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Death was not in the phone-book. Thor didn't know enough about Midgardian entities to attempt to find him, but Loki had rambled long and often about the 'upstarts' he had met in his travels, and something had miraculously stuck in the broken cobweb of the thunder god's mind. Loki had spoken often of a man named Robert Singer who taught the fire god plenty of things about the local deities (under an alias, of course. It had taken three burnings and one misplaced stake to convince Loki to resort to disguise.)

They had thought long and argued often before it was decided that Steve and Tony would go, for fairly obvious reasons.

"He shot my brother and lived. Even a son of Odin's courage has limits."

"He's a 'hunter'... It wouldn't go well."

So mid morning the next day found Tony, armored and perhaps a bit tipsy, and Steve, thoroughly sick from the Iron Man powered flight, knocking on the hunter's door.

The door opened a crack and a bleary eye glared out of it. "Whaddya want?"

"Do you have Death's phone number?" Tony snarked through his closed helmet. "He invited me to dinner but didn't say where or when."

The eye looked the costumed heroes up and down critically. "Avengers, right? What do you want with Death?"

"Answers, sir." Steve replied politely. "A... an acquaintance of ours mentioned that you specialize in..."

"Demons, ghosts and monsters, boy." The door opened wider and a grumpy bearded face invited them in. "You can leave your fancy suit outside with the cars, kid." Though reluctant, Tony complied. He still had the ring, after all.

The three settled in a dusty, cluttered living room and Singer dropped several cold beers on the coffee table, shifting a stack of books to the ground to make room. The room was heavy with dust and filled bookshelves with foreign titles lined the walls.

"What you after Death for?" The old hunter popped the cap off his beer with a battered penny and took a swig.

"Tony picked up this ring," Steve began, gesturing to the ruby jewelry on Stark's hand. "These men came looking for it. One of them said his name was Death." Rogers turned the cold bottle over in his hands thoughtfully. "Oh, and they walked through walls, and Tony's pretty much indestructible with the ring on- which we can't remove."

"And they didn't smite you into mush?" Bobby snorted in disbelief.

"Do they.. usually do that?"

"The bleeding horsemen of the Apocalypse, of course they do!" The hunter got up with a slow creak of tired bones and pulled an ancient book off a shelf, wiping a decade's worth of dirt and unpleasant things off the cover. The title had been burned into the leather surface to prevent fading and read Belua voco liber. "Usually you'd need to kill off entire towns to summon Death but since he's kicking around anyhow..." Bobby slimmed the pages quickly and settled on a passage. "Burn the branch of a Cherry tree and say et huc venerunt- oh inferni- and he'll show up and turn you inside out."

"Anyway to summon him without dying?" Stark rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"He likes pizza." Bobby deadpanned.

"So, if Death and the others are in America..." Rogers chewed on his lip. "Well, why are they in America?"

"Why d'ya think, boy?" The hunter fixed Steve in a piercing look. Despite being many years older, Steve felt himself shrink under the unwavering stare and realized the old man was waiting for an answer.

"Er, the apocalypse, sir?" Steve ventured. Bobby gave him a patronizing nod. "Well, how do we stop them?"

"Get all the rings." Bobby replied immediately. "Pretty much powerless without them. I'm surprised War left his laying about. As soon as the ring latches on to someone else it sticks with them. Fickle little bastards."

"We think Loki stole it." Stark commented, polishing the ring with his sleeve. "Hey, does this mean I'm the new War?"

"Course not." Singer snapped. "You can't replace Personifications, kid. War's still immortal and pissed, so don't go thinking the defanged dog is harmless. But he is weakened, and if you can get the other rings then you might be able to stop it all. Look, the lot of them will come looking for War's ring. That's the only time you'll be able to find them. That's all I can tell you." Bobby finished off his beer and placed it heavily on the coffee table, dismissing them.

A little disheartened, the Avengers left and prepared for siege.

Death watched nearby, easing his grip on Bobby Singer's mind. The Grim Reaper's decision would set Hell on his heels, but if that was what it took to free himself and his brothers from Lucifer's shadow, Hell would find the Pale Horseman with his Scythe readied.

War had spent most of the night thinking. It did not come naturally to him, so it took up a large chunk of time. He considered the Opposition and how they would defeat the Avengers without Death, as none of the brothers had seen him since after War's embarrassing defeat. Normally, he would not doubt the chances of even three of the horsemen against any enemy, but without his ring felt the delicate grip of Potential Consequences squeezing him. There was the beast Banner, who could be easily manipulated by a surge of anger from War, but an angrier Hulk would not make for an easier fight. Stark still had the ring and Rogers was no light-weight, by mortal standards at least. Pestilence didn't know if he could down a god but Famine stated he could deal with them all without trouble. The sensibility often repressed by War's more primal instincts pointed out that the mortals could capture Famine's ring if the Personification took significant damage (which was certainly a possibility when facing the Hulk) but was urged aside by his battle-lust and it was decided that Famine would attempt to defeat them first.

