Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

Chapter 3: Remember, Remember

Thor laughed loudly and held the baby firmly in his arms, raised the child high above his head and smiled all the wider as the infant squealed with joy, giggled in a manner that was perfectly sweet and incredibly contagious. He leaned back on the couch, ignoring Tony as he called to him, asking if Sparky would like a bit of scotch. The sound fell upon deaf ears, as did the clattering of the glasses and the ice, and Thor drew the child to his face, scraped Bradley's soft little cheeks with the stubble on his chin. Again, the baby cooed and squeezed his eyes shut in utter delight.

The prince had always loved children, had thought that they held a sort of purity to them, the sort that was often forgotten once they grew out of their old habits and clothes and became stalwart men and women. The thunderer had always laughed, had always enjoyed even the most unimportant things in life, but he could not recall a time where he had bellowed quite like this. Not since he'd been a small boy darting across Asgard.

Bradley pawed at his face with tiny hands, and Thor laid the child down upon his broad chest, peered over at Jane who sat at the bar with Darcy, turned and smiled at him. Thor grinned back, sat up and held the baby in one arm as he strode across the room. He took a seat beside the two, putting Jane in the middle, and leaned onto the counter top just as Tony slid the drinks towards the women. Jane seized hers almost immediately, raising it a bit and thanking the man for what must have been the third time, whereas Darcy stared in utter shock at the billionaire who quickly yanked the phone out of his pocket to take a call.

"Yeah?" he said, and walked around the bar to stand at the massive windows. He pulled open a sliding door and stared down at the city for a minute. "Well, damn, Gerald, you should know I can't see the freaking thing from here... Hey, hey! Don't... Don't yell at me, Yoda." Thor was certain that that was a term meant to insult shorter folk. "It ain't my fault you didn't– No, I can't come down there now! I've got company! I... Yeah. Yeah, I'll be down at four, all right? Call Janet and tell her. She'll know what to do. All right."

Tony turned and groaned loudly as he hung up, went on chattering to Pepper about how everyone in the goddamn world wanted him to solve their problems. Not that he wasn't flattered and all, having everyone fawning over him, but that there were just some days, like today, that people weren't supposed to call.

Thor smiled, caught sight of Jane as she began sucking down the drink, probably to avoid laughing. And Darcy, just as before, stared wide-eyed at the Iron Man.

"Are you all right?" the thunderer said, leaning onto the counter to intercept her gaze.

Darcy's eyes did not move as she nodded, leaned backwards a bit to continue staring. "It's him," she whispered, and Thor thought that she looked to be in some sort of trance. "It's really him. He's Tony fucking Stark."

Jane choked on an ice cube then, spit the thing back into her glass and coughed, turned to slap her friend on the shoulder. "Hush up!"

Tony sauntered back behind the bar then, looking rather thrilled as Bradley struggled in Thor's grasp, wailed and leaned forward across the counter, reaching for his father. The man took his son in his arms, balanced him against his hip and continued to pour drinks for himself and Pepper, reaching beneath the bar to grab a third glass and shove one of the full ones at Thor. The prince nodded his thanks.

"So, the princess hasn't said a damn thing all day," Tony remarked, and Thor and Jane exchanged looks. The billionaire pointed to Darcy who really should have stopped staring by now. "Think she needs a massage, or something?"

"Yes, please!" Darcy all but shouted, rattling the counter top as she hopped up from her seat.

"Yeah, sorry hon," Tony said, and made a face of mock disappointment. "I would, but I'm kind of otherwise occupied." He held Bradley up and the infant drooled, in a long line of saliva, onto the bar. "You know. Smoking hot girlfriend, drooling baby boy. The works."

Before a one of them could respond to that, let alone laugh, Steve and Bruce came up in the elevator, the scientist's eyes wide as he crossed the room swiftly, came to grab Tony by the arm.

"Something tells me the Jolly Green Giant has a problem," Tony said, and the Captain made a sour face.

