[ To her credit... Or no. No, it's not to Nebula's credit because she had changed. Even without that headache of a lifetime, Nebula had evolved from the person she once was. The being that had been so full of anger she could paint the sky red had finally... been free - to be herself, to find herself, to just be. ]

[ She was not that person who lived in spite and in a survival mode. Even if this person now felt like she stretched far more than she imagined, that the shriveled ball that had been her repressed self expands too slowly in some ways and too fast in others. Or that some part of her detests the part that expands on principle - because it's weak and this part can't compromise on the fact weaknesses is a danger. She would die from weakness. ]

[ She is not the same person. She does not avoid the awkwardness of studying him, listening intently. Caring in a way she would have once scoffed at. Because she's changed and he's still - he's still family. No matter what this place shoved at them. ]

And? Shit's always happening around us.

[ It's not wrong. They probably laughed about it over some drink during those years that feel like a lifetime ago, both lifetimes. Her mouth twitches and maybe this is where they're different. Nebula had noticed the change, had noticed he'd seemed to relax here in ways she's not fully seen him capable of. That this place could be "normal". ]

[ That part of her she doesn't let herself scratch open is jealous. Jealous because he's family and one day, just like Gamora he'd replace her. She knows this part of her is petty and childish and is that fearful child left over from those years, she ignores it. Because she trusts him more than most anyone else.

It still doesn't stop her from offering:]

It's never been normal. [ A beat. ] We've never been normal.

No use getting stuck in it now, we have to keep moving.