fossilised | It's AU time

It's AU time

Building 64 down in the East end of Brooklyn was not a fashionable place to live. The apartments were small, barely more than studio size, and the rent was pretty cheap. Not many people lived there permanently, most people only came and stayed a year or two to get enough money together to move onto somewhere better. But there were two residents who had been there a while.

Steven Grant Rogers, early twenties, who earned his rent doing tattoo designs part time to fund his college course, and occasionally dipped his toe into online art commissions. He'd moved in there when his mother had died four years previously, leaving him enough money to get by, but not enough that he could stop working. And right across the hall was Natalia Romanova, an aspiring ballerina from Russia. She was tough as hell, she had worked herself right through high school, paid her own way to America when she didn't even speak the language, and kept going through tenacity alone.

Somehow a friendship had struck up between them when Steve had been the first person not to look at her like she was an idiot or disgusting for not speaking the language. He'd helped her learn, and they'd been firm friends for the last three years. Everyone else was transient, coming and going, not really making an impact. Natalia had friends and a boyfriend outside of the apartment, but she sometimes worried that Steve never seemed to do anything but work and study.

Which was probably why he would be in his apartment when a loud crash sounded on the stairs outside. Said crash had come from a box of (now very broken) plates and bowls being dropped by the man just moving in to the apartment directly above Steve's, judging by the amount of cardboard boxes that were littering the hallway. He was tall, muscled, dressed in faded jeans and a hoodie with long slightly scruffy hair, leather gloves, and deep blue eyes.

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Relief. All of his problems were about to get out of his apartment. Thank God. "I'll go downstairs and wait for the pizza," he promised as he leaned over to kiss Loren on the forehead. His thumb lingered against his cheek before he followed Bruce out of the room and down the stairs.

Steve was already packing, the wolf pup trying to find a place to crawl under so that he could somehow stow away here but Steve Rogers had eyes like few others and every time he managed to get halfway beneath a piece of furniture, he would hear his name grumbled in warning.

Rogers was no fun. Uncle Anthony always let him get away with anything because he was about the same age as his Midgardian cousin and Ola could do nothing wrong in the eyes of her father. But she wasn't here. Not even another version of her.

Fenrir didn't like that one bit.

From the muzzle of a wolf pup, after Steve pulled him out from the closet by his tail, Fenrir lamented the lack of a playmate. "Why is it that my uncles do not have a daughter?! Why is there no Ola in this Realm, Captain Rogers?"

Steve didn't mind being the disciplinarian, he was the uncle that all the kids on all sides both wanted desperately to impress because he was a genuinely nice guy, and feared spending time with because he actually imposed rules. Fenrir was among the most difficult to control, he had too much of his mother in him, and Loki had never done well when going up against hard rules.

But that didn't mean that he didn't feel sorry for him. Fenrir was just a kid, at the end of the day, and didn't understand the implications of the decisions that he had made. He bent down to stroke a hand gently over soft fur.

"Because this isn't our world, Fenrir, things have played out differently here. Tony is going to marry your Mom here, and your Dad is with Auntie Nat. Ola is probably still living with her birth parents, that's all. But that's why you weren't supposed to come, everything is different here and we don't have a right to interfere, we're just trying to fix things."

Fenrir pricked his ears forward and then tumbled out into a kid shape again. "That is horribly gross," he lamented, that latter word picked up from his cousin. "If mum doesn't become the All-Father's consort, does that mean that there is no version of myself here?" Fenrir climbed on top of the bed as Steve packed but his brilliant green eyes were fixed solely on his current guardian. "This is a stupid Realm. Horrible. Uncle Bruce and Uncle Anfhony should be together. As they have always been together and were before even my older brother was born. This Realm will fair poorly. I foresee it."

Tony did not glance at Bruce as he cleared his throat and knocked on the open door. They had heard everything as they walked up the hall and that was bad enough. Acknowledging it in any way would be so much worse.

"Got your stuff?"

"I want to stay with you," Fenrir howled in response, head thrown back and everything. "I want to stay with you and my mum! I want my mum! Bring me to him now!"

"Oh my god," Tony groaned. Who did he piss off to deserve this?

Bruce blinked in shock, but he managed to keep that as his only outward reaction. Alright, apparently his alternate self was gay and had a child with Tony Stark, he could handle that knowledge. It was better than finding out that he was somehow incestuous as well, though that would be impossible as he had no siblings and his parents were both dead and gone.

Steve reached out and smacked Fenrir pretty sharply around the back of the head. He was still old fashioned in a lot of ways, and smacking a child had been perfectly common in his time. Besides, it was also common on Asgard and Jotunheim for children to be punished in physical manners.

