Chapter 1
It was time to get up. He had countless others to tend to, orders to give, a ship to run. The hours to come promised no rest and little peace, and prolonging the inevitable would do nothing to speed its conclusion. To take even two more minutes was to delay the day’s end.
“You know, I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear this, but you should probably take a break.”
An involuntary jerk that Loki was unable to stop awoke the dormant throbbing at the back of his skull. Normally he did not startle easily, making it his business to be aware of his immediate surroundings and the people occupying them. That the owner of the voice could take him unawares spoke more to his condition than Loki was quite prepared to acknowledge.
“And you should be careful who you creep up on ,” he said
Straightening only enough to allow him to turn his head. Bruce raised both palms in a placating gesture, but
did not take even a single step back in retreat.
Bruce indicated Thor’s form with his chin. “How’s he doing?”
Loki dragged a hand down his face before replying. “the same as the others. Delusional. Generally insufferable. If I didn’t think such a scheme beyond his mind, I’d swear he was putting it on just to spite me teach me a lesson for faking my death.”
Bruce looked back at him oddly and was curiously gentle when he said, “Thor’s strong. It’s going to take more than this to keep him down.”
. “Yes. He will be fine
“Harder to watch when it’s him though, right?”
This was not an avenue of conversation Loki was prepared to wander so casually down. And certainly not with Bruce of all people — a relative stranger who would have counted himself among Loki’s enemies not so long ago. It was a clumsy attempt to find common ground at best, an emotionally manipulative gambit to invite Loki to confide sensitive information at worst. And if there was anything Loki was confident about, it was the potential for sentiment to be turned against one’s best interests.
“And what exactly are you doing for him, hmm? You would call yourself a healer and yet you could hardly be more ineffective. Whether Thor lives or dies it will be no thanks to you.”
“Wow,” Bruce says
“That was low, even for you.”
Loki produced a humourless smile. “Low or not, it was on the mark.”
“Uh huh. Look, if you didn’t want to answer the question, you could have just said so. Or better yet said nothing at all.”
“And perhaps you should refrain from passing comment on things you clearly know nothing about.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No? Tell me, just how long have you been acquainted with my brother, exactly? Or with me, for that matter? You are overfamiliar.”
,” Bruce agreed graciously, angling his head in apology, “you’re right. It’s none of my business.”
Several moments of strained silence passed before Bruce felt it appropriate to air his opinions once more. “I really do think he’s going to be okay, though. The progression of his symptoms aren’t throwing up anything I think we need to be too worried about. We’ve just got to wait this thing out.”
“Such confidence. What is it you keep telling me, over and over?” Loki says “‘I’m not that kind of doctor.’”
“You’re right. I’m not. But I do have some experience, and right now I’m the best you’ve got.”
“Comforting.”
Bruce returned a hard look that said he was not in the least bit intimidated by Loki or his sneer. He remained controlled as he spoke in his own defence. “What I’m doing is exactly that, actually. Comforting people. Giving them hope. Because that’s exactly what they need right now, even if I can’t give them much more than that.”
Loki snorted. “What they need are practical solutions, not to be coddled and well-wished. You waste your time talking about their feelings when it would be better spent actually achieving something.”
“Oh for crying out— I’m just trying my best here. But if you don’t want my help that’s fine.” “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” he continued, apparently oblivious to his own words. “Why can’t you just let other people help you like a normal person? Would it kill you to not be an asshole for two minutes?”
Loki rose from his seat to loom over the man. Doing so had never failed to have the desired effect before now. “ be careful how you speak about me Midgardian.”
“Oh come on,” Bruce said, impatient and prepared to voice it. “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”
Loki sniffed, moving to leave. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes you do. Acting like you don’t give a shit. Like nobody matters to you. We both know you’re full of crap, so why bother? Aren’t you tired of this game? ‘Cause I sure—”
“That’s enough,” Loki snapped, cutting the man off before he could build up any more momentum.
Bruce fell silent, If Bruce hadn’t stepped to the side in time Loki would have clipped his shoulder as he marched from the room.
It would appear Loki’s unique ancestry provided some immunity from the illness sweeping the ship. It seemed Bruce was also to remain unaffected, though Loki suspected this was by virtue of the green beast’s robust nature rather than the plucky resilience common to most humans.
