A/N: First, a big thank you to everyone who fav'ed, followed and left a comment. :D It made me very happy. To anyone still following, sorry this chapter took so long. I've spent the last few weeks in and out of Winter Camps and preparing for them, which doesn't leave much time for typing. On the plus side, it's coming up to the end of the school year here, which means far more free time for me.

On the second plus side, The Dark World has finally come out here! Went to see it on opening night, so, yes, this is most definitely an AU fic.

Chapter 2

Cold air brushed over his cheek, a slight dampness that was still in the air clung to his skin, making it clammy. Though he was protected in the sheltered passage way, he could still see the drizzle which seemed more like mist in the street outside. It was a grey and miserable town, lacking in the warmth of the morning sun which was held captive behind the clouds before it had time to fully rise. This was the sight that greeted the boy, now Sven, as he opened his eyes to the waking world.

His mind was pleasantly blank. Perhaps he should find this settlement miserable, or be confused by his situation and location, but he knew nothing. To him, the world shouldn't be anything else and yet something niggled in his mind, telling him it should be different. As if this horrid smell shouldn't flood his nose or the deep rumble fill his right ear.

A man walked past the end of the tunnel, scruffy clothing and a bright yellow jacket, sending him a strange look before disappearing from sight. From what Sven could see though, the street looked quiet, despite the number of shops that lined the road.

The rumbling stopped suddenly and the ground shifted underneath him. Alarmed, Sven looked round only to find the source of the smell, rumbling and his memories of last night. Once again, Old Sam shifted underneath Sven, reminding the boy of how the vagrant had dragged the child onto his lap to sleep last night. The child had simply let him, unsure what else to do and comforted by the knowledge that he was not alone. So, he had put up with the smell and petting until they both drifted off to sleep.

Abruptly, without warning, Sven found himself on the floor. Startled, the child looked up at Old Sam, who glared down at him. He opened his mouth to say something, to ask if the mendicant was alright, but the words never made it out. Wide eyes met narrowed ones and nothing happened for a minute, until Ol' Sam's face softened and a smile broke out across his face. He reached towards Sven and pulled him back towards him.

"Ma Sven. Ma Boi." The big metal screen behind them rattled, causing Sven to jump away from Sam in alarm. The old man didn't react though, merely standing up as if he'd heard nothing. Maybe he hadn't. "Com'. B'eakfas'. Nee' ta ge' 'eakfas' fa ma growin' boi." He swung his bag back onto his back. "Com' Sven. Papa gonna fin' ya 'eakfas'," and he trudged forward, once more leaving Sven to jog after him.

He followed the vagabond down the street, lined with shops with their doors closed and lights off in the early morning. Large glass windows and bright fronts caught the boy's eyes, while the letters merged together to make words that he could not read. The wares shifted between boring, confusing, hidden, and interesting. He longed to take a closer look at some of the windows, but Ol' Sam continued walking and so, so did he.

They stopped at the end of the road, where it was cut off by another, forcing them to turn left or right. The man turned right, crossing the road to a large red bin. Sighing, Sven followed, stopping as Sam lifted the lid and peeked inside. The man dropped it again, before shuffling further up the road, muttering under his breath about faceless men stealing all the food away. All Sven could understand was that the bin was empty and that maybe all the bins were the same. He didn't know how or why, he was just relieved he wouldn't have to eat whatever Sam fished out of the refuse. Maybe Ol' Sam could find some real food now.

The aged man suddenly stopped and Sven walked straight into his legs, nearly tumbling onto his backside.

"No 'reakfas," he said, turning round. "No foo', no 'eakfas'." The child's face fell a little while his stomach protested; the hollowness seemed to swell with the knowledge that food would not be forthcoming. How terribly unfair this was. His belly twisted at the thought of bin-food, but ached at the prospect of none. However, the mendicant was smiling down at him, crinkling his eyes and turning his face into something pleasant and Sven smiled back without truly knowing why, but it did seem like the proper thing to do. "No worri. Ol' Sam'll ge' foo' fa 'is boi. Pa'll 'ook afta 'is boi."

With that he completely changed his direction and hobbled back down the street, but instead of turning back down the way they'd came, he continued straight on, his new faithful little boy once again on his heels.

