A haunted stillness draped itself over the room, weighing heavily on each person. All eyes were fixed to the holographic screen above the table. Moments passed and no one dared to break the silence, or were simply too wrapped up in their inner battles to pay heed to the others around them. The quiet reigned on until the large dull thunk of a bird hitting the window unleashed a tsunami of rising emotions, shouts, and curses.

Bruce abruptly stood, straining out a polite "Excuse me" and left, a green tinge spreading across his face too quickly for anyone's safety. Not that anyone heard the man, as most of the others in the room were shouting over each other while they attempted to figure out what exactly had just happened. Tony immediately pulled out his phone, making calls to maintenance personnel and crowd control, fingers flying over a tablet.

John didn't hesitate to wrap his hand in a vice-like grip around Sherlock's wrist. Moriarty. Jim Moriarty was alive, and up to absolutely no good, the end of the word in fact! John giggled a bit hysterically, his eyes never leaving the screen. The blood dripping down the side of the stark white lab walls reminded him too much of the blood oozing over Sherlock's own pale and blank face, all those years ago. John had to reassure himself Sherlock was still by his side, he wasn't a runaway, but more importantly he wasn't dead. The consulting detective twisted his wrist and gripped John's hand back, his hold equally as abiding. Sherlock swiveled John's chair towards him, breaking John's line of vision to the security feeds and interrupting his train of thought. He, too, had an unnatural pallor to his face. Using his unoccupied hand, Sherlock guided John's face to make him look him in the eye.

"John. I am okay, you are okay. His web. Every. Last. Strand. I destroyed them all, crippled beyond threat. He has no power." Sherlock tried to reassure John, but John just shook his head.

"We, we ca-we can't do this again, Sherlock."

"Yes, we can." The detective sounded pained, looking for something in John's eyes. "I can't face him alone this time."

With a flare of his nostrils and a sharp intake of breath, John straightened up, his demeanor hardening and eyes flashing dangerously. "Like hell I'm letting you face that bastard alone again. No, not this time. I won't be able to survive another one of your deaths."

Sherlock smiled, "And I'd be lost without my blogger."

"Tony," Steve started, "what the hell just happened."

"Seriously, Stark," Romanoff clipped. "How did they get in?"

"I don't care how they got in," Clint interjected, crossing his arms. "I want to know where they are now."

"I'm working on it," droned the distracted Tony. His fingers were tapping away at the tablet's keyboard.

Thor was studying the screen that showed the lobby message closely, his brow furrowed in thought. "JARVIS, who burnt the missive on the floor of the entryway?"

JARVIS hesitated. The Avengers froze and slowly looked up, not liking when JARVIS didn't immediately share things with them. The last time JARVIS had hesitated, Lucifer had been in the building.

"JARVIS, who was it?" Tony demanded.

If an AI could sound regretful, that's what JARVIS's tone would be. "It was Loki, sir."

The Winchesters were murmuring to each other, their heated whispers the only thing that kept the room from falling to silence once more. Thor's knuckles creaked loudly. He suddenly slammed his fist onto the table, making dishes bounce up and almost everyone jump. He quivered, tense, with sparks arcing between the strands of his hair.

"No. It could not have been Loki. Not the Loki I know. That Loki is trapped in a cave on Asgard."

Dean looked up at the name, breaking off from his conversation with Sam to ask, "Loki? Loki like that douchebag that attacked New York a few years ago?"

Thor whipped around, his hair crackling as it moved, eyes blazing. The sky outside grew heavy with dark clouds and rumbled with distant thunder. "He is my brother, and I will not have you speaking ill of him!"

Dean held up his hands in easy surrender, eyes wide. "Easy, big fella." He turned his head to Sam and muttered, "And I thought our family was messed up."

Thor's fingers twitched like he wanted to call Mjolnir from his room, then tightened into fists like he instead wished to punch Dean through a wall. Natasha was in front of him in the space of a moment, all fluid grace and calming murmurs. Gradually, his hands loosened and she subtly guided him away from the screens, enlisting him to help her make tea. She knew he needed something to do with his hands, so she sent him to find mugs for everyone while she boiled the water.

"Thor," the superspy said. Handing her the cups, Thor looked over to see a rare gentle expression set on the redhead's face. It was neither pitying nor sympathetic, just the softer side of Natasha, their friend.

"Natasha." His voice rumbled in weariness.

