Chapter 12: A Father's Sorrow

Though the other Avengers' children had been spared, for the most part, Astrid had taken the heavy blow. Christina, Katrina, and Serah all escaped with minor scratches, bruises, and some traces of smoke inhalation. Katrina admitted that Astrid had shoved her out of the way just as the building gave, knowing her half-Asgardian body had the highest chance of surviving an assault of twisted, burning metal from all over. Thor had been inseperable from his child, and still was as she slept peacefully, about half of the tape and a quarter of the stitches removed by now.

He was spending the time watching over her. He was always apologizing to her vehemently, blaming himself for her current state. He was constantly holding her hand, and refused to leave her side. Though Jane visited constantly, she knew that the essentials had to come from elsewhere, so she kept on working. Any number of her friends would visit from time to time. Today was no exception.

Jane was working in her lab, her heart heavy with concern for the still-sleeping Astrid. Thor was still at her side, holding her hand. His refusal to leave her side was attributed to the fact that Asgardians rarely bore children. Any parent would be concerned about their child in such a state, but for someone who was not only a member of a race who rarely had kids but was the crown prince of said race... well, his concern was understandable.

Anyone seeing their own child covered in medical tape and stitches would be upset. A number of IVs provided nutrition and medication. All sorts of little patches and things were attached to Astrid's body so her vitals could be monitored. Though she wasn't comatose, her body still needed help with breathing. So, a specially-designed system was in place, but all Thor could understand regarding that was that an unnatural tube was shoved down his sleeping daughter's throat. And he could do nothing about any of it.

"Why…" He muttered to himself, closing his eyes, forcing back tears, and clenching his fist.

"My king, the Princess's condition has not changed."

Odin sat on his throne, eyes focused.

"And what of my son, Gatekeeper? Does he still remain at her side?" He asked.

"Yes, my lord. He seems determined to stay with her."

Odin sighed.

"I now know what I must do. Heimdall, prepare the Bifrost."

"Milord, are you implying-"

"Yes. I believe that it is high time for me to visit my son and granddaughter. I cannot just stand idly by in this time of great despair."

With that, Heimdall left the Throne Room. Odin nodded at his beloved Frigga, and she took the cue. He sighed as she left the Throne Room. It didn't take long for the King and Queen of Asgard to get ready and arrive in Heimdall's observatory. He looked at the royal pair, and nodded.

"Whenever you both are ready, the Bifrost is prepared."

"Thank you, Heimdall." Frigga said gently. The centuries-old Gatekeeper opened the mystical rainbow portal, and, focusing on where they wanted to go, both of them stepped through.

"How could I have let this happen to you, my beloved daughter? Even with all my power, I can do nothing but watch as you sleep... I pray that you are at least seeing beautiful dreams in your sleep..." Thor said quietly, not exactly a whisper, but not his usual tone either. Astrid's still and calm body told the Thunder God nothing. His only company was the sleeping girl and the incessant beeping from the various monitors in the room. What each and every noise meant eluded him, providing no solace or consolation to the worried father.

The doctors had told him that Astrid was recovering well, but her body had taken quite a beating. Even considering that she was half-Asgardian, it wasn't exactly the best situation. He gently stroked her cheek, brushing his large fingers against skin and medical tape. He was focused on her, and and it seemed like nothing would change soon-

BOOM!

His head snapped towards the direction of the window. There was was a lot of dust, so he couldn't see what was going on. He tensed, and willed Mjolnir into his hand. He was going to protect Astrid with everything he had, against any threat, or else he would let the world know what it was like to face the wrath of the God of Thunder!

Katrina was walking towards the hospital to go visit Astrid. She was still armed, always carrying a well-concealed knife and pistol, along with a just-as-well-concealed pair of Widow's Bites. Her mother had drilled the philosophy of always being well-armed no matter where she went, and Katrina always trusted the Russian woman.

So, when she heard a resounding BOOM not too far from the hospital and promptly saw a massive dust cloud, she grabbed her pistol in one hand, knife in the other, activated the Widow's Bites, and prepared for the worst. Finger on the trigger, hold on knife tight as could be, the Bites sparking… she was ready to take down an army if need be. When the dust cloud cleared… she didn't know what to make of what she saw.

Two people were standing there, clearly very aged. One was a woman, clad in simple but elegant robes that looked very… well, medieval was the only word that Katrina could think of. Light armor protected her body, for what it was worth. The other, who was clearly a man, was well-armored, holding a lance of some kind, and was missing a freaking eye. It was covered by the strangest eyepatch she'd ever seen. She chuckled a bit as a small thought of Director Fury flashed through her mind, but she quickly shook it off as she tried to judge whether they were friend or foe, and if the latter was the case, how to take them down with the least risk possible.

They walked towards the hospital, and Katrina grew even more tense.