capeandcowllogs | I'm on a roll this time;

WHO:

couldbeavoided.
WHERE: The moon. No really.
WHEN: Friday night.
WARNINGS: It is a mystery.
SUMMARY: ~~Thor brings Bob up to date. There is no good news.~~ BOB THROWS THE MOON INTO THE SUN not really
FORMAT: words

At first Thor had asked himself what Odin would have done, but the answer, in this case as in many others, was useless to him. Odin's solutions had always been good solutions, but he had been a man with secrets; and Thor, as much as he measured himself against his father's legacy, was not. He doubted he ever would be: it was struggle enough to keep something as harmless as a separate identity. The more he thought about it, the stronger was his conviction that the Sentry deserved to know what would happen.

Thor put his trust in the Norns, far away somewhere, and Odin's watchful eye, and that - as far as he knew - was how he found the man. He was close enough to the mansion that Thor might have waited and followed him; but the mansion was in the heart of the city. There were better places to have this conversation.

Veering close as he caught up, he spoke over the wind: "Come with me." He turned sharply and lighted on the nearest roof.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of the ways Thor could have told him, there were far worse ones. Because of that, Bob's reaction would be far more mild than it might otherwise have been.

He stared at Thor for a silence stretch of minutes, upward to nine. His eyes, wide and blue, remained immobile and fixed on Thor. Allied with a madman, our most formidable foe, his mind repeated, over and over. Bob absorbed their meaning as best he could. That was all he could do now, without being there. Without knowing.

"I wouldn't ally myself with madness," he said, quietly. "I don't know, Thor. You know me. You know that whatever I would do, it was for the good of-- if I was..."

Stopping mid-sentence, his mind repeated itself again. His breathing quickened, sharp and dry in the airless environment. If I was myself.

Thor had turned after a few silent minutes, half wondering if the Sentry had left - and, after another minute, he'd sat down opposite him and waited. It was impossible to tell what the man was thinking. Mortals sometimes acted in ways that Thor found strange and difficult to decipher, but the Sentry was, by far, one of the most unfathomable men he knew.

When he finally spoke, Thor shook his head minutely. "You did, and you shall, but it need not be so in this place. You are a good and worthy man, or we would not have you for the Avengers; yet we have seen you give your allegiance to evil men." He met the Sentry's eyes. "You have a power that you cannot control, and this concerns us."

"I would not-- I would--" He stood abruptly, not meeting Thor's gaze. His eyes were more gold than blue, staring out into space both accusing and questioning. His feet left the ground and he flew, needing a moment -- just a moment -- alone, to clear his head, to sort his thoughts.

I am in control. I am. I AM IN CONTROL.

He let his frustration go, and his fear, not wanting for the moment to be seen. He was afraid again, afraid that now he knew he was going to be susceptible to the Void's guileful influence. Was it forever a hopeless struggle? Would he once again succumb to the Void and did he, and did he for good? What did what Thor was telling him really mean?

His fist collided with the hard rock surface, sending rippling waves of debris flying from the source of impact. He could feel it extend further in past his arm, but he flew off again, circling the moon once without assessing the damage.

Landing beside Thor again, he stood, head bowed, and waited a moment for his rush of emotions to pass before he spoke. He looked up, eyes blue.

"I am in control. You don't need to be concerned."

Thor stared back at him, lips pressed into a hard line. He had felt that, whatever it was, that impact, something striking the surface - that was not the reaction of a man who was in control.

There was nothing to be done about it. He reached behind him and picked up his hammer before answering. "Not long ere I was brought to this strange land, I saw fair Asgard crushed beneath your strength. Her towers now are ruins, and her people are diminished, both in number and in spirit. Give me cause to believe that this will never befall a mortal city, and I'll believe you." He clapped a hand on the Sentry's shoulder and moved past him. "Pray give me cause."

"I'm in control," Bob repeated, hoping the more he said it the more true it would become. "I promise you, Thor. You can trust me. I've been there with the Avengers: Pym. Iron Man. Captain America. Carol. All of them. I'm your friend."

His gaze shifted, fixed again on the expanse of stars spiraling around them.

"You have to tell me, Thor," he continued, quietly. "Was it him? Was it the Void?"

Thor froze.

I'm your friend.

And he was, in spite of everything, and that made it more difficult to understand how he and the Void were the same: Thor knew only that they were.

He looked up at the stars, seeking wisdom but finding none. He was alone in this; it was his answer to give, whether or not it was wrong. If the Void was not Robert Reynolds, then Robert Reynolds could not be held responsible for the Void. If he could not be held responsible, this talk of control was nothing but empty words.

"No, Robert," he said, turning back. "It was you."

Bob's eyes widened. Somehow, he wasn't sure if that was better, or far worse.

Tensing his arms and shoulders, Bob's fingers curled against his palms in loose fists and he turned his eyes to the ground. He didn't know how to argue; there was so much about the future he didn't know, and even then he couldn't say with certainty that nothing would happen. He couldn't control the Void. No one could.

That was the truth. And he couldn't assure Thor it wouldn't happen without lying. The Void could do anything. He could be anywhere. Bob's only reassurance was the possibility that the Void hadn't come here with him at all.

"I did all that?"

"Aye. Would that it were not so." Thor looked away, fighting the compulsion to tell him the rest of it: that he had killed two gods in one day, that in his last moments he had been more a monster than a man, that he was dead. (That his wife was dead - but that, apart from the rest, that he would never say; it would be needlessly cruel.) He stomped it down. It seemed not right, somehow, to go into detail. As much as some vengeful part of him wanted it, Thor didn't see the use of demanding that he regret things he hadn't done.

Bob's eyes darkened, and he turned his attention to his hands, then the cold grey rock under his feet. Everything was quiet. There was no wind, no sound of even his own breathing.

"I'm going to go," he said finally, still not looking at Thor. "I need to think."

It was not an unexpected outcome, and neither was it particularly good or bad. It was, Thor supposed, most likely what he would have done in the Sentry's position. Struck with sudden empathy, he wondered where Robert would go, and if he would come back, and if he was thinking about how the world might be safer without him.

"Do as you must." Thor laid a hand on his shoulder again for a brief moment, willing it to communicate everything that his mistrust and sorrow for Asgard prevented him from saying, and moved away to give Mjolnir enough room to take him home.

Bob said nothing more, lifting off the ground and circling out of sight, flying as fast as he could. He had to try to outrun Thor's words and his own thoughts, leave them in space where they couldn't harm himself or anyone else. Part of him was still angry -- but the rest was afraid.

Everything Thor described was the last thing Bob wanted for the future. Everything he feared. He worried that if the Void every came back, he would try and take the world into the sun with him.

He sped up, leaving a golden streak of light behind him as he flew.

I'm on a roll this time;

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