They obviously had that in common, the two of them. The unlooked-for protection of what they believe a monster’s blood.
The afflicted were however many, and despite bruces every effort, Bruce was wilting quickly with exhaustion. With only a mortal’s stamina and the sick in the hundreds, much of the burden of care fell to Loki and those few yet to succumb entirely to the worst of the illness.
Loki would die before he’d admit it, but as the weeks stretched on and his reserves of patience diminished, he was beginning to fear that he may not be quite up to the task. And very soon, he expected he’d be left as the sole caretaker of this floating plague-carrier. Pushing aside the panic that thought threatened to stir. Maybe this was his punishment for faking his death and pretending to be Odin that he would finally reunite with Thor and they would finally get on better just for him to die.
“Is he always like this?” Bruce asked the other remaining occupant of the room, but Thor’s slightly laboured breathing was the only response he received.
He sighed.
Checking Thor’s vitals with almost automatic efficiency — a combination of habit, necessity and more recent practice than he would have liked — Bruce reassured himself that what he’d told Loki was the truth. Thor was resting as comfortably as could reasonably be expected at this stage in his illness. With any luck he would soon begin to regain some lucidity. Perhaps not long after that Loki would be in a better mood.
Satisfied that there was little more he could do for the moment, Bruce left instructions with the bay’s shift lead and went in search of a meal. By his calculations he’d been awake for at least 24 hours now, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He suspected worse of Loki, but he knew better than to talk about that subject again, for the time being at least.
There would be other opportunities. The way things were going, he anticipated more days like this to come, and for things to get worse before they got better.
The Valkyrie had been the first to fall sick. Within a day of the first symptoms manifesting their very few medical facilities were overwhelmed, and Bruce estimated that within a week the sick were in the hundreds.
Asgardians were robust, it was true, but they were ill-equipped and almost painfully inexperienced when it came to dealing with the sick. Apparently sickness was rare in a society of long-lived beings, and to encounter a pathogen they could not immediately identify and treat was unheard of.
With the cruelty of disease, the elders and children were most susceptible.
It had struck down first Valkyrie, then Heimdall, and now Thor himself. And now it was leaving more orphans in its wake.
Losing people was without question the hardest. Loki took it hard when this happened, becoming all the more brusque and ill-tempered for every life lost. Bruce was well aware he offered an easy target for Loki’s despair, but that did not necessarily make it any easier to bear. The irony was that Bruce genuinely believed Loki simply forgot just who he was talking to when he tested Bruce’s patience; the intention was simply to frighten Bruce away, not push Hulk’s buttons.
It was clearly just a part of who Loki was. He responded badly to pressure and had an alarmingly underdeveloped skill set when it came to dealing with stress. For someone who could be very annoying or rude at times, he was also deeply insecure about himself and about his own ability to lead. It was as though he expected criticism on everything he did.
Despite all that, Bruce could hardly fault the guy for his frustration. In truth there was little Bruce could do beyond offering the most basic of care for the many patients overwhelming the makeshift infirmary he had tried to pull together. Hulk, for all his faults, had taken a back seat voluntarily.
The Statesman was not equipped with anything even approaching a proper medical bay, and what few supplies the fleeing peoples of Asgard had brought on board were swiftly running out. Loki hadn’t quite scoffed at Bruce’s attempt to fashion IVs and sterile needles from what materials he could find, but it was clear he thought the procedure primitive and what limited medical guidance Bruce could provide to be laughably basic. The drips went some way towards keeping some of the most critical patients hydrated at least, and for that Bruce earned some grudging approval from Loki.
And Bruce at least had some entry-level understanding of triage, not to mention directing a team of assistants.
Fluids were top of the list and kept most of Bruce’s staff of volunteers busy. Keeping temperatures manageable and patients comfortable came a close second.
Loki, seemingly content to leave the mopping of brows and all-night vigils to others, took on an administrative role that Bruce was pleased to discover he was pretty good at. Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The allocation of duties, the rationing, the day-to-day running of the ship, the mediation of conflict and the forward planning required to keep supplies circulating — all of that seemed to happen as if by magic, and not the literal kind Bruce knew Loki was capable of. Together they made a good team, partly because they also stayed out of each other’s way.