Famine found Bruce Banner alone in the tower, Thor having been recalled by Odin over one of Loki's fits (there was a dragon involved and may have begun over the king describing Hvisla's growth as 'lacking') Famine was disappointed at the lack of targets but searched Banner's mind anyways. The man hungered for... Absolution and forgiveness? Most mortals wanted money or company and Famine was momentarily put off.

Only for a moment, of course, before he set to work. The image of Doubt was placed in Banner's unsuspecting sub-conscience, and the dark horseman watched with glee as Bruce sat up from his lazy position on the couch and started fidgeting guiltily. The mortal felt like he should be doing more for the newest 'stop-the-world-ending' plan and Famine eagerly deepened the shame.

Seized by desperate drive, Bruce got up and started pacing. The room seemed to shrink down on him and make it hard to breath as the doctor reminded himself half-heartedly that the others would be back soon and they could continue digging up information on the horsemen. A small mental nudge from the hidden horseman brought Banner to his knees and Famine stepped out to gloat, a useless habit Death could never break him of.

"And War said you'd be a problem." Famine laughed thinly. Bruce looked a bit ill as the Personification stooped over him. "All I had to do was whisper 'you lazy ass' and you rolled over." The mortal looked positively green now, and Famine thought delightedly that he might be sick from guilt.

It was the last thought to enter his mind before the Hulk ripped him in half.

It was approaching evening by the time Steve and Tony got back to Stark Tower and found the doctor in the kitchen wearing one of Thor's far-too-large robes. Bruce didn't look up from his cup of tea as he stared blankly at the kitchen wall, a plate of neglected cookies at his elbow. A new ring gleamed on his hand; the metal was a curious alloy with an orange stone set in it.

"Hey, flashy, where'd you get it?" Stark greeted his science bro, examining the ring closely. "I don't recognize the metal or the stone."

"Antimony. It represents animalistic power within humans." Bruce said without feeling. "The stone is orange aventurine meant to suppress hunger. I think it was Famine's." He took a long, tasteless sip of his cold tea.

"Funny," Tony helped himself to the cookies as Steve raided the freezer for feel-good foods.. "Wait, from Famine? Like the horseman?"

"Yup." Bruce murmured into his cup, eyes still fixed unblinkingly on the wall.

"You alright, Bruce?" Rogers asked with mother-hen concern.

"M'fine. You need a new sitting room, Tony."

"The Singer guy said we could stop the Apocalypse if we get out hands on all four rings." Stark pried Banner's hand off the cup and tried to pull the antimony ring off but found it stuck fast like War's. "Two down, I guess." Bruce didn't even blink at the talk of 'apocalypse'. He had somewhat expected it.

"What about Famine?" Steve peered around the corner to assess the state of the sitting room and came back looking faint. "Nevermind."

"I thought you couldn't kill Personifications." Tony protested, daring a peek himself.

"I don't think he's dead."

In the middle of the room was the twisted form of a crippled old man who, despite clearly having half the weight he had entered in, was moaning softly. Spread out across the room was the golden blood of an immortal and despite it's metallic colour the stink was easily recognized as large amounts of fresh blood. Despite all he had seen, the damage he and the Hulk had done together, Stark felt bile rise in his throat and retreated back to the comfort of the well-lit, clean kitchen.

"So, yeah. Two down."

Bruce took another long draw of tea.

"Should we... call a doctor?" Captain America suggested. Now that he was listening for it, he thought he could hear quiet stirrings in the next room as the beaten immortal hovered between Dead and Just Pissed Off.

"And say what? 'Oh, this is just an immortal being bent on world destruction. Mind patching him up, doc?'" Stark rolled his eyes and crunched down on another cookie.

"I can help..." Banner spoke softly as guilt and shame twisted his miserable face. "Patch him up and all."

The noise in the sitting room stilled and Steve hurried off to investigate. He found the room still covered in a liberal amount of black blood but the source of the mess had vanished.

Death hoisted his injured brother gently up into his arms, ignoring the flood of ichor that sprouted from Famine and soaked his otherwise neat suit. He could hear the whispered voices of the mortals in the next room and briefly felt a flash of surprisingly human anger as he carried the dying Personification to a place outside of where one's feet could lead them. His touch was gentle as the Grim Reaper healed the dark horseman of his grievous wounds.

Famine stirred with a weak whine but was swiftly hushed by his older brother and sent back to a more peaceful sleep. He would not remember his encounter with the Hulk or the healing coma that followed.

Death was left in the grip of indecision; two of his brothers had been injured and were now powerless. War's incident was not, however much the other claimed, Death's fault, but Famine's was. The thought of seeing poor little Pest in the same throws of fear and pain twisted something deep inside the Immortal's essence. Not for the first time, Death itched to grab the whelp Lucifer and shake him until the little common sense the fledgling had rattled into proper fear.

The thought had barely formed when he felt the devil tug on his golden chain and was called away from his recovering brother's side.

Belua voco liber means 'monster call book' and et huc venerunt- oh inferni is 'come here- oh hell(!)'

This is quite a bit smaller then I've done for this fic so far, but I haven't had the time to write, and don't know when I will again.