DISCLAIMER: I do not own the movie Captain America: The First Avenger or any of its characters, nor those of MARVEL'S The Avengers – I am just borrowing them for play.
Cementing Heritage
-~S~-
Chapter Ten: Snaps
The landing gear began to fold up into the Valkyrie's underbelly as she took to the air, Steve bracing a leg over the metal shaft of the wheels and wrapping an arm around the thick cables that hung alongside as the apparatus turned horizontal and was lifted into the hull. He lifted his head from the collection as the panelling shut him inside, gazing about the dark interior as the wheels slowed their turning before turning and lifting himself over the gear to then vault onto one of the long railed bridges running through the space. He took a couple of cautious steps, and then slowed, staring out at the immense missiles labeled neatly in white paint: 'Chicago,' 'Boston,' and 'New York'.
His wide eyes remained fixed on the payload as he dwelled on the effects, dragging up along it to the glass-covered pilot's seat just as the metallic echoes of a metal door and footsteps called his awareness. Four HYDRA agents filed out along the bridge just below him, and he immediately leapt to grab hold of one of the bars on the ceiling and swung a fierce kick to the last in line, the agent tumbling over the opposite rail. The others turned as he landed and steadied himself, the closest drawing a knife from his boot and charging.
"Yeah, like that's going to do a lot of good against a super soldier with one hell of a shield," Tony commented.
He turned the shield on his back toward the thrust and then knocked his elbow up into the arm wielding the weapon, grabbing the agent and slamming him onto the rail as another ran at him and Steve kicked him in the stomach. The third turned and darted to the missile he was to be heading, but Steve took the knife from the agent in his hold and stepped back to throw it to land solidly into the other's back.
Natasha raised an eyebrow as she met the surprised glance of Clint, their shock at the expert throw evident. This was paralleled by Loki, though he understood how it made sense, given the calculations needed to wield the shield in his possession. Perhaps some modifications should be made to the weaponry available to him while in uniform, to accommodate this skillset, he thought.
The agent freed stood and drove a punch forward, but Steve caught it between his raised forearms and then punched him back down. Suddenly the propellers at the tail of the Chicago missile began to spin as the agent kicked back stumbled towards it, having powered it up, Steve turning at the sudden sound of wind and seeing him grab hold of the ceiling to enter the cockpit. The blond darted to the control panel on the bridge as the other agent followed him, climbing down the ladder behind him. He flipped the switch and pressed the red button corresponding to the missile's compartment before, at the sight of the green light, he pulled the level along the side.
The panelling underneath the bomb opened to the missile dropping toward the ocean surface far below, the agent left hanging kicking his legs for purchase before his grip let go and he fell into the open air to follow it with a scream. The agent beside the Captain threw a punch that the blond caught before returning his own punch, and then spun to duck under the agent at his back's punch and jump up to elbow and then punch him in the face. Then he lifted him from where he had fallen with a groan over his head, and hurled him to fall out of the jet as well.
Another missile's propellers began to spin, and Steve dashed toward it as the glass over the cockpit slid closed over the agent piloting. He lifted his shield to secure it to his arm as he circled the bomb, then climbed onto the shell to kneel and bring the rim down onto the cover only for another agent to dive forward and crash into him. The vibranium disc flew off to the side, and the agent inside the missile turned to flip the red switch and press the button that dropped the payload for New York out of the plane.
Steve held onto the purchase he had found on the casing as the agent at his back held onto him, the Captain repeatedly elbowing backward in an attempt to dislodge his grip. Wings fanned out at the sides of the missile, the pilot, upon glimpsing the men above, steering erratically to displace them. He tilted to the side, then dove down, the two sliding to the nose, and then jerked up. Steve's legs scrambled for friction as he kicked out over the wing, sliding along the shell before catching hold of the rudder. The agent sliding along the other side skated headfirst into the spinning propeller with a choked scream, slashed into a spray of gore that trailed through the air behind.
Some of the occupants of the room winced at the blood, the others absentmindedly wishing that such was the worst bloodshed that they had seen.
Steve maintained his uncertain grip in the extreme wind as the pilot tried to assess the presence of the men, then the Captain shoved the cover forward with a grunt to reach into the cockpit and pull the red lever beside the seat to eject the agent. His chair was propelled out into the air, and then Steve moved into the vacated area to the cover sliding closed above him. He took control of the joystick and steered toward the Valkyrie, gritting his teeth in determination as he sped to overtake her and then circled around in front of Schmidt's view.
