Author's Notes:
First of all, thanks to everyone who took an interest in my writing! I was honestly not expecting anything so it made me feel happy knowing some of you enjoyed it (shoutout to the people in the comments and those who gave kudos! You guys are too generous). So, second chapter... hahah. What can I say? Hmm.. well uhh, the most commonly known are the five stages of grief, but I based mine on the extended version. I'm not sure how well it translates or if I've portrayed it right, so once again, this is just my interpretation.
Also trigger warning for possibly upsetting thoughts of death, and a part where there's a bit of blood and violence.
Denial
Thor left before anyone could come and convince him not to, and willed Stormbreaker to just take him away. That was two months ago, and he's found himself all across the nine realms and beyond in the short amount of time.
He doesn't really have a goal in his traveling, not at first, he just drifts and lets his weapon take him wherever it pleased. He frequents the wilds of the realms he lands in, mostly because he doesn't want to face the fact that the decimation didn't just happen on Midgard, but he could still feel it in the stillness that surrounded him there. It was everywhere.
Thor isolates himself and flees as soon as he starts to feel off about whatever planet he's in, and soon, it becomes a game of cat and mouse, where he runs from his past and has momentary peace before running again, never allowing it to catch up with him. If he doesn't see the effects of his failure, then maybe, just maybe, he can pretend it never happened.
(Now, not only a failure, but a coward too. The list of his flaws grew daily.)
In this regard, he's extremely grateful to have his weapon and its ability to harness the power of the Bifrost. Stormbreaker doesn't feel like Mjolnir did, though. Where his hammer would sing and thrum in his grasp, Stormbreaker was cold and silent - it was disconcerting sometimes, to feel so disconnected from the weapon, but Thor doesn't like to dwell on these things. When he does, his thoughts circle back to the things he can never get back.
He supposes that Stormbreaker is just cross with him because it hasn't tasted blood since he beheaded the mad titan.
It isn't because he's not worthy. Right?
(Fool. He knows the truth. He knows that he has failed even as a warrior. He is not worthy to possess such a fine weapon.)
He doesn't know when it happens or what sparks the change, but soon, instead of just drifting aimlessly across the realms, Thor starts searching instead.
He starts to look for his people who managed to flee with Valkyrie. (Useless king.)
He starts to look for Aesir who were perhaps not in Asgard when he brought Ragnarok right to its doorstep. (Destroyer.)
For anyone who has had knowledge of the stones, perhaps he could recreate them. (Failure.)
Anything. (Desperate.)
If he's being really honest with himself, he searches for Loki too. (Please, little brother. Let it be a trick.)
Thor knows it's probably madness and the desperate loneliness that drives him, he knows that he should just get himself back to Midgard where he could surround himself with his friends - let them judge him, then let them help him, but Thor just… can't.
Surely, he isn't the only one remaining, right? He can't be. And surely too, Loki should be out there somewhere. His brother was crafty and likely didn't want to be found.
The alternative was something he couldn't accept.
(The only remaining member of the royal family. The last Aesir. The lone survivor.)
So he starts to frequent villages and cities whenever he lands on more developed realms or planets, asking around whenever he comes into contact with the Vanir of Vanaheim or the light elves of Aflheim, and other intergalactic beings. He frequents brothels and innkeeps and partakes in carnal pleasures, indulges in their food and drink - and gods, their drinks do hit the spot - and flees when he notices that he's getting too comfortable. (He shouldn't stay in one place for too long, lest people find out about his failure.)
Thor goes to Muspelheim to see if the fire demons there have anything new for him under torture before he lays waste to their lives and small parts of their realm (and takes great pleasure in it, because this is the weregild he demands for Surtur reducing his own home to a fiery inferno - if he could erase this entire realm… but no, he would not be so brash as he once was in his youth. He will do it slowly, and savor each demise-)
He even goes so far as to venture to Jotunheim again - he hasn't set foot there after his banishment - but only the eternal winter greets him. The giants are no doubt wary and don't want to be found either. (If there were even any left. Loki's people were a proud kind, but had suffered tremendous blows. That is on his conscience too.)
Thor roams for eight more months, making trips to Nidavellir, Svaltarfheim, Niflheim, he goes to Xandar and even back to Sakaar, filling his days with pointless searching.
He denies whatever whisperings his mind conjures for him.
(Alone. Failure. Destroyer.)
(Run away. Run away from the truth, because he's nothing but a coward. He's no hero.)
