#timelord

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Your world was ending.

Everything was on fire. Your friends and family and strangers you barely knew screamed around you as bombs rained down like hail. You watched as your planet, Teloth, burned. 

You still didn’t know who was attacking your planet. Maybe you never would.You were the only Telothian to make it onto the ship. It took you centuries to accept that.

–

Your ship drifted endlessly through the cosmos. In the thousand-or-so years you’d been drifting in the void of space, you’d observed countless civilizations, star systems, and planets. You’d watched many of them be destroyed. Early in your wandering, you observed a planet you’d learned was called Earth, or Terra, by different civilizations. You’d drifted around it for a century or so, watching at least three different empires and groups fall. You’d soon grown tired of watching all those people fight each other, kill each other, for some end goal that would ultimately be useless and forgotten in a hundred years. So you’d powered up your ship, and light-jumped to the next few solar systems. After 900 years, you found your ship drifting back to it. You were almost out of fuel - something you were certain couldn’t be possible with your ship, but apparently it was. The gravitational pull of earth was calling you back. There was nothing you could do to stop it. The fuel had gone out after you’d made one last light-jump, to see Terra again. You’d made it within a light-year of Terra, and then you’d run out of it. Now, you were hurtling towards a random field in the middle of a place you’d soon learn was called New York. You were panicking, trying to guide the ship into something of a stable landing, but your landing gear wouldn’t deploy, and you couldn’t get the ship to steer properly. You were in a complete tailspin. And the only thing you could do was brace for impact. The ship hit the ground with the force of a freight train, and your head slammed into the seat. Glass shattered around you, metal groaned, and you felt agony scream through your body.

You heard screaming, and it took you a second to recognize it as your own. The world faded into blackness. –

“What the fuck is he?”“I dunno, some kind of alien from a ship that just… crashed here. Outside of our compound.”“We’ll get Stark on that ship. He can figure it out.”

“Banner’s coming over - get out of the way!”– 

When your eyes opened again, you were greeted by unreasonably harsh lights and absolute agony. You tried to move, to shift your arm, but you were greeted by tight restraints keeping you in place. That, and the flash of extra pain from the movement. You whimpered, and gave a weak attempt to sit up.

You felt a hand press in the center of your chest, gently pressing you back into what you were laying on. It was.. soft. Softer than anything you’d felt in centuries. You couldn’t help but let your head loll back into the comfort beneath you. You felt like you were floating on a cloud. “Hey. Hey. Can you hear me?” Someone said, and your eyes flickered in response. You couldn’t make yourself reopen them - not with the cruelty of the light above you. You whimpered again instead. “Shh, shh, you’re okay. You’re going to be fine.” The voice said, and you felt a hand press into your shoulder, fingers feeling over bone. It made you flinch, and then cry out from the utter agony. You were barely able to pick out the sound of footsteps around you, barely able to pick up the voice of whoever was talking to you. “Up his morphine dose. He.. shouldn’t even be awake right now.”

You felt a cool sensation spread through your veins, and you felt the agony dissipate slightly, but not enough. You whimpered again. The sensation returned, and this time it was enough to put you back to sleep. —

It took another week for you to open your eyes again. This time, you were in considerably less pain, and the lights were dimmed. You could actually twitch your fingers without crying. You tilted your head slightly, eyes drifting around the room that surrounded you. Your world still spun here and there, but it wasn’t too frequent. You looked at the white, sterile surroundings. You could see something that you recognized as a one-way mirror, and you couldn’t help but wonder who was on the other side of it. The door to your left opened unexpectedly - usually you would’ve been able to sense that before it happened. To prepare accordingly. You stared as a man walked inside, quietly shutting the door behind him. He looked surprised to see you awake. Instead of speaking, the man - who had black hair, some noticeable stubble, and gentle but tired brown eyes - sat down in a chair near the edge of your.. cot? You were pretty sure it was a cot, but you hadn’t really been able to move much.

The man reached out to touch you, to press his fingers into your wrist, when you pulled back with a shudder. He stopped, and let his hand fall back to his side. Finally, the man spoke. “You’re awake,” he said, and you gave a weak nod in reply. You were still disoriented as all hell, and had no idea where you were, but you didn’t have the energy to care.

“Can you speak?” he asked, and, honestly, you weren’t sure you could, but you figured it couldn’t hurt to try. “Y-ye..” Your voice stuttered and cracked and broke, the strangled half-syllable barely making it past your lips. You winced at the feeling of your throat - cracked, dry, and broken.

The man winced at the sound of it, and you caught sight of his nametag as he turned to reach for something. His nametag read “Dr. Bruce Banner”. The name was unfamiliar to you, so you tucked it into the back of your mind for future reference.

The man - Bruce - turned back to you, holding what looked like a paper cup with a blue straw in it. He held the straw to your lips and gently told you to drink. You did.

It felt like heaven against your throat, and you drank greedily. Bruce had to pull the cup away from you, and you made a sound of complaint when he did. “Sorry,” he said gently, setting the cup on a side table. “You.. drank all of it.”

You just grunted in response, and turned back towards the softness of the sheets underneath you. The comfort these sheets brought, even if they were impersonal, was immeasurable.

“Can you remember anything?” Bruce asked, his eyes drifting to the monitors beside you. You hadn’t yet paid any attention to the monitors, and you followed his gaze. The technology was mildly familiar - like something you’d have seen on Teloth. 

You didn’t answer his question right away, and it took a second for your memories to really return.

Screaming. Your voice. The impact..You nodded once, and Bruce gave a relieved sigh. “Good. that’s.. That’s really good. Can you tell me your name?” You turned your eyes towards his tired, but kind brown ones. “I-I..” you paused, attempting and failing to clear your throat. “I’m.. y/n.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bruce said, and you caught his brows furrowing just slightly, a flicker of something like concern or confusion crossing his face. You wondered if he’d heard your name before, but you knew it wasn’t likely.

“Where are you from?” He asked next, and you responded with the name of your home planet - Teloth. “Where’s that?” He questioned.

You didn’t have the energy to explain. Exhaustion was beginning to creep up on you, and Bruce seemed to be noticing. You fought to keep your eyes open - a useless fight, really - but it was like fighting a meteor with a stick.