They passed me by, all of those great romances
It wasn’t fair.
He wanted to be the one to do it and no one would let him. It was his fault.
Thor sat outside the ICU, rubbing his left palm with his right thumb, then alternating after his palm became too sore, and repeat. Staring down the hallway of empty, sad doorways full of grieving families and regretful doctors and nurses wishing they could do more. Tony laid in one of those rooms fighting for his life. Hooked to machine after lifeless machine.
Sitting next to him in the lobby, Rhodey attempted to console a heartbroken young girl sitting on his lap. Her face nestled in his arm, leaving big wet spots on his shirt. The few others that came (Clint had decided to stay at home with his family, and Bruce himself was in another wing for his own wounds) were comforting Pepper or trying to make small talk and lighten the mood. Although he didn’t know why they tried. Anthony had been here for 3 days already. Asgardian healers would’ve had him ready to go home on bed rest yesterday. But thanks to him, they were dead too. Everything about the whole situation made him feel worse and worse. He’d tried to leave a few times, tried to tell everyone he couldn't visit because he wasn’t feeling well, but Val wouldn’t let him. So he was forced to sit there, absolutely useless while one of his friends died slowly in a hospital bed. He became more and more lost in his own thoughts, dissociating into a fog of guilt.
And then a sharp knock on the wall from a nurse.
Two dozen red, wet eyes stared up at the man, begging him to say that Tony was awake and could to go home. “One person can visit him at a time. Visiting hours end in about an hour.” And then he slinked away.
First Pepper and Morgan, then Rhodey, Happy, Peter, a young man Thor had never seen before, Steve, and finally Sam. Each one filed in, then out, asking Thor if he wanted to go next and the burly, blonde man quietly shaking his head. He’d never been that close to Tony, and now he was surrounded by his closest friends and family all but for Steve, and Sam who felt obligated because Steve came. Finally, it was only him. Nowhere to hide.
He slowly shuffled down the hall to Tony’s room, peeking in before he entered. Flowers and balloons brightly decorated the otherwise grim room. Tony was still asleep. They’d put him in a medically induced coma when he arrived. He almost didn’t look human anymore. The machines and wires around him, the tubes shoved every which way into his weak body, were the only things keeping him alive. He felt like he didn’t belong there. Like he didn’t deserve to visit him, because while they were friends, he and Thor weren’t exactly the closest companions. They hadn’t talked in half a decade before Tony and Thor others had reached out for another mission.
All he could do was walk a little closer to the bed and lightly touch Tony’s hand. He was so cold that if the machines around them weren’t beeping Thor would have thought he was dead. His chest ever so slightly lifting and then descending back; it was pitiful. He stood a few more minutes to show his respects, tucking Tony’s blankets (a mixture of thin cheap hospital blankets and small fluffy ones Morgan had brought him from home) in to make sure he was warm before he left.
The light drizzle of rain outside began to slowly become more and more full and intense as he followed back down the hallway to go visit Bruce. Bruce, while injured, was at least awake. Mainly there for the burns left by Tony’s iron gauntlet and smaller injuries left from the battle that followed after. His Hulk half took most of the blow, but after the hit his body went back to being plain old Bruce Banner. He’d been having his own form of mental torture over it. Years of achieving balance between the two only for this one event to set him back seemingly to square one.
He seemed to light up when Thor entered the room. No one really visited him as much as they had Tony, and he couldn't blame them. He was in much better shape and would go home within the next few days when his busted arm heals a little more. Due to the gamma radiation in his system, none of the doctors or nurses knew how to handle him very well, so they’d been keeping him in longer than he needed to be almost to study him. His expression dimmed when he recognized how upset Thor had appeared, noticing the rain outside and linking the two. “So.. how does he look?” He anxiously gripped part of his hospital blanket in his hands. Thor stretched out, his shoulders popping while he tried to fix his face. “Doesn't matter. I’m here for you, friend.” He quietly sat in the visitor chair in Bruce’s room, resting his head in his hand propped on the right arm of the chair. “How are you doing?” He asked, still sounding fairly upset but Bruce could tell he was attempting at hiding it. He really did appreciate it. “I’m fine. They said I’d be able to go home day after tomorrow.” He tried to sound happy.
