[A/N Sorry for taking so long, folks. Here is the first chapter of a brand new story, resolving cliffhangers from the last one and proceeding with a fresh plot to hopefully amuse and entertain you all. Do enjoy.]

Part 1.

My hands were shaking as I strode into the dark alleyway in which I usually went to take my fix. It was easy, quick and expensive. But money was one of the few things I didn't have a shortage of. Just some coke to get through the day after my fight with Steve. As if he knew what I was thinking, a text message of Steve made its way into my inbox. I ignored it, afraid of what it might say, and continued walking.

Just as soon as I set foot on the snow-covered ground of the alley I was pressed into the wall with a hand held against my mouth to stop me from making any other sounds than some muffled protests. I started swinging my arms rapidly, kicking in all sorts of directions while wondering how the hell I could have been so ignorant as to not be alert in this kind of neighbourhood. I tried turning around to take a look at my opponent but all that I saw was white for my eyes as my neck was being squeezed by an armoured hand.

"Don´t scream, I´m not here to hurt you." The British accent struck me, and reminded me of one person, and one person only. And if his intention had been to release my throat, said intention had now been reversed because the voice created such a panic in me that all I could think of was escape, get your sorry ass out of here, Tony. Strangely enough, cooperate, do what he wants wasn´t.

Just as he was about to switch his hold on me, I stomped my elbow backwards, hitting him in the stomach successfully. He stumbled backwards and for the first time I was able to take a proper look at my offender and I indeed found myself eye to eye with Loki Laufeyson. If hearing his voice had freaked me out, seeing him there, face revealed by the helmet that had been knocked off, sent both a shiver through my spine and a wave of painful flashbacks through my mind.

"I understand that my appearance might frighten you, but I won't hurt you." He held up his hands, but all that I could see when looking at those hands were the images of him whipping me. Him throwing me against a wall. He said he wouldn't hurt me, but all that I could hear were the sneers that I wasn't good enough, that I was a failure and that someone like Steve could never love someone like me. Big man in a suit of armour. Take that away and what are you?

"No. You left. You were going to leave Steve alone. You swore." I whispered, slowly backing away, my hands scrambling for grip on a wall that my wobbling legs had not yet managed to reach.

"I just need your h-" the rest of the sentence was cut off as I fell backwards, tripping over a discarded soda bottle and falling to the ground with the last, terrible thought that I had failed to protect the only thing in the world that I really cared about.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Steve POV

"We've got to get him out of the ground!" I shouted, motioning for Clint to throw me the shovel with which we had just thrown the dirt onto Thor.

"What, jus-just because s-something moved?" He shouted back, trying to raise his voice over the loud cracks of lightning around us.

"Just give me the damn shovel. Bruce, get Jane out of here." It took Bruce a few seconds to move his eyes from the spot where Thor's hand had just reached out. The obviously freaked out professor then finally grabbed Jane by her arm and lead her out of here despite her protests. "Natasha, will you please bring my high boyfriend somewhere where he can't hurt himself or jump off a building in an imaginary iron man suit?"

"I'll see what I can do for you," She nodded, getting a hold of Tony and expertly making him come with her.

I knew that Thor being alive was impossible. But what we'd just seen had been real. And the only way to know what the hell was going on was by digging him up. Getting everybody out of here was the first priority though, because shocked bystanders were not going to help me while scandalizing the grave of the God of Thunder. I started digging frantically, Clint the only one left to keep me company during this awful task.

"Man, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, you felt his pulse. Or lack, thereof. What do you expect to find?" I shrugged off the hand that he had laid on my thoroughly soaked shoulder.

"Clint, I appreciate your concern, but if there is any chance that he is alive I'm going to find it out."

"Steve-"

"Look if you are not going to be doing anything useful, at least don't stand in my way" I sneered, hearing the unmistakeable sound of my shovel hitting the wooden casket in which we had buried him. From there on I started using my hands, trying to get a good grip on the pieces of soil despite the rain, which had turned the once solid ground into mud. Clint mumbled a series of profanities, clearly not all too eager to engage in these grave robbing activities.

"This is just dandy, Cap. Just dandy." He took the other side of the casket and together, we pulled it out of the grave. We both looked at it in shock. Not only had we just robbed a grave, but more importantly, there was a gigantic hole in the top of the casket where the wood had been penetrated by Thor's hand and arm.

"Son of a God.." Clint mumbled, quite accurately. He looked at me, waiting for instructions. I was starting to feel a little nauseous because damn, who the heck wouldn't get a shiver or two from digging up their supposedly dead friend. I shook off my jacket, using the expensive material to get a better grip on the polished wood. Using my superhuman strength, I managed to tear off the top, ignoring the nails with which the two parts had been sealed.

There he was laying. Supposedly dead but with his chest moving rapidly, heart pumping and trying to get oxygen to his vital organs. Then it stopped. I had wasted his life once, I wasn't going to waste it twice.

I had never known this before his death, but Thor had been the only one that could ever have truly understood what I was going through. He and I were equals in the sense that we had both been completely out of our element upon walking this Earth in this period of time. Where I felt stupid not being able to handle a laptop, Thor couldn't even make a cup of coffee without dummy stepping in or setting of the fire alarm.

"I'll uh, I'll find Natasha and Bruce to help you."

It looked like Clint was still trying to understand what the heck I was trying to achieve, but I had only one goal. Saving Thor's life. And this time, doing it right. I refused to fail again. I hoisted him out of his coffin, removing the armour that the team and Jane had agreed on having him wear so that I could start CPR. Working without a pair of extra hands was difficult, but I managed to accurately time exhales, inhales, and chest compressions.

"Come on." I mumbled, swiping away an odd mingle of sweat, tears and rain from my face. My hands were sore from pushing, my cheeks red from the rain that was falling on them. My knees were placed in the mud and hurting despite the softness of it. Time was ticking and the chance of Thor surviving was getting smaller. It felt like his life was slowly slipping away, out of my grasp, despite the effort I was putting in keeping him with me for once and for all.

After minutes of trying to get his heart to beat, I fell down on top of him out of exhaustion. Thor was a big, muscled man and even with my strength, producing enough of it to get press down on his ribs was tiring. In a final, desperate attempt I tried something I'd seen on a television show and used the last of my energy to deal a strong blow right where his heart was.

With a shuddering breath, Thor took in his first gulp of fresh air, sending it straight to his lungs and heart and I fell down again, hearing the beating of his heart right under my ear as I gave a little squeal in victory.