Learning to Walk Again

DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything. Marvel owns Thor and the BBC owns Doctor Who. The title comes from "Walk" by the Foo Fighters, which is also the song that played at the end of Thor.

A.N.: Ah. Yes. I know I said I would work on my other story, but this popped into my head. And after this past…few years, really, I figure that any inspiration is a good sign. So. I'll just leave this here.

This is set at the end of the Thor movie, and before the Avengers. For Doctor Who, this is set after The Angels Take Manhattan, but before The Snowmen. So it's going to be AU from there, though I might incorporate elements from the Avengers and The Snowmen episode of Doctor Who.

Summary: A Doctor in want of a Companion is a sad creature. The universe decides to throw a god at him. That…may not be the best decision the universe ever made.

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"You keep alive a moment at a time
But still inside a whisper to a riot
To sacrifice but knowing to survive
The first decline another state of mind
I'm on my knees, I'm praying for a sign"

- "Walk" by Foo Fighters

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CH. 1: Falling

"No, Loki."

With those quiet words, his last desperate appeal was crushed. And he knew there was no hope for him left. No way to repair what had been done.

He was not worthy.

He would not ever be worthy.

He looked into his so-called father's eyes and felt the shattered pieces of his heart harden, like shards of glass, and in that very moment, he made a decision.

Staring into Odin's eyes, Loki let go.

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Silence.

Drifting in the silence.

The Doctor sat on the floor of the TARDIS, legs splayed, back to the console, bow tie in a rumbled mess on the floor. He was utterly still.

Even the TARDIS did not make a sound. She just drifted through the Vortex silently, with no destination in mind, no next adventure around the corner.

The Mad Man and his Box were grieving. Not for a death, but there were many. Yet, a loss is a loss, and they have lost many.

Somewhere out there, the Williams were alive. Somewhere, they quite possibly were happy. The Doctor was glad they were alive.

He still grieved.

For Amelia Pond, the Girl Who Waited, who saved space whales and fought pirates and still had a Scottish accent when her world was English. She would never again set foot into the TARDIS, make fun of his bow tie, or flirt with Van Gogh.

For Rory Williams, the Centurion Who Waited, who fought alien fish with a broom and punched Hitler in the face and died for love time and time again. He would never again help the Doctor fix the TARDIS, ride dinosaurs on a spaceship, or distract an alien gunman.

And maybe they were happy. The Doctor hoped they had found their happily ever after, but he dearly missed them.

And he was so, so tired.

Maybe it was time to retire. Time to settle down somewhere….a cloud perhaps. Maybe it was time for the Doctor to take off the bowtie and retire. And not…get involved anymore. He didn't think he could bring himself to lose any more people. And that's what would happen if he got involved. If he…cared.

Because eventually, everyone leaves.

And he is alone once more. Just him and his magic box.

And the silence.

….or not.

Suddenly the klaxons started blaring, coming from everywhere at once. The Doctor froze, his eyes going comically wide, and then he was up.

He dashed around and grabbed the monitor with both hands, almost smashing his nose against the screen. Something…something else was in the Vortex with him! Impossible! And…it was heading straight for him. They were on a direct collision course.

Spinning around the console, pressing buttons with anything free, his hands, a foot here or there, a hammer. The alarms blared through the console room, and he could feel the TARDIS' panic match his own.

It was too late. He could not change his course drastically enough in time. Frustrated, he grabbed the monitor again, mumbling, but it could not tell him what was about to crash into him, only that it was small.

Still mumbling, he ran to the TARDIS doors and pulled them open, squinting into the Vortex. The object was rapidly approaching and appeared to be…a person? No, impossible! A person couldn't survive….could they?

The Doctor, mostly running on confusion and curiosity now, made the instinctive decision to catch whoever was out there.

And so he wedged both doors open and dashed back to the console, trying to keep the TARDIS as steady as possible and facing in the same direction. The creature was closer, closer, closer, and….there!

They flew through the opened doors and landed hard on the floor, rolling to a stop just before the ramp. The Doctor ran, jumping over said person, and quickly closed the doors, so said person could not roll right back out.

He then turned around and cautiously approached the being. He crouched down by the person's side and tentatively checked its breathing and pulse. Or, where he thought it would have a pulse and if it needed to breathe at all. Luckily for him, he found both quickly (same spots as a human, really) and was relieved that whoever they were, they were alive. Though unconscious. And the Doctor was very, very curious to know what this person was, that could survive the Vortex unsheltered.

He examined the creature's features. Tall. Appears to be a young white male. One head, two arms, two legs, one heart. Looks…rather human, actually, though no human could survive what he did. And his clothes were rather odd. Armour and leather? That can't be comfortable. He started looking through the alien clothing and almost stabbed himself in the hand. He pulled out a small, but wicked looking knife. Hm. He thoroughly and methodically searched the being and ended up with a small pile of deadly throwing knives.

The Doctor frowned. The armour and the knives…whoever they were, they were ready for battle. Or had been in a battle. He decided to leave the armour alone for now, but wanted to hide the knives. Just on the chance that the being was less than friendly. He carefully picked them up and carried them up the stairs and out of the console room.

When he came back, he yelped in surprise when startling green eyes met his. The being sat up quickly, startled and a bit panicked, but winced, showing that he was probably injured.

A pale had reached up to clutch his head and the Doctor couldn't hold it in any longer. He practically raced down the stairs and only stopped at the ramp when he saw the movement cause the being to tense up. It still didn't stop him from blurting out, "Who are you?!"

The being with the armour and sharp green eyes answered him in a rasping voice. "I am Loki-" He paused, and then seemed to make up his mind about something. "Just Loki."

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Here it is. The first chapter. Let us see if I can update this one faster than my other one. Sorry it's so short, but I figure short is better than nothing at all.