Fusion fic
Everything was pain. Everything had hurt for so long, it was almost too easy to give in to the demon's offer and take up torture. He could feel the hand in his blonde hair as the soul below his ministrations screamed a throatless scream. It went on forever, it seemed. Until a bright light burned against both his and his master's skin, and suddenly he was trying to scratch his way out of a coffin.
When he finally dragged himself out of the ground, he saw the blast radius of felled trees. What the hell? He just ran away, toward the road. He need to get in contact with people who could help him figure out how he wasn't in hell anymore.
When he's standing in the closed gas station, stealing energy bars and water and a porn mag, the buzz starts and it drives him to the ground as the glass shatters around him. The radio whines and the television is filled with snow.
As soon as it's over, he's out to the pay phone, calling a number he knows by heart.
"Who is this?" the gruff voice snaps.
It's me, he says. The line hangs up.
"Call again and I'll kill you." He's told when he calls again.
There's a car nearby, so he hotwires it and drives.
After he's convinced both the gruff voiced man and his brother that he's really him, and his brother has convinced him that the moron didn't break him out of the pit, they are left with finding out who left the hand branded onto his skin.
The gruff voiced man knows a psychic. Her eyes are burnt out when she looks. At least they have a name.
"Maybe wishful thinking here, but maybe it's just the wind?" he says when the barn roof starts to rattle. Moments later the doors burst open and the lights start to explode. A man in an expensive look suit strides forward, unfazed by the flashes and sparks, walks right up to him.
"Who're you?" he asks.
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and pulled you out of hell."
He thanks him, mockingly and stabs him with the blade. The man just stares at it before pulling it free, still impassive. The man with the gruff voice swings a crow bar but the sharp dressed man catches it and twists it free, quickly throwing it away from them. " We need to talk alone."
"What are you?"
"I'm an angel of God."
"No such thing."
The man looks at him skeptically.
"Why would an angel want to save me?"
"You don't think you deserve to be forgiven, saved?"
"Why?"
Phil Coulson, angel of the lord, looks back at Clint Barton, the righteous man, and says, "Because we have work for you."