"Fenrir," he said sternly after the smack. "Stop it. I've told you that your Mom isn't here, and we can't get him here. It's just me and you, and Dr. Banner is going to very kindly let us stay with him, so you need to be on your best behaviour. You're the only representative that Asgard and Jotunheim have ever had here, do you really want this to be the impression they're left with? You want me to tell your Dad and older brother that you behaved like this as an official delegate?"

Please let this work, dear God, please.

At least Banner was now, as always, his very professional self, calm and sure and not outwardly judging. Tony appreciated that considering how insufferable this little kid was being. And Fenrir, for his part, scowled and then shifted back to the little gray wolf puppy, putting his muzzle between his paws and looking up somewhat submissively to Steve. There was a little flick of his bushy tail and then nothing but stillness.

Evidently Steve had a way with kids. Or dogs. And that was funny. “Yanno, when I walked in on your smaller self’s therapy session with Bucky, they were both talking about getting a dog.” He needed to say something, didn’t he? Especially since he was pretending that Bruce Banner was just a cut out of himself and didn’t need to be looked at or spoken to in any way.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to back out of the room and around Banner without touching him.

“You guys have my number. But try to hesitate before you call me, all right? There’s a thing on Friday night-- Steve, you’ve got to come because you need to explain everything. Just uh… Muzzle. I’d suggest a muzzle.”

Fenrir growled when a muzzle was mentioned. He'd only worn one once, and that was because his stupid older brother had got hold of one and decided that it would be a funny joke to make him wear it. He had panicked for over an hour before his father had rescued him, and his brother had been punished by wearing the muzzle in return. Thor would not have his children fall into the same traps as he had. He would not have resentment grow between them.

Steve picked up his things and Fenrir under one arm, before he shot Tony an apologetic and abashed sort of smile, also not really wanting to look at poor Bruce even though he was about to follow him.

"Right-- yeah. I'll see you on Friday at-- well, at the street we discussed, okay?"

Bruce was quick to usher them out of the apartment after that, leaving Tony alone with his fiance upstairs and the unwelcome knowledge of just how different their lives could have been.

At least Loren had no idea about the boy. Tony aimed to keep it that way. He did his best to cover up his own doubts and thoughts that night but it was about as impossible as poor Bruce's ability to sleep that night considering how quick Fenrir was to escape Steve Rogers.

He jumped up on Bruce's bed and made himself comfortable, laying at the foot, staring st the original occupant of the bed.

"Uncle Bruce?" Yes. He was talking through a dog's mouth. No. He didn't find that weird at all. "Where is your consort if you have chosen not to make a home with Uncle Anthony?" Steve could very well find him missing at any time and so Fenrir had to made this quick so that all of his questions were answered. "You did save me from the alleyway. For that I am grateful and can reward you fittingly." Of course, he'd already self healed. He was Asgardian and Jotun. He had cells that could repair themselves without intervention.

Bruce took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, making sure to find his inner calm before he sat up and looked down at the wolf puppy. He would be adorable if he were an actual puppy, but knowing that he was much more than that kept Bruce from reaching out and fondling between his ears gently.

He was just thankful that he had gone to bed in pyjamas that night instead of naked.

"Uh..." Was he really going to have this conversation? "I don't have anyone right now, and that's okay. Not everyone needs a-- consort, and I don't think of Tony like that. He's a friend of mine, and a patient more often than not, but there's nothing between us. And I'm a doctor, it's my job to look after people who are hurt, animals too, so you don't need to thank me or reward me."

“How are your peers meant to know of your good deeds and achievements otherwise?”” Fenrir wouldn’t have minded the petting actually. He had become very fond of his ears being stroked and while his father oft said he should not spend so much time in this form, he had come to love it. His older brother had become adept at moving through the Void but he was the shapeshifter and he clung to that particular talent with both tiny hands until they were white knuckled. He never felt pitted against his siblings, but there was still competition. It was just natural in families. Shapeshifting was his connection to his mother just as Modi’s was teleportation.

Fenrir did not understand this society. Bruce was not his uncle. Anthony was not his father. And all smelled mortal without the fruit of Idun in their veins or… well, Uncle Bruce always smelled eternal to him. Until now.

Where was the Hulk? He had come to enjoy his time with the alter ego of his uncle when he allowed the beast out in controlled situations. He was amazing to watch in battle. Truly amazing.

“I do not like it here. This Midgard is no fun. I do not even have Ola as companion. My parents know me not. Captain Rogers is the worst uncle to have fun with too.” Down went his little ears. So sad.

"Then maybe you should have listened when you were told not to come along here, hm?"

