A/N: Will y'all look at that. I've gotten around to updating! Same ratings warning apply every chapter. -Taco
It had been a mere six days since Thor had arrived at Stark Tower. Six days of being near-idle. It had felt like longer, at times. But there were moments – often fleeting – which felt like he'd just arrived.
One such moment came over breakfast, where he caught himself laughing at Stark's antics of teaching Steve how to operate a cell phone. Another came while sparring with the super soldier, and all sense of the past and future had dissolved.
He cherished those moments, even if only in his own mind. He was coming to accept that, given the circumstances, they would be just that moments.
Finally, on the sixth day, the team was assembled in full. Director Fury and Thor were the only two standing up when the meeting begun. The rest looked at him with mixed emotions in their eyes, ranging from curiosity to contempt. Silently reminding himself that the contempt was not for him, he began.
"I am sure you all are wondering as to Loki's fate on Asgard," he began, his voice weaker than he had intended. He saw everyone's eyes steel to patient urgency, and continued, his voice stronger, "Loki has been found guilty of high treason, murder, and numerous other war crimes, as well as gross safety violations for both Asgard and Midgard. He has been sentenced to be bound, powerless, with venom dripping onto his forehead until the end of times."
There was a moment of silence in the room when Thor finished speaking. To process the information, he knew, not to mourn for Loki. None of them had loved Loki. This he also knew. As they digested the information, he braced himself for whatever they would say.
"Venom?" Director Fury was the first to speak.
"Yes," Thor nodded, "Corrosive and highly painful."
"Did you have any say in his punishment?" Clint asked.
"I was not permitted to partake in the trial due to my intimate involvement both with the accused and the war. The All-Father wanted as unbiased of a trial as possible," Thor explained, mindful to keep his voice flat.
"Bound how?" Bruce asked, "I mean, can he escape at all?"
Thor shook his head, "He has no chance of escape. Without his powers, he is no stronger than a mortal of his same body composition. He is bound at his abdomen, legs, and wrists."
Stark made little attempt to hide his feelings about how the restraints, letting out a low whistle before asking, "And what if the world doesn't end? How long is he there for?"
"Until time ends," Thor replied, the smallest note of frustration lacing his voice.
Steve stood up at that point, looking at Thor with what Thor thought was pity. "I think that's enough about this for one meeting," he offered, clapping Thor on the shoulder.
"Yeah," Stark chimed, "World's safe, guilty are punished, time to rebuild."
It didn't take long for the room to clear out. Thor was not the last to leave, as he had hoped to avoid further questioning. However, Clint stopped him at the elevator.
"What are you going to do now?" Clint asked.
Again, something so seeming simple. Thor might have resented simplicity had he not been taught to understand the dualistic nature of everything. With the simple, the complex.
"I will stay here, pose as a mortal as per Mister Stark's suggestion, and help rebuild the city," Thor said.
Simple.
The first day Thor helped with rebuilding the city, he had worn carpenter jeans and a red t-shirt, telling people his name was Thomas when he was asked. Stark had helped with the clothes, and Steve had helped with the name.
His strength made him the ideal help for clearing debris. He couldn't operate any of the heavy equipment, but he could haul loads of rubble into collection bins. The man in charge of the site he was working had been impressed, and told him to come back as often as he wanted. When Thor agreed to be back every day for as long as he was needed, the man have him a tool belt in appreciation. While Thor was uncertain why tools were needed for clearing, he showed great thanks to the man nonetheless.
If Thor was to be entirely truthful, he was thankful to no longer be idle. The reality of the loss of his brother and the relief it brought so many across the worlds pained him, and the more he could do the less such a reality could sink in to the marrow of his bones.
He worked until the night had started to fall, when most of the sites that were still being cleared shut down until the dawn of the next day.
He had chosen to walk back to the tower, both for some solitude and because he had a sneaking suspicion that Stark's offer to "give him a lift back" would ultimately accumulate in not helping him stay as unnoticed as possible.
It was on his walk back he first saw it.
A concrete-and-wood wall, plastered with photos and hand-written signs. There were candles, some burning, some burnt out, and some unlit. Curious, he stopped to look at it.
The hand-wirtten signs struck him first. All of the messages were in some sort of remembrance. And then he connected the messages to the pictures.
This is a wall full of their mourning sentiments, he thought, These people have lost more than I ever could have.
He was not sure how long he had been standing there, but he nearly startled when a voice beside him asked, "Do you have someone on the wall?"
Thor looked to his right, where the voice came from, and found himself looking down. There was a small girl, no older than eleven.
"I do not," Thor found himself saying.
"That's my brother," the girl said, pointing to a picture of a smiling teenager, "Mom says we were lucky they found his body so we could have a proper funeral for him."
Her voice struck Thor more than her words. He wondered how many times she had practiced such a statement to keep both the words and the tone so simple.