Bruce devoted much of his time to cataloging symptoms, improving upon his chances of making an earlier diagnosis, and establishing a quarantine procedure that would help slow the almost inevitable spread of the illness throughout the entire ship.
But spread it did. Currently there were more people out of commission than there were healthy, and for those who survived the most dangerous first few days, recovery was slow.
A cramp of hunger broke Bruce from his reverie and reminded him of his current goal. One thing at a time, that was the key. And at least this was a problem he could easily solve.
Loki sat down in a chair and tried to heal some people he managed to heal a couple people in one of the rooms enough so they wouldn’t die but not completely heal them
He must have stood too quickly because his vision crowded in for a moment and he had to throw out a hand to catch himself on the chair he’d just vacated. He breathed slowly and the feeling passed. Perhaps he was overstretching himself just a tad. he knew that he had no hope of healing many people.
He resolved to go in search of water and perhaps something slightly more substantial. But when he turned his steps immediately faltered.
Bruce walked up the corridor from just behind Loki he had just been in the room that loki had left he had entered just after Loki left.
“That was a nice thing you did healing those two people even if it was only a little bit.”
“It was nothing just a bit of magic”
“ you still help them and probably save their life’s .”
“ well it’s only two I can’t save them all“
Bruce glanced up at him then,
“At least you’re trying to save as many as you can”
“ how much magic does it take to heal them?”
“ not that much ”
“I think you’re lying to me I think it takes a lot that’s why you’ve been so tired these last couple of days because you’re trying to heal as many as possible but you can’t heal all of them and you can’t heal them properly”
“I often see you around. Out late. Thought maybe you were something of a night owl.”
Loki frowned.
“Then I started paying more attention. You’re working through the day too.”
“There is much to be done, and in case you haven’t noticed, few of us left to do it.”
“How many can you heal ?” Bruce asked, “ it’s not many is it your exhausted your your magic isn’t powerful enough to heal all of them ?”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,”
“Loki…”
“It is the very least I can do.” The words spilled out before he could stop them, “It is all I can do. I have destroyed the only home I have ever known and now I am cursed to watch its remnants crumble between my fingers.”
“Thor told you to let surtur lose it was the only way to destroy hello and save the nine relems”
. He rose to leave — to flee, again, coward that he was — and snatched his arm swiftly from Bruce’s grasp as the man leaned forward to reach for him.
“Loki, wait.”
“I have work to do.”
“I know, I know. I get it. Just… Do me a favour, will you?”
Loki paused
“Get some rest, okay?” Bruce said, “You’re no good to me dead on your feet, and God knows I need all the help I can get around here.”
“Very well,” he conceded with the slightest tip of his head, a gesture that didn’t reassure bruce . “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
A while later
“Doctor Banner?”
Bruce came to with a jolt, his stiff neck telegraphing its complaints loudly as it was required to shift back so suddenly to a more natural position. He raised his face and blinked blearily, a sheet of paper clinging to his left cheek.
He’d fallen asleep at his makeshift desk again. Patient records were spread out in front of him, a cup of some long-abandoned beverage sitting untouched to one side. He peeled the page from his face and rubbed clumsily at his skin, hoping the ink hadn’t transferred. He could imagine how awful he must look: red-rimmed eyes, his face creased where he’d rested it against his arms.
Bruce smiled up at the young healer, too tired to be embarrassed about the situation she had found him in. He asked her what time it was, thinking perhaps she’d come to usher him to his bed, and she shook her head at him.
“Please, come quickly.”
The urgency in her tone brought his foggy mind into sharper focus and he rose to follow her from the room. He ran through the list of critical patients in his mind as he hurried after her, pushing his fingers through his mussed hair and straightening his shirt as he did so. There were three, maybe four whose symptoms were progressing to a critical stage, but they’d remained stable for much of the night. He’d been confident they would pull through, but perhaps that had changed. He mentally prepared himself for the worst, his mind already working to devise a next round of treatment should it be needed.
The girl however led him straight past the bay they used for treatment of the most serious cases, and continued along the corridor towards the rooms set aside for those out of immediate danger. Bruce felt his skin flush cold, a finger of dread slipping down his spine. Heimdall and Valkyrie had been stable for some time. Were improving, in fact. And Thor… Surely not Thor.