"You love your brother, and there is nothing wrong with that." She paused, making sure the god was listening. "The one you know to be, he may still be in there. But you have to focus on what he is doing right now." She placed a hand on his forearm, and he relaxed the fist that he had made. "It's hard for us all to see you torn up about Loki, maybe you can reach the brother that you know again one day. Maybe not in any of our mortal lifetimes, but one day. Today, he's made clear what side he is on and in this battle, he's not on yours."

The kettle whistled and the spy poured the perfect portion of boiling water into each mug Thor had set before her. Tea bags were added and it wasn't long until the curling steam brought wafts of warm, soothing, herbal scents. Once the tea had steeped, she delivered each cup to the people around the room, leaving Thor to his thoughts. John and Sherlock near-instantly relaxed once they had a warm mug in their hands, though they maintained contact with each other even as they drank. Dean wrinkled his nose at the earthy smelling drink, but Sam took a cup gratefully. Castiel gazed into the dark liquid curiously.

The Doctor looked around the room with the eagerness of an excited puppy. He seemed energized by the tension that hung thick in the air.

"This is so exciting!" the Doctor exclaimed before he took a sip of his own tea. Rose gave him a not-so-subtle elbow jab to his ribs, nearly making him spill his tea. When he gave her a baffled look, she jerked her head meaningfully to the side of the room where most of the others were. Clint was seething, staring out one of the window-walls, an arrowhead rolling back and forth between his fingers. Thor was seated at the table, his head hanging down as he took deep, steady breaths, his back expanding upward like the swell of a wave. Sherlock and John sat close together, one hand gripping the other tightly as if they would lose their way without the contact, obviously deeply shaken by the news. The Doctor blinked and gave Rose a sheepish smile, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, yes, well…there is that. That's not good, of course…" He took another sip of his tea and turned his eyes to the corner where Tony and Steve were arguing. They were bickering back and forth but neither of them seemed to be upset; they were likely trying to keep the room from lapsing into an uncomfortable silence, arguing more for the sake of having something to do rather than fueling a fire.

Coulson had remained calm through the whole event, merely sighing and muttering something about "more paperwork" as he began compiling and recording what had happened in a new file, speaking lowly to JARVIS for additional data.

Coulson paused in his data gathering and pulled out his buzzing phone. "Oh," was all he said before standing and straightening his suit. Natasha and Clint took the small cue and were the only ones ready before the elevator dinged. A trademark long black coat flared out around his legs as Director Fury stepped out. He was closely followed by Assistant Director Hill. Tony's scowl deepened when he saw them.

"I don't particularly feel like dealing with your bureaucratic bullshit tonight, Director," Tony sneered, pointing a finger at the elevator, "If you would be so kind as to get out of my tower. How does this concern you anyway?"

"Any security breach to the Avengers Tower is reported to S.H.I.E.L.D.," Maria answered coolly. "It was our business as soon as they walked in the door."

Tony scowled but said nothing more, muttering darkly under his breath as he continued his in-depth search of the Tower's coding, looking for any nasty surprises that may have been left there.

Steve saw the confused and curious expressions on their newer teammates' faces, as well as the not quite annoyed but rather not happy expression on the Doctor's face. He cleared his throat to catch the attention of the room at large.

"For those of us who joined us through more...unusual channels, this is Director Fury, head of S.H.I.E.L.D.-"

"I didn't come here to make friends, Rogers. We have business to attend to and I suggest we get to it." Fury's tone was clipped and he sounded like the last place he wanted to be was there.

From the moment the director had walked in, Sherlock had begun taking mental notes about their apparent overseer. To most people, Fury looked overbearing and severe, and he was. But even a face as impassive as his told Sherlock many things. When he walked in the room, Sherlock could almost feel the authority come in with him. He felt John's hand twitch next to his arm as if he meant to salute but thought better of it. Instead, John gave a curt nod and greeted the director with strict formality.

Sam copied the gesture but Dean was busy muttering something to Castiel and barely acknowledged the director's entrance.

"Damage report!" Director Fury barked out, his eye fixed on Stark who continued scrolling through his tablet.

"No major damage to JARVIS or the main computer system, I've already fixed what little our frosty friend did. There is a team starting repairs on the floor of the lobby which took the most damage, another team is cleaning the blood off the wall of Lab 88, and the camera in the mainframe vault is set to be replaced. One casualty, an intern named Nick Williams whose blood was used for the message, though half a dozen people got injured during the panic from Loki, and a chemist that had been mind controlled by Loki had a PTSD episode. He's with the shrinks now, for whatever good they'll do-"

"How did they even get in?" John demanded.

