He walked up to Carol, his one eye fixed on her, his expression unchanged.
No welcome, no hostility—only the calm certainty of "You finally came."
"Captain Marvel," Fury said.
"Fury," Carol said.
"You brought a shipload of aliens to Earth."
"They're the Guardians of the Galaxy. They came to help."
Fury's one eye shifted to Quill, sizing him up from head to toe.
Quill instinctively straightened his chest, trying to look more like a hero?
He didn't know.
But in front of Nick Fury, he felt like a child caught stealing something.
"Peter Quill, Star-Lord, an Earthling who was taken from Earth over thirty years ago. Never thought I'd see you come back."
Quill's mouth fell open, then closed.
"Y-You... how do you know that?"
"I'm Nick Fury. I know a lot of things."
He turned and headed toward the SUV.
"Follow me. The Avengers are waiting for you. There's a lot to explain, and not much time."
Quill stood where he was, looking at Fury's back, at the black SUVs, and at New York's skyline in the distance.
Those towering buildings, those glass facades glittering in the sunlight, those landmarks that had already existed when he left more than thirty years ago.
He was back.
Earth.
His home.
But Gamora wasn't here.
He turned around and looked at the Benatar, at the battered ship that had accompanied him for so many years.
Its engines still radiated lingering warmth. Thanos's fingerprints still marked its hull. Gamora's final words still echoed in its cabins.
"Sorry."
Quill closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Then he opened them and walked toward the SUV.
Carol watched his back, something flickering in her blue eyes.
She turned to look at the sky—Earth's sky, blue, with white clouds, birds, and sunlight.
It was beautiful.