Chapter 6
6:
"I do not understand still," Thor said after Steve explained the game multiple times. Steve wonders where did this man come from to not understand Twenty Questions. Then again, owning a flying hammer puts you in the category of "Out of this World". He knew he should ask that first. Later though when the other man already understands the whole "game". Somehow, the smaller man was a bit doubtful.
"It is simple," Steve reiterated. "You only have twenty questions to ask from me, and I also have twenty questions to ask of you and each person has his own turn." Ain't that hard to understand, he thought. He might have tweaked the rules from the original version of the game broadcasted on the radio but the concept was similar. Bucky used it first, Steve was trying to replicate it now. He's just hoping he won't fail.
"Nay, not the game. I understood most of it, a duel of words," Thor snapped a little. "What I do not understand is why do we have to play it."
"It's all about knowing each another, you know," Steve replied immediately. "A game for strangers."
Steve wrapped his arms around himself to feebly counter the cold while Thor adjusted his position, seemingly not disturbed by the dropping temperature. There was hunger gnawing in Steve's stomach, but it was already common experience for Steve. Even back in Brooklyn, he and Bucky had to survive with water only for a few days when their ends won't meet. Steve already survived four attempted murders (three by a deranged man and one by the cursed hammer the deranged man presumably owned) for a day. Hunger was the least of his concerns.
"It is a peculiar tradition, mortal. I can tell you it does not exist amongst us," Thor mused. "The people you encounter every day are the people you already know most of your life. A foreigner can easily be noticed, and dealt with immediately."
Steve did not want to elaborate the "dealt with immediately" part. "Where are you from anyway?"
Thor smirked. "Is this the start of the tournament?" The man loves a challenge, it seems.
He cringed at the word. Steve never really liked tournaments and you cannot consider Twenty Questions a tournament right? "Sure, ain't a problem to me."
The bigger man cleared his throat, as if to deliver a State of the Nation Address. "I come from the distant land of Asgard."
Steve furrowed his brows. "Asgard? Where on earth is that?" Steve has never heard any country called Asgard, even with his meagre geography classes. Wherever it was, it was most probably magical.
"My turn, little man," Thor interceded. He did understand the concept. "What realm is this?"
"Realm?" Steve was a little unsure. Such a fancy word was never used in his neighborhood. "If you mean this place we are now, I am not sure. We could be in Canada or Alaska or even Santa's backyard."
If Steve was confused, Thor's was more evident. His blond eyebrows were already on their meeting place between the eyes. He kinda looked adorable, a little puppy lost in the wild. With those eyes bluer than his own, Steve could see himself befriending this man even with his poor social skills. Of course after their intense meeting, Thor was more like a wild beast. Steve let those thoughts slide.
"Answer my question, mortal," Thor grunted. Steve winced a little.
The smaller man tried to clear his throat. He really did need water right now. "I am not sure what you mean."
"Realm, this planet we are now," Thor replied, irritation rising.
Steve answered simply, "Earth."Time for the second set of questions, Steve noted in his head. Before the other man could open his mouth, Steve threw another question, "Are you human?"
Thor looked a little taken aback by the question. "Human? Do you mean, you are human?"
Now Steve was the one who was taken by surprise as he exclaimed, "Why of course I'm human!"
Thor still looked incredulously at him. "If you speak the truth, the humans I remember back then called this place Midgard... and they are far from the puny little creature you are."
Now Steve glared. Does he really have to insult his stature? "Hey, I may not be as big as you are but at least I know I can handle myself!"
"Without my hammer, you are nothing little man!" Thor snarled.
"I was not the one who was out cold on the floor minutes ago!" Steve snarled back. The man was pushing his limits, angering him. He still trying to reign his anger however. He made a promise to himself and to Bucky a long time ago that he will never land the first strike in any kind of fight. For as long that there's a chance of a civil way to end a disagreement, Steve always makes sure that no bloodshed will ever happen. Maybe it was because of his ill-health that he relied on that principle but he will never ever deviate from it.
Until now.
Something inside Steve just wants to grab the hammer and smash it to Thor's face. His hands were itching to wrap around the hilt and his anger was clouding his judgment. He knew he should not, but why was it he wanted Thor to be destroyed? What on earth is happening to him? H/e was not this, a rampaging bull free from the confines of his cage. He was Steven Rogers, and Steven Rogers never never gives in to anger.
