Chapter 4
4:
Staring at those seemingly endless blue eyes seems to have addled Steve's brain, not to mention the fact about what he said. This big guy owned the hammer? The cursed hammer which brought Steve to the middle of nowhere to die? Now it just delivered Steve to its really angry owner. How could life be so unfortunate?
"What are you talking about?!" Steve tried his best to hide the stutter and face his captor indignantly. He stared back at the stormy blue eyes mirroring his own.
The response probably made the bigger man angrier than ever before, because in retaliation he threw Steve's frail body to the nearest wall. Its impact shook the smaller man's core. Pain erupted all over his freshly injured body but he stifled his shout. It would have been a failed attempt anyway because a rough hand immediately enclosed his throat. The man was fast for his stature, he gave him that.
Precious air was becoming a rare commodity for his constricted passageways. True fear was already running through his veins, and his face was burning. Now he was really going to die.
"Oh mortal," the man-Thor, as he should really address the man, at least before his timely end- whispered on his ears. It tickled and he might have laughed if the situation was not serious and his life was not on the line. " You should not have challenged my patience. Before you meet Hel in the darker realms however, answer my question first."
A weak "What?" was all Steve could manage. God, it was getting harder and harder to breathe!
"Who gave you my hammer?" Thor gritted through his teeth. "Answer me honestly mortal, and you shall not suffer a slow painful death."
Steve slightly shivered and it caused the man to smirk. Damn, now he's thinking I'm quaking in fear already, a total weakling. It hurt Steve's pride more than his injured body. So instead of giving the man that kind of satisfaction, he stared back in a move of defiance. "I won't," the man from Brooklyn answered simply.
Thor's glare intensified, if that was possible. Their faces were only a couple of inches apart, and Steve could feel the other man's warm breath against his face. "Then suffer, mortal. Feel the rage of the mighty Thor!"
Steve slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was ready to face anything this man might dish out. Maybe in Heaven he would find his parents waiting for him, his foster father and mother smiling at his arrival, the angels singing of his defeat, and St. Paul ready to write his judgment.
He felt the vibration in the air as the man poised to strike. Waiting for the death blow seemed to slow down the time. It was as if everything he had done for the past twenty-one years of his life were flashing right before his eyes. Receiving his first punch in the face when he was seven, meeting Bucky for the first time when he was nine and Buck was about to be ten, entering the local high school at twelve, the death of his biological parents, being adopted by the Barneses, the arts classes he enjoyed before he had to drop out because of the Great Depression, living in the fear of the war, dreaming of joining the ranks of glory, Bucky's parents dying, living in the shabby apartment, Bucky's worsening cooking skills, winter nights they had to sleep together in order to preserve the warmth, days so scorching Bucky was surprised Steve was still as pale as he was, bucky treating his wounds after a fight, Bucky coming hope late with scrapes and fight bites on his knuckles. Bucky, Bucky Bucky... Thinking of his older brother sometimes gave a warmth he could never understand.
All of these ran through his head, episodes of memories he will always appreciate, even the bad ones, because they made him who he was today.
I'm sorry, Buck. I wish I could see you again...
Just as when he ready to breath his last, a sudden thud disturbed his reverie. The hold on his neck loosened. Before he could open his eyes, he was already falling to the ground. With an unmanly oof, he landed on his ass. When he regained his vision, what he saw amazed and scared him all at the same time.
The big blond man was down on the ground unconscious, a puddle of red pooling behind his blond hair and staining the floor. Beside his body was the hammer, its metal head specked with blood.
Oh dear God.
*.*.*
Bad luck was again on Steve's side, for when he was about to run outside the snow started to fall down. With winds strong enough to carry away, Steve was even apprehensive to go out of the wood cabin. The fireplace on the corner was running out of warmth. Steve tried to fit his little frail body on the corner, wrapping himself up the piece of fur that served as the bed's comforter.
Thor on the other hand was still down on the floor. Steve counted the time by the seconds, and by estimation the crazy man was out for an hour. He was a little afraid that Thor might never wake up. Even if the stronger man tried to kill him, Steve did not want to hurt anyone. It was against everything he was taught baack when his real parents were alive. Love your enemies Jesus said, and that was the motto he lived by.