He sneered at the sight and activated the gun turrets on top of the Valkyrie, azure rays streaking out to Steve's alarm and furious dodging and weaving to evade the blasts. The top of his rudder was hit as he rounded the craft, and he corrected his course to fly straight at the larger plane. He aimed between her rear thrusters to one of the two small openings into her underbelly, wincing as the sides of the sensitive bomb scraped her interior beams of metals.
Its came to a stop as its nose hit a protrusion, Steve forcing himself out of the aircraft and to his shield, which he lifted and secured to his arm with a heavy exhale.
He cautiously swung open one of the doors exiting from the hanger, furtively glancing around as he entered onto the long bridge. The Tesseract shone out of the central mechanism from where she powered the plane, the back of the pilot's chair dark against the daylight streaming through the expanse of windows. He crept silently down the steps with his shield born in front of his body, breathing through his mouth as he edged down the left aisle.
He moved closer while suspiciously darting his gaze around the space, craning awkwardly to look across into the seat only to find it empty as Schmidt stepped out of the shadows behind him with a gun. Steve spun and raised his shield for the azure beam to ricochet and smash through the panes of glass behind him.
"You don't give up, do you?" Schmidt drawled with an incredulous shake of his head.
"Nope," he quipped, rushing forward as the Red Skull fired to hit the surface of the vibranium once more and then again, before Steve slammed the weapon out of his hands as he darted to hit him with it. The blond punched him, and then swiped his shield for the rim to slice by Schmidt's neck as he stepped back, lunging forward again to punch the Captain in the stomach and then across his face. He grabbed a hold of the material of the back of his uniform to toss him away from where he dropped his shield from the impact.
He landed on his hands and knees, and Schmidt kicked his midriff, aiming another kick to his head that Steve halted, grasping his foot and jerking him forward too unbalance him. The two clutched at each other as they grappled briefly, and then Steve managed to climb to his feet and propel them across the aisle to slam Schmidt's back against the wall, although his successful punch was with a force that threw both men to the ground.
Steve turned and grabbed a container with rounded rim, recovering first to knock Schmidt's head into the floor as he stood before tossing the aid away. He then heaved the man to his feet and gathered him in a chokehold from behind. Schmidt struggled before writhing to swing them over the device holding the Cube, Steve releasing his hold as they crashed to the ground again.
Steve scrambled away and lurched for his shield, raising her to bring her down upon Schmidt's form as he charged him, but he managed to tear her from the blond's arm as he punched him in the stomach and slammed her across his face. He then used her surface to press Steve back against the device with a snarl, but Steve surged forward with a head butt and took his shield back, shoving him with her to hit the back of the chair and tip it into the control console.
Schmidt winced at the impact as the steering lever was tilted down amidst sparks behind him, Steve thrown to topple to the floor as the airplane dove downward abruptly. The Valkyrie streaked through the clear sky at dawn toward sea level as Steve flew to a corner of the ceiling at the acceleration and Schmidt was pitched to him. They spun over each other with the force of their punches and kicks before Schmidt managed to knock Steve across the ceiling. As the blond flailed Schmidt climbed down one of the metal beams to leap to the series of panels, pressing a couple of buttons and flicking the switch to activate autopilot.
Steve landed harshly on the grating of the bridge as the plane leveled out, the Red Skull turning from his stand on higher ground as he drew his handgun from his hip. He turned toward him as he stepped down from the platform. "You could have the power of the gods!" he taunted, firing while Steve flinched and ducked down.
Thor glared as his hands fisted at his sides, aggrieved at the insanity prompted by the temptation of such artifacts.
"Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations!" He shot again, the ray hitting one of the many metal supports. "I have seen the future, Captain-" Another beam was fired, impacting the wall behind the blond. "-there are no flags!"
No symbols of identification, or differentiation? Despite Schmidt's irrationality and contempt of Hitler, he obviously shared his delusion of uniting a superior race.
"Not my future!" he shouted.
Clint shook his head in amusement at the comeback.
Another shot soared over him as he jumped to roll across the center aisle, raising his shield to deflect the next ray before he reeled back and threw his shield with grit teeth and a yell. She spun to hit him in the stomach, and he was hurled back forcefully to collide with the mechanism in the center of the bridge.
