/n: Okay? Now let's go.
Nebula flicks a paper football towards y/n.
y/n: Close one, don't give up.
Nebula once again flicks a paper football towards y/n.
y/n: Nice job Nebula. Just a few more and you'll win.
Nebula: I would like to try again.
Nebula flicks a paper football towards y/n.
y/n: We're tied up. But who's gonna bring it home?
y/n poorly flicks a paper football towards Nebula.
y/n: That was terrible. Now you have a chance to win.
Nebula flicks the paper football towards y/n.
y/n: And... you've won.Knew you had it in you Nebby.
y/n reaches his hand out to shake Nebula's hand. Nebula is bewildered that she had finally won any kind of game by fair means.
y/n: Fair game. Good sport.
Nebula shakes y/n's hand, trying not to think about the fact that she was indeed holding his hand.
y/n: Have fun?
Nebula: It was fun.
Camera switches to see Iron Man's busted helmet. Done watching them play; Tony's hand reaches forward to turn on the helmet. We pan out to see that he's sitting on the floor of a gloomy Benatar. The weight of the recent events evident in Tony's posture. He taps the helmet with a sigh.
Tony Stark: This thing on?
The helmet scans Tony. Tony leans against the wall while taking deep breaths. He looks skinnier and weak with malnutrition.
Tony Stark: Hey, Miss Potts... Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... oh god, I hope so. Today is day 21?
y/n: Uh, 22.
Tony Stark: Right, thank you Mr. Romanoff. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there. You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it. And Pep, I... I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about you. Because it's always you.