The little blond man was on the verge of tears. He knew he must survive this. He believes he isn't meant to die this way, not yet, not in the middle of a snowy nowhere. He just hoped the little resistance his body has will make it work. Breathing slowly, he tries to walk up again. After recovering from the terror of a near-death experience, Steve used his remaining adrenaline to run outside but of course the snow impeded his escape. He had to crawl to the fireplace on the other side of the room after losing his energy. He can't sleep, because anytime the crazy man would wake up and start rampaging again. At least if he ultimately dies he is fully aware of it.
Steve needed the hour to recover himself and wait for the storm to pass, and he used the hour to observe the cabin. The cabin was bare with a makeshift bed on the center, wooden walls with broken glass windows. The door was made of some hardwood, and fireplace looked like it belonged there long before the other panelling did. Probably abandoned, he surmised, and this man repaired everything else. Huh, a builder. It makes sense because he claims to own the flying hammer.
Speaking of that cursed tool, he also left it on beside the body of the unconscious blond man. He doesn't have the heart to pick it up. Bad things happen when he lifts it. Probably it is cursed, and only the rightful owner could lift it properly. But why didn't the man just use the hammer to pummel him to death instead of using his hands? And why did the hammer protect him?
During the hour of silence, Steve tried to think this was all just a dream. An elaborate illusion made by his mind. That he's going to wake up any time soon, smelling the coffee and burnt toast Bucky occasionally makes. Back to the streets of Brooklyn, trying to survive another day, hearing the horrors of the war and recovering from the fall of the economy. Steve could take the poverty, but this? A crazy man with an even crazier hammer in the middle of the endless snowy forest? He'd rather eat a ton of Bucky's black toast in the middle of a war-torn society.
He did not even notice the man was already up.
The man was growling even more fiercely than before, vibrating in rage. Like a bear ready to maul him. Like an angel ready to serve the judgment. "What have you done?!"
Steve as almost choked by his ever present fear, but he choked it down. "What?" Darn it, he must improve his vocabulary other than speaking "what?"
Thor-should he really call him by his name?-shook his head at himself. "Nay, it does not matter. I will just have to end your miserable existence." He bent down and reached for the hammer.
This is it, Steve's funeral. But this time, he will make sure that his eyes are open.
As the blond man circled his palms at the handle, Steve held his breath. And then stood up, still staring at the man's form, gulping what could be as his final final breath. HE saw the muscles of the man flex, and tried to pull the hammer from the ground.
It didn't budge. He pulled again, but the hammer did not even lift an inch. The man used his two hands instead, but still the hammer refused to move. The look of shock was evident on the man's face, then rage inhabited it once more. His steely blue glares were back on Steve.
Steve backed himself against the wall. Here we go again, another rampaging rage.
"YOU!"
Steve flinched, but refused to break the gaze. "Look, sir. Whoever you are, please be calm and reasonable-"
"Calm? Reasonable?" Thor snarled the words, like they were derogatory. "How could I be calm and reasonable when Mjolnir chose a boy over me?!"
M- what? "The hammer is called what?"
"MJOLNIR!" the blonde man screamed. "The great Uru hammer, one of the strongest weapons in this universe. And it is supposed to be mine! How can you wield it? HOW?!"
Steven did not understand half of what the raging man was saying. Myolnir? Uru? And what about the strongest weapon in the universe? What was this man talking about?
"Sir, mister, whoever you are I am sorry that I possessed you property-"
"SORRY?!"
"-but it is not my fault that it fell out of the sky and destroyed a bit of my city." It surprised Steve that he still sounded calm, even after all that happened. His heart might be hammering inside of him (hammering, yeah right) but he quelled the fear to show on the surface. He must be vigilant, for anything can happen from now on.
Steve's statement gave the man a pause, then howled, "I. DO NOT. CARE. ABOUT. YOUR USELESS. APOLOGY!" and charged to Steve.
It might have been funny if Steve was not about to die. Again.
Steve used his height and weight disadvantage to to dodge the bigger man's attack. He heard him collide against the wall and his animalistic growl. The smaller man jumped clumsily on the bed and scrambled up to get to the hammer. He was just about to be reached by Thor's hand when Steve's nimble fingers grabbed the hammer and lifted it like it was nothing. He pointed it at Thor, who was still surprised by Steve's feat, so surprised he could not even move. Does Steve really look that weak?
"Look, sir," Steve gasped. "I may look like an ordinary kid but I am already an adult. And I also have this-what did you say- one of the most powerful weapons in the universe. So please before we destroy each other..."
Thor's stance was wary, but at least he was listening. Or at least Steve hoped so.
"Explain."