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“You look…pensive.”
Steve Rogers looked up at the sound of Thor’s low, rumbling voice and put on his best “Everything’s A-OK” smile. “Just lost in thought for a moment. Nothing important.”
Thor considered him, then nodded and disappeared in the general direction of the kitchen for guest suite in Stark — no, Avengers — Tower. Hoping his fellow team-mate had gotten the hint he preferred to be left alone right now, Steve still slid the file he’d been reviewing under a magazine just in case.
The hope was short-lived when Thor returned, two glasses and a bottle of whiskey in one hand. “Midgardian spirits are not strong enough to provide intoxication for me,” he said, putting the glasses down on the coffee table before uncapping the bottle, “but Stark never stints on quality and I can still enjoy the taste.”
He poured two generous drinks, set the bottle down and offered one to Steve. “Since I have heard you are in the same situation, care to join me?”
It wasn’t that Steve necessarily felt like drinking, but what Thor said was true about Stark not stinting on quality. Accepting the glass, he took a sip, and leaned back as the smooth burn slid down his throat. “That is good stuff. Wonder how much Tony pays for it?”
Settling himself down at the other end of the couch, looking oddly at ease in the jeans and t-shirt he wore, Thor chuckled. “I would wager your frugal soul would say too much if you heard the cost.” He took a drink, then released a sigh of satisfaction. “My father, on the other hand, would easily order a case or two without hesitation. Expense is for stewards to worry over.”
“Advantages to being a king. Or a prince.”
Thor saluted him with his glass and took another sip. Steve did the same, though he couldn’t help remembering another time he’d sat down with whiskey — which meant his thoughts turned to the folder on the table.
“On Asgard, drink such as this is naturally for those full grown,” Thor said. “But it is not drunk broadly. At feasts, we drink ale or wine — even when we are young.”
“Seriously? I remembering hearing stories about the French letting their kids drink wine, but I never saw it myself. Mind you, I grew up during Prohibition, so I didn’t see much drinking in the open, though I knew where the local speakeasy was. Bucky and I sometimes ran errands for the bootleggers for extra cash." Steve took a drink. "Well, Bucky did. I mostly tagged along and he made sure I got a cut."
Thor frowned for a moment. “United States, 1920s, is it not? There is some documentary Darcy has queued up for me to watch that I’ve not had the time for. Yes, we were allowed to drink at banquets when we were young, sweet wines with a good deal of water, one cup each for Loki and I. As we grew, we were allowed more and then soft ales, then, at last, we could drink as the adults did.”
He chuckled. “Mother was very clever. The first time I was allowed such, she invited a group of old warriors as guests. I was allowed to sit and drink as much as I wished, while Loki was kept to the soft ales, allowed two cups, then sent off to bed at his usual time.”
Steve smiled, remembering all those things Bucky was allowed to do first because he was a year older. “Bet that made him mad.”
“He was furious and protested as much as his dignity would allow, but Mother would not hear his arguments. That made me feel even more special, being allowed to sit and drink and be counted as one with the warriors. They told some great tales that night, and made many toasts to my new status as a man, which I heartily returned.”
“Drank yourself sick?”
“You do not know the half of it. I made quite a mess for Agnarr to clean the next morning. And my head! Oh, how it ached. Then I was summoned to breakfast by my father, which meant I must attend.”
The rueful smile on Thor’s face told this was a memory he could laugh at now, years removed from the event. “I have never known my father to give such a boisterous greeting as he did that morning. The very sound of it made every bone in my body throb. I tried to sit in silence, but the family was very talkative. Finally, Mother took pity and gave me a draught to help with the worst of it and told me that while such an occurrence might be accepted once in a young man who was not used to such things, even looked upon as a rite of passage, it would not reflect well on me if I did so again. Of course, there was more than one morning following that where I woke with a ringing hangover.”
“Were you able to get your mother’s cure again?”
"Not from her. After the first time, such sins were mine to bear." Thor took a deep sip. "Loki learned how to make it. Would tease me a bit before he gave it to me, though."
Steve couldn't help chuckling. "So he was a little shit even then."
He stopped with his glass halfway to his lips as he realized what he'd said. "I meant — I'm sorry, Thor. I didn't mean to say that."
Thor gave a sad sigh, but shook his head. "Nay, the fault is not yours. I know Loki is counted as an enemy within these walls, but he is — was — my brother, and I love him. He did injury to many, but he died with honor, saving me and Jane."
He turned his head toward Steve, his gaze steady. "No matter what he did, if I had a chance to save him, to have him with me again, I would take it."
Steve considered Thor for a long moment, then deliberately put his glass back on the table. "You know, as much as it would annoy the hell out of Tony if we drank two or three bottles of this and were fresh as a daisy in the morning, if I'm just going to get to enjoy the taste, I'd rather have a beer. There's a great little brew pub close by. Care to join me?"
