Thor
Thor was unusually quiet, but it was to be expected.
John had set out two cups of tea and a large box of poptarts. Not that Thor touched either of the items, but it gave the table a familiar look.
“So…” John started. “How is Jane?”
“She is well.” Thor said quietly.
“And Dr. Selvig?”
“Mentally stable. Or so I’m told.”
“Good. Very good.” John took another sip of tea. Grief and loss were things John was intimately familiar with, but it never gets any easier to cope with loss of such magnitude.
“And how are you faring?” John finally asked.
Thor was quiet for a moment. “I did not once think of her after the funeral. It was not until this morning when I realized that…I had hardly thought of mother, no I did not even spare a single thought to her, even after Malakai had been defeated. I went on as if everything was fine and I just…forgot about her.” He laughed harshly at this.
“Am I a terrible son?” he asked. “Am I so awful that I just forget about the woman who raised me, who gave me into this world?”
“No Thor.” John said sternly. “These things happen. You were so busy thinking of war and of protecting the people that grief just became…unimportant.”
Thor clenched his fists and his lips thinned. “My heart feels…raw, aching.”
John nodded sadly. “I know.”
“I miss her…so much.” Thor said as tears leaked out. “I just…I just want mother.”
Finally, he cried.
John embraced his nephew and patted his head soothingly.
Neither could do anything else but weather through the tempest of their grief