I am being very bad here. Mistress Death is…nothing like she is in the comics. I'm sorry! This is my version of Death, so she's pretty much completely different. If you didn't read the comics or were like me and got way too into reading backstories and biographies, then you should be fine. Just remember, Death isn't anything like this in the comics.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers, Thanos, Mistress Death, or the state of New Jersey.

It was done. Thanos was down.

The losses were devastating. Half of New Jersey was flattened by the power of the Infinity Gauntlet. But now, it was in Thor's tight grasp so he could bring it back to his father in Asgard. The Hulk had shrunk back down to Bruce and was promptly handed a pair of pants. Tony's mask was off, and his suit laid around his in disintegrated pieces. Steve looked at his shield in horror, or at least, the two halves that once made up his shield. Clint was out of arrows, Natasha was out of bullets. If the battle had gone on any longer, they would have lost. But thanks to Captain America's quick thinking and oddly sharp tongue, they just barely managed.

Thanos was on the ground, eyes blank, and his oddly black blood in a puddle around him, his thick skull smashed into the ground.

That was all terribly horrifying and all, but every Avenger had their attention focused on something else entirely.

At first glance they thought she was a survivor. One of the very few who was stumbling free of the rubble. It became clear very soon that their initial thought was very, very wrong. The way she was headed straight for them with such a purpose was odd. Beyond that, they could see that she definitely wasn't wearing civilian clothes. She wasn't kicking up dust. Dust swirled dementedly around everything else, catching the light in odd ways, but not around this girl.

Glittering spots of blue peeked out from under a white hood. The hood was attached to a long cloak that was fastened in the front by golden clasps. White fabric swished around her ankles and brushed over golden boots. Golden brown curls tumbled out from the only opening in the front, the one where her face was visible. Her face was exceedingly pale and scarily perfect. Having no flaws and being perfectly symmetrical wasn't normal, and she was obviously not normal.

A few of the Avengers, more specifically Steve, thought she looked like an angel. Not in a lusty or romantic way, because she appeared to be maybe 14 years old, but her gold/white outfit and perfect flawlessness seemed ethereal.

She approached them without any hesitation and a determined look on her face. Her eyes were observant and taking in everything they could.

When she reached the waiting Avengers she had words at the ready. "I see you killed my Thanos."

Those words set them all on edge. Thor tightened his grip on the both the gauntlet and Mjolnir. Natasha and Clint both reached for their weapons before realizing there was no ammo to use. Tony and Steve both felt exposed without their signature things, and it set their teeth on edge to have no way to defend themselves from whoever this evil, Thanos loving angel turned out to be.

"Did I make the big bad superheroes nervous?" She trilled. "My bad." She practically stalked around them all once. Natasha was flexing, testing how sore her muscles were. The Black Widow could take some 14 year old, right?

"My Thanos seems to have done quite the number on you all. Where is your armor, your great weapons to make me fall on my knees in terror? I see nothing." She stopped in front of them and plopped onto the ground, resting her chin in a sparkly golden glove. Thor started to raise Mjolnir and the little girl smiled.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Odinson. Don't want to damage your pretty hammer, do you?" Thor raised an eyebrow. He lowered Mjolnir and rose the Infinity Gauntlet. The girl smiled, her perfect white rows of teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

"How did you manage to get that away from him? I would have come to see, but it seems I was too late. At least Asgard treated me well. You weren't great friends with anyone called Skye Heiadottir, were you Thor?" Thor looked taken aback, and his mighty hammer was slowly lifted and caught the rays of sunlight. The girl stayed where she was, another smiled overtaking her. It should have been a sweet smile, but something about it made the Avengers shiver.

"I'm sorry, dear Odinson." Her apology wasn't sincere. Shining blue eyes swept over the gathered people in front of her. "Are you, Earth's Mightiest Heroes, afraid of me? You should be."

Tony Stark was always proud, even when his suit lay in shambles. He took a step forward and locked eyes with the girl. "Us? Afraid of you? You, some lost, psychopathic, 14 year old girl? Who would be scared of you?"

The relaxed, amused expression melted away. In its place came eyes full of hatred and nostrils flared. "Fourteen? Fourteen? Why would you believe me to be so young, so naïve, so ignorant? Do you take the Odinson to be 25? No, because you know what he is. You don't know yet what I am, but I can assure you Anthony, I am far older and far more skilled than the pathetic Aesir who sits at your side like an overgrown lapdog!"

