So this was supposed to be a one-shot, but I realized I left everyone on a bit of a cliffie, what with Bruce Hulking out on the Winchesters, so I decided to whip this up. Also, I realized that I didn't include all the Avengers; if I don't mention it later on, Steve and Bucky were at a meeting with Fury, Natasha was on a mission in Bulgaria and Thor was visiting Asgard.

Pt II

It was supposed to be a relatively simple hunt. Clear-cut. There's a violent death, couple decades later a new house is built and the owner's girlfriend bites the dust. Simple, right?

Maybe, Dean reflects, he should have expected this. Should have known that the Winchester Luck would act up. Or maybe there was nothing he could have prepared for, since the Avengers, the new inhabitants of the haunted property, had pretty infamous luck themselves.

It started, not well, but not too badly. There was nothing that suggested it would go this wrong. (It was Tuesday. Of course it went wrong.)

But then things started happening, and in the space of ten minutes, their host had gone from smiling – if a little stiffly – to big and green and distinctly not jolly. And the Hulk didn't seem too impressed with the twin guns pointed at his face. In fact, he seemed to take exception to it.

As the rage monster charged, Dean ran, shoving his brother ahead of him. What, you really think he'd leave Sammy behind?

Nothing seemed to slow down the Hulk, and Dean was just making peace with the fact that they were about to be grease spots on the floor when the elevator opened and salvation walked out. Two tall men, one blond, the other dark-haired and fitted with a metal arm. They were chatting companionably, but the instant their eyes caught on the scene in front of them, they froze.

The blond swore, then snapped out orders: "Bucky, get those guys out of here. I'll try and get through to the big guy. Damn, I wish Thor were here."

The Winter Soldier obeyed instantly and without question. He grabbed Dean by one arm, Sam by the other, and hauled them into the elevator, already snapping at the voice in the ceiling.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., first floor. Now!"

The elevator started moving almost immediately without a wait like in most, but not fast enough to avoid shaking when the Hulk barrelled into the doors. Winter Soldier frowned at the ceiling, but didn't speak. Before now, Dean had never been a subscriber to the whole 'it's scarier if they don't talk' thing, but after today he'd believe it. The guy was, for lack of a better word, blank. Standing at attention like the soldier he was, his eyes roved over the two Winchesters, but he stayed silent.

After what seemed like ages, the elevator opened. The Soldier steered them toward the Impala, then turned to go back in. Dean didn't question it. He shoved Sam into the passenger seat, then floored it.

Later, back in the motel, he turned on the news. There, splayed across the screen, was Avengers Tower, windows of the fiftieth floor shattered, smoke billowing out.

"Today," the newscaster was saying, "Bruce Banner, aka the Hulk, went big and green on Avengers Tower. No-one knows what set him off, but there's a lot of speculation. Nobody was harmed in this incident, and Captain America managed to calm him down, but there's quite a bit of property damage, and when escorted out of the building Tony Stark and his two companions looked quite strange. Here's the footage now."

It cut to a clip of Stark, the man Dean assumed was Clint Barton, and the kid Bruce referred to as Peter walking out of the building. They looked miserable, festooned in what appeared to be semi-liquid white spiderwebs. Stark was carrying a box, presumably containing the infamous kittens.

The newscaster continued, "Mr. Stark has confirmed that their eccentric appearance was due to a malfunction with Spider-man's webs, which he manufactures for the elusive vigilante."

Dean turned off the news.

"Hey, Sammy," he called to his brother.

"What?" Sam responded from the bathroom, over the sound of the shower.

Thoughtfully, Dean said, "I think the Avengers have this one covered. Let's leave them to it."

"Hell, no!" his brother said indignantly. "They're not prepared for this."

"Think about it. We're just making things worse. I think they've got this."

"Really?" Sam asked incredulously. Dean could guess what he was thinking. There was only one brother who'd ever suggested leaving a job, and it wasn't Dean. The elder brother usually stuck to cases like a bulldog.

"Really," he confirmed.

The taller brother came out, towelling his hair. "Well, if you're sure."

"I'll keep an eye on the news. Any more deaths, we'll come right back."

Grabbing his clothes and shoving the old ones into his duffel, Sam shrugged. It was clear that, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. (Dean missed when his brother questioned him. Missed when he'd ask Dean, what's wrong? and are you okay?.)

The shorter hunter picked up his bag and the weapons duffel, carried them out to the car. Five minutes later, they were on the road, Def Leppard blasting through the sleek car.

"So," Dean asked, "Where are we heading next?"

"Well, there's a couple of weird deaths in Belgrade, MT. Might be a case. We've got people dying with their hearts torn out, but it's the wrong lunar cycle for werewolf-"

And just like that, they were back on familiar ground, with no deal and no demons' blood and no betrayal. Only the Winchester brothers, the Impala and the road. Just like always.