Chapter 2 — Your Space Boyfriend is on the Phone
Thor leaned over the gas station counter.
"I've um… I've had an emergency, and I don't have any coins for the pay phone outside," he said, squirming nervously. He'd returned to his Midgardian clothes, which — miracle of miracles — were mostly dry. "Is there a phone I could use, or—"
"You all right, son?" The old man behind the counter asked, frowning. He made a gesture at the cut on Thor's forehead.
Thor nodded. "My brother and I— we had an accident. Car accident. Because of the storm. We're all right, we're fine… I just want to call a friend, get a ride home." The lies left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he got the sinking feeling that they hadn't been very convincing, because the old man just stared at him.
After a moment, the man stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bill, then pecked some keys on the cash register to open it and exchange the bill for change. He held the coins out to Thor but stopped just shy of handing them over. He gave Thor a long, hard look.
"Are you Thor?"
Thor hesitated, then finally said, "Yes."
"That was all you had to say, you know." He handed over the coins. "Off savin' the world?"
"I'm trying," Thor said.
"Can't ask for more than that." As Thor turned for the door, the man said, "Hold on." He puttered over to one of the aisles and picked something up from a bottom shelf, then walked over to hand it to Thor.
A first-aid kit.
All at once Thor remembered how much he loved humans, how much he loved Earth. He blinked back tears.
"Where's your hammer?"
Thor stiffened. "It was stolen," he not-quite-lied.
The man's face twitched, "You know, we've got a myth about a time when that happened—"
Thor winced, "The uh… the one about me and Loki and a wedding dress?"
The man's grin escaped despite all attempts to hold it back. "Is that one true?"
Thor felt a smile creeping onto his own face. "It was Heimdall's idea."
He left as the man cackled with laughter, feeling heartened despite everything.
o
Loki wasn't where Thor had left him, despite the fact that Thor specifically remembered telling him not to move. Despite the fact that Thor was relatively certain he could barely walk. Not unusually, worry fought with annoyance for domination where Loki was concerned.
Thor tried to remember whether get help or make sure Loki isn't dying was higher on his to-do list and supposed that the latter was slightly more urgent. Maybe more than slightly — Thor's eyes picked out a few drops of dark liquid on the pavement, then a trail of them. He followed them around the building until he saw a door — cracked open, with pale greenish light spilling out. He noted a smudge of dark blood on the handle and he pushed the door open, slowly.
Thor heard retching, and a wet splattering sound. Loki was bent over the toilet, his body heaving as he gulped for air. After a moment, he swallowed hard, flipped the toilet seat down, flushed, and sat, putting his face in his hands.
Thor gave him a moment before walking in. He put his fingers beneath Loki's chin and lifted it as gently as he could manage.
"When did you hit your head?" he asked, trying to angle Loki's face toward the light. His pupils looked normal.
"I didn't."
"Does it hurt?"
Loki pulled his face out of Thor's hands. "I don't have a concussion."
Thor sighed but said, "Okay." He crouched in front of Loki and plucked at his tunic. "Let me see how bad this is." Loki didn't fight him, which was good, because he didn't know if he had the energy to fight back. He undid the clasp at the front of the tunic and peeled the left half away from his skin, wincing as the fabric stuck to the wound. Absurdly, he kept the right half wrapped around himself, as if Thor had never seen his brother's naked chest before.
Maybe he was just cold. It was cold. Unlike Thor, Loki hadn't had a dry change of clothes.
In the dim light, the blood looked dark and strange. Thor did his best to clean the wound, which wasn't quite shallow (as Loki had described it) but at least didn't look to be life-threatening.
"Does this mean we're not fighting anymore?" Loki asked brightly, as Thor taped a gauze pad into place over the stab wound. Thor had the distinct urge to punch him in it.
"For the moment," Thor said, rising to go rinse his hands off in the sink.
"Momentary lapses in fighting each other to fight whoever interrupted us is the story of our lives."
"We didn't always fight," Thor said softly.
"Well, no," said Loki, as Thor helped him up, "I do remember occasional eating or sleeping."
Thor fought down a smile and tried to remind himself that this was the way that Loki did battle: distract, divert, disappear. The knife always came eventually.
They lapsed into silence as they made their way back outside. Thor sat his brother on the curb in front of the gas station and had turned toward the pay phone when he heard Loki speak.
"I didn't—" he cleared his throat. He wasn't looking at Thor. "I didn't mean for things to turn out this way."
How many times had Thor heard those words, at the end of one of Loki's pranks-gone-wrong? It was the closest Loki would ever come to an admission of guilt.
"No," said Thor, "I don't suppose you could have predicted Hela."
