I was in New York when the fighting started.

My friends and family back in London had been excited for me as I set off for a meeting that would make or break my career. And it had gone well, they had liked my voice and my look and my acting ability and they were seriously thinking about casting me.

The next day an alien army attacked Manhattan.

I was up on the roof when it happened. My hotel was in Midtown and I had sneaked out the fire exit door and was standing on the edge, looking over the city, staring at the beam of blue light splitting the sky.

They landed behind me. I heard the snarls before I saw them.

When I turned and looked them in the eye, I made the decision not to die.

"Not today," I said firmly, as they advanced, spittle dripping from their metal jaw plates. I threw myself behind an air vent stack protruding from the roof, narrowly avoiding behind turned to ash as a blue beam shot past me. Adrenaline pumping through me, I assessed the situation: I had no weapon, and I was outnumbered. I had to get off the roof, or I was dead.

Something flew past the roof, flickering in my peripheral vision. I turned, and saw a whole stream of them as they shot by.

"Excellent. Flying quad bikes." I always made bad jokes when I was nervous. I didn't give myself time to think, I just turned and ran, bent at the waist. I felt another beam shoot over my back, hot air rushing past my clothes, then I threw myself off the roof.

I landed hard on the armoured back of one of the creatures. It shrieked and straightened itself, and I fell back onto the transport, bruised and winded. As it turned, the light glinted off its gun and I reacted without thinking, grabbing its ankles (if they had ankles) and pulling as hard as I could. Caught by surprise, the alien toppled off the transport, falling several hundred feet to the city below. I rolled over and coughed, trying to get my breath back.

The streets below were in chaos; groups of people running, cars burning, and aliens, more than I could count, more than could be believed, everywhere with their weapons and their intent to kill.

Clinging desperately to the sides of the transport, I looked up towards the front of it. There was such noise everywhere that the alien driving didn't seem to have noticed that it's companion had been replaced. I stood gingerly, then in a flash of inspiration (thanks, Mission: Impossible, 4!) I unbuckled my belt and pulled it out of my belt loops in one quick move, wrapping it around the alien's head and pulling it tight. The creature made a guttural, unearthly noise and began to claw frantically; I lost my balance and let go, falling backwards. I managed to grab the front of the console, barely avoiding plunging to my death but the alien I had been trying to choke was loosening my belt around its neck. I kicked out instinctively, catching it in the leg and it disappeared in the slipstream of the transport.

At this point I realised I was repeating "Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod," quietly, like some sort of mantra. The sound of my own voice gave me some comfort, and I dragged myself up, holding on to the front of the transport. We were still flying, but there was no guarantee that we wouldn't hit anything.

In fact we were coming to the end of the block.

"I did not survive very very improbably to die by crashing into bloody Macy's!" I yelled, standing up and grabbing the handlebars.

I've often thought that the reason things are shaped a certain way in the universe, is because it's the optimum way to be shaped. And I think this proves it. I pulled the handles of the transport hard to the right, they swivelled to the right, and we turned to the right and continued on down the block. Just like riding a bike. Not very smoothly, but at least I wasn't pulverized against Macy's.

Gods, this thing went fast. I looked up briefly and saw the alien on the transport ahead looking back at me. I'm no expert on the body language of other species, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't too thrilled.

I started pushing random buttons and pulling random levers.

"Come on, come on, there has to be some sort of gun here?!" I pushed something and the transport dipped just as the alien on the transport in front sent a blue bolt at my head. It made a whooshing noise as it passed through the air above me.

I started to laugh hysterically.

"I am noooot dead, not not dead," I sang under my breath. "How very unlikely, that I'm not dead."

I pushed something else and my transport fired a bolt of blue heat, hitting a decorative fountain in the square below, which promptly exploded. A shard of marble grazed my cheek but I barely felt it, too thrilled to have found the weapon on my transport.

I pulled up hard on the handles and the transport shot up faster than I was expecting; it was lucky I was holding on as my feet briefly left the floor.

"Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck," I managed to level the transport out and accidentally leaned on the gun. The bolt hit the first transport ahead of me, and it exploded in a fireball. I stared, open-mouthed. I hit something. Something useful! I mean…. They were attacking. And I was…. Defending. Another dose of adrenaline rushed through me and I gripped my transfer more firmly.

"Alright, bitches, Imma take you out," I muttered, angling the transport higher and hitting my gun button furiously. Another pair of aliens died in fireworks, and I smiled.

xXx

Hawkeye turned, shooting another arrow behind him and ignoring the resulting fireball as the aliens died screaming.

The strange transport shuddered past him again, and he narrowed his eyes before making the decision.

"Uh, guys? I have a rogue transport…. There's a – well, a civilian female appears to have commandeered it and while she's a bit of a liability –" he ducked as one of her wild shots went over his head – "she's not doing too badly at helping. Anyone know who I'm talking about?"

The portal above their heads seemed to open wider at that moment, and two huge fish-like metal creatures slipped through, grotesque bodies undulating down into Manhattan. Hordes of aliens leapt off them, sliding down the buildings to the streets below.

"Liiiiitle bit busy right now Legolas," came Stark's voice in his ear. "See the Mexican wave up there?"

Some time later, Hawk landed on the ground, the building he had been on in flames, to find that the Hulk had smashed in the head of one of the, er, Mexican waves.

"Where's the other one?" he asked urgently, pulling arrows out of dead Chitauri and sliding them back into his quiver.

"Uhh…." Natasha pointed upward, and they all turned to look.

xXx

I banked as best I could, and gulped as I saw what awaited me around the corner. A huge, undulating metal monster at the other end of the block, its giant tail taking out several floors of office building.

Oddly, there were no other aliens on this block. There was nobody at all. It was just it and me. It turned, and…. Saw me. A growl emanated from its belly. I gulped, and my legs felt weak.

