Chapter Text
Thor’s return to Earth had been all over the papers, but none of the Avengers had gotten so much as a word from him until two weeks after the Dark Elves fell. It was then that Thor showed up at Stark Tower, looking glum as hell, and beseeching (Thor’s word) Tony for temporary lodging until he could figure out what he was going to do with his life. Tony had absolutely insisted they call over the others for a ‘debrief’ though it was quickly apparent once they arrived that ‘debrief’ was Stark-speak for a table full of Chinese take-out and buckets of beer.
It got late, the story was told, all the way up through Loki’s honorable death aiding Thor, and Thor’s own decision to pass up the throne. His Midgardian friends had been skeptical concerning Loki but were far more supportive that his friends on Asgard when it came to his talk with his father.
“Does this mean we’re finally going to meet Jane?” Pepper asked with a knowing smile, sitting cross-legged at Tony’s feet and leaning her head against his knee, as it had gotten quite late.
“Not soon,” Thor said. “She is unhappy with me. She believes I sacrificed my destiny for her and insists she does not want to see me again until I take my rightful place as king.”
“She’ll get over it,” Natasha said, between bites of noodles held expertly aloft between a pair of chopsticks. “We do that for the pretty ones.”
“You could always send her flowers,” Steve suggested.
“Or a telescope. Girls like telescopes. Great big ones,” Tony added, well into his seventh or eighth beer of the evening. “It’s the size that counts. The bigger the better.”
“She’s an astrophysicist. She’s probably got enough telescopes,” Bruce pointed out, looking over at Tony with a half smile. He wasn’t remotely surprised he’d insist bigger was better.
“I appreciate your help, my friends,” Thor said, “but for now I will respect Jane’s wishes. There are other matters here I should attend. England needs cleaning.”
“You’re going from being the Prince of Asgard to a London street sweep?” Clint slurred slightly, lifting his eyes from his glass. “I think I saw that movie once. Wouldn't pay to see it again.”
“There’s nothing wrong with some hard work,” Steve pointed out. “I can get away for a week or two to help if you don’t mind the company.”
“Maybe three more of us can go, and we can be the new One Direction,” Tony said, completely distracted from reality by the bottle in his hand. “Thor would make a really excellent Niall. You know, if Niall was 6’6” and carried around a big hammer...”
“They let you give out one award at the Grammys and now you’re the expert,” Bruce said, shaking his head in amusement.
Tony laughed at his own joke, but the blank stares from everyone else made him smirk. “Best Song Ever? That’s What Makes you Beautiful? No?”
“No,” Natasha said, knowing enough to blink hard to try and get the image out of her head.
“That’s a shame. Bruce would make a great Harry,” Tony said dismissively.
“Ignore him,” Pepper said, rising to her feet and then tugging Tony up to his. “Get a few drinks in him and he has the musical taste of a thirteen year old girl.”
“I resemble those remarks,” Tony said smartly, not at all resistant to the idea of following Pepper to his bedroom. They’d been cooling things off lately, but a tipsy romp in bed every now and then seemed to keep them on track. “Thor, you good? Everyone else remember how to get to your rooms? Remember kids, drinking and flying don’t mix.”
“I am fine, Stark,” Thor replied with a small smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Sleep well, friend.”
Tony shot him a drunken smile. “With any luck, sleep is the last thing on the list.” And then he was gone.
Clint and Natasha walked off toward rooms somewhere on the floor they were on now, while he, Bruce, and Steve headed for the elevator.
“It’s good to have you back,” Bruce said as they travelled down a floor. “I think even the ‘other guy’ missed you. As much as he can miss anyone.”
The sentiment made Thor genuinely smile for the first time in weeks. “I missed all of you as well. It has been a difficult month.”
He missed Bruce’s reply as the elevator flooded with the first ear-piercingly loud tones of whatever One Direction song Jarvis liked best. Tony had left it up to his discretion.