"Lucifer probably flew in himself." Sam saw the confused looks the others were giving him. "It's not flying like you'd think, it's more like teleporting."

"Oh, like Feathers over here does," Tony gestured at Castiel as his other hand typed. Castiel blinked and looked around.

"Who is Feathers?"

Tony swiveled his chair a few inches to look over at the angel, perplexed. When he saw Castiel truly did not understand, he just gave him a little pitying smile and patted his shoulder.

"Anyway," Tony continued, "it looks like we've got a lot on our plates. So, anyone got a plan of attack?"

"Does this mean your plan involves more than just 'attack?'" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow at Tony.

Tony opened his mouth to retaliate but paused and pointed a finger at Steve. "Cheeky, Rogers. But yes, I think we'll need something a little more elaborate this time around."

"And it might help to know what we're up against," Jack said, tugging on his suspenders. "I mean, what exactly is this guy bringing to the table?"

Fury addressed the Winchesters. "You two seem to be the experts on this Lucifer guy. Mind clueing us in?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other, inviting the other to answer the question. After a brief, silent exchange, Sam spoke up and the others listened with rapt attention. "Well, uh...to be honest, we don't know much beyond the basics. We've never actually met him in person until now."

"We know plenty about angels and demons," Dean interrupted. "We've been caught in the middle of their Apocalypse for months now but this the prize fight. And you could say it's a little out of our league."

"Sorry, what now? Apocalypse?" Coulson said. "I don't mean to sound like a broken record but I just want to clarify here. We're talking about THE Devil and THE Apocalypse, right? The whole Biblical nine yards?"

"Yeah, that's the idea," Dean sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, don't you think we should have noticed something by now?" Coulson continued. "What's the point in having global chaos and destruction if nobody has any idea it's happening?"

"I guess you could say they haven't gone public yet. But all kinds of crap has been going on under the radar and I'm guessing Lucifer's finally ready to bring it all to the forefront."

"And best of all he's brought some friends," Fury said snidely, circling the table and gesturing at the surveillance feed still on display.

"Does anyone else feel like we're being targeted?" Tony said. "Lucifer has some beef with you two, we're obviously familiar with Loki, and I'm assuming whoever that is has some history with the good detective."

"Or maybe we're targeting them," Natasha said. Everyone looked to her for explanation. She uncrossed her arms and pointed at the Doctor. "It depends who was rallied first. Did he choose us to combat them or the other way around?"

They all turned their attention to the Doctor. He looked a bit affronted.

"Well, it's a bit difficult to explain really," he began, scratching behind his ear. "I chose to recruit you because I knew who Lucifer was going to go after but by choosing you Lucifer then knew who to get on his team which I already knew about but wouldn't have happened if I hadn't selected you specific people. It gets rather complicated if you look at time as a strict progression of cause and effect. You see, time is-"

"Doctor," Rose interrupted upon seeing the confused stares from most of the room, "I think it's better if we just move on."

"Right, well, perhaps so." He stuck his hands into his jacket pockets, looking somewhat dejected.

Tony tapped a spoon on the table. "So why don't you two introduce us to contestant number 3?" he said, gesturing at John and Sherlock.

The two were silent for a moment until John spoke up. "His name's Jim Moriarty. We thought he was dead."

"Lucifer must have reanimated him," Castiel said.

"What's his story then?" Steve said, ignoring Castiel's stating of the obvious. "What does Lucifer want him for? He looks...ordinary."

"Far from it," Sherlock supplied, keeping his eyes staring straight ahead, still turning over every detail of the attack in his mind, gleaning every bit of available information.

"So what is he? Demon? Vamp? Some kind of god?" Dean asked.

"Oh no, he's human," Sherlock said, looking pointedly at Dean. "Don't mistake the absence of the supernatural as absence of power. His mind is more dangerous than any one of your creatures."

The room fell silent again.

"So how do we defend ourselves, then?" Steve asked, directing the question at no one in particular. The brothers glanced at each other, then Dean leaned forward with his hands clasped and his forearms resting on the table.

"I don't know about Megamind, but I do know my creatures and my lore. We know of wards that will keep them out," he explained, "but we're going to need supplies..."

Sorry about the late update. We've all returned to college and it's been hectic, not to mention this chapter has been a stubborn butt to write.

We'll most likely update every other week. If you don't hear from us for awhile, do not despair! We assure you all we are continuing to work on this. Working 5 fandoms together isn't the easiest thing, but we've got this.

Enjoy!

—Cheekbones