Testing
Inevitably, he finds himself back in Midgard, right where he landed when his father had banished him all those years ago. A lifetime ago, where his only problems were wooing Jane Foster (dead too, no doubt) and proving himself worthy. Only thinking of himself, and not anyone else.
Likely, Thor was also responsible for Loki letting himself go that time, his little brother choosing to fall through space instead of dealing with him.
(And even now, he's left his little brother's body floating around in the cosmos.)
It takes another week, but naturally, SHIELD contacts him, and Thor goes when he is asked to return to the avengers headquarters. There, he learns that the group split apart again. Tony wanted nothing to do with the team anymore, Steve gave up as well to 'help people where he could', and Banner, as usual, was secluding himself. Thor didn't dare ask about Barton.
The only ones left who were still operating were Rocket and the blue girl Nebula (blue, like Loki if he revealed his Jotunn skin), Rhodes, and Danvers. There was also the representative from Wakanda, but Thor never learned her name.
Natasha is the only one there.
"You've been gone a while."
"I was looking for something."
She doesn't bother asking for what, and he's secretly glad. Still, Thor can't decipher the meaning behind the look she gives him, so he avoids her gaze, scratching at his beard and clearing his throat.
"Are you planning to stay?" Natasha asks,
"I can't. I haven't found it yet."
(What are you looking for?)
(Nothing.)
(Everything.)
(Don't know.)
(Run away, little coward.)
"Then let's help each other find it. We're still a team, big guy. We could use your help too."
(He wants to weep. She still believes he can help.)
(He doesn't deserve it, but lends her his assistance anyways.)
In the end, it isn't Thor who finds his people though, but Rocket. Scouring the galaxy with Nebula, they stumbled upon a dozen small vessels. Less than two hundred Aesir men and women survived, and a handful of Sakaarians.
His once proud people look haggard and lifeless when they are brought back, and Thor feels a wash of shame. Feels disgusted with himself.
"My king, it's good to see you again," Valkyrie says when they meet for the first time in months, and Thor tastes bile at the back of his throat, "Where's Bruce and lackey?"
(Banner, hiding.)
(Loki… Dead. Gone.)
(Why do you call me king when I've done nothing but bring shame?)
(Do you blame me too?)
His silence is enough for Val to draw her conclusions, but unlike the avengers, she isn't one to talk around him or walk on eggshells as though he's really /that/ delicately pathetic - she gets in his face and tells him they have a lot to do.
Tells him that his people need their king.
Thor can't run away anymore.
He doesn't know whether he appreciates being brought back and forced to face his reality, or resentful that he can no longer keep pretending.
It's then that they throw themselves into treaties with the government - or what remains of it, anyways - about setting up New Asgard. They are welcomed, however reluctantly, and Thor buries himself in work around their settlement. It takes a while to get everyone at ease, but once they do, Thor starts to believe that perhaps he can make this work.
Everything starts to get better.
Another half a year comes to pass and Thor thinks, this is it, he can find his purpose again- has found it again- in rebuilding his people. He can move forward.
He can still be a good king
He can still be worthy.
He can still make up for his failures.
He is moving forward.
He is moving on.
(Fool. You will never make things right.)
Anger
All it takes to break his streak is a song, and a flash of gold and green.
He'd been enjoying a moment of reprieve from his negotiations and his court, choosing to lay around in the shack he'd claimed as his home when it happened.
It wasn't Korg or Miek's fault, really. They were just looking for a bit of a distraction, and Thor supposes he's the one to blame since he was hogging the television and the house to himself, not to mention he'd never asked for the items in the first place.
He admits, he didn't even notice it at first, being as the Sakaarians were but a speck in the small dingy window in the living room. If it weren't for the damn song, he wouldn't have ever noticed anything at all, and Thor thinks that the Norns must like tormenting him.
It happens like this;
He stands just as the television screen starts to become a little fuzzy because of the damn reception - then Thor listens as an upbeat tune starts to play on the radio by the window.
He walks over to it, listening and nodding his head a little as it picks up, then the words come and it's like he's hit with a bludgeon,
'Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo-
Here comes the sun, and I say,
It's alright.'
In Thor's head, another voice comes back to haunt him, and he leans forward with his hands on the table, trying to keep his breathing under control. No.
No, no, no, no, no.
'Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter.'
(I promise you, brother-)
'Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here.'
(The sun-)
'Here comes the sun-'
(-will shine on us again.)
