It was a sunny day in Central Park. I tried to get out there every weekend and read a book. I never got enough sun, being a college student. I was always studying or writing.
I was used to it being loud, seeing as this was New York City, so I almost didn't look up when I heard shouting. This was different, though. It was more frantic. When I looked up, I saw why. There was a man with dark hair and strange clothes collapsed on the ground a few feet in front of me. I hadn't seen him walk there.
"How? He just appeared out of nowhere!" A woman nearby was shouting.
"Ma'am, calm down," I gestured for her to be quiet and rolled the man over. He was covered in blood. The woman grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me away.
"Don't you recognize him?! He's that man, that alien, that just attacked us! Get away from him!"
"He's hurt!" I pulled my arm away when she didn't let go. "I don't care who he is! He's almost dead!"
The woman took off, casting terrified glances back at him. The dark haired man stirred as I knelt beside him, about to take his pulse. "Okay, I'm taking you to a hospital." I pulled one of his arms around my shoulders as gently as I could, and got the rest of him on the shoulders. He felt far too light.
"No, no hospital," he murmured, barely audible.
"You need help. I don't want to state the obvious, but you're hurt bad."
"They will find me there. Please."
I glanced back at him. It was easy enough, trekking through the now cleared park. I knew I wouldn't trip. "Who will find you?" His eyes were finally open, and I could see they were a bright jade green. They closed and he shook his head as I asked. "Fine then, no hospital"
I changed course and made my way to my apartment instead of the hospital. He was lucky I could be a klutz and kept a huge first aid kit in there.
I laid him on the small sofa as fast and gentle as I could. If I had to hold him much longer, I think I would have dropped him and/or collapsed myself. He was much paler than he was in the park and his face was in a grimace.
I dug the first aid kit out, grabbed a hand towel, and filled a large bowl with warm water before I tried to see his injuries. The problem was, I couldn't figure out how to take off his clothes. They seemed to be a form of armor. "Awkward question, but how do you take off your clothes? I need to see where the blood is coming from."
The effort he needed just to point to what comes off first was immense. I didn't' ask him anything else after that. It could have killed him. I pulled off the pieces he pointed to, leaving nothing but a black T-shirt made from a soft material and black leather pants. I left the armor in a pile on the floor.
His shirt was completely soaked through with blood. He should've been dead from how much he lost. I cut the shirt off and washed his chest and stomach. The poor guy was covered with gashes and bruises. I ran for a bigger clean towel and pressed it to him, trying to stop the bleeding.
It took forever, but the blood finally stopped seeping through. I cleaned the gashes and taped tons of gauze to his torso before laying a blanket over him.
"Are your legs injured?" I didn't want to take his pants off if I didn't have to. This was awkward enough already. All I got was a groan in response. "Yes or no?"
"No," he ground out through gritted teeth.
"Okay, good. I'll be right back." I bent down to gather everything up, but was stopped by a strong grip on my arm.
"Where are you going?" His green eyes showed a new clarity that was quickly fading.
"I'm going to put this stuff away. Oh, crap. Is your back injured?"
"Old wounds nearly healed."
"Okay, I can take a look at those later. Do you want anything to drink?"
"Water would be lovely." The grip fell from my arm and his eyes closed once more.
I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. As I was about ot leave the room I asked, "What's your name, anyway?"
"Loki."
AN: This is my first fanfiction. I promise that if you thought this was kinda boring, it gets way more exicting later on. Like within the next two chapters later on. Reviews would be welcome.