exastris_scientia | retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

[ Clark was well into his thirties before he felt honest pain. What he might have felt as a baby, inundated by the shrill, inescapable cacophony of voices overloading his senses was something that he went through as a baby. Colic, the doctor had said. He had no idea, and his ma told him that he shattered windows for blocks around. It wasn't until Ellesmere island and the Kryptonian sentry drone attacking him after reading him as an intruder that he felt honest pain. That kind of a memory dims quickly for him, when there isn't a way to feel anything like it regularly.

His near invincibility is quite useful, when he doesn't have to worry about anything getting in the way of it. Like a certain radioactive crystal from his homeworld of Krypton, and the Bad Guy of the Week (as Thor told him that Tony referred to them) wielding it. It saps his energy, leeching his strength, and making him vulnerable. A tremor, a wave of dizziness, and sickness overwhelming him ---strange. He feels strange. Before he can do anything to avoid the next barrage, he's literally pummeled into the ground.

Pain blossoms bright and hot like the sun that gives him strength, except there's nothing for him to draw from. He tries, in vain, to pry the hands off of him, to get free of the man, but to no avail. Another few hits rock him, and he skids across the crater floor when he's tossed away like a ragdoll. He isn't fast enough to get away from the kryptonite, and when another attempt to simply push himself out of the dirt and the blood dripping from his mouth is met with failure---he calls out using the stone Thor had given him.

It was a gift when he visited for Christmas. A way to call for him if he ever needed him. He'd just never had to use it for that. His thoughts are scattered, weak, and hard to focus, but he tries:

Thor, help me.]

[The day had been like any other in Asgard as of late, save for Thor spending his time in the the Palace's library, surrounded by book and scroll alike. It was a right mess he was in, and a right mess he would leave for the bookkeepers. Heimdall called to him, requesting his presence at the Bifrost immediately. What the GateKeeper did not mention was how the thread from Midgard shook to him, like an insect caught in a web.

It was thanks to that gift; Clark's necklace. The stone worked to amplify the Kryptonian's connection to Asgard, to Thor—to Heimdall. The bridge was primed, ready for the prince's arrival, when the thought finally reaches him. Though layered, staggered in the echo of his mind, Thor hears the call clear as day. He urges Hemidall, who barely has to motion to the other side of the dome before the blond rushes headfirst into the portal.

He lands outside the crater with a blinding flash of light and deafening crack of thunder, left standing upon smoldering earth. Not that he stays there long—seeing Clark lay crumbled to the floor, the villain standing triumphant with and odd glowing sword. It only takes seconds for the sky to turn black, the ground to rumble with the clouds over head, for the air itself to spin and spark—for Thor to launch himself hammer first into the offender.

They create their own crater, one that grows deeper with each swing Thor manages. He makes the mistake of holding Mjolnir high for too long, giving their opponent just long enough to swing the green crystal sword into his side. The impact more than the weapon damage the Asgardian, sending him tumbling a few feet away. But he returns with a stream of lightning, stunning the other just so that he doesn't see the hammer carry him to the edge of the troposphere and back down.

In that time Thor rushes to Clarks side, turning the brunet over and quickly check him over.] Clark, [He sees the bloom of bruises, the lacerations... the blood from his friend's mouth, and it gives him a sickening worry. Kryptonians were a hardy people—perhaps more so than his own; they did not damage nor bleed easy.] What did this—what do you require of me? [The calm question belies his emotion, the thump of his heart.]

Quickly, speak. [Resting a hand over Clark's pendant, Thor breaks his fretful glance to peer into the sky, counting down Mjolnir's decent.]

[ There's a green cloud dissipating around them, and Clark coughs with every inhale, struggling. He coughs again when he's rolled over, bright red staining his mouth, and breath rattling ominously in his chest. He groans in obvious pain, and reaches out to grab for Thor's forearm.

Everything aches, hurts in a new and unfamiliar way, and he can't---Thor urges him to speak, and he closes his eyes, trying to find the words and the strength. ]

Miner--mineral. Sword. It's---it's Kryptonian. I can't---

[There's time still. With any luck this strike will be one of the last and—Thor's attention snaps back to Clark at the noticeably weakened grip at his arm. This is off. The forces here are not ones he's familiar with and even in the past when he's met difficulty, never did it feel so... heavy. Dreaded.

He swallows thickly to the way Clark moves and breathes, clenching the hand on his chest just so before the other raises to wipe the blood away from Clark's mouth. Something is wrong.]