This all started when he picked up that hammer, whatever its name is. Anger was not always the answer to every scuffle, so Steve strengthened his resolve.
"What's the deal with your hammer anyway?" Steve asked instead, changing the subject. He does not really want to turn this shaky peace into a blood bath, specifically not with his blood.
Thor looked at him again with that look that says: I don't trust this man, but whatever I can kill him anytime I want anyway. Smug bastard. Steve then mentally chided himself. He does not have the right to call anyone a bastard right, even if it was just inside his mind? Yes, it was right. No matter what happens, Steve has to remain civil inside and outside of his mind, even if a wrong look and the man right in front of him would have a murdering spree. Yes, he must be calm and collected. If one must give in to anger it would not be him. Better be dead than face his creator shamefully. "Could you repeat your inquiry?"
The man always sounded like someone fresh from a Shakespearean play, Steve noticed. All those fancy words made him a bit uncomfortable and intimidated. "I mean, what is the problem with your hammer?"
"It does not have any sort of mishap, mortal," Thor answered, a rumble in the midst of the storm. "But if it has, t'is probably due to your meddling hands."
Steve flushed, which was easy since the cold was downright palpable. "As I've said before, it's not my fault that it fell from the sky and right in front of me. At least it didn't smother and turned me into a pancake."
"I dearly wish it could have," Thor mumbled.
"I can hear you, y'know," Steven said with just the right amount of hate.
Silence prevailed all over them again as the winds continued to distribute the snow outside. The decreasing temperature made Steve's shivers visible, and he just that the other man would not notice. He would probably point it out and poke on his weakness all over again. Thor reminded him of all the bullies he faced rolled into a giant lion of a man. Yes, that was who Thor was, a lion ready to pounce anytime on mousy Steve. They were just past the second question and they were already at each other's throats. What had he gotten into?
*.*.*
Logan was getting angsty and suspicious. The house was getting quiet and that did not bode well for the little blond man. His oversensitive hearing could pick up traces of both men's voice inside the cabin, but he was too far away to have a detailed information. IF he damn well went nearer, there was a big probability that the other blond man would sense Logan's presence. He could the feel the warrior inside of that man, and he was dangerous.
As he leaned against the tree, Logan though of the reason why he was following them. What was the reason, really? Was it because of his thirst for human interaction. or was he was just itching for some action? He always felt that, because sometimes he would just hunt for the sake of the pleasure of gutting someone or something. He is not even hungry most of the time, just looking for a bit of blood, of thrill, of a single evidence that he was still functioning, that he was still moving. Just seeing the blood redden the once white snow made him feel... alive yet repulsed. There was some part of him that says he is monster for thinking such. He was still human, was he not? But the kind of life he was living pushed him to become like this. Isolation made him who he is today, and he was not even sure why he isolated himself.
His memories dredged up to him, of white vinyl surfaces washed with blood, of blurred human figures wandering inside his mind, calling him, reaching out for him. Logan closed his eyes as he tried to make everything clearer. Probably would give him a hint of why he doing this right now. Why damn why? Why was he following these men? This could spell out his doom, yet he was here in the middle of the blizzard for hours now, waiting for any kind of reaction inside of the cabin. He heard some snarls and growls coming from the inside some time ago and he had to stop himself from launching inside. Some rational part of him wanted to go back to his cave and seclude himself all over again. This was a problem, but Logan never had a problem like this for far too long. His life in the snowy jungle revolved around waking up, surviving, sleeping and repeat. Maybe he was tired of that routine. Maybe he was just hungry, or going insane. What does insanity really mean anyway? Logan came this far already, and he will continue on.
Yes that was insanity.
As he inhaled the frosty air around him, he picked a scent, a dull dry putrid pungent smell. Something he had never smelled before. As far as he can clearly remember, he had been in this forest most of his life. Almost every kind of species in the forest was already encountered by him. It was not the smell of an elk, wolf, polar bear or any animal.
It was also very clear it was not human. Like the bigger man inside the cabin.
*.*.*
Bucky never had seen the dark for this long, even with his eyes not blindfolded. Hell, even the blackouts in LES Brooklyn could not compare to this. All he ever saw was pure pitch black.
