Thor's Lieutenant

"Peter, I'm marrying you."

Or, she thought she died.

Thor wasn't going to let her go that easily.

❃

"Move!" a doctor shouted. Feet thudded on the ground, blurred frantic shouting of orders being thrown around. Nurses leapt out of the way, sensing the urgency. "She needs instant care; get her set up. Seven gunshot wounds. Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Fear.

She felt fear.

Alora didn't know what was happening. Everything was wrapped in a sheet of disorienting black and the blurred noise was overwhelmingly loud.

I'm supposed to be dead.

Cold needles pricked at her skin and her body felt heavy, like lead.

A warm hand chased away her anxiety, her fear. "It's okay, love," the trembling, husky voice was reassuring. "I'm here."

Why am I not dead?

❃

Thor paced, biting on the inside of his cheek.

It was only Loki that was keeping him from falling apart, from tearing the world to pieces.

It was only Natasha who made Thor eat, take care of himself.

Only Peter took care of Azai and soothed him.

It was only Steve who kept Tony from firing the doctors for not healing Alora instantly.

It was only Clint who made food for everyone.

Only Sam looked for the people who were going to shoot Thor.

It was only Wanda who could get Thor to make the storm clouds go away.

It was only Pieto who kept Peter from bawling his eyes out every night.

❃

"We can't wake her up yet," the doctor was explaining patiently, "not forcefully. She's off the sedatives. Her mind needs time to heal."

Thor's fingers curled into a fist. "How long should it take?" He growled. Dark clouds rolled in, thunder rippling through the air.

Wanda put her hand on Thor's arm, a silent warning to calm down.

He exhaled slowly, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. The bad weather reeled back, dissipating as quickly as it appeared.

The doctor paled, sending the auburn-haired witch a thankful glance. "It's up to her," he answered diplomatically.

❃

No pain.

Fragments of emotions, long shattered over time, were piercing themselves back together. Bottles of emotions thrown on shelves shattered.

Hot inferno.

Her broken emotions sang restless worry into the air. Her conscience began piecing itself back together, repairing the damage done due to her hidden feelings.

Peace.

Alora lost track of the seconds, of how long she had been smothered in the blanket of darkness. Yet even then, she felt happy that she had told Thor how she felt.

❃

A raspy cough drew Peter's attention. The anxious teenager shot upright, looking at the unconscious Alora first.