than the physician
more needs she the divine
rating: g
characters: Jane Foster/Thor
warnings: aftermath of possession
summary: Things like the Aether don't leave without leaving deep scars. After fighting to save the universe, Jane has to fight what that cost her - and she doesn't have to do it alone.
author's note: Title from Macbeth, Act 5 Scene 1: "Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles... More needs she the divine than the physician."
And sometimes she huddles in the corner, staring at her hands, shaking and trying to breathe because they are red red red and all the rubbing, all the scrubbing she can do will not get the Aether out from under her skin, under her soul -
Those are the moments Thor crouches against a wall and out of her flight path, lowering himself so he seems less of a threat. (Jane would laugh at that if she could, the warrior prince of an alien nation, the thunder god who wields Mjolnir, making himself less of a threat, but he understands the hindbrain better than she does because it works.) He speaks to her, low and soothing and one hand outstretched, his broad palm reaching towards her as if he has the power to stop her from tearing herself apart, the scarred lifelines turned up as if to offer her a way out. And when she convinces her body to unwind, to loosen taut muscles and uncurl from her defensive posture (protect the soft areas, the vital organs, she chokes on the taste of copper because none of it protects her mind), Jane reaches back out.
She loves him the most, then, when he smooths her sweat-soaked hair off her forehead and presses a kiss to her temple, cradling her with his massive body a bulwark against the nightmares as if to say, I love you regardless. And sometimes she wonders, as he coaxes her into resting, into stepping down from fight or flight, if this is something that happens on Asgard, if they are so mortal or broken that the darkness can turn parts of them red too.
But she never asks, breath hitching in her throat, clammy hands tucked against her skin or wrapped around Thor, and for all the love he bears her, he never tells her.
She loves him then, as she drifts off to sleep, her warrior prince guarding against the demons and the dark - and she loves him in the morning, when he’s still there as she wakes.
The Aether took so much from her, but what Malekith never understood, what Odin and Sif and the universe never realized, was that none of them could take away Thor.
Jane sleeps, and wakes, and knows there is still red beneath her skin - and Thor will be there, to wrap her in a cloak of it, a shield against all who would do her harm. (Even herself.)
She loves him, and it is enough.
rating: g
characters: Jane Foster/Thor
warnings: aftermath of possession
summary: Things like the Aether don't leave without leaving deep scars. After fighting to save the universe, Jane has to fight what that cost her - and she doesn't have to do it alone.
author's note: Title from Macbeth, Act 5 Scene 1: "Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles... More needs she the divine than the physician."
And sometimes she huddles in the corner, staring at her hands, shaking and trying to breathe because they are red red red and all the rubbing, all the scrubbing she can do will not get the Aether out from under her skin, under her soul -
Those are the moments Thor crouches against a wall and out of her flight path, lowering himself so he seems less of a threat. (Jane would laugh at that if she could, the warrior prince of an alien nation, the thunder god who wields Mjolnir, making himself less of a threat, but he understands the hindbrain better than she does because it works.) He speaks to her, low and soothing and one hand outstretched, his broad palm reaching towards her as if he has the power to stop her from tearing herself apart, the scarred lifelines turned up as if to offer her a way out. And when she convinces her body to unwind, to loosen taut muscles and uncurl from her defensive posture (protect the soft areas, the vital organs, she chokes on the taste of copper because none of it protects her mind), Jane reaches back out.
She loves him the most, then, when he smooths her sweat-soaked hair off her forehead and presses a kiss to her temple, cradling her with his massive body a bulwark against the nightmares as if to say, I love you regardless. And sometimes she wonders, as he coaxes her into resting, into stepping down from fight or flight, if this is something that happens on Asgard, if they are so mortal or broken that the darkness can turn parts of them red too.
But she never asks, breath hitching in her throat, clammy hands tucked against her skin or wrapped around Thor, and for all the love he bears her, he never tells her.
She loves him then, as she drifts off to sleep, her warrior prince guarding against the demons and the dark - and she loves him in the morning, when he’s still there as she wakes.
The Aether took so much from her, but what Malekith never understood, what Odin and Sif and the universe never realized, was that none of them could take away Thor.
Jane sleeps, and wakes, and knows there is still red beneath her skin - and Thor will be there, to wrap her in a cloak of it, a shield against all who would do her harm. (Even herself.)
She loves him, and it is enough.