"He's the only person I can think of that isn't worth helping ever..." The sentence should have ended there, but he lets out a sigh. "He's the only person I don't think I could bring myself to help. Alternate dimensions aside."
He works a bit more quickly, finishing the cube and putting it aside, opening his eyes to confirm it, before running his hands over his face.
"Even knowing what I know now... I can't say for certain that I would have acted differently." It clearly bothers him to admit it. "I was excited... I felt important, recognized... like who I was, who I was born as, meant something. Like I was part of something bigger than just being the bastard half-blood son of a monster and a witch. I was..." He grunts, holding his forehead.
"'Home' doesn't even come close to covering it. I know in my head and in my heart that Kristoff, the Richards, the Grimms, Storm, ....Andrea... they are my family and the Baxter Building is my home." He chooses his words carefully. "But Asgard... it's something inside me. A living breathing energy that reaches out to me. Call it divine influence, or... possibly just the memories of a little boy who felt he had nowhere he belonged." He scoffs.
"But then, I'm not supposed to be the one analyzing me, am I, Doctor Samson?"
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