Another Tumblr-inspired fic, based on this post: mycroftrh dot tumblr dot com post/51811337042/deanisanactualprincess-icy-mischi ef

"Wait. You mean to tell me that when Asgardians die they go to a place, an actual physical place, that you can travel to, I know you have dimensional travel because you're here, and you don't go and get them?"

Loki gives a confused sideways glance. "Yes? Why would we disturb the happiness of those who have passed to Valhalla?"

"You just said he wasn't in Valhalla! Amora's magic, you said. He got sent to some kind of hell dimension."

"Hel's dimension, she is my daughter - "

"No. This is insane. We're getting him back. Cap?"

Cap looks at the floor. "He's gone, Tony. It's up to God now."

"Okay, I don't have time for religion right now. Clint, Natasha, Bruce, we're getting Thor. Come on."

"What's dead should stay dead, Tony."

"I cannot believe I'm hearing this. Any one else captured him, we'd be halfway to kicking their asses right now. Just because it's Loki's frellin' daughter - don't even try to tell me that if you'd known abut this when we thought Phil was dead, you wouldn't have tried to go and get him. If he'd been Asgardian, I mean."

Loki stepped forward. "They would not survive. Hel's realm is not meant for the living. It would tear them apart. And no one without the power of flight could escape the grasping hands of the dead."

"All right. Fine. You know what? Fine. I'll get him myself."

Tony doesn't fly through the portal, he falls, tumbling from the sky. The suit flickers and starts and flashes awake just as he is about to fall into the dark sea below - but it is not water. Everywhere below him are flailing shadows, the only break in the black bright teeth glinting sharp. No! On the horizon - bright red - something is fighting against the dark, being dragged down by thousands of hands desperate for life and rising again. Tony shoots towards the distant spot of colour.

He can see Thor, more blood than skin, and he swoops down to grab him but all he gains is a dozen shades clinging to his armour. He can feel the cold oozing in through the metal and insulation and into his skin and his heart. He fires his repulsors into them, into the crowd around Thor, bright light melting the darkness, and there are inhuman shrieks as the shadows dissolve. He continues to fire, lighting his way to Thor, unable to stop for a moment, and grips Thor's arm. Thor yells as Tony's repulsor-hot hand burns a print into his skin, but they are already rising, shades grabbing at them and falling, more falling as Tony flies higher, and higher, and they rise to the portal in the sky and cross through, breaking into sunlight, brightness, the shine of a Midgardian sun. Alive.