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When he was younger, when Camden and his mother and his father (so, everyone, basically) was still alive, they'd gone to Disneyland the once. At the time, Isaac had been too young to appreciate a happy, shiny family, but he looks back on that and wonders why the hell he didn't pay attention to the fact that his father wasn't throwing glassware at the walls and his mother was happy and Camden was living and breathing. So Disneyland had lived grandly in his memory as a beacon of a shining time.

It's been pulled out from memory, though. He'd been with April at the hotel, still trying to avoid reality and the implications of what his new feelings for Allison meant for his friendship with Scott (which didn't even touch on the pack implications) and suddenly instead of wandering into his room to grab a jacket, he's staring at the entrance to Disneyland.

It's Disneyland. For some reason, he's opened a door to the happiest place on earth, which is almost a cosmic joke considering who opened that door. It hadn't taken him very long to find a brick to prop the door open before grabbing April's hand to tug her through the door. It's like a switch has gone off. Before, in the Nexus, Isaac had still been trying to shake off all the bad things that had piled up in his life, but here? Here is where Isaac is happy without consequence or reproach or the fear that sharp, glass things will be thrown at him as soon as he gets comfortable (at least, not unless the Jungle Cruise gets pretty intense).

"Where to first?" he asks April, as soon as he's shaken off the very last of his worries that this is somehow a trick. "My only veto is Haunted Mansion," he warns, not knowing how the hell the wolf is going to react to all of that.

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[For Isaac only, please!]

"Oh. Okay," April agreed, secretly a little disappointed to miss the Mansion, but too overwhelmed by the swirl of sights and sounds around them to argue. She was an American kid; she'd always wanted to visited Disneyland. And then there was the fact that Isaac was holding her hand, which was honestly kind of distracting.

"Um," she continued, blinking around them and trying to think. "I don't know. Pirates? Or one of the roller coasters? We could start out with a bang," she added with a grin.

There are so many options that it kind of makes Isaac's head hurt, but he's caught up in a whirlwind of kids and music and sounds and rides. He wants to do everything and he feels like he's five years old again and it feels so good. "Last time I was here, I took my brother on the teacups and I'm pretty sure he swore he'd never forgive me," he says, grinning at April with a dare of a glint in his eyes. "Wanna see if you can withstand what he couldn't?"

"You are so in for it," April replied, her bright smile turning just a little devious. It had been a few hours since she'd eaten last, so she was pretty sure she could make it without puking.

Still gripping Isaac's hand, she started two steps in one direction, halted, glanced quickly at the park map clamped in her other hand, and then started off in the opposite direction, tugging on Isaac's arm.

"Yeah, I don't think so!" he says, the last two words practically flung out of his lungs when she grabs him and he goes trailing after her in the direction that they're going in. "You know, I barely remember going on space mountain, either," he says as they walk. "It's like, the memory's there, but it doesn't feel like it's from my own life, like it doesn't belong."

"Well, I've never been on Space Mountain or anything else here at all, so we'll both make new memories," April insisted, her smile encouraging despite her twinge of sadness at what Isaac was implying. How awful, to feel like the nice times of your life didn't fit with the rest of it.

They'd reached the castle by this time, and as they entered the cool shadows of the pathway through it, April had unconsciously slowed, tipping her head back to look at the raised portcullis.

"Is it weird that I think just being here is cool?" she asked, and looked back to Isaac. "Not the rides, but like, even the kiddie stuff."

"No, I get that," Isaac admits, following after her as he takes in what everything looks like now that Camden doesn't have to carry him around on his shoulders to feel big. He even thinks he's taller than his brother had been, at his age. "What's the coolest place you ever went when you were a kid, then?"

"Coolest? Jeez, I don't know," April replied, and tilted her head in thought. "I grew up in New York, which is pretty cool by itself, but I haven't been many other places. Atlantic City was okay, but I couldn't gamble or anything, so it was a little weird. My dad and I go to Coney Island sometimes, that's fun. Nothing like this, but we get hotdogs and ride the rides."