He picked up his pace, corridors, airlocks and hatches flashing past him in a bewildering, maze-like tangle. He almost always had to ask for an escort whenever he left the areas at the core of his work; no matter how many times he took these routes he just couldn’t seem to commit them to memory.
They encountered few people as they made their way towards the ship’s central quarters; it was late, and this part of the ship served its command centre, the bridge and the private chambers of the most high ranking officers. They must have passed the turn to the medical facilities a ways back.
Bruce slowed with a frown, finally getting his bearings as they approached a familiar intersection. He’d been called upon to sit on the ship’s council on those few occasions they’d convened before the illness sweeping the ship had knocked all attempts at routine for six. He remembered the way now that he was here.
He paused when his guide took a turn, continuing on towards the bridge. “Um, isn’t it this way?” he called after her, a thumb over his shoulder.
Rather than reply, the girl beckoned him to follow and quickly hurried from sight through a large set of doors. Bruce followed.
He entered onto the bridge through the doors at its bow and was once more reminded of the scale of the vessel he travelled on.
His guide stood a short distance from him and had joined two other youngsters already in the room. They stood in a tight circle, in quiet conversation, all of them shifting nervously. All three cast worried glances towards the view at the stern, and when Bruce turned to discern the source of their worry he felt his stomach sink.
There was the thud of a fist being brought down onto a surface in anger, and an abortive curse Bruce could not translate. The three young people flinched as one and directed a pleading look at him. He took a breath.
“It’s okay,” he told them. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Hey, Loki,” he said with a casualness he didn’t feel. “How’s it going?”
If Loki noticed Bruce’s presence, he made no sign. He was standing with his head slightly bent, his back to the room, his focus entirely on some task before him.
Now that he was level with them, Bruce could make out a series of displays Loki had pulled up on the consoles around him. streams of data scrolled past, as did star charts. A blueprint of what Bruce guessed to be one of the ship’s main escape pods rotated slowly in the centre of them all.
“What are you doing”
It took him a moment to realise that one of the displays he’d been looking at wasn’t paired with any of the equipment in front of him. The green-gold shimmer of Loki’s magic rippled across his senses as he peered more closely at it. Loki seemed almost to be writing something in the air before him, or perhaps drawing it, though in what language Bruce couldn’t begin to guess. Loki’s movements were sharp and fast, almost frantic, and with a growl of frustration he erased a section he had just finished with a sweep of his fingers. Further gestures and twists of his wrist manipulated and contorted the image, his intense focus absorbed entirely by his work.
“Oh. You’re, uh… Okay then.”
Bruce looked back over his shoulder at the trio of nervous onlookers, hoping for clarification. One of them simply shrugged their shoulders at him. “Right,” he said under his breath.
He turned his attention back to Loki and looked at him.
Loki looked… not great. But then none of them had been in peak condition for several long, arduous weeks. He had that pinched, exhausted look he’d been carrying for some time now, but which was now animated by high spots of colour on his cheekbones and wide, fever-bright eyes.
It was the first time Bruce had seen him out of his armor since… well, ever. Loki wore only a black suit clearly a concession to the heat he was giving off. Bruce didn’t need to touch him to feel the warmth radiating from his skin, even without getting close. Glancing down, Bruce noticed that Loki had his left hand braced against the work surface in front of him and was clutching it with a white-knuckled grip.
“Listen, Loki,” he tried. “Can you stop for a second?”
Loki continued to ignore him
“Hey. Hey. Can you hear me?”
When Loki still didn’t respond, Bruce raised a cautious hand to draw away Loki’s own from the image he was starring at . Loki shook him off with a sharp movement of his arm, but without really appearing to register the action. He continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted and began muttering something under his breath, although Bruce couldn’t make out what it was.
“Well, here goes,” he said mostly to himself. He made a fist and pulled, scattering the bracelet of lights that had formed up his forearm as he did so. The main display folded into itself as he did, the picture going dark.
That seemed to have some effect. Loki stopped what he was doing and turned, a frown forming slowly across his features. When he moved to approach Bruce’s console, Bruce stepped in front of him with his hands held palms out.
“Hey, woah. Loki. Stop.”
