I don't know what happened here, I was perusing the Doctor Who archive and then suddenly I was thinking 'They meet on a Sunday' and then this happened from there...

The last paragraph was added on after I went 'okay, no, this feels unfinished' So yeah, enjoy.

I take no responsibility for feels.

They meet on a Sunday, and it's nice, it's quiet, they talk and it's okay. Monday brings the rain, and New York knows by now that rain means pain. They met on the Sunday, it was nice, it was quiet, they talked and it was okay, but the Monday brought the rain and with that came pain. The world went to hell on Monday and the only two people who knew why can't tell them. Because they met on the Sunday, it was nice, it was quiet, they talked and it was okay, but the Monday brought the rain and with that came the pain and no one understands what happened.

The seas rose and the sky darkened as the rain began to fall, thunder roared on the wind and the lightning struck randomly, and all around the world, no one knew what was happening. The gods clashed in the middle of a busy New York street, but something was different this time, somehow it was clear that they weren't just playing at battle anymore, the Avengers kept themselves out of the way, only stepping in to protect the civilians if the need arose.

Mjolnir soared through the air, smashed into a golden sceptre and crashed to the ground, leaving a giant crater where it landed; the sceptre vanished as if it had never existed in the first place. Knives flew through the air, slicing through anything that got between them and their target. Great clumps of ice littered the streets, and crushed buildings, while the lightning struck and burned anything it could, and for all the intensity of the rain it could not put out those fires. New York was burning, and it was freezing just as fast. The gods took no notice.

Loki, blue skinned, red eyed and dressed all in green and black and gold, hatred rolled off of him in waves, strengthening his already potent powers, any blows he landed blackened Thor's skin with frost-bite and any cuts refused to cease bleeding. Thor, white skinned, blue eyed and dressed all in black and red and silver, rage surrounded him in sparks, strengthening his already potent powers, any blows landed blackened Loki's blue skin with burns and any bones broken refused to heal with magical assistance.

They contrasted in all that they were, Loki's cold colours to Thor's warm, Loki's green and blue to Thor's red, Loki's black hair to Thor's golden, Thor's red and blue to Loki's green. Loki's frost to Thor's lightning, Loki's whispered words to Thor's thunder, Thor's Æsir blood to Loki's Jotun, Thor's heart to Loki's head. They clashed and were blurs of colour in the street while the world around them burned and froze and burned and froze. They clashed and were blurs of colour in the street while they burned and froze each other.

And in the end neither of them won, they were raised together, they played together, they fought together and in the end they died together too, Thor with his heart in Loki's hand and Loki's arm through his chest, and Loki with Thor's hand on his chest and a bolt of lightning in his heart. And just like that it was over, the seas retreated, the storm broke and the sun shone in the sky, and all anyone wanted to know was why.

Because they met on the Sunday, it was nice, it was quiet, they talked and it was okay, but the Monday brought the rain which in turn brought pain, and no one knows what happened, because the Sunday seemed so perfect, why did it turn to hell on the Monday? And why did they let it?

They meet in Valhalla on a Tuesday, it's nice, it's quiet, they talk and it's okay, they eat the food and forget they broke each other's hearts. Odin grows to hate Midgard, the realm that took not one but both of his sons from him, but it does not do for a king to hate, he'll see them again, before the end, after all.

A/N: I will be writing the events of the Sunday, so be patient for that, if it's not up later tonight then it should be over the next few days. And I hope you realize the whole point of the Sunday and Monday thing was that Sunday was the day they gave to their love, where they forgot all their grievances and just got to be brothers. They laughed and teased and didn't think about the Monday. And then Monday was the day they gave to their hate, where they forgot all the good things and were enemies right down to their core. A day for love. A day for hate. Before the end.