After that unfortunate hit on his neck that made him lose consciousness, Bucky was not even sure how many hours had already past. Hell, it could have been New Year already, and Bucky would never had any idea about it. He tried voicing out his complaints but his mouth was filled with cloth that tasted like it was doused in sweat and gasoline. He could not feel anyone with him inside the room or wherever it was. It was so quiet he could hear his own thoughts. If there was dripping water somewhere Bucky would think he was in a mental facility. Plus his hands and feet were tightly tied to the chair, and even with the slightest budge the ropes starts digging into his flesh.
What the hell was happening? Why was he kidnapped? Where did all those men come from? Here now comes Bucky's Bucket List of Unanswered Questions. His younger brother was missing, now he himself is kidnapped. What's the worse that could happen right?
To occupy himself from thinking about those thoughts, Bucky started counting the time by his breathing. One. Two. Three...
When he got past a hundred, he heard muffled voices. They came from the front, like a wall was separating them from him. Bucky made a groan through his mouth, and all of a sudden light was flooding in right into his vision. After being in the dark for long, it was painful to the point of blinding. As it was, he evaded his eyes.
"Glad to see you awake, son."
The voice was male; deep, gruff and commanding. A voice expecting to obeyed, without delay, without hesitation, without fear. It was a voice that was forged under storm and fire and came out so successfully. Suddenly, Bucky felt intimidated. When he opened his eyes to look at the man, his feeling heightened. He was old, old enough to be his father if he lived, with a face that faced a thousand battles. Stern, cold, yet not reprimanding, this man was the leader of the one who kidnapped him, Bucky deduced. He was wearing the standard uniform for military-
Military? What the fuck have I done to piss off the military?
"You're James Buchanan Barnes, am I correct?" the man asked. Bucky could only nod.
The man nodded. "Good. We need ta talk."
We are talking now, Bucky wanted to scream. Instead he rolled his eyes.
"Pardon the rough treatment," the man said as he stepped nearer to Bucky and started to unravel the cloth stuffed in his mouth. "We had ta make sure..."
To make sure what? Bucky was itching to ask, as he intently glared at the man's face.
"...that you are not the alien."
Alien? What does I have to do with aliens? Do they even exist? Are even real? Have you gone mad?
Bucky's face seemed to be a bit readable because the older man immediately replied. "I cannot explain everything ta you, young man, because it is classified information. At least for now. All you have to know is...The United States of America, aside from the wars in Europe , is most possibly threatened by an alien invasion. I know this may sound ridiculous to you, but how can you explain your brother's disappearance?"
Oh shit. The flying hammer that took Steve! Of course, that was not man-made. And wait how the hell did they know about his brother? Oh right, military intelligence.
"You're here, James Buchanan Barnes," the older man said as the cloth wrapped around his mouth finally unraveled. "Because you have information about what happened 10 hours ago in downtown Brooklyn. Am I right?"
"It isn't much, sir," Bucky replied as the man started to unknot his arms and legs. "But you will help me find my brother, right?"
The man nodded. "Absolutely, because we always help our own." Before Bucky could even comment about the statement, the other man added. "Welcome to the military, cadet."
*.*.*
Steve was just about to ask another question when an extremely loud rumble echoed from the outside.
"Wait, what was that?" the smaller blond man asked instead. When he looked at Thor however, he looked frozen, mortified. His blue eyes were as wide as saucers and for the first time ever, Steve saw the other man stunned beyond words.
"Hey!" Steve tried to get his attention. It was effective, for after a second he was wrapped around the bigger man's arms.
"Grab the hammer," Thor ordered, and Steven hastily reached out to it. Gripping the hammer with all of his might, Steve was not even sure he could lift it again. Thank God it did, but the static energy was still there, running through his skin...
Steve was getting frustrated. "Can you please just tell me what's happening?!"
Before Thor could open his mouth, another earth-shattering howl pierced their ears from the outside. It sounded... mechanical. Angry mechanical. Steve's heart was ready to pump out of his chest. "Thor, please tell me that's one of your friends," he whimpered against Thor's chest. Darn it, he actually whimpered! And why the hell was he being carried like a baby? He can walk, darn it!
"Unfortunately, nay," Thor replied grimly, and proceeded to jump off the nearest window just as everything in sight exploded and engulfed in flames.