#still waiting for my fic where thor comes to take his hammer back #and is at first pissed #and then is like #’it’s you. the lad who stopped ragnarok.’ #and sam is just…stunned silent #as thor claps his hand onto his shoulder #and gives him a small proud smile #and mutters ‘humans’ fondly #’you will never cease to amaze me’ #before asking politely for his hammer #which sam hands over #still not really knowing what’s going on #and before he flies off he says #’thank you my friend #your sacrifice and bravery are not as forgotten as you think’ #and sam just #sits down #yeah that totally happened ok [x]
He still had the hammer.
Okay, yeah, it wasn’t his and he didn’t have any precedent to keep it, but he kept it nevertheless. His brain insisted it was a bad idea, given how protective Plutus had seemed of his goods being auctioned- but he was dead, and the hammer was surprisingly light, so Sam opted to keep it.
And since then, it had become little more than a curio in the Men of Letters bunker; just sitting in a storage room, dust-covered and silent. Still, every once in a while, Sam would walk past it and pick it up and heft it in his hands, admiring how light it was, how seemingly responsive it was in his hands. Dean would snort, if he was with him, mutter ‘nerd’ under his breath- but Sam didn’t rise to it, because he had seen Dean try to pick it up more than once and with unutterably dumb expressions on his face.
Why Sam could pick it up and Dean couldn’t he had no idea- but he had watched Dean coerce both Crowley and Cas into picking it up more than once, and while Cas could just about lift it a centimetre above the table before dropping it again and deeming it ‘too heavy’, each time Crowley tried to pick it up it almost buckled the table with sudden increased weight.
Sam had written it off and ignored it as more pertinent issues came to light, but on quieter days when the bunker was silent and still, Sam would pick up the hammer, give it an experimental swing, marvel at its light weight and overt power, the symbols engraved on its surface, the sheen of leather and steel.
But it remained a curiosity, nothing more.
Until, naturally, the inevitable time came, as it always did, that a curiosity in the Winchester’s home was going to get them punched in the face.
It happened to be Dean, as he opened the bunker door that day. It was only karma, as he had just attempted to forcibly cut Sam’s hair.
As Dean yelped and bounced down the stairs of the bunker, a figure made himself announced to the bunker’s inhabitants in a way that sadly Sam had seen twice before- with a flowing cape and crashes of lightning and a booming voice.
"WHERE IS MY HAMMER?!" He yelled to the bunker. Kevin walked into the room, gave one look to the scene, and walked out again. Dean groaned from where he was partially encased in the stairs.
"One day, just one day where people don’t kick the fuckin’ door in and kick me down the fuckin’ stairs," he grumbled, sitting up and looking at the intruder. "Who the fuck are you?"
"I am Thor, son of Odin," the blond man announced loudly, storming down the stairs. "And you have stolen Mjolnir."
"Myuh-myuh?" Dean managed, rubbing his head weakly.
"No, Dean, Mjolnir," Sam corrected even as he walked around the desk towards his gun, "It’s the hammer of Thor, it’s kind of famous-"
"-And you presumed to take it from me." The smile that curved up Thor’s face was almost amused. "I’m impressed, truly- but I will not allow it."
Sam weighed up his options and chose the course he decided wouldn’t get him killed. “-Do you want it back? I mean, we’re not really using it, no need to fight us for it, we’re happy to give it to you.”
Dean and Thor looked almost as shocked as each other.
"You shall?" Thor said, one blonde eyebrow raising.
"We are?" Dean asked, rubbing his head some more as if convinced his concussion had caused those words to materialise.
"Yes, Dean." Sam said, with his patented shut up Dean I’m trying to be diplomatic to a god bitchface. Rarely used, potent when unleashed.
"But he just threw me down the stairs." Dean was almost whining under the power of Sam’s bitchface and his own concussion.
"And the stairs found a worthy adversary," Thor said magnanimously, offering a hand to the Winchester. Dean gave Thor a suspicious glance, then wilted under Sam’s bitchface and allowed himself to be helped up.
Thor had lost his earlier temper, and was now smiling- he was all of a sudden completely trusting of the two men that had stolen his hammer, with only a verbal agreement to hang from.
"I’ll, uh, show you to it, then," Sam said, shrugging vaguely and leading the Norse god towards the large storage room it was kept in. Thor looked at the contents of the room in surprise.
"Are you allied with the Collector?" Thor questioned, awe in his voice, as he looked at the large and well-stocked room, leaning in to inspect one of the amulets on a table in greater detail.
"Who?" Sam asked, sifting through a pile of Dean’s magazines to find Mjolnir.
Thor looked suspiciously at Sam for a moment, before deciding that Sam didn’t look the type to have a relationship with one of the most powerful beings in the universe. “-It is not of import. However, it is perhaps of relevance to ask your na-“
Thor trailed off in mid-sentence. Sam had located the hammer and held it up, before sliding his hand down the grip and holding it to Thor.
"Here- this is the right one, right?"
Thor seemed to be asking that question himself. Slowly, with glances between Mjolnir and Sam, he took the hammer, before raising it cautiously to the sky. Arcs of lightning sparked at its surface and leapt to the wires above them- the room beside them went dark as a light shorted out.
"Son of a bitch!" yelped Dean from the newly darkened room, a crash sounding from his direction a second later.
Thor lowered Mjolnir again.
"This is Mjolnir, that is for certain. But you have raised a pertinent question."
"Uh, exit’s that wa-"
"No. You wielded my hammer." Thor looked at Sam, a fresh expression of awe in his eyes. "Only the truly worthy may wield Mjolnir, and you, unknown thief that you are, hold it with ease. Who are you?"
Discomfort and pride battled for dominance in Sam’s mind, before settling on discomfort. “Uh.” Sam managed at first. “Sam. Uh- Sam Winchester.”
Awe gave way to shock, and Thor seemed to be openly admiring Sam at this point. “Sam Winchester. The one who stopped Ragnarok.”
Sam took a moment to remember that yes, he had indeed stopped that apocalypse too. Really, he ought to list these things somewhere.
"Yeah, that was me."
Thor laughed then, open and loud, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Humans! I shall never cease to be impressed at your resolve.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder (Sam could feel his legs buckling) and amusement gave way to quiet honesty in his voice.
"Thank you, my friend. Your sacrifice and your bravery is not as forgotten as you think." He told Sam quietly.
And then he strode off into the darkened room, swinging his hammer rhythmically before lifting into the sky and up the stairs.
And he was gone.
Sam stared after the god.
"Well, that happened," he mumbled to himself, rubbing his shoulder absently. Dean dragged himself up from where he had fallen onto the floor- his eyes were wide in the darkness.
"What happened?! Where is he?! What did he do?!"
Sam stared after the empty door, the open stormy skies.
"He complimented me."
Dean looked, if only for a moment, stunned. Then he laughed and sat back onto one of the desks.
"Yeah, well, you’re both probably just as nerdy as each other then."
And Sam laughed too, because he knew that was as close as his brother would ever get to saying ‘you deserve it’.