The sword... Krypt— [Thor trails, taking in the smog around them, recalling the few blurred seconds of his arrival. Ice drops into his belly at the connection and he conjures a gust of wind to blow the sickly smoke away from them.] Rest easy; I will be but a moment. [He shifts, setting Clark on the ground carefully.

Mjolnir sails down then, cannoning into the ground with a body beneath it.] There, I will see you home. Taking in the sun as we go.

[ Dazed and hurting still, Clark reacts sluggishly to the touch on his chest, and the hand bearing away the blood on his lips. When the wind kicks up, shifting the green cloud away from him fully, he gasps in a shuddering breath. He's still having difficulty breathing, and finding his strength. Everything hurts, and pain isn't something he's familiar with.

He groans in obvious discomfort as Thor helps him back to rest on the ground while he deals with the enemy. His attention is fading in and out, and he doesn't even note the rocking of the ground under him as Thor fights where he can't. ]

You have to get rid of it. Have---[ The weapon is dangerous. If the wrong person got ahold of it. If anyone got ahold of it. ]

[Thor forgets, in part, of the degree in which Clark needs the sun. His mind, geared for an on-going battle, rationalizes that since he can still see there is enough light for the time being. He forgets how thick the storm he brews above them is, how the swell of his emotion only beckons it further. And he stays.

He stays beside his Kryptonian, safe in the knowledge that the monster they fight will stay under mjolnir until he is sure he can spare a moment away. Not that he can currently, with the knot twisting in his gut at Clark's agony. This is not right. He shouldn't be in such pain.]

Of course. [Thor nods, raising a hand to smooth over the brunet's forehead and into his hair, offering comfort to fight his unease and to keep the other awake.] None shall see it again. [These wounds are survivable. He tells himself, no matter the blood. Still, he can feel the hopeful thought slipping away, unable to stop the welling fear replacing it—like his mother and brother before.

Focusing so closely upon the mind below him allows him to feel that fading consciousness.] Clark, [He breathes in sharply, voice wavering at the sicking familiarly of this situation. The lethargy, the wet breath and irritation of moving. The sky darkens further, thunder rolling loudly as Thor wrestles with this acknowledgement.] Do not give in. [It's a mutter this time as both hands move to gently cup his love's face.] ...Clark.

[ Clark needs the sun, for lack of a better way to put it, like any Earth plant that flowers. Without it he's weak, vulnerable, painfully ordinary. He's distracted, briefly, from his own need for it, at the strange sensation by which Thor's touch bears away a bit of the agony he's feeling. He isn't sure how it is that works, probably mostly due to the fact that he's never felt anything like this prior to it.

The monster they fight. Clark doesn't imagine he's going to be fighting it any longer. He's not sure how to explain that feeling either. Explain the cold that's creeping in to replace the agony that each drawn in breath is. But Thor is going to get rid of the kryptonite, and ---things will be better. Things are already better now that he's here.

His eyes flutter and widen (had he closed them?) when he hears him say his name, and his breath rasps sharply, hitching on each inhale and exhale. Thor's hands, so warm, cup his face and his focus hones in on him. The rest of the world is quiet around him, and isn't that strange? His breath hiccups and catches again before stuttering out completely, face tilted awkwardly in the other man's palms, and eyes unfocused. ]

[He doesn't need to remind, Thor has been there himself and he recalls the fuzziness of it, the cold and nothingness of death—how limbs fade first and vision dims away and hearing fails. All from the link he's pouring himself into to merely keep connected, which begins slipping from him rapidly with each passing second. He swallows thickly again, thumbs quivering as they brush over the apples of Clark's cheeks.]

Plea— [Comes the quavered hitch with quick, adamant shakes of his head as the Kryptonian takes a sharp turn for the worst. His vision blurs with a rush of stinging warmth while breath is sucked in and held tight, as if the stillness would stop this tragedy. But the peal of thunder and expanse of lightning mirror the break of his heart and summon a deluge as Clark limps in his hands.] Kal, [Thor shifts nearer, heaving out those clenched breaths before pressing their foreheads together.]

Come back, [He mutters, sliding his hands back into dark, drenched locks. The blood is so suddenly pungent and still he denies it, the horrible truth he cradles so closely.] Please. I cannot— [Searing tears fall from him as his chest pulls in a staggered, ragged inhalation.] Come back to me... [Thor begs with all his heart and soul, and he waits. Waits until Clark feels too heavy, when all he can hear is white noise, until they are both cold. And the lack of anything rips at him, at the walls he's desperately rebuilt thrice over, sending him crumbling.

