Disclaimer: I don't own Loki. In fact, I wish I didn't own this scene, either...

AN: The idea behind this has been bugging me forever. Loki and Mayura, dangling form a bridge. Dunno why. But I had to do it. I may post the second part of this (I hate it to death, though) but I may not. I want to get your opinion.

888888888888888888888888888888

He tried not to look down—when necessary, he glanced at her, but only her eyes. Just to make sure she was still holding on.

"Everything's going to be okay," he growled through gritted teeth, though he wasn't sure how. E-chan wasn't anywhere near, nor were Yamino or Fenrir. Not even her father. And here he was, clinging to the edge of the bridge with one hand, while the other clutched Mayura's wrists helplessly. It was impossible to climb up. "Just…grab my waist, okay?"

No response.
"Grab it, Mayura!" in his urgency, he glanced down again, and this time he forgot to lock his attention elsewhere. He saw her face—pale as a sheet, pale as death, her grip on his hand nearly limp and numb. And behind her, the roaring, rushing river, swollen and hungry and ready to swallow them both forever. He felt the color drain from his face.

"Just…hang on…" he managed to say, though his voice lost too much of its command. He wasn't even sure whom the order was for. The steel and concrete of the bridge bit into his hands, and he realized too suddenly that he was shaking.

"…Loki?" he heard a soft, frightened voice say. Again he forced himself to look down. Her face was still white, but recognition had finally sparked in her eyes. "It's…it's really you, isn't it?" He forced his eyes back up. The dark, friendless sky was more welcome than the surging water below him.

"Yes, it's me," he said, his adult voice likely holding an alien amount of depth to her ears. "Are you okay?" Slowly, he could feel her grip tighten on his as she began to crawl from her state of shock. And no wonder—the fall alone would have been enough to frighten most people to death, let alone seeing her 'little friend' age ten years in an instant. It wasn't as though he'd had a choice. His child's body didn't have the strength to pull her back to safety…though his larger form hadn't been much more of a help. The transformation had unbalanced him, and both of them had been left dangling helplessly over the river.

He blanched and forced his eyes on the moon. The stars. Anything but the water.

"You…you're really scared, aren't you?" Mayura asked tentatively. Pride and all else thrown aside, he nodded his head. She tightened her grip even more, though not in the same, desperate way in which he held her. "Me, too…" she murmured. "But it's going to be okay. We'll get out of this…"

Was she honestly trying to comfort him? Her voice was shaking—she must be crying—a quick glance told him he was right—and yet she was trying to comfort him.

Ah, the irony.

"Just…grab my waist," he said again, his voice calmer, his hand bringing hers closer to his stomach. She made a slight sound of affirmation, and he felt her arms wrap around his middle. His hand, now free, reached up. He dug his fingers into the concrete of the bridge, tried to pull himself up, his every muscle straining as he tried to lift their combined weight…his palms were wet. Water? Blood? Sweat? He couldn't be sure. He couldn't think at all. He was now scrambling madly, trying to regain his slipping grip.

"Loki?" Mayura squeaked from beneath him. "Loki, what's going on?"

"I've…almost…argh!" His fingers closed on gravel, and he plunged back, the ledge fleeing from his hands.

For an eternity, they fell, the night torn by two desperate cries that too quickly blended into the roar of the river.