This was him enjoying a turf sandwich, really. A delicious, delicious "I am on solid ground and alive" turf sandwich.
"Just kinda enjoying the moment."
Enjoying a moment. Enjoying that there were moments. Rich turned over onto his back and stretched out in the grass, looking up at the false sky, lit up by its false sunlight. He dug his toes into the grass even more and breathed in deep.
"Before all this, I'd barely spent any time planetside in ages." A pause. "And the times I was planetside I didn't exactly get a chance to lounge around."
The first time he'd gone back home, that whole thing had been a mess. The world had been so crazy with all that registration nonsense and the Thunderbolts gunning for him and Robbie in that creepy suit. (He still felt guilty leaving him behind like that but he had to have contacted the other New Warriors like Vance by now so they could make sure he was okay, right?) He'd just been too...shell-shocked to deal with it all. Not that he really thought he had PTSD or anything like that but in that moment, the war had been too fresh to deal with conflict like that on the home front.
The other times he'd been home he'd been busy with the Skrull invasion, then with the Xandarian supercomputer in his head, the Worldmind, losing it and recruiting more Novas behind his back, then with the Many-Angled ones...
He hadn't had any time to slow down and actually enjoy it.
He still wasn't sure how he felt about the medicos forcing him, too. On the one hand, the grass felt great. On the other hand, every second he was laying there he felt almost...guilty. Surely, there had to be people out there that needed his help. Was it fair of him to just be laying around like this, like a lump? But maybe it didn't count as him turning his back on them if he was being forced to slow down for a few days.
"Also, I was dead."
He dropped that like it was perfectly normal for people to randomly come back to life.
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This was him enjoying a turf sandwich, really. A delicious, delicious "I am on solid ground and alive" turf sandwich.
"Just kinda enjoying the moment."
Enjoying a moment. Enjoying that there were moments. Rich turned over onto his back and stretched out in the grass, looking up at the false sky, lit up by its false sunlight. He dug his toes into the grass even more and breathed in deep.
"Before all this, I'd barely spent any time planetside in ages." A pause. "And the times I was planetside I didn't exactly get a chance to lounge around."
The first time he'd gone back home, that whole thing had been a mess. The world had been so crazy with all that registration nonsense and the Thunderbolts gunning for him and Robbie in that creepy suit. (He still felt guilty leaving him behind like that but he had to have contacted the other New Warriors like Vance by now so they could make sure he was okay, right?) He'd just been too...shell-shocked to deal with it all. Not that he really thought he had PTSD or anything like that but in that moment, the war had been too fresh to deal with conflict like that on the home front.
The other times he'd been home he'd been busy with the Skrull invasion, then with the Xandarian supercomputer in his head, the Worldmind, losing it and recruiting more Novas behind his back, then with the Many-Angled ones...
He hadn't had any time to slow down and actually enjoy it.
He still wasn't sure how he felt about the medicos forcing him, too. On the one hand, the grass felt great. On the other hand, every second he was laying there he felt almost...guilty. Surely, there had to be people out there that needed his help. Was it fair of him to just be laying around like this, like a lump? But maybe it didn't count as him turning his back on them if he was being forced to slow down for a few days.
"Also, I was dead."
He dropped that like it was perfectly normal for people to randomly come back to life.