Loki took a breath, as if to protest, then let it go slowly. He was still looking out at the rain, and his shoulders slumped a little. Deflated. Thor itched to know what he would have said — why that, of all the barbs they'd exchanged today, had been the thing that hurt him.
o
In his long life, Thor had leveled mountains, slain great beasts, toppled tyrants, and defeated armies. How hard could it be to remember a series of numbers?
He had the receiver to his ear but his fingers hovered uncertainly above the buttons. He'd scoured his memory but only two phone numbers had come to mind and Natasha's had given him a no-longer-in-service message. Surely he knew Steve's, or Tony's, he thought. He could picture the phones themselves. Tony's state-of-the-art transparent Starkphone, Steve's SHIELD-issue flip phone that Tony called "stupidly outdated" and Steve called "makes phone calls and nothing else because I have a computer for the rest of that, dammit."
Surely he could remember. It had only been a couple of years — the blink of an eye.
Thor looked at the change in his hand, sighed, and plugged in the only other number he could remember.
The line rang. Please don't be screening your calls, he thought, pretty sure that was the correct term for "letting them go to voice mail and then never checking them."
There was a click and then a half-asleep, "Huh?"
"Darcy!" Thor said, relieved, "It's Thor. Don't hang up."
"Wha-at? I'm not gonna hang up on you. Holy crap how are you? It's been like twenty years. Whatever, I know you want to talk to Jane. JANE. YOUR SPACE BOYFRIEND IS ON THE PHONE—is there any more coffee by the way? Thanks."
Thor wanted to tell Darcy he loved her but couldn't find the words to not make it weird, so instead he said, "Thank you, Darcy. I hope the coffee's good."
"It's terrible, Eric made it like two hours ago. How's the search for the uh—the things. The magic—HEY."
There was the sound of a scuffle. "Give me—give—" and "I am HAVING a CONVERSATION—"
Then, "Thor?"
"Jane," he said. No other words would come.
There was a quiet moment in which Thor could hear Darcy grumbling about the theft of her property in the background. "Are you still there?" Jane asked. "Are you okay?" Darcy stopped talking.
"I'm here. I'm… I'll be fine—"
"Do you need help? What's wrong? What's happening?" Muffled, he heard "is he okay?"
They were so good, his friends. Thor's heart ached.
"I am okay," he said, "But I do need some help. This was the only number I could remember and I need to call… somebody." He tried to think of whose number they might reasonably have. Banner? Banner did science, right? Did he even have a phone? Was he still missing? "You don't have Tony Stark's number, do you?"
"I've got — hold on — I've got the uh… the business card for the CEO of Stark Industries? Darcy— no, Darcy I don't know what's going on, it's probably an Avengers thing. Stop. Oh, but it's— no… Virginia Potts? Is that helpful at all?"
"Yes! Yes, thank you. That's perfect." She read him the number and he repeated it. "Thank you. Everything's going to be fine."
"Are you sure?"
Thor hesitated.
"Thor?"
How much could he tell her? Where could he even start? "The Allfather is dead," he said, finally.
"Thor—" she was quiet for a moment, and then, "You're not alone, are you?"
He laughed a little. "No, uh. My brother's here. He's alive, apparently."
Another long pause. "That little shit." Then, "Oh my god, Thor. He didn't— He didn't—"
"No! No. He… he was just old." Thor thought of Stephen Strange, telling him that Odin had chosen to remain in exile. Thought of Odin, telling them that if Hela reached Asgard she'd be unstoppable. "Loki couldn't have known." That was it, that was what he'd decided, at least until Loki gave him a reason to think something else. He looked over at the curb in front of the gas station, where Loki was sitting, cautiously sipping the iced coffee that his bruised face had earned from the kindly gas station attendant.
"Are you… I mean… where are you?"
"I'm in Norway," Thor said.
"Norway?" (muffled, he heard Darcy say, "Oslo?") "Darcy, shh."
"Thank you, Jane," said Thor. "Thank Darcy for me." He didn't hang up. He didn't want to.
"Of course," she said. "I mean — it's just a phone number."
"For the love of god, Thor, PLEASE come kiss her you should SEE her FACE—"
"Oh my god, Darcy, shut up. Listen, Thor, I'm gonna let you go, I know you have to make a call, just… call me back, later, okay? Let me know you're okay."
"I love you." It slipped out, completely out of habit.
"Love you, too— I mean— um…" she hung up.
Thor hung up the pay phone.
"Smooth," he said to himself, rubbing his temples.
o
Pepper looked at him fondly over the Spider-Man suit blueprint he was nitpicking. "This is going to be done before dinner, right?" she prompted.
"Yeah, yeah. I mean, it's practically done now," Tony said. Practically. Every time he looked at it, he found something he needed to fix, just a little.
He tossed out the new glove design. "This is crap, the old one was fine, I don't know why I thought I should change it." Then he pulled it out of the trash and put it in his scraps folder, just in case.
Pepper grinned at him. "I'll set an alarm," she said, and kissed his cheek.