Bruce didn't say it in a nasty way, just as if that were the reasonable suggestion. He felt for the little kid, he liked children and he could tell that this was a young child even if he had some bizarre powers. It didn't mean that he got to absolve himself of responsibility for coming along.

"You don't have to stay for long, just a few more days and then you can go home. If you're homesick then why don't you tell me about the sorts of things that you do with your parents?"

He might not feel too homesick, not when he realised that both Loki and Thor would know he had gone missing and would not be pleased with him.

Bruce might wish after tonight that he never asked the pup what his home life was like. Fenrir was quite the talker, which was odd at first considering he stayed a wolf for nearly half an hour while he discussed at length the sorts of trips he would accompany his father on. The worlds of Jotunheim and Vanaheim and Asgard were fully fleshed out by the tiny voice until he decided that he needed hands more than paws to help Bruce understand what his life entailed.

“Once, Ola and I stole down to Helheim. Mum was so angry because Uncle Anthony almost died again. He told me that there were only so many favours he could call into his daughter before she would completely ignore him and that Anthony was already going to be doomed to re-life at this point.” He frowned a little solemnly at Bruce. “I would apologise again to you, but are not the you who is family and once I go, there will be no trace of me here. You should see if Ola exists in this world. She is from a country called Sokovia. She was killed with her parents when Uncle Anthony’s bomb went off and he found her in the world of the dead and brought her back with him.”

Poor Bruce.

“Ola and I are trying to get her a new brother. Her brother is gone and she thinks should would make a good big sister but Anthony says that babies might make you Code Green. And him too.”

Bruce might not want to think too hard on everything that he had heard, but he had listened to every word with rapt fascination. The scientist in him was amazed to hear about these other cultures and other customs, these other species, it was mind-blowing. So when Fenrir talked about his older brother Modi and his teleportation ability, and the way he hoped that the sibling currently growing inside his mother would be another boy, and the half breed nature of himself... well, he couldn't help but drink it all in.

By the time he wound down and finished with the tale about Ola, Bruce was tired but exhilarated, unable to sleep even if he turfed Fenrir out of his room and took one of the tablets that he had in the medicine cabinets for emergencies.

"Now how about I tell you about our world, so you can understand why you're so strange to us here? And maybe so you don't think we're so weird in return."

Bruce smiled and gently started to tell Fenrir about his job as a doctor, about meeting Tony when he kept dropping cars on himself or recklessly falling off speeding motorbikes. About the way their little world worked, and how they were happy with it, and how the intrusion of aliens even for one day had wrecked such a huge part of it.

Bruce was destined to end up with a wolf pup in his lap. He might not have wanted one and Fenrir might not have wanted to seem weak in front of a stranger, but this was still his Uncle Bruce and Uncle Bruce always gave good hugs and read stories to him and Ola. Anthony tended to do off the cuff stories that were crazy and fantastical, which Fenrir liked too, but Bruce was always so calming.

That little spark of desire for a child was only going to grow win Fenrir clinging to him. Steve was not a good surrogate mother. Anthony wanted nothing to do with him. And so Bruce would have to do.

At least until the apartment was woken up by Steve charging through the place calling Fenrir's name. Loki would kill him. Thor would skin him alive. Neither were good.

Steve had no idea.

Having noted that his younger son was missing, and being unable to currently travel through the dimensions because of his pregnancy, Loki had made sure to impress upon his consort that being the All-Father would not save him from every ounce of wrath that he could bring to bear if he did not go to that realm and recover their child unharmed. He no longer cared about keeping their realms untainted, as had been his reason for sending Rogers, and so he had dispatched Thor with a vicious spell.

Fenrir might just have whimpered as a crash of thunder sent him into Steve's arms, Bruce looking more than a little exhausted at all of this.

"Please tell me that's just a storm, because this is getting ridiculous now."

One did not just send the All-Father to another realm and another dimension when he had nine realms of his own to rule and tend to. Loki had his Companion and his warriors and servants to go and check on his offspring but there was no reasoning with Loki when he was pregnant at this stage. Literally. Thor had not gotten a chance to open his mouth before he found himself face down on the street outside of the apartment. Luckily, it was still early and there wasn't any traffic. He'd been hit by cars before. Not the most pleasant experience.

Thor pushed himself up and yelled towards the sky that he could at least have been sent with Mjolnir when the hammer fell nearly on his head.

Inside, Steve was looking grim.

This was getting out of hand. He set Fenrir down and waited for him to shift back to a boy before he took him firmly by the hand and brought him outside into the eye of the storm so to speak. The wind caught in his hair as he pulled Fenrir onto the front step.

