Work Text:
Emotional Damage (new scars)
***
When Thor was a young boy, he prided himself on every injury that left behind a scar. It’s partly why he didn’t mind Loki’s mischief that got him into scrapes—sometimes quite literally. But in battles, during war, the scars a warrior obtained were only viewed as a great honor. Thor has spent many a night with his comrades and friends, rehashing stories of old scars and attempting to outdo one another by turning them into exaggerated, harrowing tales of bravery and near-deaths.
But if there’s something Thor has learned over the years—centuries, rather—it’s that scars aren’t always visible. And the sources of those scars, the ones that reside deep inside the heart, are oftentimes the most brutal of all.
Thor is no stranger to loss. In fact, the two of them are old friends at this point. Unfortunately, knowing the pain and heartache that the loss of loved ones brings does nothing to ease it when it happens again. And again.
And again.
If anything, the pain becomes worse; the sharp knife of loss cutting so deep that one wonders if they’ll ever truly be able to overcome it. It’s like a poison that eats at you from the inside out, that constricts around your heart and squeezes until there’s nothing left there but raw, unadulterated grief. It ebbs and flows at times, but never truly fades. There’s no replacing what was lost.
But Thor thought all of that was over after the Avengers’ last stand against Thanos. It wasn’t as though there were many people in his circle that remained by that point, anyway. Losing Tony and Natasha was just another twist to the knife that permanently resides in his heart. Leaving Earth again to travel with the Guardians seemed like a good way to also leave behind the pain and suffering that’s followed him for years. Of course, it’s never that easy.
Jane’s death, a new scar, now forever etched into his heart.
It’s her birthday today—or it would have been, were she still here. Thor sometimes wonders if he’s been cursed by the gods, considering the fact that he’s tragically lost almost everyone he has ever held dear. His entire family, most of his friends…his true love. There seems to be no escaping the grief that is set on following him—it hovers over him like a cloud. Always present, always there.
Now, Thor is good at pretending. He can fake a smile and laugh as well as the next person; his cluelessness in social situations only lends to the idea that despite everything he’s been through, he has overcome it with all the strength of a mighty Asgardian warrior.
Some days he thinks that nothing could be further from the truth. Today is one of those days.
He sits in his giant, comfy chair in the dead of night, staring at the wall as he imagines Jane’s gorgeous smile, part of him wants nothing more than to drink. Drink until he forgets, until reality fades and he can pretend that they’re all still here and actually believe it.
But he can’t. He’s not allowed to be an irresponsible, grief-ridden god anymore. And the reason for that is standing in front of him.
Thor straightens up in his chair, clearing his throat as he tries to force away the memories. “Love, what—what are you doing up at this hour?” He’s not exactly sure what time it is, but he knows that she should be asleep. Unless… “Did you have a bad dream?” It’s not entirely uncommon for the girl to awaken with tears or panic and come seek him out after a nightmare. After all, she’s been through so much herself—and powers or not, she’s still just a child. One who has lost her father and everything she knew.
Love just shrugs, shuffling forward and climbing into Thor’s open arms. She makes herself comfortable on his lap, leaning her head against one of his broad shoulders. Her mouth twists into a frown as she glances up at him. “Are you sad?”
Thor startles a bit at the unexpected question. His initial reaction is to lie, to tell her that he’s fine and she shouldn’t be worrying about him.
But the weight is too heavy tonight. “Yes…yes, I suppose I am.”
“Me too,” she says, her fingers playing with a loose thread on Thor’s shirt.
They sit in silence for a few minutes. Neither asks the other the why behind their declarations. There’s an understanding between them that Thor almost hates, because this little girl shouldn’t have to know what this grief feels like.
It’s quiet for so long that he thinks she might have drifted back off to sleep, but then he hears her little sigh, and she says, “Uncle Thor?”
“Hm?”
“Will it ever stop being sad?”
Thor sighs, immediately understanding all the implications of the question and wishing he could say yes. Instead, he shifts the girl slightly in order to bring his left arm into view, turning it over so that the small, pinkish line on the inside of his forearm is visible. “You see this? It’s a scar. It can happen when you get hurt badly. I was cut with a sword right here many years ago, and it took a long time to heal. But you can still see exactly where it was.”
Love gently runs her fingers over the exposed skin.
“Well, sometimes, the same thing happens to your heart," Thor continues. He hopes his explanation of such a concept is adequate for a child. "When you lose someone you love, or something really bad happens, you feel that same sort of pain inside. And as time passes, it will begin to heal, but it will never be the same as it was before—and just like a real scar, it may always be more tender and obvious, even after it has had years and years to heal.” He pauses. “Does that make sense?”
She nods slowly against his shoulder. "The newer scars hurt worse," she says, her lilting voice holding a depth of emotion and maturity far too mature for someone her age.
Thor smiles grimly. "Yes."
She wraps her arms around him in a tight hug, and somehow the gesture drowns out the roar of pain in Thor's heart, a familiar warmth overtaking it.
With all he's lost, he had come to terms with the fact that he'd ever share a connection like this with anyone ever again. As much as he longed for a family, with the way things turned out in his relationship with Jane, he never thought he'd have the opportunity to become a father. Yet here he is. The circumstances leading to the situation were tragic, and Thor wishes it hadn't all happened the way it did, but he's thankful that amidst the horror they were forced to face, they found each other.
He's so grateful for Love—without her, he doesn't know what Jane's death might have driven him to do. They've so quickly become each other's lifelines.
Thor presses a soft kiss to his girl's hair. They slip back into silence, each lost in their own minds, processing the ones they've lost, the scars they've gained. And Thor comforts himself with the thought that one day, these new scars will be old, and they'll forever hold the bittersweet memories of the ones they lost and remind them of their endurance—the strength they found in each other to make it through the hardest days.
Happy birthday, dear Jane. I will always love you.