She stood up and her ivory cloak bounced lightly and blew in the gentle wind. She marched in front of Thor. An accusing finger was suddenly inches from the god's chest. "Do you know what you are, Odinson? I know what you think yourself. You think yourself immortal, and you think yourself a warrior, a king. You are none of those things, Odinson. What you are is scum. You have betrayed those who trusted you since that day you were born, and it's time you knew it."

Thor looked down at the short girl in horror. Before the girl did anything, she cleared her throat and turned sharply on her heel, facing away from the group. Heavy breathing could be heard from the girl, who was quickly becoming more than just a girl in the Avengers mind.

Her voice was a bit lower and much softer when she spoke again. "I did not come here to explain. I came here to warn you all just what you are up against. But as I stand before you I realize you need a headstart. A fair chance. So, you will get your explanation."

Her eyes met Clint's when she turned her head. "You have been compromised, Barton. Do you know how many you killed? I do. 54. 54 people that died on your hands in the span of a few brainwashed days. How does that feel? If I were you, I'd be proud of myself. Ms. Romonav, so many men were sent to whatever follows death because of you. I would tell you the number, but I believe you already know, don't you? Rogers killed without meaning to, and justified it to himself because they weren't on his team. Is that like a sport to you people? It is to the Odinson, who spent his best days on battlefields. Banner had destroyed homes as well as the families inside of them. Anthony, the Merchant of Death, you might be my favorite. I feel the closest to you, I truly do. But I digress. Thanos.

"I met Thanos hundreds of thousands of years before this day. We weren't friends, that much I can assure you. His people, the Eternals, had a sort of deal with me. They wouldn't die if they made regular sacrifices. I accepted because it kept me amused, not because I needed it. Thanos went above and beyond his brothers. I don't look like an innocent mortal to them, like I do here. To the Eternals, I was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen, cloaked in red and black. Thanos fell for me beyond all reason. His mind was addled by the depth of his worship. That's what it was, really. Worship.

"To prove to me that he would love me eternally, Thanos killed millions of Eternals, almost making his own race extinct of my behalf. That's when the Eternals learned, you don't make deals with Death."

That made the Avengers tense up. Their reaction only made the girl smile again. "My name is different to different peoples. To the Aesir, I am Óáran, or Dauði. Odinson knows the legends. To the mortals of this realm, I have different names in every dialect. But to you all, I am Death. The very embodiment of what each of you fears. The end of your existence. I can't kill you, I am only the end result. But I can make each of you turn on each other, if I wished. I can be very…persuasive."

Natasha knew she was safe from words. So was Clint. They were trained for that. Death noticed and grinned at the spider. "You don't believe me? I can change that."

Natasha waited to hear what Death had to say, but Death said nothing. She turned her back again, and seemed to shudder. When she turned around, it was a different face. "Natalia?" A high pitched voice squeaked.

It was a very little girl, only 6 or 7, with chin length brunette curls and wide brown eyes. The white cloak had shaped and shifted into a short red dress. Pale legs and feet poked out from the bottom. The tiny girl ran for the spy.

"Natalia!" She wrapped her arms around the woman's legs. Natasha just froze and her eyes were staring off into the distance. "Natalia, what's wrong? I found you! I told you I'd see you again and I am now! I found you!"

Natasha swallowed hard and blinked, but didn't look down at the child. The little girl looked like she was about to cry. "Natalia, look at me! I got taller since last time, I really did. Look, look, I'll show you." When that didn't work, the kid took a deep breath. A high soprano voice softly tugged at the hardened, cracking assassin as the child began to sing in Russian. " На утро, солнце покажет. Утром мир будет светиться ..." In the morning, the sun will show. In the morning the world will glow…

Natasha seemed to break down, and her raspy voice finished the line with the girl. "и вы будете в целости и сохранности." And you will be safe and sound.

The little girl giggled and twirled, her claret dress flaring out around her. "You remember! You remember!"

"I can't make myself forget." Natasha whispered hoarsely. Another giggle escaped from the girl. She kept spinning and spinning, slowly getting taller and taller until she was a completely different person entirely.

She had changed again, into a full grown woman. Not the girl older, but a different woman. Her hair was short and black, and her face thinner and more angular. No one seemed to recognize her, but she fell onto her knees before Bruce.

"I'm so sorry! Bruce, I'm so sorry!" Bruce's brown eyes widened as he looked down at the woman kneeling before him. "What I had with Glenn was nothing, Bruce, it was a fantasy, a dream. What I had with you was so…real. Real and wonderful. Please Bruce. Forgive me, and I can start to forgive myself."