Outside of his nightmare Thor struggles, conjuring a storm outside equal to the one in his dream with vicious thunder, howling wind and an unforgiving rain. He lies on his back, one arm resting over his abdomen and the other splayed away as he tenses, muscles flinching in attempt to escape his wretched thoughts. Breathing is no better, stiff yet quick save for the moments he doesn't at all, softly gasping and and swallowing down any noise. It's too much to bear, even in sleep. He's lost the thing that let him hope again, that helped mend and manage his pain.

He's lost Clark; his love.]

[ Clark, in the dream, does not respond. His eyes stay open, unfocused, even as the downpour begins and drenches the both of them. He doesn't curl, like he might have before, into the touch and warmth of the other man. He can't comfort him like he would have. Would have. Could have. Never again.

Outside of the dream, in the bed they share at the farm, Clark wakes from his sleep by the abortive struggle and twitches as Thor fights against the dream. He rolls over, thunder and lightning and howling wind and rain tearing around the farmhouse. He can hear Dusty whining downstairs before bolting up to his ma's room to jump in her bed. A crack of lightning and a peal of thunder rattles the windows just as he reaches out to take one of Thor's shoulders in his hand. The other comes up to cup his cheek. ]

Thor? Hey, it's just---you're having a nightmare. Thor---THOR!

[ He doesn't want to startle him out of it, but with the storm outside and the noises he's making as if he'd had his soul ripped out of him---he doesn't really have a choice. ]

[The struggle continues until the second call of his name, the grounding touch. He gasps awake and for a moment the hand on Thor's outstretched arm snaps open to call Mjolnir out of reflex. But the hammer only rattles and leans in its place until his recognition of Clark settles in and frightened, vivid blue eyes immediately turn soft and well with relief. Leaning into the hand cupping his cheek, he tries to catch his breath.

Unsurprisingly, the storm almost dissipates over those seconds while Thor gets his bearing; lightning ceases and wind dies down, rain turns to a plump patter and thunder a gentle, occasional roll. This time it's his turn to curl into the other, if only slightly, as his hands inspect Clark's arms, shoulders and face to make doubly sure he's there. And with no small degree of hesitation Thor's gaze drops to his chest—where the lack of any injury lets a reassured, weighted sigh leave him.

He curls more around Clark then, turning to his side to do so, and rests his forehead against his shoulder while hands keep feeling the features of his face; clean and warm.]

[ Clark's eyes go between the gasping awake of Thor and the rattling of Mjolnir against the wall near the bed. He's frightened, that much is plain by the thundering, panicked beat of his heart, and the quick breaths. Clark sees the relief in his eyes, then the tears threatening to spill, and his heart twists in his chest. He waits a moment, partly because he's unsure of what even to say, so he stays still.

He stays still as the storm subsides, outside of the lingering vestiges, and then Thor curls into him. That forces movement, even as he lets Thor look him over, scared to ask what it is that he saw in the dream if he's doing this now. The heavy gaze that lingered too long on his chest once it landed there---he doesn't know what is going on. All he knows is Thor needs him right now. ]

It's ok. You're okay. [ He whispers it, afraid to speak too loudly and startle. He tilts his face into Thor's questing hands when they find his face, and take the opportunity to turn his cheek and kiss his palms. He shifts his face then, wrapping his arms around the other man as he's able, and buries his nose in the hair at the top of his head. ] It's ok.

[It felt so real, that nightmare. There was smell and feel to the dream, not just some imagined image, and that made it inescapably real. Thor could feel the wind, smell the petrichor and the blood. He could feel Clark move in his hands and then stop. He could feel the temperature seep away. And none of that was fine; it was terrifying and he wanted nothing to do with it. All Thor wanted this; warmth and closeness and love. He doesn't need the nightmares creeping back up and giving him doubts again.

The words uttered to him are encouraging against his fears, despite they way something drops into his gut telling him all is not well. And yet it is; Clark is whole—unscathed. The hold the man has on him serves its purpose well, the same as his kiss and nuzzle. While it doesn't calm the quick beats of his heart it does do away with the heavy, panicked thump. His own heart, however, isn't the one he's concerned with.

