Last spark from the ashes

If Blaze had told Thor that he wouldn't be allowed to remain in Steve's life, it would not have changed his mind to turn his friend's body over to the Guardians, no matter how painful that decision would have been. It would have been worth the price to know that somewhere out there, Steve still lived, kicking ass and taking names, even if Thor would never see him again.

But hearing otherwise still feels very reassuring, regardless. He's lost too many friends, too much family, to not hold tight to what little he has left.

Thor steels himself and carefully lays the shrouded body on the bier, careful to ease Steve's head down as if he were only injured. For a moment, he can even fool himself that that's the case, until he steps away and reality comes crashing back in. The serum won't heal this, no matter how long they wait. It's to be a Ghost, or nothing at all.

He lets out a heavy sigh and rubs at his eye, weariness creeping back in around the edges as he suddenly has nothing to do with himself. It's a feeling he knows well, and his hand itches for a bottle of mead to fill the emptiness, as he's done for months now. Not an option at the moment, obviously, so he chases away that thought. "What's the longest you've had to wait before?" he asks instead.