A/N: I thought we needed to know more about Olaf, and what kind of life he's lived through. Being around 24 years old when World War 2 broke out, I thought the opportunity to write about Olaf juggling the war and what being a god means was ripe.

I hope you all enjoy it!


The four Johnson brothers didn't know how lucky they had it. Sure, there was no denying that their god powers got them into trouble at the best of times, but at least they would live out relatively normal-length lives. The perpetual youth that being Baldr brought Olaf Johnson WAS valuable, but sometimes Olaf wished he didn't have to skip out of town for several years so as not to draw suspicion to his very slow aging process. It wasn't pleasant watching everyone else grow old and irrelevant, either. On his sadder days he looked forward to the idea that Axl might die prematurely and he wouldn't have to suffer his curse for a second longer. At least then, people would be the ones mourning HIM, not the other way around.

It wasn't time to dwell on that, however! It was time for Olaf to have another joint. He was settled in his little den in Mike's bar. Mike had given up trying to encourage Olaf to actually find a place of his own, and truth be told, Mike enjoyed the stability of having Olaf around permanently. He'd had little of his family members sticking around in the past, so Olaf made a nice change.

Upstairs, Axl was helping Mike out in the bar, working off his substantial bar tab. The only customers in the bar, however, were Ty and Anders. The two of them were immensely enjoying getting their baby brother to rush around the bar, changing their mind every few minutes.

"Can you get us a glass of the special 2008 sav that you've got going?...On second thought, better make that the 2009," Anders said suddenly, just as Axl was pouring the wine in the glass.
"Fuck off! You get it yourself if you're going to be a dick about ordering," Axl grumbled, pushing the glass across the bar to Anders.
"That's not very good customer service, though, is it Axl?" Ty smirked, taking a sip from the glass of scotch that he had ummed and ahhed for the best part of 20 minutes over whether or not to have ice with it (he eventually settled for ice) while Axl stood impatiently with the open bottle, waiting for the okay to pour.

"This is actually costing me money, you know, unless you want to pay for something every once in a while?" Mike suggested sarcastically. He had his feet up on a table and was also secretly enjoying watching Axl ferreting around after Ty and Anders, although he'd never admit it. Ty and Anders exchanged looks.

"Nah," they said, clinking their glasses together.
"Where's Olaf? I thought he'd be all up for the free alcohol and making me sweat to get it for him," mused Axl.
"Olaf was looking a bit down, and I didn't want to disturb him. He knows where we are, and he certainly knows he needs to come up here if he wants alcohol," Mike replied.

"Olaf being down, that's not like him, is it?" Anders asked, aiming a questioning look at Mike.
Mike shrugged.
"Who knows? I think normally when he feels like this he goes for a surf."
"Well, then why isn't he going for a surf?" Ty inquired.
"I don't know, why don't you go ask him!" Jesus. His brothers were grown men, and yet sometimes they relied on Mike for basic common sense.

Before anyone else could respond, they were interrupted by a young woman entering the bar.
"You're a bit young here to be in a bar, aren't you?" Anders said, but his tone was more flirtatious than accusatory. Ty rolled his eyes. The girl either was oblivious to Anders' suggestive tone, or chose to ignore it.

"Oh! No, I'm 20," she said, pulling out a driver's license and showing it to Axl at the bar. Anders subtly tried to lean over her shoulder to catch her name, but he nearly fell off his stool in the process. Ty sniggered as Anders balanced himself.

"We're actually closed for staff training today, sorry," Mike informed her. He wasn't going to let loose with Axl at the bar until he could be sure that Axl had it 100% under control.
"That's okay, I'm not here to drink. I'm looking for an Olaf Johnson?" The four brothers exchanged glances. They had seen this scenario all too many times before when it came to Olaf.

"Look, love, if you're knocked up and you're wanting money, you're wasting your time. You're not going to get jackshit from Olaf," Anders said, shaking his head.
"I'm not pregnant! I'm here on behalf of my great-grandmother, who knew him." This was not what they had expected. Apart from the odd vague story about his past misadventures, and a little about their grandmother, the Johnson brothers knew very little about Olaf's life and people who were important to him. Least of all people who understood the truth about him.

"This is a bit of an odd place for someone who's nearly a hundred to hang out, isn't it?" she asked, looking around the bar. Okay. So she didn't know that Olaf didn't age. It was safe to assume that she didn't know about Olaf being a god.

"I'm not sure that he's here, actually, uh…what was your name?" Mike asked. She turned to him.
"Sorry. I'm Jess."
"Right. Jess. Yeah, he's not actually here at the moment," Mike lied.
"I know he doesn't age. Nana wouldn't explain why, but she and my gran told me how he just stays looking young." Jess was young, but she knew when people were lying to her. Her great-grandmother had also informed her that those close to Olaf would try and hide him from her, but that she was to keep hassling them until she saw him in person. The brothers were stricken. It was evident that even if Jess knew nothing about the Norse gods, her great-grandmother did. In fact, her great-grandmother was most likely a goddess herself.

"Go get Grandpa, Axl," Mike instructed Axl.

Axl headed downstairs to Olaf's little den. Olaf was sitting in a chair, gazing intently at the unlit joint in his hand.
"Olaf. Come upstairs. There's someone here for you." Olaf lifted his head slowly to look at his youngest grandson.
"I didn't get another girl pregnant, did I?"

"No. Unless you did 70 years ago." Olaf blinked at Axl. His grandsons rarely made references to his past before they were born.
"What?!"
"Seriously, come upstairs. You're going to want to see this." Olaf swiftly got to his feet, dropping his joint on the floor, forgotten. He followed Axl up to the bar, and the reactions of both Jess and Olaf were equally as strong. Olaf didn't say anything, but he stopped in his tracks, looking positively haunted.

Jess, on the other hand, let out a gasp. "You look EXACTLY the same as you did in the pictures with Nana! You truly haven't aged a day!"
"You look just like Dora," Olaf breathed. He still looked completely sick to his stomach, but he remedied this by sitting down on one of the stools in the bar.
"Why are you here? Where's Dora?"

Jess, for the first time, looked unhappy.
"Nana passed away yesterday morning," she said quietly. "But her last request was for me to pass on this message to you." She handed Olaf a sealed envelope. Olaf tore it open, and pulled out the note. It only took him a minute or so to read it, and he pulled it away from his face to stare in utter disbelief at Jess.

"What? What does it say?" Axl asked on behalf of his brothers. Olaf's eyes flicked to Axl, and then back to Jess.

"I think it's about time I properly told you about my time in World War II."


A/N: This chapter was just really a build-up for what most of the story is going to be about. It won't all be set in current day, in fact from now on it should mainly be set in the late 1930s/early 1940s during the war.