Thor shakes his head as he rolls them over, Clark into his back so that he might half lay on him with his ear pressed snug to his chest. The rhythm he listened to was translated with little knowledge as the fact it still healthily pumped was well enough for the time being, taking the anxious tingle away from every nerve in his extremities.]

Stay... [He finally mutters, taking in a soft, trembling breath while he shifts to tuck his hands beneath the other.] Please stay. [The swallow is hard as he turns his head against Clark's chest and shuts his eyes, letting those pooled tears finally fall away.]

[ Clark is blissfully unaware of the nature of the dream itself, but all too knowledgeable of the effects outside of it. The rain is still scattered and brief, the lightning is far away and the thunder rolls through like the tide on the ocean.

It's why, when Thor decides to roll them, shift so that Clark is on his back with the other man on top of him, ear pressed to his chest, he doesn't resist. He sighs heavily, feeling an anxiety he can't bear to name, and buries the fingers of one hand in the other man's hair. ]

Of course I'll stay. [ He murmurs it, a surety in his tone that defies the nightmare that plagued Thor only moments prior. ] I'm not going anywhere. I promise.

[ Clark hears the trembling of his breath, and it breaks his heart a little to. He tilts his face down, catching sight of the tears finally falling from the other's eyes, and he reaches with one hand to brush them away with a thumb. ]

[The noise that dares to rush up is caught in his throat and smothered there. Asgardians do not weep, and certainly not over nightmares. Why should he at all? Clark was here, below him. Safe. And yet every reassurance he attempts to tell himself fails, echoing and worsening in his mind.

A guilt erodes at him, one he is quickly forgetting the reason to. Thor has never been one for creativity and dreams were no exception; he often forgets the explicit details. Though emotions? Those never fail to plague him. Worry, fear, loss, helplessness, remorse. They engulf in spades and Thor fights the tremble that finds him when he begins to fully regain himself from terrors.

Hands attempt to distract then, feeling to try and shoo away the far off nagging in his mind. Foolish—don’t be foolish, he thinks. But when Clark thumbs away his tears only more follow and the breath he held forces its way out for the desperate breath his lungs need.] I am sorry, Kal, [The god gently quavers after a moment.] I am truly sorry…

[Thor isn’t sure if the apology is for his state, the storm or his real and imagined shortcomings but something whispers to him that it all is.]

[ Clark only knows a little of Asgard and its customs. He knows far less that Thor should feel embarrassed by his upset over what was clearly a horrifying nightmare. He doesn't yet know what it is about, and he is loathe to bring it up, due to the upset it is already causing.

He doesn't understand, in the moment, what it is that Thor is apologizing for, and so he assumes that it is the storm that was stirred up outside. ]

It's just a little rain.

[Though Thor had once expressed a desire for more honesty and transparency, he's not sure this is something that would fall into that category. Not for his shortcomings but instead his dream. The nightmare. And while it adds even more guilt to his conscious he goes along with Clark's misunderstanding all the same.]

Yes, [Comes the agreement with a fragile smile.] Just rain.

[He tries and distracts himself, rolling his fingertips to feel the warmth and softness of Clark's back and pressing brief, delicate kisses to his chest. The actions slow over the course of a few minutes, Thor's heart even slowing the more he settles against the other and takes in the creak of the farm house and scent of the sheets, of the Kryptonian below him. It almost alludes to him drifting back asleep, if it weren't for his blinking.

Softly and clearly he speaks, unlike before.] I apologize if I frightened you.

[ Clark wouldn't begrudge him keeping it to himself. He doesn't know that Thor and others of his people might have a propensity to have prophetic dreams. ]

Exactly. [ He says, offering a gentle smile to the other man.

He shifts his hands from where they are holding onto Thor, and shifts them up to thread through his hair instead in small, slow movements. He keeps his breathing even, though he knows the other man isn't yet drifting to sleep, but he doesn't want to disturb the moment as everything around them quiets. ]

You didn't. [ Not really. Concern and fear are different things. ] Mostly, I think you owe an apology to Dusty, that's all.

retired open post // will still tag in if threads are ongoing!

sun-dork is down i repeat sun-dork is down.

not if thunder-dork can help it!!!

go thunder-dork!

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fun fact: saturn by sleeping at last started played during this tag and w ow

wOW that's not ok.

it's really not lmfasd

well i shall believe came on for me while doing this one hahha no

clearly our music is hyper aware and trying to kill us with more emotions

it's just skynet taking over nbd

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