#frankenstudies

After asking Bruce to lay with him in bed the night before he’d woken up haunted by things of the past. Friends he had been unable to save, innocent lives lost because he wasn’t strong enough. Words and pictures of faces torn with grief, fingers pointing at him, blaming him for the deaths he could not prevent. A hard night, really. But nothing that is unusual to him when he does attempt sleep. When he dragged himself out of bed it was still dark out, and Bruce lie asleep beside him. During the night Hero had joined them, and she was nestled at his side, holding onto Bruce’s hand tightly. The other was gripping Odinson’s thumb, and he almost laid back down so he didn’t disturb her. Luckily for him she decided to turn over in her sleep, snuggling up into Bruce. With a sigh he lifted himself out of bed, navigating the dark room with ease.

 Thori wakes to look to Odinson when he steps out of the room, but he doesn’t move from the spot he’s taken by the door. His tail thumps the floor once and he lays his head back down, going right back to sleep. Odinson smiles fondly at the dog, kneeling to rub behind his ears for a few moments. After he’s done he steps out of the home, breathing in deeply. It’s been a long time since he’s felt comfortable enough to let his guard down, but here, with Bruce and the children he’s found that he is rarely on edge anymore. It’s a blessing, if he says so himself. Above him the sky begins to brighten, and he decides it’s time to get to work. He still has a painting to add the finishing touches on, and ingredients to gather for the dinner he plans to surprise Bruce with.

 He begins to walk, and his path takes him to a makeshift shop he had set up for himself. He pushes the door open, stepping into the dimness. The lights come on, and he takes a seat at a table that house a large canvas. It’s taken him some time to finish this, but he’s proud of what he’s done. On the canvas he’s painstakingly painted likenesses of Loki and all their children. The paint is dried, and all he has to do now is carefully encase it into the rosewood frame he’d managed to get his hands on. His hands shake when he picks the painting up, but he ignores it. A few minutes of careful adjustments and it’s done. He wraps it in plain brown paper, carefully carrying it with him back to Bruce’s home. As he’s stepping through the door his phone rings, and he sets the painting down to see what it is.

 Loki, wishing him a happy Father’s Day. He smiles, because as usual his sibling seems to have the best timing. “Thori,” Is what he says quietly after a moment. “Do you think you can drop this gift off to Loki for me? It means a lot, and I’m trusting you to deliver it in one piece.” The Hellhound lifts his head, mouth opening as if to give a rebuttal before he thinks better of it. He stands, shaking himself of sleep before padding over to sit beside Odinson and the portrait. Odinson rubs behind his ears again, to which Thori replies with playful bites, and then he and the painting are gone. He hopes Loki will like the gift, and not be angry at him for it.

 Now it’s time to begin preparing for Bruce’s dinner. But, breakfast first. As usual. The whole house is lit up with light when Bruce and the children finally wake and leave their rooms, and Odinson has laid the table out with food. Pancakes and waffles for those who want it. Sliced strawberries, blueberries and apples resting in bowls. Fresh cream, honey, maple syrup and powdered sugar resting in respective containers around the table. Sausages, thinly slice ham and bacon rest side by side with it all, and for those who prefer something easier to eat he’s made a vast pot of warm oatmeal, seasoned with cinnamon and sugar just as the children have told him they like. For them it’s just another morning, although a bit more extravagant than usual. They dig in with the usual vigor, thanking Odinson loudly and happily for the meal. Across the table he gives Bruce a smile, although he doesn’t wish him a happy Father’s Day yet. That will come later tonight, when dinner is served.

 Somehow, someway, he’s managed to keep Bruce so busy that he doesn’t notice what Odinson is up to. Honestly, that’s mostly due to the help of the children. They’ve seemed to have picked up on what Odinson had planned, and he is thankful for them. Come time that dinner is done, he finds Bruce sitting on the floor with Hero, watching her as she recounts tales she made up of adventures she wanted to go on in the future. When Odinson arrives, she jumps up and runs to him, hands up to be held. He obliges her, and then looks over to Bruce to speak. “Dinner is done, the rest of the kids are in the dining room already.”

 Bruce follows them, idly chattering with Hero on the way. He only stops once they enter the dining room and he notices the table laid out with all of his favorite foods. But what he stares at the longest after that are the children he’s adopted. They stand behind the table, each holding cards they had selected when Odinson had taken them to Earth a week ago. Behind them is a blown-up picture of Bruce with all of them, his smile brighter than it’s ever been. Odinson sets Hero down and she runs to join the others. All together they speak, a warm, rousing chorus of “Happy Father’s Day!”