(&)

They stopped at a carfax, the sky brighter while still being just dull and grey as before, Sam settling down outside the large windows of one of the shops, right on the corner where the two main roads met. Sven looked round, trying to let the sights sink in, but there was just so much around him. The lights by the roads shifted colours, going from green to yellow to red while strange horseless carriages stopped and went in time with the changes. A beeping filled the air and he looked round for the source; unable to find it, he focused on the strange vehicle on the road. He should know its name, he was sure of it, but when he reached for it, it slipped through his fingers. He huffed, annoyed beyond reason that this little word that he was sure he knew did not leap-

Arms snaked round his waist and pulled him backwards. Sven let out a little yelp of surprise as he tumbled back into Ol' Sam's lap. One arm was briefly removed in order to tug the hat from the old man's head and drop it onto the ground before them. The man relaxed into place, his arms still locked around Sven, stopping him for doing anything more than wriggling in his place. It was… uncomfortable for him, though not physically, he wished he knew why though. It would be nice to know why his mind seemed to think that this could turn unpleasant. So, he tried to fight the nervous whisper that wound its way down his spine and trickled into his gut. He tried to relax, it didn't work very well. However, as the boy realised that the air was still cold and Sam was warm, he found it easier to ignore the smell and simmering nerves. As the street became busier, he was distracted by the new sights and sounds. His protector slid to the back of his mind, no longer important in the light of new wonders. They sat and Sven watched people passed, every now and then wondering how this was going to get them food.

The answer came when a woman stepped out of the shop and dropped a small gold circle into the hat.

Sam smiled up at her. "Ta, ma luv."

The woman simply walked on and Sven suddenly made the connections; they were begging. Of course they would have to beg for… For… Sven frowned down at the coin, but that wasn't the word he was looking for. Oh, what was it and why couldn't he remember it. Gold? No. Silver? No. Like the vehicle word, this one constantly danced outside of his reach. Another coin joined the first, this one larger but silver and shaped oh-so curiously. He reached out, picked it up and held it before his face. It wasn't round, not like the other one, but had seven slanted sides. On the side facing him was the profile of an old woman wearing a hat… a crown, and around the edge were numbers and symbols. There was a familiar sting of frustration when he realised that he couldn't read the symbols, the meanings escaping him, but it was joined by a hint of disappointment and alarm. It seemed very wrong that he couldn't read and was only damped slightly by the relief that he could understand the numbers. Was that strange? He wasn't sure. Still, it gave him some comfort that he could read the 'II' after the word and the '1997' on the other side. He flipped the coin over. On the back was a woman, maybe the same one, sitting, a shield by her side and a strange spear in her hand. An animal rested at her feet. Below her '50' was written.

He reached into the hat and pulled out the other coin, the gold one, and examined that one too and thus passed the rest of the morning. Sitting in Sam's lap, using the coins to distract himself from the increasingly uncomfortable hunger and thirst creeping through him. He examined each new coin that dropped into the hat, though it happened quite rarely. After the fourth coin landed, he realised that the each coin had the head on it and it was of the same woman in each, changing from young to old. After yet more time, he realised that the number over the head increased as the face aged. It intrigued him, so he started to arrange the coins in the number order, from a very small brown '1' coin (1971) to a very new '50' coin (2012), which he was thrilled to see had a completely different picture to the first one he'd picked up, though he had no idea what it was or what it meant. Maybe it meant that this '50' coin was more valuable, but then why not just give it a different number.

He gazed at his line of coins, marvelling at how it was like seeing the woman age before him. He wondered who she was. Perhaps the ruler, that would make sense as she did wear a crown, but then this made him wonder how he even knew what a crown was in the first place. He didn't remember learning what it was, but then, he didn't remember anything before yesterday evening. It did seem very important, though it left a bitter coat over his thoughts, creeping in from a deep dark place inside him. For what reason, he knew not, but it distracted from the ache in his belly and yearning in his throat.

As a fifth gold coin landed in the hat, Sam picked it up and the other four ones. He chuckled, ruffling Sven's hair with his free hand. "Sven ma luc'e charm. Brinin' Ol' Sam lotsa mone'. Know ya 'pose ta come back ta ma." Sam pressed the mone (…money! that was the word), into Sven's hand. "See. Ol' Sam said' 'e'll geh foo' fa yah an' 'e di'. Na, go geh foo' fa me 'n' ya."

The boy looked down at the five small coins in his hand, back up at Sam, down at the coins again and then at the crowd around him. The crossroad had grown busy with a constant stream of people walking by, drifting in and out of shops while vehicles rushed by, only stopping when the lights told them to.

