[A/N I'm behind on everything, and I'm blaming my school for making me work outrageously much.]

Part 24.

Bruce just couldn't believe it. Tony had been working on a portal not unlike Heimdall's without his science-buddy's approval. Frankly, I thought it was hilarious to see Bruce's jealous face for once, instead of the carefully placed mask he always seemed to be wearing.

"Bruce, chill out, pal. I'm sure he was under a lot of pressure, and you know Tony. He likes struggling on his own." He said, grabbing hold of Bruce's shoulder. "Snap out of it, we don't want a repetition of the events on flying ship, right?"

So after reassuring Bruce that Tony had just been as stressed and self-destructive as usual, and after finding a shitload of alcoholic drinks that I had apparently overlooked while ridding Tony's workshop of anything he might use to poison himself (And yes, it had to be poison, why else would the serum keep it from intoxicating my body, eh?), we were left with the huge question. What now.

In the end, after many, many protests from everyone, we decided Thor would have to go on his own. Natasha and Clint were out of the question. There was simply no way for them to travel all the way to Titan and then make deals with a very powerful guy that didn't even speak the same language as them. Thor was the only one with experience with outer space (unless you counted all the aliens we killed, or the few seconds Tony spent in space while saving the Earth).

It was really useless for me to go, because I would be no match against Thanos, especially, I thought bitterly, without my shield. Bruce would be quite useless unless he would be able to get very angry, very quickly. But we doubted we would leave a good impression if we sent a big green mutant of a guy, no offense to Bruce.

Thor, on the other hand, spoke all-speak, which meant he would be able to communicate with Thanos. He also had quite a lot of knowledge about the guy, and a lot of experience with people from other planets. He was our best guess, so when the portal was finally, finally done, we decided to let him have a go at it.

Thor stepped into the metal tube with a frown on his face.

"Is this supposed to make me travel around the galaxy?" He asked, punching the wall of metal, and I winced, hoping against all odds that he hadn't made a dent.

"Thor, Tony never leaves his work unfinished." Clint said, a sort of pride in his voice.

"Well, it's not like he left by choice." I mumbled. Everyone chose to ignore what I'd said because my permanently sullen mood was starting to piss them off.

"I will trust our loyal metal man." Thor nodded, bracing himself, armour in place and hammer firmly in his grasp. "I hope this is not farewell, my friends." He said dramatically, spreading his arms and clearly inviting us into a group hug which we had not anticipated. We looked at each other and in the end decided that yes, we needed a group hug, because we didn't know if we would be OK. If Tony and Thor would be OK. And this might be goodbye.

For all we knew it was goodbye, because the last thing we heard before we sent one of our best friends into space was the unmistakeable, loud and scream-like sound of the God of thunder in pain.

"What if he got hurt? What if he didn't survive?" I panicked, clutching my hair and pacing around the way-less-stylish-than-fashionable-and-gay-tony's living room.

"Steve,"

"What do we tell Jane? It was us who sent him into space without consideration!"

"Steve-"

"If he doesn't come back how do we save Tony?"

"Steve!" Natasha smacked me across my cheek, finally getting my attention and stopping my previously undisturbed pacing. I looked at her, eyes wide and mouth dry, "You are useless if you are a nervous, blabbering mess. Get yourself something to do at least. Train some fighting techniques with Clint, punch some punching bags into mush. I don't care, make yourself useful."

"It's Thor's life on the line here, Natasha, TONY'S LIFE!" I shouted, "Don't you care at all? Do you think punching a some bags will save them?"

"Steve," she sighed, probably already tired of having to say my name so many times, just like a kindergarten teacher with an annoying crying child, "stop saying things you don't mean. Knowing you, you are already regretting saying things like that."

"What if he doesn't come back." I said, feeling guilty that I wasn't exactly fearing Thor's life (he was a God, come on), but fearing that without his return, we would never be able to save Loki.

"He will." As if to emphasize what she was saying, there was a loud and thunderous sound coming from Tony's workshop. Natasha and I shared a quick glance, having a fierce battle of who-will-take-the-stairs-first, before deciding that I would just have to throw her over my shoulder and carry her downstairs. Clint and Bruce came running after us, Bruce almost falling over his own feet and Clint almost falling over Bruce.

"Did he come back?" Clint asked, leaning onto Bruce for support and massaging the sore knee he just got himself.

We looked at the mess before us. Scraps of what was left over of Tony's brilliant invention laying here-and-there, parts of software scattered around the room. A few desks had been knocked all the way into the walls of the spacious workshop, and shelves had been emptied onto the floor. Some things seemed to be electrocuted and little snaps of electricity could be heard now and then. It took some time for any of us to move, as we were all pretty flabbergasted, looking at what had become of the Genius his workplace, and I myself was wondering what Tony would do to us if he saw what we'd done to it.

In the middle of all the chaos was a figure suspiciously much like Thor's, and it was clear that something had gone terribly wrong somewhere. Not only was he back way too soon (no longer than 30 minutes had passed since his departure), but he was lying face-first on the ground and not moving, and the portal had been completely destroyed. His hammer was still clenched in his fist, lying by his side.

"Oh God." Natasha murmured, first to have some sense of thought back. She scurried over to Thor, and we silently followed, not knowing what to do. She bent her head, checking whether he was breathing. When the result disappointed her, she tried again. We held our breaths and groaned in unison when she looked up at us with big bambi eyes.

"Mouth-on-mouth?" Clint suggested lamely, and I didn't know if he was making a bad joke on the wrong moment, or whether he was being serious and shy about it. When Natasha kept looking at him, he held his hands up. "No- Natasha, this is your cue. Thor's a man. You are a woman."

"Steve is gay." She retorted, deadpan, as if Thor was not laying there motionless. I sighed and wondered whether any of our team-mates would ever grow up, and walked over to Thor.

"You do the CPR, I'll do the mouth-on-mouth. Because you are all such babies." I added quietly, bending my head to try and reanimate what was supposed to be an immortal creature, but right now looked like a poor excuse of a God.

"I can't do it!" Natasha panicked, trying to push down Thor's broad chest, but unable to due to her lack of strength and overflow of nerves.

"Natasha, look at me. Thor might die, or might survive, depending on the way you are able to control your nerves. Get your head back in there." She nodded, suddenly determined and back to the controlled Natasha we all knew, hands steady. She looked at me for a moment before pushing in the right rhythm together with my exhales into Thor's lungs.

"Come on, buddy.." Clint was chanting from the side. Minutes passed, and Natasha and I wouldn't give up. The disturbing sound of Thor's ribs cracking was echoing through the room, the rest of us so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. And then I was crying, while trying my best to keep him alive, to breathe life into him, and tears were rolling down Natasha's cheeks, mingling with the sweat the exercise was causing. And we knew it was too late, somewhere, that what we were doing was futile and that he had not breathed for too long.

We didn't want to believe it, we didn't want to let go of that one person who had a chance against Loki, that one person that kept the spirits high in the worst of times. That one person that presented 1/6 of humanity despite being from a different planet. The selfless God that was one of our best friends. And here he was laying, supposedly immortal but clearly lifeless in our grasp, and Bruce was putting a hand on my shoulder, and I tried to shrug him off but fatigue was rapidly taking over. The events of the last weeks getting too much to bear and I finally let go of Thor, my salty tears splashing on his face, and the ground, and then suddenly on Bruce's shoulder as the man tried to calm me despite his own obvious mourning.

And as if on cue, heavy rain started, thunder echoing around us with deafening purpose.

[A/N I'm so sorry for the slower update. School is almost finished, and finals are killing me and my free time. R.I.P. fun times and Sherlock marathons. Oh wells.]