Azure sparks danced over the appliance at the damage, a whirl of blinding light exploding up from the Cube before it dispersed in scattered rays that patterned the ceiling and fell to wrap the girth of the machine.
Tony's eyebrows rose in surprise as Bruce's furrowed in deliberation, Loki leaning forward slightly in heightened attention.
Steve stared as Schmidt called, "What have you done?" stumbling to the device. He muttered, 'No,' at the Tesseract's displacement from the core, taking the precious Cube into his hand.
She sparked before shining brightly, energy shooting upward to glint and gather at the edges of the ceiling. Another vision was suddenly granted through the surface, a dark galaxy backlit by clusters of stars within an expanse of space speckled with light. Schmidt held his arms aloft while his eyes captured the visualisation, Steve immobilised off to the side. Then the Cube gleamed dangerously, her power concentrating on Schmidt's form and beginning to pull his flesh from his bones.
Steve stared as the hand holding the Tesseract was torn up by the radiation; Schmidt screamed while it climbed up his arm, across his collar, and scored the skin covering his skull. The Captain flinched sharply as the azure glare flared and raised his arms to cover his face as he turned away, the other's entire body encompassed in the energy, disintegrated, and drawn upward to the dim stars directly above.
'The radiation completely ripped him apart,' Bruce dully observed as Tony questioned immediately, "Everyone was working in close quarters with the thing, though – you'd think some of their tech would've picked up that degree of emission."
"The Cube's signature appears to have been consistently concentrated in these events," Loki contributed aloud, "even with Schmidt making use of her from the point she was recovered in Tønsberg. It's likely that sitting dormant caused her power to accumulate. This portal was the only expression of a real percentage of it, and lessened the energy she emit thereafter."
"But wasn't it lost for a bit before SHIELD recovered it?" Pepper asked.
"A mere number of decades doesn't resonate with her," Thor said.
"SHIELD had possession of the Tesseract for a long time, too," Natasha added. "I think there just wasn't a way to understand the technology until recently."
The sharp, jagged beam collapsed in on itself from its travel into the heavens, falling back to the interior as the aftershock soared out from the Valkyrie. Steve panted as the glow rescinded, once more confined to the Cube as she fell to the grating of the bridge. He picked up his shield as the Tesseract melted the material underneath to continue downward and through the bottom surface of the place, tumbling through the whistling wind below.
"Being submerged in the ocean would also affect her state," Loki interjected, "contrary to being immersed in a magically rich area."
He dashed to the control board as he placed her aside before unclipping and removing his cowl, taking a seat in the pilot's chair and turning to address the damage that had been taken. He adjusted his seat and grabbed the steering yoke, glancing across to one of the navigation screens that swung from the targeted New York City to the ocean currently being traversed over. He stared out into the middle distance as the wind breezed through the broken glass and fluttering flurries of snow brushed past his face.
Steve dropped Pepper's hand as he sat curled rigidly in the corner of the seating arrangement, forcing his eyes to remain fixed on the screen before him even as she darted a glance to him; Thor and Loki's eyes narrowed at the same display in suspicion to the progression of his past thoughts.
Peggy stood in front of Colonel Phillips in the HYDRA base's command center as Steve radioed, "Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?"
Jim answered, "Captain Rogers, what is your-" before Peggy strode over, leaned over his shoulder, and overrode,
"Steve, is that you? Are you all right?"
She pushed him out of the chair to replace his seat as Steve replied, "Peggy- Schmidt's dead."
"What about the plane?" her voice asked as Steve kept one hand on the steering controls as his left experimented with the switches whose connections were not damaged.
He aborted a shake of his head in helplessness, finally uttering, "That's a little bit tougher to explain."
"G-Give me your coordinates – I'll find you a safe landing site," she said, prepared over her own controls in the calm of the base, Jim and Phillips standing behind her.
Pepper clenched her jaw as her eyes began to water. She didn't dare reach over to Steve again.
He paused for a second before answering, "There's not gonna be a safe landing." He surveyed the six missiles that were still held in the cargo bay and the damage to the mechanics of the plane. "But I can try and force it down."
Thor appeared about to interject, but Natasha grabbed the wrist of the arm beside her that rose in gesticulation. She sharply shook her head.