Steve made sure to hold Fenrir very tightly, he wasn't having the kid turn into something like a bug or a bird and get away from this. He met Thor outside the apartment building and nodded for him to head down the alleyway out of sight of most of the natives because Thor, in his Asgardian regalia, was hardly a subtle sight.

"Glad you could make it, I don't suppose you have a way back home?"

It was a wry question. If Loki had come, then he would have more faith that he could take his errant son and go back home, maybe even take Steve with him, and sort all this out from a distance as it should be sorted out. But he didn't think Thor had a lot of experience with world hopping.

Fenrir looked down at his feet, as if by not looking at his father he could avoid the telling off that must be coming. Stupid Uncle Steve being so strict, stupid other Midgard not having proper Uncles or Ola, stupid everything.

Though Thor was massive and impossing undressed and simply standing nude, fully clothed and in armour, he was downright terrifying. No man alive could have shoulders as wide as his and the pauldrons of the golden armour almost doubled that. Thor removed his helmet and gazed at Steve for a moment, clasping his arm in greeting, before he uttered a single word to answer his question. "Nay."

Thor took a knee after that, cloak billowed out as if he had attendants to see to it that he never stopped looking regale and intimidating, and placed the helmet on the ground by his current youngest.

Their eyes met. Fenrir had dark hair and bright green eyes like his mother, but his face was all Thor and he would grow up to be more broad and taller than his brother. Thor placed one crushing hand very gently on his son's shoulder.

"Your mother is in a fit over fear for your safety. You should be fearful of returning home. But until that time comes when you are to answer for your mischief, know that I am relieved to find you well and with Captain Rogers."

Thor pulled his boy into his arms. He had learned centuries ago on Midgard that one could be a warrior and still hug their children.

Oh no, now Fenrir really was scared. If his father wasn't going to tell him off and even warned him about how angry his mother was then that could not be a good sign. Fenrir loved his mother, of course he did, but he didn't fear anyone else's wrath quite so much. His father had an anger that burned bright and hot, but usually finished itself in physical punishment or shouting. His mother had a much more imaginative streak for making sure his punishments stuck.

So he buried his head into the edges of that hard golden armour and shuffled quietly, little arms holding fast in a way that looked comical for how disparate their sizes were.

"I don't want to go home, then," he muttered. "Can't you tell Mother that it was an accident and I'm okay and you already shouted? And then I can go live with Ola and Uncle Bruce and Uncle Anthony on the proper Midgard."

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"We can't all stay with Dr. Banner, and you're both so far outside of human that we can't hide you. This is getting out of hand now."

There was no protecting his children from Loki. He loved his boys feircely but he always would not be defied. Thor oft thought that his attitude was less to be minded and more to be sure that the hardship in his youth was not carried to his sons. They grew up all the better for it. Thor hugged Fenrir more closely. In the next few centuries, he would outgrow being held but for now, he still had some of that baby smell clinging to the top of his head and Thor found it soothing.

"I will tell him that I caused great torrents to fall upon Midgard but I fear it will do no good. He may take you to the home of your grandmother for your lesson to keep you away from your companion rather than banish you happily to the care of his," Thor pointed out. Sending Fenrir to live with Stark and Banner would be no punishment and the time on Vanaheim moved so slowly compared to the other Realms that his son could be away a year and it feel like only weeks upon Midgard.

Thor stood and banished his armour, lifting his son into his arms, before he tilted his head to Steve.

"I have walked upon this world as mortal, my friend," he laughed, chest and boy bouncing. "And as such, I believe myself capable to blend in." He stressed 'blend' as if it was not a word he had ever heard of. "Needs we have of trimming short my beard and hair. My father kept his own hair more tidy."

Thor had let his mane grow wild with braids however. But a trim should help.

"But do tell me. You said this is the residence of Banner? Let us say hello! I have met him many times while he sleeps to warn him of the danger. I should like to see what this man awake is like." A man without the Hulk. How amusing!

Steve almost felt like he wanted to cry. He liked Thor a lot, he did, but the man did not know the definition of the word subtle. He had walked on Earth as a mortal, sure, but he had messed up behaving like one and been so obvious that he had been seen either as insane or an actual alien. There was no way that just a haircut and a beard trim would make him seem human.

"No, Thor."

He didn't usually like to use his Captain's voice outside of battle, when he was the leader of the Avengers and so his word went, but sometimes it was necessary even when dealing with a man who was a king in his own right.

"You're too obvious and you're too big, you're not going to fit it. I'm going to rent you a motel room, and you and Fenrir are going to stay there until the deadline to meet, and you're not going to do anything else. I'll bring you food, and you can watch the TV. I'm sorry, but this world just isn't prepared for Asgard."