"Where?"

"Sho'. Go, go, go!" The man waved an impatient hand to shoo him away.

Sven looked round him once more, completely at a loss as to what to do. Someone roughly bumped into him and he stumbled back away from Sam. He quickly ducked to the side to avoid another person and another and another, with each step he was eased away from the old vagrant. One more with a spin round and he caught sight of a large picture in a window across the road. It certainly looked like food. He glanced back at Old Sam who was still sitting and smiling, but his gaze was back on the hat. Sven supposed the shop was his best chance.

He followed the trail of people across the road and managed to squeeze through them to slip through the door which slide open of its own accord. He blinked, surprised, but supposed that this must be the norm as dashed in. Inside was warm and filled with the enticing smell of baked food. If he had any doubts, it was dispersed there and then as he looked at the rows of baking behind glass casing.

He looked at it, wide-eyed and his stomach rumbled, his feet pulling him forward. So many things and he had no idea what any of them were. Each tray had an orange and blue sign, but he simply couldn't understand the writing. He felt a new stab of annoyance, but at least he could understand numbers; they just confused him a little. Why was there a dot in the middle? How much did he have in his hands? Why did some signs have a symbol at the beginning and other signs a completely different symbol at the end? How did he get the food? There was no one here and no way to get the sustenance. How did he even pay?

"Alreet?" Sven jumped a little at the voice, his head snapping round in the direction of the voice. "Sorry, divvnae mean te startle yee, love."

A woman walked into his vision, a tray of cakes in one hand and they looked mouth-watering, distracting him from her confusing words that were hard to understand. She gave him a pleasant smile, causing her face to crinkle into warm creases, her hair pulled back into a cap. She bent down and removed an empty tray from one of the shelves and replaced it with the one in her hands.

"Get a bit wet did yee?"

Sven looked at her in utter confusion, watching as she turned to place the empty tray down on the surface behind her. Wet? Why would he be wet? It hadn't rained that much? Was he in the wrong place after all?

She turned back to him and seeing his expression said, "The shirt's a little git big fre yee . Did yee fall in a big puddle?"

He looked down at himself. At the sleeves that he had rolled up multiple times so that they no longer fell over his hands, the hem that brushed against his knees and collar that continuously slipped down his shoulder. He supposed it was rather big for him. He hadn't thought about it much until then.

"Are yer parents nearby?"

Parents? Mother? Father? The thought of these words caused something to claw at his heart, twisting it painfully until he had to look down and blink away tears. His gut sickeningly twisted in a whole new way that confused him, how could something unknown be so painful. He simply wouldn't think about it, he decided, and it would no longer bother him. Or he hoped so. He shook his head.

"Are yee lost? Yee poor thing?"

Lost? A deep dark crook of his mind chuckled at this. Yes, in a manner of speaking he was. He wasn't though. He knew where Old Sam was and that was where he had to go back to and where he was now. So, surely then, he couldn't be lost.

He shook his head. "Sam sent me to get some food."

"He yer youngen? Or yer uncle?" He had no idea what she meant by youngen, so he simply nodded, eager to be onto another topic. "Well, then, what waad yee leik?"

The child looked up, tears already forgotten. He looked at all the food, once again feeling at a loss. He had no idea what to choose. What was in all of them? He couldn't ask what every single one was, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Hoo much money dyer hev?" He held out his hands to her. "Five pounds, that'll get yee summat canny fre yee an Sam."

He wasn't sure that he really understood what the woman had said, but he was sure it was confirming he could get food for both of them.

"Can I have a drink as well?"

"Course yee can. Dyer leik fruits?" He paused, as he sorted through the question, and nodded. He was sure he liked fruits. "Waad Sam leik one as well?"

Sven chewed his lip. Maybe, he didn't say anything about drinks, but if Sven was thirsty, then so must the mendicant. He nodded, and she turned to cabinet with a transparent glass door and took out two bottles.

"Shall Ah gis yee a red an a orange one?" Looking at the strange liquids he simply nodded, his default action in this uncertain situation. "That's two pounds an forty pence. Yee hev two-sixty left"

Sven looked at the rows of food, once again lost at the range of items and the numbers. She said pounds and pence, was the first number pounds and the second pence?

