Worthy - Endgame Thor

Worthy

I grimaced as I walked inside.

The waft of stale alcohol washing over me as soon as I opened the door.

By this point you would have guessed that I would have adjusted to it, but I hadn't and each time I came to visit my old friend it only got worse.

From the narrow hallway I could hear the TV and rolled my eyes, you would have thought that a Norse God would have more taste than to play Fortnite but here we are.

It was a sorry state of affairs, to see Thor reduced to the man he was now.

Seeing him suffer this whole time with guilt and denial filled me with sympathy for him and I wanted to do nothing but help him, but he would never accept help and would rather drown his sorrows with as much beer as possible to keep himself numb with intoxication.

PTSD had hit him hard and I wasn't sure what I could do to help, so I simply decided to stay by his side through thick and thin.

Stepping into the room, I was mildly surprised to see him sat there alone, staring intently at the TV while wildly mashing at the buttons on the controller.

"Hey, no Korg or Miek today?"

Thor briefly glanced away from the screen and smiled widely.

"Hey! Nah, just me, they're off doing something or other."

"Something or other? You didn't want to join them?"

It was a stupid question that I already knew the answer to, but I wanted to keep some form of normalcy between us.

Thor shot me another look, this one darker as if I had just suggested that he cut off a hand to feed a slug.

Rolling my eyes, I dropped the subject and went about my usual routine when I'd come over to visit.

This meant that I spent most of my time tidying up after him, disposing of wrappers and recycling what I could, all the best for New Asgard's future, while he sat around and yelled at the screen while furiously bashing buttons and insulting someone's ancestry.

Good times.

But if it meant helping to keep him on some kind of track, then I was happy to help in any way that I could.

So, I went about my usual tasks of picking up bottles, cans and packets to throw away while having brief conversations with Thor as he glared at the screen.

I also wiped down surfaces of dust, polished the ones that needed doing and cleared crumbs and the like off the floor.

It was never amazingly extensive, that seemed almost impossible to achieve in this tiny space, but as long as the area was clearer than it had been when I started then we were both content and comfortable enough to get by.

Once everything was cleared to a satisfying degree, I ran a hot bath then walked to the main room to stand beside him, watching the screen for a moment before turning to him.

"Come on, big guy," I smiled, patting his shoulder, "it's time to get washed up."

"Just one more game," he whined, looking up at me like a pleading child.

"No, one more game turns into five, I learned that the hard way last time and," I leaned in, wrapping my fingers around the mouthpiece on his headset, "you smell like booze and week old cookies."

Letting go of the microphone, I stepped back again and put my hands on my hips.

Typically, I wouldn't force or coerce him into anything he didn't want or was reluctant to do but this was something that would benefit us both and he usually appreciated it afterwards despite his initial reluctance.