The Avengers, special episode: Time Lord Fix-Up

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Fainting Doctor

"Now, if you can do me a favor and reach inside my pocket for my very handy sonic screwdriver and-" The sight of Natasha's free hand was a balm to sore spirits. Clint was still bent on sending the scrawny kid in the funky tweed suit strange looks, so said 'kid' was the happier of them all to bare witness to the magnificent length sufficiently motivated red hair would go. More than once he mourned his own lack of fiery locks, but oh well… almost a fourth of his companions were red haired for a reason.

He just needs his sonic screwdriver to unlock their shackles and make a spectacular exit. His insides were melting at an alarmingly fast rate now and there was only so much superior physiology could buffer before he passed out or became stupid… A Time-Lord's brain is high maintenance, the cost on oxygen of a thought alone was immeasurable though he did get a boom from his connection to the TARTDIS.

"A what?" The catty red haired woman asked with a perfectly sculpted poker face. The Doctor imagined how many rounds of poker he'd be able to win were he possessor of such skills. Whenever his face turned blank everyone one and their mother's knew he was up to something anyway.

"A sonic screwdriver" He repeated. "It should make the task of breaking out of here a lot easier" He said breezily, between gulps of deadly gas and the tickle from the low waves of radiation. He's died once from radioactive overload so he knew how that went, thank you, and didn't fancy a repeat. "It's in my pooo…cket" He looked down… No coal, no dimensional trans dimensional pockets, no sonic tool whatsoever. "Er… I left it in my other pants?"

Not understanding the brilliancy of his missing screwdriver, the group of five Avengers shook their heads – well, two of them did. The third was too busy glaring daggers at the Doctor because of a couple millennia years old feud between their species and the other was too busy mutating into a hate monster to really care. The fifth was Natasha and she was moving with the proficiency of a trained assassin in the way she skipped from shackle to shackle and undid the locks.

When she was done freeing Tony and Clint however, she took a while to study the situation. It looked fun too… a logic problem that was as deadly as it was amusing. Obviously the Doctor was still slightly offended that he featured in this puzzle… who to unlock first? If she lets Thor out, he might hurt the Doctor. If she lets Dr. Banner out, he might go Hulk on them while the others were still vulnerable. If she let the Doctor out… well, none of them really knew him or had reasons to trust him.

"Let the skinny kid out first, he looks about to keel over anyway" Tony pointed out half helpfully. It wasn't pity for the Doctor's unfortunate state, but a ruthless glint in his eyes that spoke of practicality and good usage of resource. The man was a genius that had even the ancient Time Lord impressed even with his own decree in mechanics. Ah, old school days… he could picture Tony in his old School, it was funny until the pain hit and had him cringing as if the void inside his head was tearing up again.

Thor grunted unhappily. "I would not have attacked him" The blond pointed out crossly. "Even though he is one of them, I have nothing against him personally." This had both Clint and Tony leveling the Asgardian with raised eyebrows.

Tony was the first to comment as Natasha worked on the Doctor's binds. "That's surprisingly mature. Don't suppose Reindeer Games learned something as well…?"

"Stark!" Clint hissed between his lips. Thor had this thoughtful look on his face.

The Doctor only watched, wondering what they were talking about. When the red haired spy finished picking the lock holding him, she had to hold onto his body since he toppled to the ground bonelessly. "Hey… Are you alright?" She asked, stumbling a bit under his weight. She was strong for a woman – he could feel her muscles bulging underneath his armpits. It was an awkward position until she lowered him to the ground.

"Oh dear…" He coughed roughly. Looking at his hands, he shook his head. "Geronimo"… His hands were red with blood and he was passing out.

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