They were all so normal here, he was almost jealous. Even the Bucky, damaged as he was, wasn't the broken and hollow thing that his Bucky had become. He wanted to preserve this world as much as possible, he didn't want to mess it up with aliens and other realities and the battles they had to do.

"No meeting Bruce, no wandering around. Got it?"

Thor did not care for being told what to do and he did not care for having these demands levied at him in front of his son. However, despite his status as All-Father, Thor had come to appreciate Steve Rogers as the supreme commander when it came to work done as an Avenger and not as simply Thor All-Father. This was an important thing to teach to Fenrir as not even a king was above answering to another and he needed to learn that. Despite Loki’s views on the subject.

“I will not be shepherded to a motel to watch television for the next several days. I will, however, bring Fenrir with me to the place called Norway. We will stay in the fjords, friend Rogers, and fly only when we will not be seen at night.” It just wouldn’t be dark for hours now, of course, given that it was morning, but Thor was still ready to chance being partially seen. The sky was being monitored for more alien vessels and he had already been spotted. What harm would it do? “I will return upon the designated time. Fenrir, hold tight to me.”

Sorry, Steve. Thor might appreciate being cautious but he didn’t like to be so himself. He lifted a hand for Mjolnir and the hammer happily returned to his attention.

It was better than having Thor wander around New York or one of the other big cities, so Steve just let him gather up his small son and disappear into the morning, before he slunk back into the apartment with Bruce to tell him what had happened and ask him to please keep the knowledge of Asgardians here a secret. As much as he could.

Across town, the other Steve might be having a bit of a better wake up.

He had to go to work in another hour or so, but Bucky had deliberately turned his alarm off and gone into the kitchen to make him breakfast in bed. It just turned out that cooking with one arm was much more difficult than he remembered, even cracking an egg went kind of wrong.

What was supposed to be pancakes turned into a kitchen full of smoke, Bucky covered almost head to foot in flour and batter and bits of eggshell, swearing at the frying pan as if it had insulted his mother.

The influx of cold air from Bucky trying not to make the smoke alarms go off was what roused Steve. He felt along his side for Bucky but, not finding him there and his part of the mattress cold, pulled himself up and headed out to the kitchen. He couldn’t be mad or even annoyed, the intention had been good, and he knew Bucky would clean up everything he made a mess of.

“Is this a hipster breakfast? Pancakes and eggs deconstructed served on a butcher block with straws?” New York was full of weird foods. He never understood the deconstructed meal trend, though. Not even his artistic side wanted to pay for ingredients he needed to put together himself at the table and he definitely always wanted to be served on a plate and nothing else too exotic.

Steve bent to pick up an egg shell, which he tossed into the sink before he wet a cloth and lightly marked a swirling S in the flour on Bucky’s cheek.

“Want a little help, Buck? I don’t want to ruin your vision, of course.”

Bucky scowled at the pan, which now hard what looked like a solid black lump of charcoal stuck to the inside of it, and grumpily kissed Steve on the lips.

"Your fucking kitchen is fucking with me," he griped, his language always getting shocking when annoyed. It was part of his time in the army, nobody had a clean mouth in life or death situations. "I just wanted to cook you goddamn breakfast and your pan is shitting with me."

He picked up a spatula and tried to, unsuccessfully, pry off the black lump from the bottom of the pan.

"You're meant to be in bed looking gorgeous, and I'm meant to come swanning in with a full tray of breakfast and wake you up that way so you know that you haven't scraped the bottom of the fucking barrel with boyfriends. And look at this-- Jesus wept."

Steve rolled his eyes. “Well your problem really is this pan,” he said, giving in a little to Bucky’s excuse. “This pan is the worst, that’s why I keep it in the oven and not…um…in this part of the oven….” Okay, so his ability to go along without laughing was impossible. He took the pan from the stove where Bucky was trying to single handedly chip off the burned stuff and, taking a look at it, put the whole thing in the trash. “We have some frozen waffles in the freezer. Why don’t you try again with those and a little bit of strawberry jelly? My favorite. You’ll be the hero boyfriend of any guy’s dreams.”

He quickly rubbed off the excess flour from Bucky’s face before he took himself to the bathroom for a shower and to shut the windows along the way now that he knew that the place wasn’t going to burn down.

“Then you can surprise me when I’m done getting ready!”

He didn’t know how to get it through Bucky’s head that he was wanted and loved as is…but that was a difficult thing to do in practice when Bucky never quite seemed to believe him.

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Heading out now but will tag you when I can <3

Mmmkay

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