It being a weeknight, the place wasn't too busy and they were able to find a booth with relative ease. Once the waitress had taken their orders for two different taster sets and an appetizer tray of nachos, Steve said, "So, was it Nat who talked to you?"
"She thought I might understand what you were going though — and that you might need someone to speak with."
Steve shook his head. “Good ol’ Nat. Can’t leave well enough alone."
“She means well. She did not tell me everything, but enough that I find myself in sympathy.” Thor sighed. “To tell the truth, it feels good to know there is someone who might understand how I feel.”
“That no matter what he did, Loki’s still your brother.”
Thor nodded solemnly. “I remember my mother telling me the first time I was allowed to see him that I must take care of him for he was younger than I. I vowed to her that I would. I will always regret that I could not keep my vow.”
“‘Together ‘til the end of the line’,” Steve said. “That was me and Bucky. He was older by a year, bigger, stronger. I don’t look it now, but I was a little runt. After Bucky and I became friends, well, he felt he had to look after me. We were just kids then.”
“That is when the strongest bonds are formed, is it not? The ones you share your youth with.”
The waitress arrived with their beer tasters, promising the nachos were on their way. “So, you were the little brother,” Thor said, reaching for the first of the small glasses arrayed before him.
“I guess I was. I don’t think of it like that — Bucky was just always there when I needed him.” He paused. “Except then the world went to war and he enlisted.”
“And you were left behind.” Thor’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “You resented it.”
“I did. I was angry with him — especially because the Army wouldn’t take me because I was considered 4F. Unfit for service,” he explained at Thor’s puzzled look. “I’d been sick a lot as a kid.”
“And so they would not take you because it would almost certainly mean your death.” Thor shrugged. “There is some wisdom in that.”
“Bucky tried telling me that. Naturally, I didn’t listen.”
“Little brothers never do.”
The words were accompanied with a chuckle that spoke of long experience. “It wasn’t just that,” Steve said. “It — you had to have been here. There was a man, who did insane things, wanted to unite the world under his rule.“
“That I have heard about,” Thor said. “It was in the briefing pack Fury sent me after I let him know I planned to stay on Midg— Earth. It was part of explaining who you are. And Darcy found documentaries on Netflix. Some of those I have watched. You felt you had a duty to defend your realm.”
It was a simplistic explanation, but he sensed Thor was trying to see it in terms of common ground between them. “And to help others, not just the folks here at home, because if Hitler won, it wouldn’t stop at the ocean. If the Red Skull had succeeded…”
That hit closer to home and it took a moment before Steve felt he could continue. “He had to be stopped. Bucky knew that first hand. We were on a mission. He fell. I thought he was dead because there’s no way he should have survived that. But he did and HYDRA got ahold of him somehow. From what I can tell — and this is just stuff I’ve pieced together from some old files — they ‘experimented’ on him, which is really another word for torture, tried to replicate the formula Dr. Erskine used on me. Turned him into a killer and had him operate under their orders. He’s making decisions how he’s going to do a job, but he’s not the one deciding what jobs he does.”
Thor didn’t respond, and Steve didn’t feel like continuing at the moment. In his mind, he could see Bucky’s eyes wide with shock at being called by a name he clearly didn’t remember. The waitress arrived with their nachos and set it on the table, along with two plates. Steve smiled and assured her they were fine for the moment in response to her question, glad when she left them alone once more.
He expected Thor, who seemed to have never met an Earth food he didn’t like, to dive in. Thor didn’t, staring into his beer as the silence continued. “I’m going after him,” Steve said at last, figuring if there was anyone else on the team he could tell, it was this guy. “I know it sounds crazy since the last time we met, he put me in the hospital, but I know Bucky’s in there somewhere and I’ve got to try to save him if I can.”
“It doesn’t sound crazy at all,” Thor said quietly. “You have the chance. Take it.”
He sighed heavily, a sigh that told Steve if their positions were reversed, he’d be doing the same thing. “And I will not tell Stark, either. I guess by the fact you suggested we drink here that you don’t want him or his machines to know your intent.”
“Stark has a big mouth.”
“And an even bigger ego. No, you are right not to tell him. This is not Avengers business. This is personal and you honor me that you are willing share. I do not know if there is aught I can do to help, but if there is, you have but to ask.”
Steve knew Thor’s words were a promise, that here was someone else he could count on to have his back. Lifting one of the tasters he’d ordered, he said, “To brothers.”
“To brothers,” Thor replied, lifting his own glass, a faintly sad smile on his face. “May they find their way home, wherever they may be.”
There was no arguing with that and Steve took a drink, while Thor did the movie viking thing and drained his glass. Setting it down with a solid “click,” he shoveled a helping of nachos onto his plate. “Now, shall we order up some real tankards to go with these?” he asked.
Steve laughed, seeing the change of subject and gestured the waitress over. They were there for a while, and as the night wore on, they both told stories and remembered.