mjolnir_retriever: Thor, unconscious or dead, with his eyes closed and some bloody scrapes on his face. (this is a good death)
Thor, son of Odin ([personal profile] mjolnir_retriever) wrote2012-09-20 05:48 pm

(no subject)

No more dodging. No more delaying.

He pauses only once, at the sight of Volstagg's shield abandoned in the dirt. Thor stoops to pick it up. It has history of its own, this shield; Volstagg truly is injured, to leave it behind unnoticed. The others must be too, either hurt or deeply rattled by this fight against their own friend, against the Destroyer that guards Asgard.

Enough of this. Thor lets the shield fall at his feet, and walks forward into the center of the smoldering main street.

He can hear Jane Foster's voice lifted in shock behind him. Perhaps they've noticed what he's doing, and perhaps not. Thor's attention is focused on the Destroyer, and on the quicksilver intelligence that set it in motion. Loki is surely watching from Asgard. He would not have set this in motion without staying to see it through. In pranks and in battle alike, Loki likes to see the result of his actions.

"Brother," Thor says, to the Destroyer, to Loki beyond, to his whole family it feels. He lets his heart show in his voice, for in truth Thor has never had much gift at concealing that. His regret, his love, his deep wishing. "Whatever I have done to wrong you..."

The Destroyer kicks aside a car to clear the path between them. Its metal face is closed for the moment, but fire still roils inside. The air bends in heat-waves around it.

"Whatever I have done to lead you to this... I am truly sorry."

He is.

He doesn't know what it is that he did, what caused this trouble, when it began and how long it's festered. But the situation should never have come to this.

"But these people are innocent," Thor says, and that's heart's truth too. It's just as important as his regret, maybe more so. He wills Loki to hear him, and to understand. "Taking their lives will gain you nothing."

The Destroyer is directly in front of him now. Its face opens, and fire roils and builds again. Thor halts too, setting himself against it as if they were true opponents, though his hands are empty at his sides. He stares into the flames, unflinching. "So take mine," he says, in sorrow, in love, in acceptance. "And end this."

The moment stretches.

And then, slowly, the building fire recedes. The metal gates of the Destroyer's face swing closed. It begins to turn away. Loki has called it off.

Thor finds himself smiling, just a little. My brother, he thinks.

Which is when the Destroyer's great metal arm lashes out, straight for Thor, and he wouldn't dodge even if he could. It strikes, and this puny mortal form is no match for such a blow. The world goes white in a soundless explosion of pain and motion.

He's flying, loose and uncontrolled, and then the ground strikes him and strikes again. Thor's tumbling, disoriented, with no notion of what's up or down, no control and no room for thought. The whole world is a topsy-turvy slamming muddle.

He blacks out for a moment, maybe.

When he comes back to himself, he's sprawled in the dirt, and his whole body hurts. It's not so bad, though -- he's going numb, and he feels strangely as if he's drifting, only loosely connected to himself. When he breathes in, things in his chest feel wrong. Something is broken, deep inside. Maybe many things.

Jane Foster is crouched over him, muttering some incoherent denial. Her hands flutter in the air over his face and neck.

"It's over," he tells her gently, and is distantly bemused by the cracked whisper that emerges.

Jane, lovely and stubborn and valiant, isn't a warrior to know death when she sees it. She's just a fighter, and the world will never make her back down. He loves her in this moment. "No," she insists. "It's not over."

"I mean," he tells her, and has to pull in another shallow breath. It feels like knives stabbing him. "You're safe."

Jane nods, snuffling back tears. "We're safe."


There are black shadows creeping around the edges of his vision. It can't be night already, can it? "It's over," he explains to Jane.

He'll just close his eyes for a moment.

Just to gather a few more words for Jane. For his other friends, if they need any. They should know. But if they do.


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