"Dyer leik sandwiches?" Sven shrugged. "Yer a shy little thing ain't ye?" Was he really? He just didn't know the answer to any of her questions. Why did that make him shy? "Why divvent yee hev two bait deals; any sandwich an' a drink."

Sven looked down at the coins in his hands and then up at the woman, who quickly shifted her expression back to a smile, forcing his eyes back up to his face.

"Do I have enough?" It seemed a lot for five coins, but they were gold ones. She smiled down at him, and he wondered, was it a little sad?

"Yeah, yee hev enough the dayuh. Just choose any two sandwiches. Ower heor."

She walked down the counter and he followed them and pointed down at the selection. Some of them looked very big. "Any of them?"

"Any yee leik."

His belly grumbled loudly and his mouth watered as he looked at their wares. From the plain to the chucky ones filled with all kinds of ingredients. Playing it safe he pointed to a long thin one with what he assumed was ham and cheese inside, though he picked a far bigger one for Sam. He didn't think that the old man cared what was brought back, not if he dug through bins for food, but he was a lot bigger than Sven, so he must eat more.

"That's five pounds."

He stepped forward, going up onto tip-toes so that he could drop the money onto the counter and took the bag. He dashed to the door, but as it opened on its own, he suddenly stopped. He was forgetting something. He frowned. He was sure he had forgotten something. He turned back to the lady who watched him with a most curious expression.

"Are yee alreet, luve."

"I forgot something."

"Te syah , thank yee?"

He immediately brightened. Yes, that was it. "Thank you. Thank you for the food and drinks."

She smiled, his eyes drifting down to his bare feet. "Yee welcome."

He bobbed and was out and down the street to where he had left Old Sam. No sooner had he stopped by the man then the beggar looked up and grinned.

"Goo' boi. Go' Ol' Sam foo'."

Sven reached into the bag and pulled out Sam's sandwich, being very careful not to drop it and handed it over. The man chuckled as he unwrapped it.

"Sven bough' 'is Pa a big un. 'E's a good'un. Nos 'ow ta ge' foo'. Goo' boi."

The praise snaked into him, warming him from head to toe. He smiled, proud of his job well done, he must be doing this right, so with new confidence he pulled out the two bottles and presented them to the man.

"Wha's 'is?"

"A drink," he replied. Surely that much was obvious.

Sam's face twisted into an ugly scowl. "Wha'? Drin'? Drin'? Wha'd'ya was'e mone' on 'is piss wata. Stopi' boi." He suddenly clouted Sven round the ear. It didn't really hurt, not too much anyway, but it startled him into stumbling back. They received a few strange looks for the people walking by, one man stopping. He… He knew that Sam hadn't told him to get drinks, but he never thought that he would object so strongly. Maybe he chose the wrong drink, but then what was wrong with these ones? What was 'piss wata'?

"I'm sorry," he rushed out in a small voice. "I didn't mean it. I was just thirsty and thought you must be too."

There was silence and when Sven dared to look up, he saw that Sam's expression had softened. He allowed himself to relax a little; uncomfortably aware of the attention they were receiving from those passing him by.

"Silly boi, tha's a drin' fa Sam. Ol' Sam don' nee' no drin'. 'E'll ge' 'is own drin' ta nigh'. Proper drin' fa Sam. Sit."

The man patted the stone next to him, and at a loss of what else to do, Sven obliged him. The boy wondered if this meant that he could have both drinks. That would be nice. He could save the second one for a later time. Sam did say that it was Sven's drink, but he couldn't tell with Sam just how much he meant that. Well, he could drink one now and then save the other until he was sure that Sam didn't want it.

Content with his small plan, he reached for his own meal. It was big, but he was ever so hungry. He bet he could eat the whole thing then and there. He didn't in the end. By half way through he was full, but waste not, want not. He wrapped up the uneaten half again as Sam threw his rubbish across the pavement. He would save the rest, maybe he would finish it tonight or tomorrow and hopefully it would put off having to eat Sam's bin food for a little while longer.

So, there's chapter two. I apologise for if the woman's Gordie accent is dreadful. I'm terrible at writing accents, so I found a 'translator' online and used that. I also hope that it wasn't too confusing, but hopefully it'll help with 'Sven's' PoV.

Next chapter we should get to see a little of the Avengers and Thor.

Anyway, hate it? Love it? Found it dull? Interesting? Whatever you think, feel free to tell me in the little comment box below.