She hesitated a moment, feeling slightly awkward, and then added, "You should come sometime."

"Your world probably doesn't have anywhere near the mess mine does," Isaac confesses, given that he's been trying to stay away from Beacon Hills because he can. "Coney Island sounds..." he drifts off, slightly, thinking of how simple it sounds. "Awesome."

"Yeah?" April replied, and then beamed out a big smile. "Awesome. I'll talk to my dad about it," she added as they stepped into the line for the teacups. She'd also have to figure out a way to manage the trip without the guys knowing, because if they knew, they'd manage to show up somehow, even if it was only to rib her.

Isaac doesn't like to think that his father has affected him in a way that he'll never be a normal guy, again, but right now he feels like he has a due right to be wary of father figures (especially after things went sideways with Derek). "Your dad, huh?" he echoes, some of the hope bleeding out of his face. "HE's uh, he's a cool guy? Calm? Pretty okay?"

"My dad is amazing," April replied, emphatic until she saw the look on Isaac's face. "He's really nice," she quickly continued. "He's a scientist, so he's a pretty big nerd, but he's a good dad. You'll like him, I swear. He's not one of those scary dads who threaten to shoot the boys his daughter goes out with or anything. Not that we would be going out," she hastened to add, and then gave a tense little laugh.

It's not guns Isaac worries about. It's something more insidious than that and even though she's reassuring him pretty well, he can't talk all the tension out of his shoulders. It lingers there and eats him up until he tries to remind himself that not all fathers are like his father. "I only really know one decent father, where I'm from. Stiles is really lucky to have him."

The implication there was obviously that Isaac's father wasn't or hadn't been a decent one. That Isaac's home life was less than stellar had been obvious almost from the first time they'd met, but this added one more piece to the puzzle, and it took all of April's effort to keep a cheerful face on.

Had he hit Isaac? Abused him in some other, unfathomable way? A flare of protectiveness surged briefly through her, and for just a couple of seconds she wished she could find the guy just to kick him in the teeth.

She swallowed it down. Luckily, it was their turn, and there was distraction in grasping hold of Isaac's hand again and tugging him toward the nearest teacup.

He goes along, his shoulder feeling like it's momentarily been popped out of its socket. There's a mild yelp of surprise, but he follows after, feeling his pride rising. He cannot puke on this ride, not when he's got wolfiness supposedly helping him. "So, how mean are we going to be to each other, here?" he asks with a wry smirk.

April grinned indulgently as she took a seat on the molded plastic bench and grabbed hold of the wheel in the center of the cup.

"Oh, I am going to be mean," she replied. "But no puking until we get off, that's the rule."

"I'm pretty sure I can handle my own bodily fluids," he says with a cool smirk, even though there's totally every chance he'll puke on the ride. He's not entirely sure the manual covers what happens to nausea when you become a werewolf.

[For Will McAvoy, please.]

MacKenzie is ashamed to admit she's never actually been to Disneyland except once as a small child. She barely remembers any of it, most of the day a blur of tears because she'd lost her favorite teddy bear and sent her father trekking after it, so when she hears there's a door that opens right up to the happiest place on Earth, she starts planning how she's going to get Will to come with her.

She has finally managed to drag him to the theme park with well-applied use of a pout and big eyes and she flashes him a grin once they're in the park. "Now, this isn't so terrible, is it? It's the happiest place on Earth. We should get Mickey ears with our names on them and get photos at Sleeping Beauty's castle and ride It's A Small World. It'll be fun with no children in tow, won't it?"

"I can feel the happiness exuding from everything around me," he says, but he's really not feeling it. Fucking Disneyland, really? He's never been (when he was young enough to want it, they didn't have the money; now that money is no object, he doesn't fucking want to go) and has no desire to go but Mac gives him that fucking pout and he doesn't have it in his heart to tell her No.

"Stop being a Grinch," MacKenzie says, sliding her hand in his and squeezing it a little.

"We won't stay the whole day, just long enough to get some pictures and buy some souvenirs. I don't remember coming when I was a little girl because my brothers stole my teddy and made me cry."