Before Thor could reply, a rumble of thunder in the distance caused them both to turn and jump.
"I hope the rain doesn't ruin his picture," the little girl said, her voice on the verge of quaking.
Pity. Thor had not had room for pity in as long as he cared to remember. But as times change, so do people. And if people can change, so can the gods themselves.
Thor scanned the wall, and found that a wooden beam about seven feet up spanned the entire length of the memorial. He then scanned the nearby debris piles – Seriously, is there anywhere in this city where they have moved out the debris? He thought – and saw enough materials to do something.
"Stay here a moment," he told her as he walked away. Her eyes wide with a mix of fear and wonder, she stayed put.
Thor returned with enough metal pleated sheets to span the length of the memorial and two support beams that rose about six and a half feet from the ground.
"What are you doing with those?" the girl asked, backing up a little as the beams were swung around.
Thor smiled, "If you have the time," he said, "Watch."
The girl had not had the time to stay for the entire process, but she did go home and get her parents so all three of them could watch the stranger work.
Thor had used the debris to construct a makeshift shelter. The pleated metal sheets connected tot he wall and the support beams. The metal slanted down a bit, just enough to keep any rain that would come off the pictures and messages.
The parents had cried. The mother had hugged Thor while the father just stood there and hugged his daughter.
"Thank you," the mother had said, "This means the world to us right now."
"You are welcome," was all Thor had managed.
The next morning, Thor mentioned the incident to Steve, Stark, Bruce, and Natasha over breakfast. He had brought it up causally, hoping it was not something that would bring attention to him and put his safety and the safety of his fellow Avengers at risk.
They all stared at for a moment, their expressions unreadable.
"Thor," Natasha started, "that is beautiful."
Stark made a small choking noise into his coffee, and the team glared at him. "What? I'm not allowed to choke on my coffee?"
"What, I'm not allowed to call things beautiful?" Natasha retorted, her voice somewhere between ice and amusement.
"Hey, knock it off," Steve told them, "You can banter later. Thor, that's brilliant."
"But it is not a security hazard?" Thor's statement came out as a question.
"Not at all," Stark said, "Although you've given me an idea."
"I hope it's a good idea," Banner muttered. Steve tried to shoot the scientist a warning look, but could barely keep himself from chuckling.
"A donation," Stark said, setting his coffee down, "from Stark Industries to the city of New York."
Clint came down the stairs just in time to hear that. He rolled his eyes, "Do you really think this city needs money? It needs manpower."
"Not money," Stark said, "Well, not just money. I have a building just outside of the war zone that is presently unused. Fix it up a bit, make sure everything's in working order, and turn it into an indoor memorial."
Bruce nodded, "And then what?"
"Put up blank walls throughout the building. Keep the doors open and let people post pictures, words. Maybe even have something where they can record their messages to the ones they lost."
"Tony," Steve said, "That's brilliant."
Bruce shook his head, smiling softly. The team knew in that moment Stark would never let Steve forget he said that.
"Of course it is, it's my idea," Tony pouted.
"It's Thor's inspiration," Natasha quiped.
Before they could get the banter rolling, Pepper stepped in the room. Everyone turned to face her.
"That's the perfect statement for your press conference at eleven thirty," Pepper said, locking eyes with Stark.
"Excuse me, my what now?" Stark asked, genuine confusion apparent.
"Your press conference," she repeated.
"What's it about?" Steve asked. Stark and Pepper looked at him.
"Yeah," said Stark, "What's it about?"
Pepper sighed, "I am not entirely sure, but it's not on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s request." Her tone bordered on dangerous. Something was wrong.
Stark rolled his eyes, standing up, "Fine, fine. I'll be ready for it. No notes, seriously?"
"Seriously," said Pepper, "Now get going."
Stark walked out of the room, everyone's gazes following him as he left. Pepper noticed his abandoned cup of coffee and went to pick it up.
"Stark, this isn't coffee! This is Kool-Aid!" Clint called after him, beating Pepper to the cup.
Clint's comment drew laughter from the team and Pepper.
"Grape Kool-Aid," Bruce shook his head, "Maybe he's one of those people sugar does more for than caffeine."
Pepper laughed again before adding, "It wouldn't surprise me. Now, if you all would excuse me, I have to make sure he's on time," before flashing one more smile at them and walking out of the room.
"Maybe," Natasha shrugged, turning back to Thor, "But regardless of Mister Stark's metabolism, you did good."
"You did better than good," Bruce corrected, "You helped. And you effected change."
Thor looked caught between distance and presence when he responded with a simple, "Thank you."
"Back in my day, people like you were called heroes," Steve added. Thor looked at him, eyes blank but the tilt of his head indicating confusion, so Steve added, "Heroes were the ones who fought and the ones who rebuilt alike."
"Ah," Thor nodded, "Back in Asgard, we have no need for heroes."
