The Winged: Rectifications of Fate (Supernatural X Reader X Avengers)

Assistance from Down Below

"Stark's....trying to....summon the....devil." Sam threw open the door without the slightest bit of courtesy, hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

"What?" Natasha closed her book with an audible thud. Any other day, she would have interpreted this sentence as a highly exaggerated metaphor but given everything that had been happening, Tony just might actually be asking Lucifer for help.

Not bothering to even straighten up her disheveled appearance, she dashed right after Sam, hoping to get everything under control before the Dark Prince accepted the invitation into the building.

"I don't know, man. This whole thing seems kinda sketchy." Clint hovered over Tony, arms crossed over his chest, while Tony made the finishing touches on the demon trap he was painting on the common room floor.

Before he had the chance to stand up and fully admire his handiwork, he heard footsteps behind him which he assumed were Natasha's, obviously dragged in by Sam. "I am not summoning the devil." Tony answered her question before she had a chance to ask, "It's just the King of Hell."

"How's that any better!?" Natasha was having trouble believing her eyes. And ears.

Tony hadn't just come up with the spell. It was the last thing he would look up on the internet either. You had taught him the spell, just for the fun of it; to watch him freak out and stay that way for days. Only then, you didn't have the slightest clue that your domestic nonsense would turn out to be ever so useful.

Wanda sat there, observing everything that was going on and not at the same time. "I don't think you should be meddling with forces you don't understand."

Tony turned around, mentally deciding that explaining what he was doing would ultimately make things easier for him. Bucky had gone out taking Steve with him, so the only person he really had to convince was Natasha.

"(Y/N) is alive. (Y/N) is alive and well and out there somewhere with the Winchesters. Now, I looked those bastards up and the database said they've been dead for years!" Tony hoped the King of Hell would wait long enough for him to finish what he had to say before making his appearance, "Listen to me, I was going to marry that woman. I don't know about the rest of you, but I would very much want her back at the compound."

That was a statement no one wanted to debate on. You had taken a prominent place in everyone's hearts in unusually little time and your absence had taken a visible toll on them.

"Hello." A pudgy, balding man with a British colour in his tongue appeared in the center of the symbol Tony had just painted, making further argument virtually impossible.

"Aren't you a little short to be ruling hell?" Sam asked against all prudence.

"What is it that you want?" Crowley cast an incinerating glance towards Sam, "If it's not important, which I'm certain it's not, my minions can take care of the deal just as well."

Natasha characteristically took the lead. "There will be no deal. We are looking for a friend and for that, you will be giving us the address of Sam and Dean Winchester."

"No deal? Isn't that a bummer. Which alive person could you possibly be looking for whom Moose and Squirrel know anyway?" Crowley caught a glance at Wanda's striking red eyes wanting to bore into his demonic soul, "Don't try looking inside my head, love. You'll have a hideous headache for days."

"Back to the point." Tony called out loud enough to get the conversation back on track. "We are looking for (Y/N). She was presumed dead, for a very valid reason let me tell you, but we saw her the other day with the Winchesters. Ergo, we are looking for them now."

"(Y/N)? I hear she goes by the name Maira now." The King of Hell uttered the words purely for the sake of the pain they would cause.

"Either you tell us where they live or you leave." Clint proposed the final offer.

"Well, then, looks like it's goodbye. Now, which one of you will be doing the honours and breaking the seal?" Crowley waited for someone to come forward and erase part of the circular trap along its circumference so he could depart but when no one moved, he came to a stunning conclusion. "None of you know what you're doing, do you?"

"Tell you what, I will give you the information you seek, without taking your souls in lieu whereof. But you will owe me a favour." After giving it some thought, Crowley put up a counter offer, which, despite initial hesitance, the team accepted collectively.

In actuality, they didn't owe Crowley so much as a stale ham sandwich. It was a complete diplomatic move he had made on his part because of a little rebellion he was facing back home. He figured with the Winchesters immersed knee deep in this emotional melodrama, he would have a little privacy to sort his kingdom.

He could not have been more wrong.