Mac squeezes his hand and he relents just a little. He still isn't used to the idea of them being engaged and he thinks that if he's going to get used to it, he needs to stop automatically saying no to everything or being grumpy at her just to be grumpy. "I guess there's no rush," he says. "It's not like we're missing out on anything back in New York."

"No, we're not, and it's romantic. When's the last time we've done anything romantic anyway?"

MacKenzie is fairly sure that's about six years ago, or a few weeks ago if she's counting the engagement, but they haven't had much time together as a couple and she'd like to get to know him again. "We can go on a carousel together and everything."

"Hey, don't push it," he says, but it's slightly less grumpy than before. "Did you know that this place is my age? It opened the same year I was born. Not that I knew it at the time."

"It seems to have stolen all your cheer for life," MacKenzie teases. "Come on, is it that awful? Spending time with me? I know there's children underfoot and it's hot but it's not like we've got to stay all day. I just want a little taste of it so I can say I went to Disneyland. Some photos, some souvenirs, back to the hotel for more adult pursuits? Hmm?"

"Spending time with you is not the problem," he says, tugging on her hand a little. "Okay. I will make the effort. But I draw the line at wearing Mickey Mouse ears."

"But will you buy me a princess hat with my name monogrammed on it?" MacKenzie asks, putting on her most winning smile.

"I always wanted one of those."

"You can have a princess hat, or a Minnie Mouse hat, or whatever kind of hat you want," Will says, and kisses her lightly. "Multiple hats, all at the same time, if it makes you happy. As long as I don't have to wear one."

"I am appeased," MacKenzie says, nodding once. "All right, so, what kinds of rides are off limits? Nothing that is going to cram you into a tiny car, right?"

Thor knew nothing about this Disneyland, except that his normal Asgard garb seemed not to be out of place. All of the things seemed so small and it was only after trying to squeeze himself into some sort of elephant shaped flying machine that he thought his legs might be a better form of conveyance than any of these so called rides.

There was also the matter of children, who seemed to be extraordinarily interested in him as he moved from place to place. "Thor! Mommy, it's Thor," he heard one cry out before he broke into a run and tossed himself around his knees.

"Whose child is this? Who does he belong to?"

"Timmy! Oh, thank you, I was having a heart attack!" exclaimed a woman as she came rushing forward to haul the child back. Timmy was latched on tight, so it took a few tries.

"Would you mind signing his autograph book?" the mother asked, and fumbled in her fanny pack for a little rectangular book covered with images of Disney characters. She thrust it toward Thor with a pen as Timmy bounced happily on the balls of his feet.

Having watched most of this from a distance, Jane now sidled up beside Thor, offering the family a strained smile as she whispered, "We really need to buy you some less conspicuous clothes if you're going to be here." Already more people were gathering around, readying similar autograph books and cameras.

Thor scribbled "Thor, son of Odin," in the boy's book before looking at the long line of other children who were scrambling for photographs and signatures of their own. "Why do they all seem so fascinated with me?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth, trying to keep his voice pitched low.

It was unusual, the reactions he got from people in this place and in New York when he'd briefly visited a few days before. While he did not necessarily mind the attention, he'd only been seeking to explore this place and spend time with Jane, not sign books for children.

"You're a superhero," Jane hissed back as she surveyed the growing crowd. "They probably think you're a fake you. Someone dressed up as you as part of the park, for photo ops- Oh my god."

Fourth in line was a little boy with spindly arms, huge Coke-bottle glasses, and a pair of plastic, golden, "Thor"-style wings on his messy head. It was one of the most adorable things Jane had ever seen.

"Look, I'm going to go buy you a t-shirt and maybe one of those ugly Goofy hats," she continued after a moment's staring at the child. "I've got nothing against children, but it wasn't on my agenda to wrangle them all day. I've got an appointment with the Matterhorn."

Edited 2013-10-24 16:56 (UTC)

"I don't have much experience with children since there aren't many in Asgard," Thor said, signing things for a few more children while he waited on Jane to return with the hat and glasses.

