Profession

Getting through it

I spoke to more Asgardians who had known and worked with Grandma, including the captain of the royal guards, who hoped that now that she was back in Valhalla again that she could spare some time to help train up the most promising members of his unit. It did help to be reminded that there she was whole and safe and could follow her own interests still. I wasn't sure that warfare was going to be such a focus of her afterlife, though. Loki had said that the Norn hadn't prophesied another Ragnarok, and they certainly hadn't mentioned anything to me. Maybe Grandma was right and it would be somebody else's turn next time.

Grandpa was, frankly, a mess. He was sitting at the edge of the hall, receiving condolences, but not interacting outside of that. Martha, Iris, and Miles were huddled next to him. They all were in a bad way. Grandpa Bruce stood over them protectively, and Xander stood on his other side. I was irritated with Xander, like he couldn't just be decent for once and acknowledge his mom and all she'd tried to do for him. Being Batman had consumed him almost utterly, and Grandma had tried to get him to have a wider life. But aside from Pete and Nick, he did what was required at work, and only truly came alive when he was wearing the costume. I wanted to brain him with something.

Grandpa did get to his feet wearily when I went to check on them, and I was hugged by him and my cousins. Then all of us started crying again, and it was a real mess. It was going to take awhile to get to the point where we weren't damp all the time. Eira came up for the first time, looking flattened at the loss of her person, accompanied by my pups and Sigurd and Torburn, shepherding her solicitously. I volunteered to get Grandpa something to drink and Eira some water. Miles came with me to help.

"I'm worried about Grandpa," I said when we got to the drinks table. Miles found a massive goblet for Eira.

"I am too," Miles said heavily. "We all thought there would be a lot more time with her. Forty, sixty years." He sniffled despondently and I desperately hoped we weren't going to be crying again. The skin under my eyes and on my nose was getting chapped.

"I'm going to be checking on him more frequently," I said. "Is there anything you want me to watch for?" I was glad for the refresher study I'd done for the psychiatric portion of my nursing 'recertification.' In our family, we needed a therapist, full time. Maybe if a cousin was looking for a new career they could do that. I couldn't do everything, and my specialty there seemed to be criminal psychology.

"Just to be sure he's hanging in there," he sighed as I got a glass of a fine, light, not-very-alcoholic mead for Grandpa and one for myself. I nodded. "Alfred's gutted, of course, but at least he still has Delara, his kids, and Grandpa to look after. Nobody's on their own, but I worry about Grandpa being alone in the house."

"Maybe I should invite him over to stay with Jon and me until the initial shock is over," I said thoughtfully, and Miles brightened slightly. My husband came to check on me, great timing, and I ran that past him. He nodded.

"Yeah, that would be good. He'd be where you could monitor him, Alfred could come and go or just take some time for himself to grieve, him and Delara. It could be good for him. You guys could come and go as you want, too," he said to Miles, putting his hand on his shoulder. Miles nodded and sighed. Jon sampled my mead, liked it, and got himself a glass while Miles and I returned to the group and I made my offer.

Grandpa Bruce looked at me soberly and nodded approvingly, and Grandpa Damian looked like he was going to refuse, but his kids urged him to think about it. And after a bit, he accepted. I went to tell Alfred, Deri, Uncles Tony, Steve, Bucky, and Richard, and Mom what was going to happen, and Modi took me down to Heimdall in order for me to go and make up a room for Grandpa. Jon would bring him along when he was ready. I was glad to have a task.