~~~~
England proved every bit the distraction Thor needed over the next two weeks. He and Steve helped carry load after load of rubble, each doing the work of more than ten men, and far more able than any crane or bulldozer. Tony had a flat in London he’d been happy to lend them, and had flown over twice to spend evenings there. It was the night after Tony’s second visit that Steve got out of his shower, dressed in some casual pajamas and walked out to the balcony to sit with Thor.
Between the good sort of exhaustion that came with hard work, and Thor’s own quiet grief over the deaths of his mother and brother, they hadn’t done much talking apart from the typical dinner conversation of ‘what’s the biggest thing you lifted today?’
“You’ve been quiet,” Steve said. “Which is a nice change from New York, don't get me wrong. If you have something on your mind, though, I’d listen.”
It was chilly, and Steve grabbed a couple of blankets from the chair next to his, pulling one over himself and handing one to Thor.
“This degree of cold does not bother me, but thank you the same. I would speak of my family matters, but I do not know where to begin.”
Steve held out the blanket again.
“Sometimes blankets are about more than being warm,” Steve said. “I’ve never really found a better cure for homesickness.”
“I could go home anytime. That I am here is my choice.”
“I don’t necessarily mean homesick for Asgard the way it is now. More like, homesick for Asgard the way it was. Before Loki went off the deep end, and your mother...” Steve trailed off, unsure if he should continue.
“Mother is in Valhalla now,” Thor said. “I should not grieve her or begrudge her that.”
“It doesn’t begrudge her anything to miss her,” Steve said. “And I know the gang wasn't exactly eager to hear about Loki doing the right thing, but it’s okay to miss him too. He was your brother and it sounds like he fought pretty well in the end.”
“Aye, he did,” Thor said, looking up at the stars as he pulled the blanket around himself. “I miss him. I miss them both.”
It was the first time he’d admitted as much since he’d arrived on Earth.
“You are a wise man, Steve Rogers,” Thor said, wrapping the blanket more tightly around himself and feeling mildly surprised that it did seem to alleviate some of his burden. “A credit to Midgard.”
“You can thank my mother for that one. I doubt she’s in Valhalla but I like to think she’s somewhere equally nice.”
Thor smiled. “I am very sure she is.”
~~~~
Another week went by, and Greenwich was nearly clear of rubble. Steve and Thor had made a big impression on the locals, who in typical British fashion gave them space when it was needed, and accolades and grateful nods when it was not. Steve was working at one end of a long green space between buildings when a blast from behind him was enough to knock him flat on his face. He was up on his feet in an instant, running toward the explosion instead of away as the rest of the workers were doing. When he got to the source of the blast, Thor was on his back, eyes closed, breathing heavily and entirely unresponsive. An alien looking piece of technology, no bigger than a brick was in Thor’s hand and when Steve reached for it it glowed bright green for a few seconds and then went dark. It was strangely light in weight, and Steve cautiously picked it up then laid it several feet away as the sound of sirens pricked his ears.
What kind of weapon could take out Thor this spectacularly, he didn’t know. But he did know he didn’t want to be holding it if it went off again.
~~~~ On Asgard~~~~
Loki’s first foray back to consciousness did not go well for him. The blast of pure electricity that hit him in the chest had him curling in on himself and moaning in pain when he realized both his wrists were chained to the floor and he’d nearly wrenched them out of socket trying to protect himself. The abuse had lasted longer this time. His tormenter grew impatient for the information he thought was locked inside him.
“What are you waiting for?” an eerily familiar voice demanded. “Thor to save you? Is that it?”
“No--” Loki choked on the word, and hated that on any level, yes. The answer was yes. If not Thor, then who? “No. He would... not... come.”
“Oh, he’ll come,” the voice mocked him. “And then I will have my questions answered.”
Another vicious kick, this time to his face, and Loki willed the darkness to envelope him once more. Anything was better than a gloating god. He should know.