"Betty, I…" Bruce faltered. Betty sniffed and nodded.

"I understand. I wouldn't take me back either." Betty retreated and started spinning. All the other Avengers waited with their breaths stuck in their throats, not wanting to know who else was going to crack emotionally from these stupid illusions.

Betty's hairs lengthened and got greasier, her eyes sunk and her cheeks grew gaunt. Slowly she wasn't Betty anymore, but was someone they all knew. An emaciated man with long dark hair and green eyes. But his mouth that had spilled hatred and lies was gruesomely tied shut with golden thread. His emerald eyes were streaming with tears. Nothing about him looked evil. Nothing about him looked healthy.

"Loki?" Thor asked as quietly as a Thor could. The man just whimpered and cried even harder. Thor couldn't help himself, didn't bother to remember it wasn't actually his brother in front of him. He ran for the dark haired prince and tried to put his large hand on the bony shoulder, but his hand fell through and landed on the ground with a thud. Loki was gone.

Death stood a few feet away from where Loki had been, her brown curls and white cloak restored. A grim looked settled on her features. "Betty Ross is still happily married to Glenn Talbot, and she thinks upon the Hulk with no softness or joy. Little Anastasia died of illness at age 8 in the arms of her only friend, the 14 year old Natalia Romanov, while they sang their self-composed lullaby, and she will remain in whatever land the dead settle. But Loki, now that Thanos is gone and so is his control, cries alone in the dungeons of Asgard with no recollection of how he got there."

Bruce looked at the ground, his bottom lip stuck firmly between his teeth. Natasha was visibly fighting tears. Thor fell to his knees and stared at the ground in absolute terror. The other Avengers, as unhappy as they were for their comrades, were relieved they hadn't all gotten a turn.

Death marched right up to Steve and held her right hand, palm up in front of him. It was still encased in a silky gold glove. "Feel my fingertips soldier."

Steve really didn't want to touch Death. All of his instincts were telling him it was a very bad idea. But he knew he couldn't say no to Death. Death would be far too powerful to deny, and Steve wouldn't lie to himself and say otherwise.

So his fingers gently brushed the fingertip of Death. What he felt was shocking. A soft of flutter met him, a constant thrumming. Death looked at him expectantly. Steve stopped short. "What…what is that?"

"Whenever something insignificant dies, a mortal or an animal, I get a pulse in my fingertips. I've come to tune it out. But it's always there. Every time it pulses, I get a name and a face, and nothing else. I don't know where they go. I'm just who they go through. When someone important, a god or an Eternal, leaves us, it's a magnificently fulfilling feeling. It's a pleasure none of you will ever know. You all would be great little prizes for me, and I'm sure Thanos knew it. He himself felt great passing through. But I can't kill you all at once, or the feeling would be wonderful but brief. So it has to be one at a time, and I have to destroy you from the inside out. It will happen. I came here to warn you originally. So that's what I'm doing now.

"No matter what you do, no matter how strong you are, you can't, and you never will, escape Death."

The smiling girl exploded into silver mist that blew away in the breeze.

"My brother…" Thor's low voice mingled with the wind. Steve put a hand on the god's shoulder and then retreated to look at his broken shield again. Everyone was reassessing damages, making sure Death didn't leave any traces.

"She is more dangerous than Thanos," Natasha said quietly. "She knows our weaknesses more than even we do."

No one was really up for talking. They just nodded their agreement. Thor rose slowly and pulled the Infinity Gauntlet over his hand. With a clenched fist, he had all of the other Avengers disappear. They landed in StarkTower, where they needed to be to rest. Thor tightened his fist again and found himself facing the palace of Asgard.

Death watched them, amused. Thanos was finally dead. She had been pulling on his life force for quite some time, and it was finally hers. Those Avengers thought they could defeat Thanos? Maybe. But Thanos with the Gaunlet? Never. That was all Death being bored with Thanos' company.

She already had a plan to ruin the Avengers from the inside. There would be no traces of her, no traces of foul play. It would be left to simmer and than explode. And then the Avengers would be lost in their misery and pain, just like Death was.

There we go! That's been simmering in my brain for quite some time now. Next chapter will be less Death, more Avengers! Yay! Hopefully, if I can do it right, the battle with Thanos will be pieced together during the rest of the story.

Please tell me what you thought, and what you think Death's plan is.

Until next time.