the strike
One swing does the trick. His hands cling to the rough wooden handle, scathing his skin and grazing the ends of his fingers, but his grip loosens and he almost forces himself to drop the weapon as he staggers backwards and almost runs out of Thanos' home, readying Stormbreaker and get out of there as quickly as possible.
But he hears talking behind him. He wants so badly to ignore them, but in his momentary distraction he's caught off guard by a hand grabbing him suddenly by the arm and dragging him backwards, staring intensely into his eyes.
"Thor." Bruce murmurs. Thor nearly breaks down on the spot. The voice is so soft and so gentle, and he doesn't deserve it. Let go.
"Let go."
The opposite happens, as the hand grows tighter around his arm and squeezes, unrelenting.
"Please let go of me." He repeats blankly.
"Where are you going to go anyway?"
The question takes him off guard. His mind tells him to quickly reply with "Wherever the pods landed." But that doesn't feel right. Because he told Valkyrie before she left with the rest of the surviving Asgardians on the escape pod that she was to be their ruler. She defied him initially, but he almost dropped to his knees and begged her. Please. Please just lead these people, if I do not survive. Sure, he's alive, but when he looks at himself he's not sure if Thor really survived that day.
When Thor gathers himself and looks down at Bruce, the face staring back at him mirrors the same thoughts, and his throat runs empty. What is there to say to a question without an answer?
"I will drift along Fate's path like always."
Bruce sighs and shakes his head.
"Thor. Please listen to me this time, okay?"
The blonde gives a weak nod of his head. Suddenly everything is too much and even Fate seems like an unreliable rope bridge across a ravine, shifting and crumbling under his unsteady footing, and the handles are rotting.
"I don't... think that's safe." Bruce says slowly, trying his best to explain clearly that, "I'm really worried about you. I wanted to ask if you would just come and stay with me. I'd feel a lot better knowing you were safe and you had somebody to help you." Bruce skips the part about the fact that he's slowly fallen in love with Thor, because that's not what the god needs to hear.
Thor looks like a deer in headlights, biting his lip as a sob builds in the back of his throat. He can't give in, he can't do that now. One nod of his head later and he's enveloped in an embrace, and he's struggling not to shatter into thousands of small pieces in Bruce's arms, but he doesn't want to put Bruce on cleaning duty, having to repair all the lost shards of fragile, broken glass.
"Let's head out of here now-!"
Finally the thick, heavy air rips in half and is torn by a violent sob, and it's Bruce's turn to stand in stunned silence.
"Oh.."
But as quickly as he reacted in the first place, Bruce shakes his head and takes Thor's hand again, leading him silently back to the ship.
The Quinnjet feels empty now as they step onto it, there is no lingering fog or any trickle of hope running through their veins and pumping into their hearts. It's almost lifeless and abandoned, even when Bruce and Thor board, and it stirs quietly.
"Let's just sit down, okay?" The brunette soothes, and as they do so he recognises a moment of poorly masked discomfort flash across Thor's face and the blonde writhes slightly in pain. Bruce raises an eyebrow.
"What's still hurting?"
The god winced and shakes his head.
"I injured my hands yesterday." He mumbled, shifting anxiously as he awaited the response he knew he was going to get and-
"Show me."
Thor blinked, eyes snapping up to Bruce's face and locking on his brown eyes. That was...weird. He smiled weakly, for about the first time in a week, and offered out his hands.
Bruce carefully took the shaky hands in his own, noticing the busted knuckles and dried blood, and the small cuts on the palm of his hand.
"How'd this happen? You punch a tree or something?" He asked, trying to lift the mood as best as possible but-
Thor froze and looked away.
"Oh my god you punched a tree."
"Four times, actually." The blonde mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, causing Bruce to huff and grab his hand again.
"A tree? Seriously?"
Thor laughed quietly and shrugged.
" I needed something to hurt." It sounds fucked up saying it aloud but it's true; he'd rather damage his hands by taking his violence out on inanimate objects than allow himself to wreck somebody with a soul. Somebody real.
But Bruce doesn't look horrified, or disgusted; he looks kind like always and he gives an understanding nod, and gives Thor's hand a gentle squeeze and tugs on his sleeve.
"You just wait here. I'm going to go fetch you some bandages."
———
When they get back to the ship, there's no sign of Thor and Bruce, minus a faint reminder of the Bifrost etched into the ground.
"They've left already." Steve says simply, because it makes sense and there isn't anything more to say. God knows where they are, and if they'll come back sooner, later or never, but it's okay. It's okay because Steve knows they have eachother, and Nat knows that too and she doesn't worry for them.
"Together? They left together?"
Steve turns around and Rhodey has confusion written across all of his features, and despite the moment, Steve is almost inclined to laugh.
"Yes. Together."