Loki blinked at him, recognition apparently secondary to figuring out what outside force had interrupted his process. He swayed slightly but finally fixed his gaze on Bruce’s face.
“Bruce.”
“Yeah. Welcome back.”
Loki blinked at him a couple more times, confusion stealing over his face.
“You with me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good. That’s good. I need you to come with me, alright?”
Loki shook his head jerkily. “He’s coming.”
“Who’s coming, Loki?”
“We have to be ready. I have to…”
Bruce waited a moment, but Loki seemed to have lost his train of thought. “You have to...“ Bruce prompted. “You have to get something ready? Something with the ship?”
“Something with the ship,” Loki repeated dully, his eyes losing some of their focus. “Yes.”
Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, or whether Loki even properly understood what he was saying. The guy was starting to take little panting breaths.
“Alright,” Bruce tried with some attempt to inject a note of authority into his voice. “Well, I think that’s enough for now.” He moved again to put an encouraging hand on Loki’s arm, but Loki pulled it back from Bruce’s reach with a quiet, “no.”
Bruce again brought his hands up, prepared to step back if he needed to, but the gesture was unnecessary. Loki stilled suddenly, winced and screwed up his eyes, an unhappy hiss escaping through his teeth. Behind him, the image he had conjured into being flickered and dissipated. Loki once again braced himself with one hand against the console next to him, the other moving up to press at his eyes.
Bruce gave him a significant look that was entirely wasted. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked pointedly.
After several moments to collect himself, Loki eventually flapped a dismissive hand at him but didn’t open his eyes. “I’m perfectly… perfectly…”
Bruce allowed a sigh to release, confident Loki wouldn’t notice. “Uh huh. Never been better. Got it.”
This was going nowhere fast. He reached again to take Loki’s elbow in an attempt to bodily steer him away from the consoles, and was immediately reminded of how hopelessly outmatched he was in this world of inhuman strength and fantastical powers. Loki didn’t fight him, didn’t so much as twitch, in fact, but he was as immovable as granite. Bruce may as well have tried to cajole the bulkhead to move by giving it a polite tug. “Why don’t we take a break for a bit, huh?” he tried anyway.
Loki ignored the hand on his arm. “I’m not finished,” he complained weakly, sounding distracted. His face had an anxious, anguished look that Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to do with.
“I really think you are, buddy.” The overly familiar epithet slipped out before he could stop himself.
“You don’t understand,” Loki insisted instead in a whisper, and Bruce struggled to keep the dismay from his face.
Time for a different approach. “You’re worrying the kids. Look.” Bruce indicated the three young people still hovering at the back of the room, hushed and with eyes wide. Loki actually turned to cast an unfocussed gaze in their direction, and the three of them hurriedly bowed their heads.
Bruce tried more of a teasing, conspiratorial tone. “I think they’re a bit afraid to say anything, but they’re freaking out.”
“Freaking… out?”
“Yeah, you know, not sure what to do. To help, I mean. They’re shy around you. And scared to do the wrong thing. You’re kinda a big deal around here, I guess.”
“It is not me they should fear,” Loki murmured, entirely missing the point Bruce was trying to make
“Listen. What I’m saying is, they need you to set an example. They look up to you. They’re looking to you to show them what to do.”
“I’m trying…”
“I know you are. I see that. But what they need right now is to know you’re looking after yourself, too. Remember what we talked about?”
“So what do you say? Shall we get out of here for a bit? Come back to this later?”
“Yes…”
.
“Good. There you go. Come on.” With a little more pressure, he persuaded Loki to release his hold of the console in front of him and to take a step away. Loki stumbled slightly on the step down from the platform and Bruce gasped as slightly more weight than he was quite prepared for bore down on his shoulder.
“Sorry,” Loki muttered absently to his feet as they regained their balance.
Their audience looked torn between rushing to help and keeping a respectful distance, and Bruce took pity on them with a bright smile. “It’s alright,”
“I’ve got this. You can go back to your work now. Everything’s going to be fine.”
The three looked relieved to be given instructions from someone in authority.
Bruce guided Loki down the remaining steps, the heat pouring from him searing Bruce’s arm When Loki‘s hand wash passed him when he walked past him . “Jeez, you’re burning up,” he huffed, but Loki didn’t respond.
