Title

Don't Panic

Author

Sa'Kalu

Summary

Death doesn't appreciate being stalked by a Chaos Titan, and while Death really shouldn't intervene, He does anyway.

Disclaimer

Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers; The Avengers is the intellectual property of Joss Whedon, Marvel Studios and Paramount Pictures and their affiliates.

Rating

K+: some swearing, minimal violence and little sexual content.

xXx

"'Scuse me, mister," a hand tugged at his arm as Steve Rodgers held up his shield to deflect yet another bullet coming his way. Pausing long enough to shoot the kid, all knobby knees, green eyes and messy black hair, an incredulous look, Steve grabbed the boy and swung his shield with all his strength, knocking the aliens head off. "Mister," the kid spoke again, his voice high pitched and piping.

Steve crouched down low, wishing he had a gun and that the kid wasn't in the middle of a battle field in New York city between himself and his new team, the Avengers, and the aliens that Loki had brought from god-forsaken place in the universe. The kid was still looking at him, innocently and wide eyed, expectantly. Steve had no idea what was going on here but he had a feeling that it was a bad idea to get the kid killed.

"Mister," the kid was getting annoyed now, his voice still high pitched but now laced with darker tones of aggravation. "You should get those people out."

"What people, kid?" Steve decided to halt his disbelief and just figure out what the fuck was going on.

"Cap?" Stark's voice came over the com unit, confused. "Who are you talking to?"

"I'd like to know that too," Natasha agreed, closer to Steve than Stark, who was flying high above their heads, guns blazing as he took out alien after alien.

"There's a kid here," Steve announced, grunting as an alien -Chitauri, he thought they were called- slammed into him violently, its claws scrabbling at the edges of his shield and trying to take off his head. Steve huffed as he shrugged off the aliens dead weight, its neck snapped and dangling at a sickening angle from where Steve had grabbed it and tugged. The Chitauri were oddly delicate once you got the hang of smacking them around; although their chitinous armour made them more like to bounce off of things, unharmed.

"A kid?!" Stark's voice was incredulous. "What do you mean theres a kid there?"

"I'm not a kid," the kid stated, his green eyes amused. He looked awfully comfortable standing there, pint sized and surrounded by shrapnel, falling buildings and the dead bodies of dozens of aliens. It was then that Steve realised that the kid was wearing something like a dress, black and baggy with a silvery cloak around his neck and an ugly ring on a chain around his neck. "And you really should save those people in the subway."

Steve gaped at the kid, who rolled his eyes, grabbed Steve's hand and towed him over to the entrance of New York's Grand Central station, the sounds of screaming children, crying women and yelling men echoing loudly up through tunnels and stairwells. The pleas for help had Steve moving before he could even comprehend what he was doing.

Sprinting downwards, taking the stairs three at a time, Steve barrelled into three aliens, swinging his shield wide and far, cutting through their necks in a spray of bright blue blood. Because he really needed convincing that the bastards really were alien and different. Within moments Steve had cleaned up the station and battened down the freaking out civ's in between a barricade of desks and vending machines, arming the more competent men and women with the chitauri's spears and guns and telling them to stay put until help came in the form of the military.

The kid stood where he'd left him at the top of the underground. Steve stared at the kid, bewildered by his blasé exterior and at the way he was humming what sounded like a nursery rhyme. The kid smile cheerfully at him, waving in greeting, and Steve felt like slamming a palm of his hand into his face in a show of annoyance and exasperation. The kid needed to be put somewhere safe until the battle was over.

"You should head over to fifth," the kid announced nonchalantly, staring up at Steve with those big green eyes. Steve sighed and then nodded, knowing better to argue with the kid who clearly had some way of picking out where the most problematic areas were.

"Okay, but first I'm taking you somewhere safe." Steve stated, gripping the kid about his waist and hoisting him onto his hip. Ten minutes later, Steve had deposited the child with the survivors of the underground skirmish and was back topside, jogging to Fifth Avenue.