He ended up posing for more photographs, smile bright and eyes a bit dazed from all the flash.

Shopping bag swinging from one wrist, Jane bustled back up a few minutes later with all the confidence of a British nanny and took a firm hold of Thor's bicep, pulling him toward the restrooms.

"So sorry, but it's time for Thor to go back to saving the world," she called, and tried unsuccessfully to not feel guilty at the ensuing chorus of disappointed sighs. "He has to go fight manipulative, passive-aggressive relatives to keep us all safe. Remember to eat your vegetables and… Just say no to drugs!"

"Eat their vegetables?" Thor asked once they got away, unable to keep from laughing. He wasn't aware that his position as a figure of honor among the children of earth extended to vegetable-eating (that seemed the purview of a mother, not an Asgard prince) but maybe Jane knew something he didn't.

"Is this a big problem on Midgard?"

"Let's just say that Brussels sprouts are not exactly popular with the kids here," Jane absently replied as she directed Thor toward the men's room.

"Here," she added, thrusting the plastic bag at him. "New shirt, hat and sunglasses. Go in there and change, I'll wait." After a tick of hesitation, she hastily added, "In a stall. Change in a stall," and did her level best to not imagine Thor stripping down, regardless of location.

Thor gave her a quizzical look but went into the bathroom and changed, tugging the hat down low on his head in an attempt to hide his face from the crowds. He was still a tall man, true, but maybe not all that recognizable aside from that.

"Is this better or should I have you break my nose so I'm completely unrecognizable?"

"No," Jane replied with a little jerk of her chin. "I like the way you look. And it would probably break my hand. No fun all-around, and that just isn't allowed at the happiest place on Earth. They'd probably kick us out, it would be tragic."

Smile playing at the corners of her mouth, she jerked her head toward Tomorrowland. "Space Mountain? Not as cool as the Bifrost, but way more likely to give you whiplash." Still smiling, she nodded, lifting her eyebrows suggestively.

"I have had a definite lack of speed lately." Things had been quiet for him while in the Nexus and while Thor had some need of rest, he was a man of action. He would never be truly happy ruling over a staid and passive kingdom and would always thirst for some thrill, some new adventure.

"Could we travel utilizing this Space Mountain? Does it pass through to Asgard?"

Jane laughed and shook her head. "I really should have explained this concept to you better," she replied. "It's just a ride, for fun. It doesn't take you anywhere. You sit in a car, and the car goes fast around a twisty track. In the dark. It's supposed to be thrilling, but mostly it's just ridiculous. I always end up laughing the whole way through."

"Why would you ride in a car that goes nowhere?" Humans were strange but at least their conveyances actually went somewhere. This was a new concept entirely and one Thor wasn't sure he had a handle on just yet.

"Is this one of those things you have to do in order to understand?"

"Probably, yeah," Jane replied, and caught up Thor's hand in her own so that she could tug him toward the ride. "It goes fast, or at least it feels fast. We can't all fly, you know, we have to get our kicks somehow."

"You can fly whenever you want, Jane Foster. You need but say the word," Thor said, flashing her a bright grin and squeezing her hand. "I am happy to take you anywhere you wish to go."

He suspected that wasn't actually her point but he felt it should be said all the same.

The Doctor's got a pair of mouse ears on his head.

They're not actual mouse ears, hardly even the mouse ears that you might find on Felicitis 8 where the mice are six feet tall, can speak a lovely dialect of english, and wear interesting hats. No, these are Mickey Mouse ears, they are trademarked, and he has been reliably informed by a six-year-old boy that they are cool. Good enough for him! Thus, the ears are comfortably resting upon his head and he's staring at Space Mountain.

Which is neither in space, nor a real mountain, but look how cool it looks. He nudges the nearest passing person by the arm and points with a boyish grin on his face. Humanity! Concocting ridiculous amounts of fun and selling it to the masses. It may not be the best amusement park on the moon, but it's something else, all right.

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