“That’s great news!” Thor scooted the chair a little closer. “When you get out we could go get lunch.” He was starting to sound excited. He’d been trying to get out of the house more since the blip had been reversed. Trying to take back his life in a way. He wasn’t close to much anyone else. There was Valkyrie, but she was always so busy with New Asgardian politics and rule as King and he knew she didn’t want to hear him complain any more than she already did. Bruce slowly eased back into the bed. “I’d love that. All this hospital food is horrible- could you hand me that cup?” He pointed at the small paper cup of Italian ice sitting on the food table next to the bed. Thor handed it to him and he let a piece sit and melt in his mouth. “These things are the only thing I can eat. The grape ones are really good.” The rain outside began to let up.
It was easy to tell Bruce hadn’t been eating well. For having lived in a third world country, he sure was picky now. The byproduct of living as a lucid hulk for three years weren’t kind by any means. The emotional instability, muscle aches, and heightened appetite alone have left him the equivalent of a grouchy old man no one wanted to be around. Thor was the only one consistently visiting him other than his cousin. He didn’t blame anyone for not coming, but it still stung. He was still grieving Natasha, and the one time Steve had come they ended up squalling together over her loss like two children who witnessed the death of the family cat. “So how’s Val doing?” He asked in between bites of flavored ice. Thor perked up a little. “Tired of me, I suppose.” He let out a small laugh. “I feel guilty for letting it all fall on her. I know she doesnt enjoy it. It was my birthright, my responsibility and I just dumped it on her.” He looked down at the floor in shame, nervously rubbing his wrist with his hand. “At the moment she’s working on establishing a real government for us. That sounds a little pathetic doesn't it? The ancient kingdom of Asgard is having to assimilate to modern Midgardian governmental customs.” He could already feel his face getting hot.
“It isn’t your fault. I know it feels like it is, but it's not. But hey, now that you’re permanently on earth, we can spend more time together, right?” Thor lifted his head back to focusing on Bruce. “Right.” He smiled. “I’m sorry, I just.. need something to help me out of this.. whatever it is I’m in.” He sniffled and straightened his back. Bruce sat up again, stretching his arms out like a cat and smiling back at the sad blonde. “You know, I could always set you up with Jen. She’s had the hots for you since NYC.” It was so funny watching a man who had whored around nearly his entire life get wide eyed and red in the face over the idea of a friend setting him up on a date. “No- no thank you, that’s alright.”
“I should get home now. I’ve been cleaning up around the house and want to get a little more done before I go to bed.” Thor stood up, leaning over to hug Bruce good bye. “Same time tomorrow?” He asked. “Same bat-time, same bat-channel!” Thor looked at the small weak man, confused. “You’ve been living on earth for like 8 years, you play video games all day and you still don't understand the popular culture. Shame on me for thinking you’d learned something.” Bruce joked and squeezed the other man a little tighter before finally letting go. “Tomorrow I’ll bring you some food. Something with substance.” Thor joked back before leaving.
————
Entering his cabin, he let out a long breath of relief. He hated how easily his social battery drained now. He shuffled in, took his shoes off and plopped down on his couch. His day clothes were starting to feel suffocating. So many years, mainly wearing loose fitting comfortable clothing or pajamas every day, now blue jeans and leather make him feel like he’s drowning. Made him feel sorry. But, sitting still on his couch helped him relax. It was soft and familiar. He gently rubbed the fabric in between his fingers and palms, grounding himself. The past few years, Korg had been there for him to make him feel useful. He himself didn’t play the same games Korg enjoyed, but he did have a tendency to be bullied on servers and he would let Thor handle it. Korg wasn’t useless, himself. And Thor knew he wasn’t. He was a fighter on Sakaar for years and the fact that he was still alive was at least a small testament to the kind of will he had. He appreciated these small acts, helping him feel needed. But now it kind of helped that Korg wasn’t around as much. He hated saying it, even thinking it, but sometimes he needed to be alone.
He found himself needing that a lot more than he used to. He used to thrive around large groups of people. He supposed his isolation had given him some form of anxiety, but he didn’t like thinking of it. Oh, if Odin could see him now. The Prodigal Son of Asgard too pussy to be in a large gathering of people. He was a sad, fat, pathetic excuse for a prince. He could feel his chest shaking at this point, staring up at the ceiling trying to choke back the shame. He needed to stop. He doesn't know why he does this to himself, allowing his mind to spiral so often to the point of wanting to harm himself. Maybe if he damaged his body enough it would make up for the vast amount of loss and grief he’s caused.
Maybe one day he’ll be able to make up for it.