Phillips tapped Jim on the shoulder and jerked a finger to motion their exit, Peggy responding quickly, "I-I'll get Howard on the line – he'll know what to do."
"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and its heading for New York."
The cold wind rushed in as he sat panting, gazing out into the sky. He said, "I gotta put her in the water."
"Please, don't do this. W-We have time- We can work it out." Her voice caught as she pleaded, eyes glistening.
"Right now I'm in the middle of nowhere," he explained, symbol displayed over the water moving toward shore. "If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die."
The Valkyrie glided through the sparse cloud cover, sky bereft of other craft.
"Peggy," he comforted earnestly, "this is my choice."
She closed her eyes in concession, moving to shake her head in an act of silent protest as she pressed her lips together.
It wasn't the scene from his perspective that caused Steve pain but being forced to relive Peggy's obvious distress. Her voice had been but a memory he had tried to hang onto, before; now, her anguish was manifest in front of him and he was intensely subjected to what they had had and all that they had experienced together.
Steve manoeuvered an object out of his pocket, revealing a compass as he opened it and propped it up against the face of one of the dials before him. Peggy's image stared at him from the cover, and he gazed at it mournfully before returning his attention to the task at hand.
He resolutely tilted the yoke down, and the aircraft dove sharply.
Tony crossed his arms, leaning away from the prospect as much as he was able. He could feel Bruce taking measured breaths at his back, but didn't turn to look at him. He couldn't look at Steve right then.
He stared at her for a moment as the altitude meter steadily decreased. He called, "Peggy?"
"I'm here."
The icy shoreline drew closer in the spread of windowpanes.
"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance."
She inhaled sharply as she gathered herself, a tear under an eye as she answered, "All right." She cast her eyes to the floor before declaring, "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."
He said, "You got it."
The Valkyrie sped onward.
"8 o' clock on the dot – don't you dare be late. Understood?"
His eyes never wavered from the encroaching land, and he remarked, "You know, I still don't know how to dance."
She lowered her gaze as she smiled softly.
The wind howled as the plane hurtled through the air.
"I'll show you how," she reassured with a choked laugh, beseeching, "Just be there."
His breathing quickened as he started, "We'll have the band play something slow," the details of the shoreline magnified.
"I'd hate to step on your-"
His voice abruptly cut off to give way to static over the radio, Peggy's eyes widening as she called, "Steve?" Her eyes closed as sniffed and pleaded again, "Steve?"
Phillips averted his gaze, lowering his head as she sobbed, continuing to call out, 'Steve,' as her tears fell. He turned and walked away, and she held her head in her hands.
"Pause it for a moment, Jarvis, if you please," Loki requested, pressing two fingers to his temple as he leaned back in absorption of the sequence of events.
Thor and Pepper both moved to the corner before comically realising abruptly that Steve was absent from the spot, Clint explaining with a thumb jerked over his shoulder in direction, "He just moved to his room."
'You'd think he'd make more noise, the huge lumbering-' Tony muttered before Pepper tearfully asserted, "He shouldn't be alone right now." 'Well he obviously wants to be.'
"We're finishing this," Natasha commanded, Bruce nodding with a careful exhale as he affixed,
"then we're going to bed to give him space. We can confront him in the morning."
The ice and snow was gouged with deep furrows along the coast, the metal debris and massive piece of a wing imbedded in the sea of white a trail to the crashed Valkyrie, nose deep in the land. Her weight crushed some of the formations beneath her, and she slowly sank down into the water below as her thrusters smoked.
Teeming crowds cheered in London as other planes returned, the Union Jack waved in a multitude of hands as the people celebrated. 'V-DAY! IT'S OVER IN EUROPE' was emblazoned on newsprint as uniformed soldiers threw up their hats and film reels recorded the men reunited with their women.
Five glasses clinked together as James toasted, "To the Captain," him, Dugan, Gabe, Jacques, and Jim drinking solemnly to the man. Around them, couples hugged, clapped hands, and drank in festivity.
In a dark expanse of water, a searching robot drifted with long arms and hands to the azure glow of the Cube resting on the ocean floor.
"Sir," one of the seamen on the bridge called, Howard turning from where he was gazing out the window at the sheets of ice in the Arctic Ocean being navigated through. He approached where the man stood in front of a screen relaying the camera feed of the robot, standing to watch as the machine grasped the powerful object.
