[ He's not entirely sure how to feel about that. The first and easiest sensation to parse is relief. Reassurance. Perhaps this was a kinder universe, he thinks – though only to a certain degree.
(He does, after all, see his own history in a mirror sitting across from him.)
The second feeling, and something slightly more complicated, slightly more selfish, is a small degree of envy, a bittersweet longing for a home he can't return to. His own family is dead, slaughtered before him, save for his mother – the one and only time Peter considered her sickness a mixed blessing. He wonders after the fate of the Quill family in this universe. And if they're alive, he wonders if this Peter Quill knows what a gift he still has. ]
You must visit often.
[ A question hiding in a statement – it's not his turn, after all. ]
no subject
(He does, after all, see his own history in a mirror sitting across from him.)
The second feeling, and something slightly more complicated, slightly more selfish, is a small degree of envy, a bittersweet longing for a home he can't return to. His own family is dead, slaughtered before him, save for his mother – the one and only time Peter considered her sickness a mixed blessing. He wonders after the fate of the Quill family in this universe. And if they're alive, he wonders if this Peter Quill knows what a gift he still has. ]
You must visit often.
[ A question hiding in a statement – it's not his turn, after all. ]