'Here comes the sun, and I say,
It's alright.
(Crack. Crunch.)
'It's alright.'
(Sightless eyes and blue-tinged lips.)
Thor looks up, sucking in a breath as his chest constricts, and his eyes zero in on Korg and Miek, the glint of metal catches his eye.
A flash of gold and green.
He knows immediately what it is, though he can't see from the house, and Thor feels the lightning in his veins jump, feels a rage so thick it puts his mind into a haze as he stalks out, brandishing Stormbreaker.
"Perishable rock! Perishable rock! I yield! Lightning beats rock!"
Thor barely hears Korg's incessant ridiculous yelps and Miek's odd noises, growling as he tries to swing his ax at them again.
A flash of gold and green.
Loki's helmet and cape.
Where they had found it and why they didn't give it to him, Thor didn't know, but his rage at seeing them being so flippantly careless with his little brother's apparel makes his blood boil, more so when he realizes that the items are more worn than he remembers them being.
A flash of gold and green.
Now, upon closer inspection, dented and scuffed, damaged, not so gleaming nor so vibrant as his memory remembers them to be. How dare they.
How /dare/ they.
"Well um, at least you can get this horny helmet thing back?"
(Rage.)
"Thor! Enough!"
Valkyrie's voice stops him in his tracks, and Thor looks back at her, at the boy standing behind her, probably the one who went and brought her here. The boy looks scared, eyes wide, face pale - innocent.
(Probably knows more suffering and loss in his young life than he deserves.)
(All your fault.)
'You should have gone for the head.'
(Rage.)
"Thor!"
He stalks off and calls the Bifrost.
Thor demands for a mission as soon as he steps into the headquarters, and Natasha takes one look at him before giving him coordinates. They'd just gotten a report of a gunfight and killing somewhere in one of the East Asian countries.
Thor can't be bothered with the name, and though the spy didn't give him details, Thor didn't need to ask.
They both know it's Barton.
He doesn't bother to hear anything else, just leaves and transports himself once more with the Bifrost.
When he arrives, Thor is surrounded by a dense forest, and dimly he wonders if he transported himself to a different location, but then something whizzes by his head, and then another, and then he realizes that there are bullets raining down on him.
The anger is still too thick and fresh. His most terrible wound is once again bleeding. Thor takes Stormbreaker and flies up, and his blood is still bubbling inside him that he doesn't really think.
He just calls for lightning and strikes true- hurling himself down as well to take his ax to battle.
Red clouds his vision and Stormbreaker's bloodlust flows through him (or perhaps that is his own?), and before long, Thor finds himself beheading people as they run screaming, abandoning their firearms in the face of his ruthlessness.
He cleaves the shoulder of one man, cuts off the arm of another.
He slices through a man's abdomen and kicks him back as the guts spew across the forest floor.
He takes his weapon and brings it down straight onto a terrified face, splitting the person in half all the way down to the midsection.
When there is nobody left, he stalks back to his last kill and starts to bring Stormbreaker down over and over and over- the squelch of blood and heavy thuds of his weapon the only sound in the otherwise still forest, until he hears rustling.
Thor is ready to raise his ax and fight again, but sees a familiar face, and there's shock written there before it's schooled back into a hard expression.
Barton. Clint. Hawkeye.
Thor slowly comes back to his senses, feels how slick with blood Stormbreaker's handle is, smells the overwhelming stench of copper in the air, tastes it when he inhales too deeply. Thor looks at his work.
Blood. So much blood.
He locks eyes with Barton,
"They deserved it." Thor hears him say, but the words are hollow to him.
"Tell Nat you found them like this." Is all the man says before heading off, and Thor stumbles towards the nearest tree and heaves.
(Monster.)
When he comes back from the mission, he finds that Val has taken Loki's helmet and evergreen cape. From the looks of it, she'd even had the horned monstrosity polished and the cape washed and mended - with seidr, most likely - the gold was gleaming and showing him his reflection, and the feel of the cloth was supple and weighty, the former showing none of the scratches and dents it had suffered, the latter showing no signs of wear and tear nor any smidgen of the stains it had.
Thor swallows down convulsively and tries his best to hold his composure when she hands both over to him.
Forward, then back. Forward, then back. This is his life now.
(Let it be over soon.)
He doesn't take them from Valkyrie though. He's still covered in blood that's starting to crust.
(You are a monster.)
Depression
He never goes back to the headquarters or sees any of his comrades again.
