#thundershield fanfic

  -x-

  When Thor hears about the humans’ plan to save themselves and their planet, he tries to warn them, tells them that they shouldn’t be doing this – things need to stay in balance.  No one listens.

“I don’t think it’ll even work,” Steve says, nudging Thor with his shoulder.  “I’ll see you in a few weeks?”

“Yes,” Thor says.  Even if SHIELD hadn’t been kicking him off the planet, he would have had to go anyway – Loki was stirring up trouble in another realm as per usual.

Thor leans down, presses a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips, and then, with a whirl of Mjolnir and a flash of lightning, the Bifrost comes down and takes him away.

  -x-

  The CW7 doesn’t work.

  -x-

  “You cannot go to him,” Odin says, “men have done this to themselves, they must learn their lesson.  You have to wait.”

  -x-

  “We cannot come for you,” Thor says.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just stares at Loki wearing Thor’s face and nods.  He understands, he does. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki-Thor says.

Steve turns away, forces himself to wake up.  When he does, he throws away the name Steve Rodgers and lets an old man pick out a new name for him.

“Curtis,” he says, “you look like a Curtis.”

“Fine,” Curtis says.

  -x-

  It’s three years before he breaks.

The serum that boosts his metabolism so that he doesn’t get drunk, also makes sure that he burns through whatever he eats five times faster than those around him.

Three years of starving before he cuts into his first human. 

  -x-

  “How is he?” Thor asks.

“You don’t want to know,” Heimdall answers.  “Please, my Prince, stop asking.”

  -x-

  Four years stuck on the train and the old man who gave him his new name is handing him his own arm.

He looks down at the baby, then down at the blood on his hands – he drops his knife, and for the first time in years, he feels his hunger beginning to curb itself. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into the dark, when everyone else is asleep, knows the old man can hear him.

“It’s okay,” the old man answers.

“I don’t know what’s happened to me.”

“It’s okay,” he says again.  Curtis looks up; for the briefest moment, he wants to spill everything – wants to scream about the nightmares of World War II, of his best friend dying, of his lover abandoning him.

“I’m going to be better,” Curtis says instead.  He shoves away his guilt, pretends that he doesn’t feel Heimdall’s eyes hot on the back of his neck. 

The old man doesn’t say anything, he just nods.

  -x-

  He tries – he does.  And when his hunger bites at him, gnaws at his bones so that he feels he’s being turned inside out, he climbs into his bunk and begs for help.

He prays to God and whispers to Heimdall – begs him to send Loki to magic him into sleep before he kills someone.

Sleep, says Loki-Thor.

  -x-

  In the second year, Loki had snuck away to come for Steve.

“I have to help them,” Steve says after he’s punched Thor’s face off of Loki.

“You will die of starvation before then,” Loki yells, desperate to get Steve to come with him, “or worse.  It’s only been a few months, tell me sincerely, Captain – how hungry are you?”

“I’m fine,” Steve snaps.

“Fine, you stubborn fool,” Loki snarls, “sit here and rot with the rest of your kind!  Just remember, when you’re cutting up your fellows that you had a chance to get out.”

“And why won’t Odin take them?  Why won’t he get all of us out of here?”

“Because,” Loki says, taking a step back and already beginning to fade away, “you did this to yourselves.  We tried to warn you – yet you did it anyway.”

“We learned our lesson!” Steve screams.  “Help us!”

“You haven’t learned a thing,” Odin says as he appears next to Loki.  He glares at Loki before making Loki disappear with a wave of his hand.  “You mean a lot to my sons.  I want to help you, but it’s not time yet.  It won’t be for a long time.”

“I’ll do it myself then!” Steve yells. And Odin just smirks, as if he knows something that Steve doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says, twitching an eyebrow and adjusting his eye patch, “you do that, Captain.”

And Steve wants to fight, wants to grab Odin by his armor and slam him into the ground – but then he’s shaken awake by a rough jolt of the train and he falls out of his bunk.

“Fuck,” he curses, bangs his head against the floor and pretends he isn’t starving.

  -x-

  Six years in and little Edgar is attached to Curtis’s hip as if he wasn’t the man with Edgar’s mama’s blood all over his hands, with the taste of her flesh still on his tongue.

When Edgar begs for bedtime stories, Curtis whispers tales of a lightning god and a man in an iron suit, of a woman who could kill with all the noise of a whisper and an archer who never missed.

  -x-

  Edgar’s eleven when he asks the old man about his momma and what happened to the old man’s arm and why no one’s allowed outside.

  -x-

  Edgar’s just turned seventeen when he learns the whole truth.  Curtis puts his head in his hands and turns into the wall of his bunk.

And when Edgar climbs up next to him – Curtis can’t bring himself to push him away, figures this is the least he can do for the kid.

  -x-

  “How is he?” Thor asks.

“You would not recognize him,” Heimdall answers. 

  -x-

  Eighteen years. 

It’s been eighteen years and Curtis is surrounded by his dead friends; he doesn’t remember much from before the CW7’s failure, just catches brief glances of a people he thinks he loved once.

Then the train around him is exploding as he grabs the girl and the boy and he hugs them close and for a split second, he goes to raise a shield he hasn’t seen in almost two decades.

  -x-

  “How is he?” Thor asks.

“It’s time,” Heimdall answers, lifting his sword and bringing the Bifrost to life.

  -x-

  Curtis wakes up with his jacket half-burnt away and covered in snow.

“Steve,” says a voice, distant like a rumbling thunderstorm on the horizon.

Curtis opens his eyes, wonders if he’s dreaming as he looks up – sees a large blond man with a smile on his face and fear and anticipation in his eyes.  His vision is fading out to black once more as lightning sparks around him, as the snow lifts up from around him and hovers – then he’s being jerked upwards and he’s surrounded by color and light.

  -z-