"Take us to the next grid point," he ordered of the man that had come up beside him.
He stepped away to obey, the other pointing out, "But there's no trace of wreckage," looking to him, "and the energy signature stops here."
Howard moved his stare onto the stretch before them, insisting, "Just keep looking."
Tony glared at the image before averting his gaze with tense shoulders.
Phillips strode through SHIELD's underground headquarters with file in hand and hung at his side as soldiers and scientists organised and packed away all of their files. He came to stand alongside where Peggy stood at an assortment of boxes, handing another file off to the woman beside her before turning to him and looking down at the sheaf he held in his hands. He left it in front of her, and then cast his eyes to the ground and walked away, and she slowly lifted it with furrowed brow.
She read, 'Strategic Scientific Reserve: Case Study BC283-33; CLASSIFIED; Captain America,' and the red stamp declaring it 'INACTIVE,' before inhaling deeply and opening the cover. Surname, Christian name, address, military service no., date and place of birth, married, widower or single status, next-of-kin and relationship of were all information from Camp Lehigh glossed over, Peggy pausing at the sight of a portion of the photograph attached, the rest hidden by the flap of the folder. She breathed bracingly, glancing away as she pressed her lips together before gently sliding the picture out and lifting the image.
Steve stood at attention wincing in the harsh sunlight, hair hanging limply over his forehead while his thin shoulders pulled the material of the white tee that elsewhere hung loose. His dog tags fell from around his neck to his chest.
Thor nodded slightly in accord with her feelings of loss, and the adjustments she would have to make in moving on with her life.
A round trash can lid with interior painted in rings of red and white, star on blue in the center, was held in hand by a young boy, who beckoned to others. He led a group of five boys through the streets as they ran in play.
Tony pursed his lips.
Faint, indistinct chatter drifted through the space as Steve's fair eyes fluttered open, an announcer describing a baseball game as he blinked into consciousness. "…pitches, and it's a curve ball, high and outside for ball one. So, the Dodgers are tied: 4-4. And the crowd well knows that with one swing of his bat, this fellow's capable of making it a brand-new game again." His brows furrowed as he tilted his head slightly toward the source, the man remarking, "Just an absolutely gorgeous day here at Ebbets Field."
Bruce leaned forward as the Steve on-screen rose into consciousness.
He continued to appear confused as he turned away to survey the room, a fan slowly rotating above where he lay on top of a made bed. "The Phillies have managed to tie it up at 4-4, but the Dodgers have three men on." The small lamp was switched on, on the night table to his right, though sunshine streamed in the open window and the curtains waved in a light breeze.
He levered himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, gazing into the middle distance with his hands on the edge of the mattress as he listened. "Pearson beaned Reiser in Philadelphia last month – wouldn't the youngster like a hit here to return the favour? Pete leans in. Here's the pitch. Swung on." He abruptly turned to cast his eyes to stare at the window behind before switching it onto the little radio on the desk on the other side of the room he had glanced over. He gaped as it continued to dispatch, "A line to the right, and it gets past Rizzo! Three runs will score. Reiser heads to third, Durocher's going to wave him in! Here comes the relay but they won't get him."
The sound of the door at the end of the bed opening drew his eyes, and a woman with dark hair curling over her shoulders stepped in. She wore a white blouse with a sharp tie done up over it, a long fitted skirt rising to her waist and falling to just below her knees as she smiled and greeted, "Good morning."
Bruce raised an eyebrow and muttered, "Interesting way to try and integrate him…"
Clint huffed and Natasha defended indifferently, "It was a good idea."
'Pete Reiser with an inside the park Grand Slam…' the radio imparted as she turned slightly to softly shut the door behind her. She looked at her watch and added, "-or should I say afternoon?" coming to a halt before him.
"Where am I?" he questioned.
She opened her mouth before quickly beginning again and answering, "You're in a recovery room in New York City."
He turned to the radio again and concentrated on the account of the game.
Loki narrowed his eyes. "What's strange about the game?"
'What?' Thor uttered, confused, but Clint retorted with a gesture to the display, "You'll hear."
'The Dodgers take the lead 8-4. Oh, Dodgers! Everyone is on their feet. What a game we have here today, folks. What a game, indeed.' His eyes flashed back to her, and he forcefully asked again, "Where am I really?"
