Failure
Failure was something Thor was not used to. He was a god, heir to the Asgardian throne, wielder of the hammer that could level mountains; he did not fail.
Was this what failure felt like? Or was it despair and anguish?
He had failed to protect you, failed to keep you away from the war his step-brother Loki had declared on Earth. He had failed to keep you safe and by his side like he promised he would.
He felt nothing but anger and despair as he watched your unconscious body being thrown over one of Loki's puppet's shoulders, his step-brother grinning in victory as he watched his brother's face contort to anger. His fists and hammer pounded against the glass, unable to break through the barrier that kept him from you.
With a push of a red button he was flying through the air, hurtling towards the surface with speeds unfathomable to mankind; surely he would die in this rotating glass cage.
But he couldn't, he couldn't fail you once again, he had to save you.
Bursting through the glass and crashing into a field of wild flowers, he vowed revenge and justice upon his brother who dared to lay a finger on you.
He would not fail you again.