 After that the rest of the night is a blur. Hero and Bee sit on Bruce’s lap and feed him, laughing loudly and asking him multiple times if he liked the surprise. Dolly and Aurina sit beside them, joining in on the raucous conversation going on. It isn’t until after the children are fed and dozing off in various spots of the house, after the table has been cleared and night time settles in that Odinson finally gets a chance to speak to Bruce. He steps up next to his friend, holding a brightly patterned box in his hands. “Happy Father’s Day, Bruce.” Is what he murmurs softly, holding out the box to him. Inside rests a scrapbook he’s made with the children, filled to the brim with pictures taken at the park they had gone to recently. Odinson knows Bruce must need time to himself after all of this, so he carefully ruffles his hair and then steps out once more.

 The cool night air feels good against his skin, and he turns his gaze up to the sky. He feels accomplished, he’s done everything he planned with little to no hitches. The day has gone by well, and satisfaction is something he dwells in. It doesn’t last long, but that’s alright for him. He’s been outside for half an hour or so when Toothgnasher suddenly appears, trotting up to him and pressing his huge head against Odinson’s side. He already knows what the goats wants and climbs up onto it’s back without a thought. Toothgnasher immediately rears up, jumping into the sky. They dive through the thunderclouds it summons, and once they clear away Odinson has to blink. Toothgnasher now stands in a brightly lit clearing, green grass rustling in a soft breeze. Odinson slides down off of the goats back, turning to ask a question…. When a voice rings out, loud and clear. “Father!”

 He recognized the voice, whirling around to look in the direction it had come from. “Trud?” He spoke softly, and in the distance, he saw them. His fiery haired children. Magni and Modi standing behind Trud, who waved happily to Odinson. Fair headed Ullr stands with the group, a smile as wide as the sky above on his face. Alfi and Roskva are also with the group, and Odinson feels his heart beat hard in his chest. He doesn’t move until Toothgnasher nudges his shoulder, and then he walks toward the group in a half stumble. Trud rushes up to throw her arms around him, exclaiming loudly “Age has really gotten to you, Father! It’s turned your hair pink!” Modi and Magni let loose loud laughs, remarking that Odinson’s new hair color is proof of his fathering them. Ullr chimes in next, “It’s been so long, Father. We all thought you’d perished recently. Well, until your steed came and gathered us all together.”

 Odinson’s heart hurts, but it is the good kind of hurt. Tears well up in his eyes, and the four of his children crowd in. Trud continues to hug him, while Magni and Modi rest their hands on his shoulders. Ullr reaches out, hand resting on Trud’s shoulder. Behind the group Alfi and Roskva stand, uncertain of how to join in. Odinson releases one arm from Trud, holding out his hand to the duo. And they gratefully join in the embrace.

 From there, they all sit beneath the tree where Magni begins to tell tales from childhood. “Father! Do you remember when I climbed that mountain and found myself trapped by trolls? I thought I would surely perish, since both you and Mother were gone away. I remember sitting there in the dark corner of the cave I had holed myself up in and wishing desperately that you would come to save me. And the next thing I know your warm hands were up my shoulders, and I was up in your arms. I have never felt so safe as I did in that moment. What a grand Father it is to hear the calls of his child from world’s away and rush over to save him.” Odinson laughs, but the story touches his heart. He remembered that as well. He had rushed away from a meeting when he’d heard Magni’s voice ringing in his ears, tearing apart trolls as if they were nothing to get to his son.

 Hours later, after they’ve all recounted their tales they stand before Odinson. Modi speaks now, looking Odinson in the eye. “You have always been a great Father to us all, and we have never resented you for being away from home so long. We know you were always out there fighting to keep us and the world we lived in safe. We love and respect you for that, and on top of it all you still managed to find time to teach us of the most important aspects of life. That we will always be worthy no matter what anyone says to us. That we will always be loved. We want to let you know that we will always love you, even through your mistakes. You are our Father.”

 He has wanted to cry since he’s laid his eyes on them all, but now the tears really do fall. None of them say anything, but they all come together to embrace him. Taking his hands, patting his back, giving him smiles and soft reassurances. He realizes now that this is what he’s always wanted. A chance to just sit still with all the children he had raised, to see that they had grown into fine adults.