Thor falls back into his less (more?) destructive habits.
He goes on trips to Vanaheim for their ale and other blends, to Aflheim for their wine, and more often than not shares a bed with random women who have no inkling as to who he is. When the Aesir in New Asgard manage to recreate mead (though it isn't as fine or as potent or as good as the one back home, because home no longer exists - not ever), he celebrates by drinking himself into a stupor for an entire week.
Thor does the same thing when he realizes it's been two years since everything went to Hel, two years since his failure. He drinks before the voices can come back, but only manages to summon hallucinations instead. They blame him and rub his shortcomings and their vitriol in his face.
Thor tries to banish them by drinking some more.
"Your brother would want you to pick yourself up," Valkyrie tells him when she confronts him in his shack the next morning (was it the next morning? A week later? A month? He didn't know), "He wouldn't like what you're doing to yourself."
(No, he wouldn't. Loki would have wanted to live.)
"You don't know anything about him. He'd come and tell me if he isn't pleased with it."
"He's /dead/, Thor," Val says bluntly, and Thor growls, looking away. "Loki is dead, all but a few of the Aesir are dead, half the universe is dead. You have to stop doing… /this/, and start doing something for those of us who are still alive. We can't get them back, but we… we can't die with them."
(Why not?)
(There is no moving forward. Not for him.)
"Leave."
He wakes up to the sound of shuffling in the living area, Korg and Miek no doubt playing a game of rock, paper, scissors to determine who would come in and wake him this time. It's been another year and a half, and he'd grown accustomed to this familiarity now.
"Hey, you awake man?" Korg calls from the doorway a minute later, and Thor grunts in response. "Yeah well, we're having breakfast so you know, feel free to join us. We got pop tarts and coffee, and an open invitation to talk about feelings."
Thor grunts again, feeling annoyance bubble in his chest. Ever since Valkyrie had tried to get him to talk one night about his mental well-being, Korg had taken it upon himself to offer the same thing every morning.
He doesn't need to /talk/.
He is a god.
(Are you, though?)
Before the other can come back and pester him further, Thor gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. He can barely recognize himself these days. His hair gets matted whenever he forgets cut it, as does his beard. His eyes have the perpetual bags under them and the bloodshot color from entire days spent drinking, and the mismatched colors only serve to make it more pronounced. His lips are cracked and bleeding in patches, and the pallor of his skin is a far cry from the once sun-kissed tones, looking sallow instead. His impressive physique is diminished to the point where he wears oversized clothing just to hide how much muscle he'd lost. Overall, he looks scraggly and unkempt.
When he remembers to though, Thor cuts his hair short. He doesn't know why, but he does it anyways, even if it's only marginally better than if he leaves it tangled. It isn't the methodical way it was styled during his time in Sakaar, and he never lets anyone else do it, but some days, his long hair reminds him of a time when he was still a prince- and that had to go.
Because he was a prince once, but now what was he?
A false king.
(But even that isn't true, because he has always been wretched, never deserving of his titles.)
(Wretched and spoiled and brash and stupid.)
(Unfit to rule. Just like Loki had said.)
However, though he'd loath to admit it out loud, in the privacy of his own mind, he could at least face the truth. Thor cut his hair and his beard in the hopes that one day, he'll be brave (or stupid) enough to make the small nicks he inflicts and turn them into larger wounds, deeper wounds - that's why he doesn't so much as cut, but chop and carve with Stormbreaker.
He plays with the idea every time he brings he sharp edge near his head. He could slit his neck. But he's too much of a coward.
'You should have aimed for the head.'
(Snap.)
'I promise you, brother. The sun will shine on us again.'
(The crunch of bones and final escape of breath.)
'Here comes the sun, doo doo doo doo-'
(Snap.)
(Unworthy. Failure.)
'Here comes the sun, and I say,
It's alright.
It's alright.'
(No. It's not.)
Thor drinks himself into a stupor after his shearing session.
It's only eight in the morning.
Notes:
The Beatles song was a suggestion from one of my friends after I told her I was writing something and let her read the first chapter. It's also the inspiration behind the title, I was going to call this "and the sun did shine", but that sounded lame as soon as she suggested the song to me. Any and all grammatical errors and plot holes and everything wrong that you may find are all my fault though haha (I know... I just know... my tenses...) also, I'm posting this while using my tablet, so if there are any weird formats, I'll get to fixing those when I find the time to sit down with a lappy! Once again, thanks for your interest and taking the time to read!