Steve understood what the kid had meant by 'you should head over to fifth' now. It was a disaster zone. Buildings were shattered and ruined and Stark's tower could be seen in the distance, the sign reading: Stark, was utterly ruined but for a large red 'a'. Worst of all was the sight of Stark flying into the open mouth of one of the big mutherfucking worm-things that could fly. With a brilliant flash of light and gore, the beast exploded outwards, raining down on the road and Stark was still flying, triumphant and exultant.

"You should be more careful," the kids high pitched voice rang out, stunning Steve as the man turned to look around and saw the child, who he was damn sure he'd left safe and sound three blocks back.

"Kid, it's really not safe out here," Steve said, even as Natasha's voice rang out excitedly into his ear.

"I can stop it!" She cried, happiness bleeding into her voice. "I can shut down the portal!"

Steve felt a brilliant grin take over his face and he looked up at Stark's tower where the great beam of white light shone into the sky. "Yes!" He whispered, the force of his exhale turning it into a victorious kind of hiss.

"Not yet," the kid said calmly behind him, staring up at the tiny red speck that was Stark as he caught something in the air.

"Not yet," Stark shouted, strain readily recognisable in his voice. "I have a nuke and I know just where to put it."

"Better call the Big Guy," the kid added, reaching down to pat the dead cheek of a chitauri soldier. Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust before having to duck a spear thrown at his head. Distracted by the fight for his life -yet again- Steve missed Stark's entrance through the portal, only noticing that the billionaire playboy had succeeded when the chitauri around him collapsed without warning.

"Fuck yeah!" Barton's triumphant yell echoed through the com link only to turn to a disappointed groan as Stark fell back through the portal and didn't show signs of flying.

Thor, who had appeared out of nowhere, made to to fly, whirling his hammer around, and catch the Ironman. Eyes widened in shock when Banner, in his green suit, launched himself up and caught Stark as he fell, tumbling to safety and rolling to a stop. Wrecking yet another road.

"Stark!" Steve shouted, forgetting the kid behind him and flung himself at Stark's side, flipping the man's helmet up to peer at his face. "Wake up, Stark."

Brown eyes fluttered open and Stark grinned painfully, "no one kissed me did they?"

"No," Steve laughed, relieved. Miraculously, they had survived.

"Mister," the kid said, having appeared at Steve's elbow. "I need to see him now."

Steve turned, beyond caring at the kids unnatural behaviour, more than pleased that his fight was over for now. Somehow, they had won, which was a fucking miracle. "Who kiddo?" Steve asked, feeling generous and pleased.

"The Trickster," the kid replied, looking up at Stark Tower, his green eyed hooded and mysterious. "It's time for me to talk to him."

"Who the fucks the kid?" Stark asked.

"Wait, kid?" Barton asked through the com link, the sounds of feet on concrete stairs giving away that he was descending from the roof that Stark had stashed him hours ago. "What kid?"

"I'm not a child," the kid stated once more, his tone so deadpan that Steve couldn't quite work out if he was joking or not.

Thor, who was staring at the kid with sad eyes and an unnerved expression, walked off, pausing long enough to make sure that the kid was following him and led the way to Stark , the rest of the team swiftly followed, jogging after the tall, bulky blonde with confused expressions. Stark was slower than the rest of them and after three minutes of running, let out a groan and rolled his eyes. Flipping his face plate down, Stark kicked off and aimed himself at the roof of his tower, beating his team mates there by a whisker.

Steve entered the room where Loki lay groaning in a pothole, Thor standing by the bar, a bottle of water in his hands while the kid stared at the Trickster with bright green eyes. Barton made his way over to Romanoff, his eyes sweeping over her, checking her over for any visible wounds, the red head smiled slightly before turning her face away from her partner, resting them on the tiny child that stared at Loki unnervingly. Banner wandered in within moments, still pulling up a pair of pants and buttoning them up, Steve felt himself turn red in reaction to the sight, Stark grinned at him, amused by his old world values.