But Bruce actually laughed, the way Thor might have, and smiled. "Damn, Stark," he said, shaking his head. "You weren't kidding about this place. It... It really is Oz."

"Candy Land," Tony corrected him. "Remember? We had this conversation while everybody's favorite mendacious douchebag was trying to crush us all like ants."

Thor's brow furrowed, not the least bit happy with the comment even as bright and cheery jazz music came on over the loud speakers. He pushed off the bar, left the stool to spin about as he moved to the sliding glass door and yanked it open. As he went, he heard Tony say that Sparky needed to get the fuck over his hurt feelings and just accept that his brother was a lousy asshole.

He stood outside, had a good mind to slam the door behind him, knowing full well that it would likely break. Thor sighed, stared out across the city that, in three years' time, had been largely returned to its original state. There were still a few great construction projects going on, improvements and additions to the streets and sights of Manhattan, but that didn't change anything. Standing up here, on the top of Stark Tower, he could only ever remember his heart sinking as Loki dropped, barely managed to catch himself on one of the Chitauri flying machines.

What if he had fallen? It wouldn't have killed his brother, but the fall wouldn't have done the God of Mischief any favors. At the very least, he would have been dragged back to Asgard with a broken neck.

"Thor."

He turned, forced a smile as Jane came and held to his arm. And, though he wanted to say something, assure her that he was fine, Thor wasn't one for lies like his brother. In fact, Jane had told him often that he couldn't lie worth beans. Even when he tried his hardest. Thor wished immediately that that thought hadn't come into his mind, for Loki had told him often in their younger days that he was terrible with words.

"If you so touch them on my behalf," Thor had threatened him, following an argument with their friends, "We will have words!"

"And I will win, for you are lousy with words!"

"Tony's an ass," she said, and the god's eyes widened. Jane would swear when she was angry, but he didn't think that she'd dare say a word against their host, considering how generous he was being and how much she admired his work. "Just ignore him."

And Thor intended to. Right after he had a little talk with Pepper about her not-yet-husband's manners.

The god sat down on the concrete, leaned back so that Jane could sit and lean on his shoulder.

A sigh and a smile. "I remember the first time we went hunting, our sights set upon bilge snipe." Jane didn't look nearly so confused as she had the first time he'd mentioned the creatures. Though Thor had never been particularly artistic, he had managed to create for her a convincing image of the monsters with a computer program called Photoshop. He had also explained that, as his brother had used to say, they smelled like rotted milk. "We found one, Loki and I. It chased us," his eyes fell, "and my brother received the worst of the damage. And I didn't tell him, even after we had returned home, after he had taken the blame that should have been mine, that I was sorry."

If Jane made a face, he didn't see, having shut his eyes and leaned over. She touched his hand.

"We used to fight all the time," he said sadly, and turned to watch a small group of pigeons as they strutted about on the rooftop. "About everything."

Jane shrugged. "Brothers do that. It's only natural."

Perhaps, but Thor wondered if going to war with one's family was natural as well. If two brothers, who had been as close as he and Loki had once been, were meant to grow to hate each other. If that were the case, then Thor wouldn't call himself the trickster's brother anymore. He wouldn't be a prince or the Son of Odin, either. He'd just be Thor, and maybe everything could change for the better.

It brought him a strange sort of peace, knowing that the last time he had seen Loki, he'd seemed confused, unsure as to whether or not he really wanted to leave. But that had been three years ago, and neither Thor nor the Avengers had seen any sign of the God of Mischief since. They hadn't even heard a peep from him. And that had gotten Thor to thinking of all the things that could have happened to him, if he were even still alive. Each time he had returned to Asgard, Thor had hoped that, somehow, Loki and their father would have managed to reconcile, that he'd be waiting for the thunderer on the broken end of the Bifrost with that crooked smile on his face.

"That they do," Thor said.

But the God of Thunder could not help but wonder, as he cast his gaze to the sky, if Yggdrasil had written out a chapter of their lives where the damage would repair itself.