Tony opened up the new glove design again. Okay, not total trash. There were a couple of ideas he could use.
Pepper tapped at his phone.
"No, it's fine. I can leave this for later if I'm not done by tonight. It's date night." No, actually, it was better. He pulled it out of the scraps folder and put it back.
"I'll set two alarms."
"We're checking out that new sushi place, right?" Tony said. He hid the new gloves so he could look at the old gloves. Yeah, an improvement. Definitely. Maybe.
Pepper didn't answer.
"Sushi? Right?" Tony asked. Pepper was staring at her phone, which was buzzing. She waved her hand at him.
"Do I know anyone in Norway?"
Tony shook his head. "Let it go to voicemail," he said, as she answered it.
"Stark Industries, how can I help you?"
"Are you forwarding work calls to your cell on the weekends now because I thought we agreed—" Pepper put up her hand to silence him.
"Sweetheart, you're not a bother. He's right here. Hold on."
"Who's 'Sweetheart'?"
"It's Thor," said Pepper, turning over her phone. "He didn't have your number." Quieter, she said, "He sounds tired."
"What is it? Is it aliens? Robots? Odinson family drama? When did you get a phone? Why is your phone in Norway?"
"It's good to hear your voice, Tony."
Tony pretended he wasn't unexpectedly moved by that. "You okay? You sound tired."
"I don't even know where to start. Family drama? Yes. Aliens? Just one. Well. Me, too. And…" he trailed off.
"World in peril?" Tony asked. Pepper sighed.
"I'm afraid so."
"How bad are we talkin'?" He covered the mic and said, "FRIDAY, can I get a trace on this?" as he walked to a nearby computer screen.
"Right away, boss."
There was silence on the line.
"You still there, big guy?"
"Tony…"
"What? What is it?"
"Loki's here."
Tony suppressed a shudder and stretched his shoulders instead. "Him again," he said.
Pepper looked up from where she'd wandered off to give him space. Her eyes were wary. "New York?" she mouthed. God, she was sharp.
"No— He's not the problem—"
"Sure sounds like a problem," Tony snapped, more harshly than he'd intended.
Thor was silent again, and this time Tony didn't say anything. The display showed a map of Norway and a blinking dot on the coast was labeled incoming call.
"Tony…" the voice on the other end of the line was plaintive. Bright red warning lights were flashing in Tony's brain, and he heard again Thor saying it's good to hear your voice. The need to not alienate another friend fought viciously against his desire to never, ever get embroiled in another conflict involving aliens or Loki ever again.
"I'm sorry, Tony," Thor said, finally. "I shouldn't have called."
"Don't you dare hang up." Tony took a deep breath. "Tell me what's happening."
"My—our father died," Thor said, and Tony was unprepared for how his voice broke when he said it. He swore softly. "We have a sister, and — it's not fair, I know. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to Earth, but I don't… I don't know who else to call. The only numbers I could remember were Jane's intern — she got Pepper's number for me — and Natasha and her phone's out of service or something."
Tony was suddenly blisteringly angry.
"I'm gonna come get you," he said. "Don't move."
"I don't know where I am," Thor said, and that was somehow even worse.
"I traced the call. I'm on my way. Stay there."
"I'm sorry, Tony."
Tony mentally kicked himself. "Stay there. I'm coming." He didn't hang up the phone until he heard the click of the receiver on the other end.
Tony started for the door, he stopped, turned to Pepper, who was following him. "It's not enough that he broke up the team," he said, "But now — now — I am the only person on Earth Thor has to call for help. How messed up is that?"
"Tony," she said gently. He handed her phone back to her before he threw it. He was shaking.
"The only person on Earth. Where the hell is he? Where the hell is Banner? SHIELD imploded. Where the hell is Fury? Who's he supposed to go to? Ross? Ross called him a 'missing nuke,' he's not gonna give a shit if his dad died." Tony knew he was rambling and he didn't care. He was so angry at all of them. Thor wasn't just an Avenger, he was a friend.
"Quinjet's ready, boss," said FRIDAY.
Pepper squeezed his hand. He didn't even remember grabbing it but he was really glad he did.
"I'll cancel our dinner plans," she said.
Tony sighed.
"It's fine. We'll get takeout. The usual for me and you and… what, like, everything for Thor?" She smiled at him.
"It's not just Thor," he admitted. "His brother's with him."
"So two of everything," she said. She frowned. "Brother, huh? The one that tried to take over the world?"
"The very same."
"Is he trying to take over the world again?"
"Thor says he's not a problem. Or not the problem. I don't know what's going on. There's a sister now, maybe? I don't know. I just know he sounded weird and his dad died and he doesn't have anyone else so I'm gonna go get him."
She was nodding. "Yeah, of course. Go, go. Keep me updated. Bring him home."