Chapter Text
Brunnhilde was used to waking up screaming.
However, she was not used to said screaming attracting someone’s attention. She supposed that was to be expected, now that she wasn’t on Sakaar anymore, but it didn’t make her cringe any less when she heard someone knock at her door. She slept just as badly on this ship as on Sakaar, but she wasn’t sure yet if having other people around who actually gave a damn was a good thing.
She reached for the bottle of whiskey next to her bed and took a long swig.
The knock sounded again, and Brunnhilde set the bottle down, pushing herself up and making her way unsteadily toward the door. She decided that if was Heimdall, she would gently close the door in his face and tell him to come back later. If it was Loki, she would punch him. If it was Thor…
Of course, it was Thor.
This wasn’t exactly how she wanted him to see her, but then again, when they had first met, she had fallen into a pile of trash and then electrocuted him. It frankly amazed her that he wanted to spend any time around her at all.
“Brunnhilde, are you alright? I heard…” Thor trailed off, looking as if he wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. Brunnhilde waved a hand dismissively, slightly off-kilter thanks to the alcohol.
“Just a nightmare. Don’t worry.” She had wanted to exude confidence in her voice, but it came out shaky, and even though the whiskey was numbing her, she could still feel the buzz of adrenaline in her veins. She had dreamed about Hela again, of course. Their recent battle had brought her nightmares back in full force, and now they were a sick medley of both the battle on the Bifrost and the battle when she had watched her wife die in front of her.
Sieglinde. Brunnhilde wondered when even the thought of her wife’s name alone would not cause her pain. She felt like that wound had never properly healed, and all of this Ragnarok business had ripped it open again.
“It’s no trouble,” Thor said, shaking his head. “I don’t sleep very well myself, if I’m honest.” He hesitated on the threshold, and without really thinking about it, Brunnhilde beckoned him inside. She told herself it was the alcohol, and that she was lonely, but gods , did she need company right now. She’d never say it out loud, of course, but maybe she’d be lucky and he would stay. She sat down on the bed again, patting the space beside her to ask him to sit down. She had never been very good with words, but she could gesture, at least. After a moment’s hesitation, Thor sat down beside her, and Brunnhilde could practically feel the heat radiating off him next to her. The man was practically a furnace.
“I, ah…” Brunnhilde trailed off, failing spectacularly at thinking of anything coherent to say. She picked up the bottle again, taking another drink without really thinking about it. It was more of an autopilot thing at this point. She tried to speak again.
“Look, I’m half wasted. You don’t have to stay.” Might as well be honest. He had seen her drunk before, but not in the middle of the night, disheveled from a night terror. To her surprise, however, she felt a warm arm around her shoulders, and instinctively, she leaned into the touch. Her head found the side of his shoulder, and she closed her eyes for a moment, stabilizing herself with the touch.
“Why are you so...so…” Brunnhilde gestured weakly with one hand, eyes still closed. “So nice?” She reached for the bottle again but felt empty air. There was a soft clink on the other side of Thor, and she realized faintly that Thor had gently placed the bottle out of her reach with his free hand. She very nearly protested, but it was probably for the better that way. She knew full well she had a problem; it was just that she had never really figured out how to solve it. Or wanted to solve it, really.
“We fought beside each other, and we are both still suffering. I don’t want you to suffer alone.” Thor’s voice was quiet in the dark of her quarters, and even through the layer of whiskey in her mind, Brunnhilde felt her heart twist in pain on his behalf. Her arm slipped around his back, holding him in turn. They sat like that for a while, and Brunnhilde lost track of time, Thor’s warmth and presence making her drowsy. She slumped against him, and her last coherent thought was a faint realization that his other arm had come around to hold her.
When she woke again, her head was throbbing, and when she opened her eyes, she squinted, seeing a haze of gold. She closed her eyes again, swearing at the sun and its light and warmth.
“Oh, you’re awake,” a voice rumbled next to her, and Brunnhilde’s eyes flashed open to see Thor, equally groggy and lying next to her. You’re on a ship, she reminded herself. No sun. The gold had apparently been the glint of his hair in the lights of the ship. She didn’t remember turning them on; maybe he had, or maybe they had come on automatically. She had been too drunk these past few days to really pay attention.
If Brunnhilde had been fully coherent, she would have jolted out of bed and fled, but her head was killing her, and all she could manage was a groan as she curled into Thor’s chest to try and block out some of the light from above. Gods, he was not going to let her forget this, but she was in too much pain to care right now. She only hoped Loki didn’t barge in. To her bewilderment, Thor’s arm came around her back again, soothing her with gentle motions along her spine. She wondered faintly if he expected sex for this; most anyone she had let herself become vulnerable with on Sakaar had. Kindness always had a price.
Then again, this man was a bewildering puppy-like person made of sunshine, and she didn’t understand him at all. She supposed that if he tried anything funny, she was coherent enough now that she could slip away, even if it made her head pound.
“Brunnhilde?” Thor asked, concern in his voice now. He shifted against her, and Brunnhilde peeked her head out to see that he was gazing across the room now. Empty bottles littered the floor, and Brunnhilde honestly couldn’t remember how many of them had been from the night before. Most of them, probably.
“Hungover. Sorry.” Brunnhilde jerked her head toward the bottles on the floor.
“I can see that.” Thor bit his lip and looked down at her, looking suddenly skittish. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like this. I guess we both needed sleep.” Oh. Of course he hadn’t meant to do this, it had been an accident. Something like bitter disappointment welled up within her, and she didn’t understand what it meant.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to leave,” Brunnhilde said, her voice muffled a little against his chest. “I mean, if you don’t want to leave.” Thor’s hand was continuing to stroke soothing circles against her back, and Brunnhilde thought idly that she might like to stay here all day like this, if he was willing.
“I’ll stay.” Thor’s voice was a quiet rumble against her, and she found it more comforting than she had found anything else in a very long time. Maybe they could help each other out this way. They both needed to sleep well to serve Asgard, after all. She had a ridiculous, nonsensical urge to kiss his shoulder in thanks, but managed to hold it back for now. She blamed that one on the hangover, and the fact that his warmth felt so nice against her.
“Thank you,” Brunnhilde murmured, feeling herself begin to drift off again, this time into a more peaceful sleep. “I’ll...I’ll be back to myself in no time.”
“No rush. You fought bravely and deserve rest.”
Brunnhilde started to protest, wanting to make it clear to him what exactly she did and didn’t deserve, but darkness took her, and she gave into it. That would have to be a conversation for another day.