"Who is the kid, anyway?" Barton asked, snagging a bottle of water from the top of the bar where JARVIS had placed them.

Thor met Barton's gaze and shrugged, "I am not surprised you don't know, Midgard doesn't have a whole lot of law on him."

"That doesn't answer the question, Point Break," Stark stated, skipping the water for a bottle of whiskey instead. Pouring himself a generous measure as Loki finally pulled himself up into a seated position, Stark's eyes widened as Loki flinched away from the child, looking terrified.

"Shit," the Trickster winced, huddling down further from the child who watched him curiously.

"You shouldn't of harmed those people, Trickster," the kid said calmly, his voice sweet and clear. "You know this planet is owned. It has been for millennia, long since you were born."

"Uh," Loki gulped, backing away slightly only to have Thor stride over and grip his arm, pinning him down. "Brother?"

The looked pained, "you know the consequences of your actions, brother."

"And so you throw me to the dogs," Loki sneered, bitterness alive in his voice. "How unsurprising."

"He throws you to no one, Trickster," the child replied, cocking his head curiously.

Loki stilled, curious. "The why are you here?"

"To see if you are remorseful for their deaths," the kid admitted, tugging at his silvery cloak.

Loki considered it, he would be unable to lie to this being, besides which, it would be inadvisable to do so. "Not particularly."

The kid looked at him sorrowfully, "I know you're not, and I'm sorry."

The kid stepped forwards the utter bewilderment of those around him, barring Thor, who watched with sad acceptance. Pressing his hands to Loki's shoulders, the kid pressed a kiss to Loki's forehead and enveloped them in a white light. Then, when the light ceased, the kid stepped back and in his arms lay a small babe, his eyes bright green with a tuft of dark hair upon his head. Thor bent his head in acceptance, taking the baby from the kids hands sadly.

"He is not blameless in this, but neither is he at fault, Thor son of Odin son of Borr," the kid stated, cocking his head at the Thunder God and considering the tall blonde carefully. "'Ware, for Loki's master will come to retrieve him. The one known as Thanos, Death's Lover."

"Death has a lover?" Stark questioned without thinking.

The kid turned to Stark and smiled slightly, "so Thanos would like to think."

"Wait, death has a stalker?" This time it was Baron who spoke, his voice incredulous.

"Correct," the kid agreed. "Hel is not pleased, either. Even less so with the man she calls Father for obeying the man who seeks to control her."

"What do we do then?" Romanoff asked, her voice serious and cold.

The kid turned to her, mischievous and amused. "Nothing, Natalia," he said calmly, stunning the red head into silent stillness. "There is nothing you are able to do."

"How do you know that name?" She demanded.

The kid smirked, morphing into a taller, teenaged boy with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was whipcord thin and Natasha clearly recognised him because she went bone white and swayed. "You don't think you truly managed to survive the Moscow winters without aid, do you?"

"Who are you?" She asked, wrapping her hands about her waist tightly. Unnerved.

"Death," the kid said, returning to the form of a black haired little boy with bright green eyes. "Or at least, a version of Death."

"A version of death?" Stark questioned, shooting a dark look at Thor who cradled his brother to him tenderly, cooing at the brilliant green eyes set within Loki's tiny, pale face.

Death, the kid, nodded, "of course, you don't actually think that there is only one Death do you? Do you have any idea the amount of work we get?"

Stark's mouth flapped while Steve stared, dumbfounded. Thor shifted his weight, reaching out to the tiny kid who claimed to be Death, gripping the boys shoulder tightly, silently thanking him for his mercy. Natasha had slid behind the bar and picked up a bottle of vodka and a glass and was drinking it like it was going out of fashion. Barton moved to join her, trying to keep up with the rapid shots. Stark and Rodgers were watching the spies with amusement and disappointment between observing Thor with his new charge.

Banner, forgotten until now, watched the boy leave, slinking from the building like he had never been and wondered how a person became Death. Because that kid had been normal once, it was there in his eyes. Shooting a quick look around his colleagues who were well on their way to becoming intoxicated, forgetting the pale ghost-like child that had been there not twenty minutes before.

