Castiel stared at the time lord, hands placed firmly to his sides. The latter went around his spaceship (TARDIS, it was called, TARDIS), pulling levers and muttering something under his breath. Finally, he leaned back on the control panel, grinning at the angel.

"So, Castiel." The Doctor started. "Actual angel. Have to say I prefer you when you're not weeping." He stared off dreamily. "Well! You called for me?"

"That is correct." Castiel glanced down at his vessel's hands. "There is a trouble we are encountering."

"I see." The Doctor nodded. "Go on."

"Our brother- Lucifer- he was confined, in a cage, long time ago."

"Yes, the devil, the pit, sounds familiar." Man nodded enthusiastically, shuffling impatiently. "Now get to the important bit, would you."

"It appears…" Castiel took in a deep breath. "The cage is empty. Lucifer is free." Again.

"I might have gotten it wrong- wibbly wobbly, gets confusing- but hasn't that happened once already?"

"It has."

"And you have successfully managed it on your own back then." Doctor said, staring into the angels eyes. "Why ask for help now?"

"It appears he had…assistance." Castiel met the time lords eyes. "From a man going by the name of 'Master'. As he is one your species, we concluded you might wish to interfere."

Doctor stared down at the angel, breathing shallow. Finally, he blinked, looking away.

"I see." He nodded.

"Can we count on your help?"

"Earth is in danger." The spark returned to the man's eyes. "You most definitely can."

When you live with Sherlock Holmes, 'normal' becomes quite a relative term. There were many things, most that would leave a grown man speechless, that John Watson now regarded without a batter of an eye. How could he possibly have known, when he opened doors of their apartment that Tuesday afternoon, how extraordinary the man sitting in their living room truly was?

He was thin, fair haired, dressed in a pair of jeans, a V-neck t-shirt and a blazer, casually leaning back against one of the walls. He seemed to be in a middle of a mute staring contest with Sherlock, who was sitting in his usual chair, eyes locked on the stranger. Both chose to ignore John's return.

"Um, hello?" John finally coughed. "I am John Watson. Pleasure."

Stranger glanced towards him. "You are rather short. Not what I imagined."

Well. "Sherlock?" He started, hoping to get some sort of explanation from his friend. "I'll be-"

"No, please, stay with us." The stranger motion towards the empty chair. "I have a proposition for both of you."

Rising an eyebrow, John sat down, not taking his eyes of the man. Sherlock decided to use that moment to talk.

"You are not human."

Stranger replied with a grin. "God, no."

"Wait, wait, what?" John sat up. "He is not- what is going on?"

"His shoes. Look at his shoes." Sherlock gestured towards the man's feet. "That, and the fact he appeared out of the thin air some five minutes ago." His eyes shot up to meet the man's. "What are you?"

"I'm an angel." The man smiled. "But I have already told you that."

"You still haven't supplied me with any evidence."

"You are the great Sherlock Holmes, why don't you deduce it yourself-"

"Alright, enough." John snapped, receiving glares from both parties. "You are an angel? Is that some sort of code I am not aware of?"

"No, the actual angel, soldier of the Lord, that type of thing." The 'angel' replied, glancing out of the window. "Does the name Moriarty mean anything to you?"

"It might." Sherlock replied. Man's eyes narrowed.

"Do you have a name, or do people just we just call you soldier of the lord whenever they wish to speak to you?" John asked in a poor attempt to defuse the tension.

"Balthazar." Came the reply. "Although I do prefer soldier of the Lord."

"'Moriarty' might mean something to me." Sherlock muttered. "What does it mean to you?"

"It's the name of the man that helped free my brother out of his cage- which, in this case, is not good at all, us being the ones who put him there, and with a good reason-" Balthazar snapped. "Now the apocalypse is on the way- again-"

"What do we have to do with it?" Asked Sherlock.

"Heaven requires your assistance." Balthazar took a step towards them. "And we will not take 'no' for an answer."

Tony Stark wrapped his hands around the well-deserved coffee cup, glaring at the bound down trickster. Thor assured him the ropes he brought down from Asgard would keep any creature down, but that did little to calm him down- they used magic ropes in Asgard, and Loki still managed to escape not a week ago. Thor also assured him that the short, amused looking man was not his disguised brother, but Tony refused to believe there were two trickster willing (and capable) of breaking into the Avengers' tower.

"I am going in." Announced Natasha, getting up from her chair.

"You sure?" Tony did not like the idea, but he knew arguing with the redhead assassin was futile.

"He can't do much." She shrugged, typing in the door code. "Wish me luck."

"You don't need it."

"True."

His eyes trailed after her as she walked in. The trickster's face lit up immediately.

"JARVIS?" He called out.

"In a moment, sir." Came the reply, and within a second, Natasha's voice rang out through the room.

"You are not Loki."

"Could be, for you." The trickster wiggled his eyebrows seductively. "But no, not him." He sighed. "Not a pagan god at all, while we're there. But keep guessing."

"You're a trickster."

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes. "And you are Natasha Romanoff, trained assassin, bit of a gun kink- go on, now."

Black Widow remained seemingly unfazed. "Mind reading?"

"Soul searching, more like." He snickered, leaning in. "Here's a bit of a secret: I am not just a trickster."

"Oh?"

"I am an angel."

Natasha rose an eyebrow. "I see."

"No, you don't." There was a sudden change in his expression- nothing too drastic, and still scary as fuck. "You can't."

This was the first time Tony saw Natasha speechless. He was struck dumb himself. The trickster was already up and moving towards the doors by the time he realised the ropes were gone.

"Angels exist." He declared. "And I do not care whether you choose to believe in us or not. But-" He looked through the two-way mirror, meeting Tony's eyes. "My brother is out and rocking, and it's your dear friend's fault. Earth is in danger. Natural balance has been overthrown."

Lights flickered. There was some movement on the wall behind him, and for a moment, Tony could swear he saw a silhouette of two big, fourteen feet wide wings.

"Apocalypse" The angel- Tony knew now, that was an angel- stated. "Is coming."

Natasha managed to stand up, and was now slowly backing off towards the doors.

"Heaven requires your assistance."