She huffed a laugh with a slight shrug, replying, "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"The game," he retorted, "it's from May, 1941 – I know 'cause I was there." Her smile fell and she pressed her lips together, impassive.
"Smooth, SHIELD…"
He stood warily and squared up to her, uttering, "Now I'm going to ask you again…" He stared down at her. "Where am I?"
She pressed a button on the slim device hidden in her hand and a red light flashed, attempting to placate him with a 'Captain Rogers,' before he interrupted brusquely, "Who are you?"
The door opened at her back and she moved away as two armed soldiers entered, Steve's eyes widening in surprise as he took a couple of steps back.
"He's being ambushed!" Thor proclaimed in defence as Bruce winced, perceptive in what reaction that would garner.
"That wasn't exactly the idea," Natasha said.
"This can't end well," Pepper commented in concern.
His eyes glanced between the two as he gathered himself, straightening his shoulders.
The men were hurled through the metal-reinforced drywall of the room to land flat on their backs, stunned, amidst the debris, and Steve leapt through the hole to look around at the concrete and metal expanse of the hall outside. He glanced to the side where a stretch of 'wall' depicted the familiar building shapes that had shown through the 'window' and quickly spun to run from the facsimile, despite the woman's insistent, 'Captain Rogers, wait!'
"Damn," Tony whistled. "That looks really bad."
"He has to be scared," Bruce murmured, and Loki cast his eyes onto him before nodding.
She awkwardly climbed through the hole as he crashed through the exit doors, drawing a radio to relay, "All agents, Code 13," as two other armed men appeared from behind her to pursue the Captain.
'I repeat, all agents, Code 13,' echoed over the P.A. system as Steve came to a stop panting in the middle of the adjacent hall. He threw his head from side to side before those in suits and body armour going about their business were alerted to his presence and began pointing and giving chase. He flailed as he turned and ducked his head, violently dashing to slam his way past the couple of agents in his path and continue on out of the building.
He sped out through the glass doors of one of the many polished buildings on the block, weaving through the mass of business people walking briskly to and from their places of work along the sidewalk and onto the street. He paused for only a second, standing between the incoming taxi and blue car as they honked jarringly, before sprinting with the traffic and only stopping again when stunned by Times Square.
He whirled around at the large advertisements and television screens broadcasting the food, entertainment, and hotels of downtown Manhattan, mouth hanging open at the colours and technology and movement of the time he was abruptly thrust into.
"That's one hell of a way to be introduced to the future," Tony snorted.
A series of black SUVs honked authoritatively as they drove through the crowds into the area to form a barricade, and he faced the bright headlights.
"At ease, soldier," a commanding voice called from behind him, and he turned away from the armed men to those in suits cordoning off the area. Director Fury stood in front of him, ensemble and eye patch black matt against the lustre of the city. He approached confidently as his men radioed orders to each other about reinforcements not being necessary and rerouting the traffic, and stated, "Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but we thought it best to break it to you slowly."
"Break what?" he breathed.
"You've been asleep, Cap," he answered straight-forwardly, "for almost seventy years."
He blinked and stared with brows furrowed in distress at his surroundings, shaking his head as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, turning away to continue gazing at the billboards of the city skyscrapers. Fury watched, and asked in veiled concern, "You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah," he responded, "yeah, I just-" He stopped and stared, voicing dully, "I had a date."
"Fuck," Tony sighed. He shook his head and stood, exiting as Pepper furrowed her eyebrows and cast her eyes to Steve's closed door before following him to the elevator.
Bruce leaned back and pressed a hand to his forehead, Natasha standing as the elevator doors closed. As she walked towards them, Thor, Clint, and Loki all got to their feet as well. Bruce allowed a lengthy exhale before standing and trailing Clint to wait with Natasha as Thor moved towards Steve's half and Loki lingered to grab him by the shoulder.
"Do not intrude if he's isolated himself," he cautioned, the other three noting their conversation.
"He needs us," Thor hissed in objection.
"Not this instant," he insisted. "If the door is left open or he moves into a common area, then speak with him. But before that he needs to gather himself – this experience left him raw."
Thor pursed his lips, but nodded sharply in acquiesce and sat down on the couch.
The elevator doors opened again and the four left the floor to rise to their own.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
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