Ducking from the room, Banner jogged after the child, halting the kids progress as he took the stairs in favour of the elevator. "Hey, wait up!"

The kid, Death, turned around, amused. "Mr. Banner," he greeted the scientist. "What brings you here?"

"You can't just leave!" Banner protested. "You save Loki from a fate worse than Death, because don't think I didn't ask Thor what would happen to him on Asgard and it didn't sound fun; and you drop some kind of bombshell on us about being death and now you're just leaving?"

Death looked at him with cool green eyes, quietly impressed with the dark eyed mans growth in self-assurance. "There was no reason for me to remain."

"And the others, will they remember you?" Banner asked, curious.

"Not until it is their turn to pass on," Death denied.

Banner stilled, "will I?"

"No," Death stated. Turning shrewd eyes onto the scientist, he smiled. "Does that make you sad?"

"No," Banner lied, ignoring the knowledge that should he know what Death looked like it would be far easier to move on and accept his fate when the time came.

"As you say," Death murmured, stepping free of the tower. "Remember, Bruce Banner, that not everything is what it seems and that Loki will one day save your world, just give him the chance he never had and he will prove himself to you." Death looked at him, amused. "Until next time, Bruce Banner."

Bruce stood in the shade of Stark tower and tried to remember just why he was there when the ding of the elevator inside drew his attention and a very inebriated Tony Stark stumbled out and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, grinning brightly.

"We're going for Shawarma, you're coming with us!" Stark giggled, dragging his fellow scientist down the road, Barton, Romanoff and Rodgers following them, singing loudly and inappropriately. But then, everyone did something more than a little inappropriate when around Tony Stark.

Behind them, in the shadows of Stark Tower stood a young man with black hair and green eyes wearing a black robe and a silvery cloak, watching them leave with a slight smile on his lips. A smile that widened when Thor, with an overly rugged up Loki, dashed after his team mates, hollering for them to wait up.

"You interfered," a quiet voice interrupted his thought processes and a blonde woman with dark eyes materialised beside him, her clothing ragged in comparison to his own. "I thought you had washed your hands free of interference."

The young man smiled, slyly and cruelly. "I gave them a warning that they barely remember," he replied, knowing that it would be almost be too late for the Avengers to remember Thanatos when he did finally mobilise.

"And Loki's chance at redemption?" The young woman asked, curious. "What is that, but interference?"

"He amuses me," the young man replied, turning to face his companion. "As does Banner."

"You haven't changed, Harry Potter," the woman smiled, shaking her head slightly. "You pretend to be uncaring and aloof, but when push comes to shove you are the first to leap in and lend a helping hand."

"And you, Hel," the young man, Harry Potter, asked. "What will you do?"

Hel laughed, turning away from the man in amusement. "Well, I certainly refuse to help Thanos!"

"Then you will aid me," Harry murmured.

"Perhaps," Hel replied, disappearing into the shadows once more, leaving not a trace of her existence.

Harry smiled, staring after the Avengers, feeling a modicum of hope after centuries of despair. Until his interference, this world was on a set path of destruction, of ruin. Perhaps now there would a world, a universe, after Thanatos' war. A war that would stretch the very fabric of reality, for Thanatos was Chaos and Chaos could never be destroyed, only contained. And the Avengers would be the only ones who could do so without the destruction of Life, the Universe and Everything. Harry snorted as he spun around, entering his own shadow and disappearing, leaving no trace of his being there. Don't panic, the Avengers have your back and hopefully, life as you know it will continue.

Don't panic.

Authors Note:

Kudo's to anyone who gets the various references. There won't be a sequel, this is a one shot of limited... well, anything. Anyone want's to to continue it, let me know and we'll hash something out. The fic's unbeta-ed and thus, there will be mistakes. Let me know and I'll fix it. Free of charge.

Hope you enjoyed, kind regards,

Sar'Kalu