It became quickly apparent that the journey to the medical bays was going to be impossible with Loki in this condition and with only Bruce’s human strength to manage him. Instead he steered them both towards Thor and Loki’s quarters in the hope he could make a start on an assessment there and call in help later. Luckily it seemed a direction Loki was more than happy to take, the familiarity of routine perhaps guiding his steps without conscious thought.
Bruce kept up a one-sided commentary as they walked and tried his best not to let the strain of Loki’s weight as loki hand on Bruce’s shoulder supporting himself enter his voice. “Almost there, you’re doing great,” he
Only halfway to the quarters, Bruce had to revise his plan once again. Loki listed to one side,
Bruce had to grab him to stop him falling over
This wasn’t going to work.
“Okay, plan C it is.”
An intersection of passageways offered at least a small chance that someone would happen by, so Bruce steered Loki towards a small bench on which to sit.
“Where’s…?”
“We’re just gonna take five. We’re not far, Come on.”
Loki shook his head. “No. Thor. Where’s Thor?”
Bruce could see where this was going. “Thor’s not here right now, remember?”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Yeah, that’s going to be a problem,” Bruce said under his breath. Then, more patiently, “Why don’t you sit down for a minute while I fetch us something to drink.”
Loki narrowed his eyes at that, but after some indecision finally condescended to be guided to the bench. He dropped heavily onto it, a glazed look about him that told Bruce all he needed to know about the stage the fever was at. He Needed his temperature to be cool down , and soon.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Bruce ordered. He jogged ahead to the main quarters, scanning every corridor and room as he passed for signs of life. Just as his journey up here had been, the place was deserted.
Shouldn’t have sent those kids away, Banner.
He found canisters of drinking water in Thor and Loki’s quarters. He scavenged a cloth wet that too. He returned to find Loki with his head tipped back against the wall, tendrils of hair stuck flat to his flushed skin.
“Here you go,” Bruce announced as he pressed the water into Loki’s fingers, encouraging him to grip the canister. He then draped the wet cloth over the back of Loki’s neck.
“Where is Thor?” Loki asked him again, oblivious to all this.
“He’ll be here real soon. Drink that for me, please.”
Loki did so, absently at first, then with more interest,
Bruce’s only real tools here were his words, and he’d have to rely on Loki’s remaining sense of reason if he was going to help him. His track record lately did not bode well.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” He lowered himself onto his haunches in front of Loki and made sure he had his attention. It was wavering in and out, but Bruce would have to work with what he had. “You’re going to finish that, and I’m going to go flag down a couple of folks. I’ll be as quick as I can, but I’m going to need you to stay here, alright? Do not move from this spot.”
Loki gazed back at Bruce blankly, sweat glistening at his hairline.
“It’s too hot.”
“I know. We’re going to get you cooled down, just as soon as we can. I promise. But I gotta go get someone first.”
Bruce rose to leave but was halted by a hand at his sleeve.
“I need to find Thor.”
Lord give me strength. “And he’ll know just where to find you, as long as you wait right here.”
Loki drew his eyebrows together but released his grip on Bruce’s sleeve. He seemed to notice the cloth at his neck and tugged at it impatiently.
“No, leave that where it— Okay, you don’t want it. That’s fine too, but I really think it would be a better idea to... Hey, wait. No no no. Where are you— Loki! Hold up!”
Ignoring him entirely throughout, Loki dragged himself unsteadily to his feet and brushed Bruce aside with the barest amount of force. It seemed he’d decided to take matters into his own hands.
“Shit,” Bruce cursed to himself, following in Loki’s wake as he lurched his way deeper into the ship, one shoulder clipping the corridor wall each time he veered off course.
They almost made it to Thor and Loki’s quarters when Loki stopped, a hand halfway to his head, a sharp expression of pain baring his teeth in a grimace.
Bruce could see what was about to happen. His warning came too late.
“Be careful, you’re gonna—”
Before Bruce could reach him Loki took staggered sideways, put a hand out to catch himself. He missed the wall altogether and fell forward into empty space. When the side of his face connected with the doorframe the force of the impact snapped his head back, and the clang it produced echoed loudly down the corridor long before the rest of him hit the floor.