The transport was still moving forward.

I looked at the wreck of the city around me, the hordes still pouring from the hole in the sky, the dead and dying and bleeding scattered on the streets.

I knew what I had to do.

I just really, really didn't want to do it.

But what was the point otherwise? What was the point of any of it? I had come this far, through luck and …. And what? More luck. Chemicals - adrenaline. Quick reactions I had inherited from my mother (lord knows my father couldn't even catch). I was alive. And I was egotistical enough to want to make a difference.

I pushed on the front of the transport, angling it higher, and sped up.

The beast followed, flying higher.

I breathed in, out, leaned forward into the handles, and screamed into the wind.

The beast roared in response, mouth opening wide. The transport headed straight for its open maw, and at the last possible second I threw myself off it and as far to the side as I could.

As I fell, I saw the transport hit the back of it's throat and explode, triggering a chain reaction down the body of the creature.

I had done it.

I turned, and watched the city come closer. Death waved at me, and I waved back. Then it winked, and disappeared. I frowned, confused.

I hit the very edge of the building, and felt my body crack around the impact in a moment of intense pain, then I slipped off the side.

My grasping hands caught a rusted remnant of the fire escape, and held on.

xXx

He landed lightly, catlike on his feet, and sauntered over to the side of the building. Her eyes were closed and she didn't see him peering down at her.

"Still alive, then," he said nonchalantly, sitting on the edge and swinging his leather-clad legs over the side.

She opened her eyes with difficulty, and shifted her hands a little on the rusted railing.

"Maybe. I think I'm broken," she groaned. Her eyes met his, and a jolt went through him. Her eyes were big and blue, not the light, glazed blue of his minions but a dark, pure blue, with flecks of gold. They were full of pain.

Without even thinking about it he reached down and pulled her up next to him. She cried out in pain, lying slumped on the concrete. A thin trickle of blood ran down over her cheekbone from the shallow cut on her temple.

He pulled his hand away from her flesh and leapt up in sudden disgust.

She stared up at him.

"You do realise you're in full battle armour – at least I'm assuming your bug hat counts as battle armour," she said weakly. "Whose side are you on exactly?"

Loki stared at her. He couldn't think what came over him – he hadn't consciously decided to save her. She was a lowly human. He had been watching her throughout the battle, getting some laughs at her plight, and when she had crashed into the building he had followed her, intending to amuse himself with her a little before killing her horribly for helping to take out his army…. Wait, bug hat?!

"You have courage, mortal, I'll give you that," he said, nudging her in the ribs with his boot. She moaned and curled inward around herself.

"Such mixed messages," she breathed, closing her eyes. "Did you save me just to kill me?"

"You managed to cause quite a bit of trouble for a such a little girl," he said coldly, digging his toe further into her side.

She cried out in pain.

"Did I fuck things up for you?" she asked, panting as she looked up at him. "I'm getting the feeling you were the instigator of all this. Look what I did to your baby." She gestured at the ruptured body of the metal monster, lying in pieces over the roof.

His eyes narrowed, and he produced a knife.

"I'm going to slide this blade into your heart, and watch the light fade from your eyes," he snarled.

To his surprise, she laughed, heaving herself to her knees, then her feet on shaky legs.

"After the day I've had, that sounds unnecessarily drawn-out. I'd rather throw myself off this building." She backed up on wobbly legs, and turned, ready to jump.

He looked up, the knife forgotten in his hands.

"Such a long way down," she said hesitantly, peering over the edge. His eyes swept down her frame, noting the injuries – blood on her face from a long shallow cut, broken ribs, broken wrist, twisted ligaments – her knee was dangling, she was balancing on one leg.

"But if I have to die, I'd rather it was my choice than yours," she said to him calmly, looking back and into his eyes.

He stared at her in shock. She was seriously going to do it. Her eyes were closed, she had spread her arms, she was leaning forward into thin air – before he knew what he was about he had teleported back to the middle of the roof, and she was in his arms. She was surprisingly light, even for a god to bear. Her eyes opened, and she stared into his face.

xXx

The helmeted man stared back into my eyes with the strangest expression on his face, as if he were torn between relief and anger. Then he dropped me. I heard another crunch as my broken body hit the ground, and I groaned in pain.

He was tall, and he had been carrying me bridal-style. It was quite far to fall.

The next I knew he was leaning over me, his hands holding hard to my upper arms, his face tight with rage.

"You pathetic humans! You think you have free will. You think you can decide your fate, choose when to die? You have no idea."

He put his hand over my mouth and said fiercely, "Binda, þegja, letta syna."

It was not a language I recognised, but I soon realised what he had done when he removed his hand from me and I tried to speak. No words came out. I tried again, and went to grasp my throat with my uninjured hand, a natural reaction. My hand was not there. I could feel it, but it was…. Invisible. I looked down. There was nothing. I was completely invisible. I could feel the warm blood running down the side of my face. I could feel my legs against the cold concrete roof. But I could not be seen.

"How does your freedom taste now, daughter of Midgard?" he sneered down at me. "I have turned you invisible to most, silenced you to all, and bound you to me until I see fit to turn you loose."

I could only gape at him, wide-eyed. My brain had done very well that day, it had accepted everything that had happened and reacted accordingly in congruence with my apparently impressive self-preservation instincts, but at this I felt it throw up its hands and say, "Nope, I'm done for the day, I'm going to bed."

It was either that, or the blood loss that made me pass out.

xXx

Loki watched the spark of consciousness leave her eyes, and laughed quietly to himself. This was going to be fun. He stood to his full height, and surveyed his soon-to-be-kingdom. It was time to head back to Stark Tower. He snagged a passing transport and swung it around, heading uptown.