When it came to life or death -- even his own -- he didn't always think about the weight of these things anymore. He didn't think about how much it hurt sometimes, to be one of the ones left behind.
Mainly because he lived it every day of his life. For the longest time, he'd been the last Nova. He'd outlived friends and allies. And then, when he found out about the New Warriors, he outlived most of them too, just like Vance -- but the difference was it'd come after the War. After the fall of Xandar. After he'd seen good people die and worlds fall and had to send his own men to their deaths.
What was one man's life -- his life -- compared to it all?
He'd almost expected it. Deep in his heart of hearts, he'd known that the idyllic life he dreamed he'd someday have -- one of restoring the Nova Corps, bringing order to space, being in love, having kids, settling down on Earth, being an Avenger -- would never come to be. He'd accepted it.
He accepted it still, accepted that he was probably going to die in another universe, in another place far from home, one of the few people from his world (or at least his version of it).
So he didn't catch Vance's sadness and thought the silence was just him concentrating. He didn't think about the value others had put on his life, not just as Nova, but as Rich, their friend. He didn't think about the sinking, painful weight his death had put on some of their shoulders.
Instead he just grinned as Vance talked about him dragging him into a mess.
"Naturally! That's like officially my job now, with this space stuff, yanking various acquaintances into messes with me. The only way to make it more official would be if I traded in the cruiser me and my rookies were using for a police box."
no subject
When it came to life or death -- even his own -- he didn't always think about the weight of these things anymore. He didn't think about how much it hurt sometimes, to be one of the ones left behind.
Mainly because he lived it every day of his life. For the longest time, he'd been the last Nova. He'd outlived friends and allies. And then, when he found out about the New Warriors, he outlived most of them too, just like Vance -- but the difference was it'd come after the War. After the fall of Xandar. After he'd seen good people die and worlds fall and had to send his own men to their deaths.
What was one man's life -- his life -- compared to it all?
He'd almost expected it. Deep in his heart of hearts, he'd known that the idyllic life he dreamed he'd someday have -- one of restoring the Nova Corps, bringing order to space, being in love, having kids, settling down on Earth, being an Avenger -- would never come to be. He'd accepted it.
He accepted it still, accepted that he was probably going to die in another universe, in another place far from home, one of the few people from his world (or at least his version of it).
So he didn't catch Vance's sadness and thought the silence was just him concentrating. He didn't think about the value others had put on his life, not just as Nova, but as Rich, their friend. He didn't think about the sinking, painful weight his death had put on some of their shoulders.
Instead he just grinned as Vance talked about him dragging him into a mess.
"Naturally! That's like officially my job now, with this space stuff, yanking various acquaintances into messes with me. The only way to make it more official would be if I traded in the cruiser me and my rookies were using for a police box."
Nerd alert.