"Well, there is plenty of room for heroes here," Steve smiled, "If you want to stay for a bit, you can."
It was Thor's turn to clap Steve on the shoulder. "Thank you, my friend, I believe I shall."
Natasha glanced over at Clint, who glanced at the clock.
"I hate to run, but Natasha and I have meetings at S.H.I.E.L.D. Downtown most of the day," Clint explained.
Steve nodded at them, "Alright, you two. Take care of yourselves. And try to see if you can glance what's going on that had Pepper so tense."
The spies nodded before leaving. If it hadn't been for Clint's grip being just a little too tight on his bag, Steve would have thought the two weren't worried.
Bruce shook his head before saying, "I should get working. Enjoy your day, you two."
"I'm sure we'll see each other over dinner. Or breakfast tomorrow," Steve offered, nodding to Bruce.
"I don't doubt it," Bruce said, starting out of the room, "Oh, and Thor. Good job buddy," he added before disappearing from sight.
Thor shook his head solemnly. He picked up Stark's cup of Kool-Aid, examining it. He sniffed it, and made a face.
"This cannot possible be superior to coffee," Thor observed, setting the cup back down.
Steve laughed, "I don't think it is, but when has that ever stopped Tony from doing what he wants?"
"I suppose you have a point," Thor conceded, an ounce of mirth returning to his eyes.
Moments. Fleeting moments. There one was again. This one ended with Steve's next statement.
"You seem to be taking all of this rather well," Steve told Thor.
"I have no choice," Thor explained, as if those four words explained everything. He had hoped they did.
"No choice?" Steve asked. Thor sighed.
"In Asgard,we mourned Loki when he thought him dead. Now that he is alive and guilty, there is supposed to be no room for mourning. No one else lost a brother to that trial. But many people lost someone to my brother. And so where I cannot properly mourn my brother, I can help others mourn. And perhaps one day my need to mourn will not be as great," Thor went on, surprising himself a little with both how much he had said and how candid he had been able to be about his situation.
Steve nodded, figuring that asking for any more details would not help Thor. Instead, he offered, "You did a wonderful thing last night."
"Thank you, Steve," Thor replied, the mirth managing to remain in his eyes.
Perhaps not all has been lost, Thor thought, Or perhaps things have been lost so that new things may be gained.
The day passed relatively quickly for Thor. The man in charge of the site's debris clearing was thrilled Thor returned.
Several more collection containers of debris had been hauled away, no small part in thanks to Thor. The site closed down at sundown again, and Thor took a different way back to the tower.
He passed another wall that night, and instead of staring at the messages, he found the appropriate debris from surrounding piles to salvage in order to make a protective covering.
This time, it did not take him long. Within a half-hour, the wall was protected from the elements.
Thor came across two more walls on his route back that night, and covered them respectively. By the time he was making a shelter for the third wall, people had begun to take notice. Thor could hear them murmur as they passed, although he could not make out what they were saying to one another.
When Thor made it back to the tower, he entered the common room to see Steve, Clint, Natasha, Pepper, and Bruce gathered in front of the television. They had turned on the news, something Thor had not seen them do in over a week.
And then Thor saw what the segment was on.
People all over the city had caught wind of the shelters Thor had been building for the memorials, and had organized teams to work through the night to make coverings for all of the memorial walls.
The person being interviewed was talking about how meaningful protecting the walls were. Something about how it wasn't just protecting the walls, it was protecting the memories of the loved ones they had lost.
Everyone turned to Thor, but Natasha spoke first, "You did more than good."
At a loss for words, Thor nodded.
The news segment cut to a live broadcast of the press conference Stark was at.
"Has he really been there for over seven hours?" Steve asked.
No one answered. The woman on the screen explained it for them.
"Live from an undisclosed location, billionaire Anthony "Tony" Stark has been facing questions about last month's attacks on New York from news and media outlets all over the world. We just got permission to broadcast live."
The scene cut to Stark, cameras flashing almost constantly and more microphones than could be counted at a glance shoved in his face. Stark's face was gleaning with sweat.
"Hasn't there already been several conferences about this?" Clint asked.
"Yeah," Natasha said.
"I wonder what they could possibly have successfully called a press conference this big over," Bruce wondered aloud.
"Are you sure that's something we really want to find-" Steve started, but was cut off by one question on the television that resounded louder than the other questions.
"Mister Stark," the reported asked, "I have financial reports here that Stark Industries aided Loki in his research to bring the alien army here as a publicity stunt. What do you have to say about them?"
"Can I, uh, see those reports?" Stark asked, floored by the accusation.
As the reported handed over a copy of the reports, making sure the cameras caught the multiple copies she had, back at the tower all that could be heard was Pepper's, "Well, shit."
A/N: So I take forever to update and leave y'all with a cliff hanger. Don't hate me! Also, this would up being longer than I had thought it would be. I hope it wasn't too long or something strange like that.