mjolnir_retriever: Thor and Coulson talking (son of Coul)
"We must go to the Bifrost site," Thor tells his friends. All his friends, but mostly his old comrades, the ones who will accompany him to Asgard, the ones who know what all this means. The ones who were betrayed too. All amusement has leached out of him now, leaving only grim anger. "I would have words with my brother."

He notices the approaching hum, but it's nothing dangerous and nothing Asgardian, so it hardly demands attention at the moment. )

Thor strides into the maelstrom of wind. The Bifrost catches him up on its rushing path, and he flies, Sif and the Warriors Three half a heartbeat behind, between worlds and stars and towards home. Towards a reckoning.
mjolnir_retriever: Thor in armor looking shiny with a dramatic sky behind him (Thor Odinson of Asgard is shiny)
He's sinking gradually, comfortably into blackness. It feels like sleep, like floating in a warm bath; all the pain and noise drifts somewhere above him. Time stretches into irrelevance.

Something tugs at his mind, from far away. )

"We must go to the Bifrost site," he tells his friends. All his friends, but mostly his old comrades, the ones who will accompany him to Asgard, the ones who know what all this means. The ones who were betrayed too. All amusement has leached out of him now, leaving only grim anger. "I would have words with my brother."
mjolnir_retriever: Thor in t-shirt and plaid and jeans, walking forward on a devastated street (showdown at the OK corral)
Since long before Thor was born, the Destroyer has lain hidden in Asgard's treasure vault. It can be sent out at need, and has been, but mostly it remains behind its screening wall there. It's both one of the great treasures of the realm and a last protection for the rest, under normal circumstances. A great figure of hollow metal and sorcery, shaped like a man but twice as tall as an Asgardian, it has no true brain nor personality. But the magic in it will follow simple orders.

Protect. )

One last glance at his friends -- old and new, all brave and valiant, all dear to him, some since childhood and some only in these last days of Midgardian strangeness -- and then he goes to finish this.
mjolnir_retriever: Thor in t-shirt and plaid and jeans, walking forward on a devastated street (showdown at the OK corral)
The sky over New Mexico is clear and blue -- except in one spot north of town, where a stormy spiral of dark grey reaches down a straight finger toward the dry ground. Thor can't feel the storm under his skin the way he's always taken for granted, can't feel the changes in the atmosphere and the potential building in ions and airflow, but this isn't a normal storm anyway. This is the Bifrost opening.

The question is why, and for whom. )

It's good to have his friends at his back again. Even if he can't stand at their side.
mjolnir_retriever: Volstagg, Sif, Fandral, and Hogun, with a rainbow arching over them (comrades in arms)
Jane corners Erik as soon as he's sufficiently alert to embark on an argument of great passion and duration about what exactly the storm surrounding the Bifrost site was, and what the Bifrost is, and how the cosmos is arranged, and what the other scientists of Earth will accept and under what circumstances. The word evidence comes up a lot.

Thor drinks coffee, and (with the aid of directions and some discreet experimentation with the bright blue soap) cleans the dishes, and makes more coffee, and listens with half his attention. )

Thor turns towards the glass doors, seeing out of the corner of his eye his friends falling in behind him, following his lead -- and that's when the sky over the desert opens up.
mjolnir_retriever: Jane Foster, Darcy Lewis, and Erik Selvig hurrying down a corridor. (idk my scientist bffs)
The area Jane Foster calls their kitchen is entirely different from the kitchens Thor and Loki used to sneak into to beg or filch a snack.

(Stealing is wrong, brother, Thor used to argue, tempted and scowling to cover it, and Loki would roll his eyes and contend that it was only training, just like the tasks their armsmasters set them, and if they'd be given the food for asking how was it wrong to sneak in without disturbing anyone with requests? )

Thor returns to the breakfast table with a lighter heart. If he must leave this place tomorrow, at least he has made amends where he caused harm.
mjolnir_retriever: Thor and Erik Selvig talking (Thor's face in profile, Erik listening to him) (learn to ask the right questions)
Milliways deposits them back on the sidewalk of Puente Antiguo, right outside the bar. Thor's acquired a jacket of something called flannel -- at Erik's drunken insistence, though Thor likes the weight of it, and is bemused to find that in this mortal form he notices the chill of the desert night.

Erik Selvig, who's only acquired water and some more time for the alcohol to drift through his bloodstream, stays in ebullient high spirits right up until he faceplants onto the sidewalk. )

"Yes," he says, "of course," and gestures for her to lead the way.
mjolnir_retriever: The lower half of Thor's face, looking sad and weary. (drawn lines)
The car's journey is long, though not as long as it was in Jane Foster's van, with the way uncertain. Thor changed obediently (though the space is very cramped) into the fresh t-shirt and button-down Erik gives him. Erik seems to think the combination is too light for the desert night, but Thor doesn't care. The clothing is insubstantial, but Thor doesn't feel the cold; perhaps he's still Asgardian in this.

Perhaps.

Neither of them talks much on the drive back to Puente Antiguo.

But true to his word, once they're in town Erik Selvig steers them to a place of drinking that he calls a bar. Like Milliways, Thor thinks, but it's not much like. The same long table called a bar, with stools set before it, and other seats at smaller tables around the perimeter, but that's where the similarities end. This place is dark and dingy, full of loud music and sharp smoke and flashing lights whose colors would remind Thor of home, if their patterns weren't so alien. There are men behind him playing a game of knocking small balls about on a green table.

Erik leads the way to the bar, and asks the barkeep for two beers. They come in bottles of dark brown glass, chilly to the touch. Thor drinks and finds the brew thin and sour and weak. But he's not so ill-mannered as to complain of a gift, and he's not of a mind to complain of much right now anyway.

He drinks slowly, Erik Selvig at his shoulder nursing his own bottle.

It's a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. These people have been good to him, however little he might have earned their kindness.
mjolnir_retriever: Thor bruised and vulnerable, looking downwards (battered and bowed)
Thor doesn't know how much time passes, after Loki leaves. After he says farewell to his brother for perhaps the last time.

His body seems numb; everything outside it is very faraway. His head is a sea of black despair.

His father is dead. The truce is broken. Loki, who has never wanted to rule, is burdened with Asgard's throne when war -- disastrous war, a war that was hard-won when Odin was in his prime -- batters at its very borders. His father didn't believe that Thor loved him and intended (stupidly, stupidly though he went about it) only good. His mother does not want to see him.

As well she might not. Thor is justly exiled, justly disowned. He thought he was doing the honorable thing, but instead he has brought about his father's death and endangered everything he loves.

No wonder he's no longer worthy to lift Mjolnir.

The humans question him again, but he barely listens, and he makes them no answer. They go away again.

He has nothing to offer them.
mjolnir_retriever: Thor stuffing half a pancake in his mouth with more enthusiasm than table manners (OM NOM NOM)
Thor steps through the door from Milliways, and he finds himself where he expected to be all along: in the bleached-bright sun of a Midgardian desert, surrounded by the dull grey stone of the lot where this hospital's conveyances are stored. Midgard's sun is so different from Asgard's, as if the light itself is stripping color from the world.

He strides out across the square. )

He doesn't know what made her change her mind, but he's glad of it. Jane Foster, even if she doubts his sanity, is far better company than any steed. He's smiling again, bright and glad, as he opens the van's door.

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Thor, son of Odin

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