I hope you all enjoyed that fun, fluffy chapter, because this is the chapter where fun and fluffiness dies. :D The end is nigh, my darlings - grab your tissue boxes.

Natasha Romanov has been many things.

Most of those things, she loathes to think of, and speaks of to no one. They're the past. She'll always be working to clean her ledger, to cleanse herself, but she doesn't dwell on what can't be undone. She works towards the future, towards building something new, and most recently, towards the Avengers.

For a long time, the only future she could imagine was her work at SHIELD. It was fulfilling - meaningful. She was adding to the world instead of taking away, even if that sometimes meant taking lives. She was on the good guy's side, for once. Of course, no matter how much she shoved it to the back of her mind, her past was always right behind her, a shadow following along in her footsteps. She had to work three times as hard for the trust and recognition she deserved, and even after she won it, she never stopped pushing herself. SHIELD was everything. She couldn't afford to lose it.

Because of SHIELD, she met Barton, or perhaps more correctly, she joined SHIELD because she met Barton. Either way, her job and the first true friendship she'd ever had were intricately tied, and she became as devoted to Clint as she was to her work. He, in turn, watched out for her, stood up for her. No one had ever done that before.

They were the perfect team, complimenting each other's weak spots, bringing out each other's strengths. She trusted Barton, and that was a hell of a lot more than she gave anyone else. Even Coulson, who she came to care for over a great deal of time, and Fury, who she at least respected if not trusted, did not reach the level of comradeship she had with Barton.

Life was good. She had the job, she was making up for the past, and there were a handful of people that might actually give a shit if she vanished into the night. It was nothing to write home about, but it was something. It was better than before, than the shadows and pain of her former life. SHIELD brought her out of the darkness.

But the Avengers are the ones who gave her back the light.

Natasha trusts the Avengers - damn it all, but she does. For all that she tried not to let them under her skin, they wormed their way under there. She's... endeared to them, dammit. It's hard to live with someone, to see them at their most relaxed and most human, and not become that way.

Thor, peering into an empty poptarts box as if there might be some hiding somewhere, shoving his big hands in the tiny box. Tony, half drunk from exhaustion, trying to make coffee with his eyes closed. Bruce, talking to himself when he's "alone", his eyes flashing green as the Hulk responds in his head. Steve, curled up in an arm chair, drawing. Barton, being... Barton.

When Coulson made the call and told her the Avengers Initiative was a go, that Barton was comprised and the world needed a team of heroes, she did her duty. She found the team, and she brought her man back. She even worked with them to bring down an alien invasion. But it was just part of the job. Then, months later, she actually moved in with them - again, because of the job, because Tony was in danger and needed her.

Now? Well... somewhere along the way, it stopped being a job.

She knows this for sure because she's standing in her bedroom in the mansion considering betraying everything she's stood for since her old life ended. Since she joined SHIELD, she's never disobeyed a direct order from Fury; not one that mattered, not one like this. She's always put the job, put the mission first. In her effort to prove she belonged, that she deserved to be an agent, she followed every order to the letter, often at her own expense.

And here she is, considering throwing all that away, for a guy who loves poptarts, an insomniac inventor, a nutty doctor, an old-fashioned artist, ... and Barton.

The thing is? She actually thinks it might be worth it.

"Tasha?"

Natasha spins around; Pepper is sitting up in their bed, still half asleep, hair mussed. It's a good look on her. Smiling slightly, Natasha turns. "You should be sleeping."

But Pepper's already standing. "You okay?" She asks, rubbing her eyes. "You've been kinda strange today." She approaches, and Tasha fights her instinctive urge to create distance, to create walls, to keep boundaries between herself and everyone else.

"I'm fine."

"Liar." Pepper smiles, and Natasha feels her heart flutter a little. What they have, they'd had for a few months, but it's already more than Natasha has had with anyone, her whole life. It means more, too. And though she wouldn't call it love - because love is for children - and she knows for certain they haven't been involved long enough for it to be anything... substantial, she thinks it could be. Worries gnaw at her, concerns quake her heart, and Pepper's eyes narrow. "Seriously. What's wrong?"

Natasha turns her head, forces herself to stay but unable to keep eye contact. "Another mission." She's quiet, doesn't speak, and she can tell by the way Pepper's hands tighten that the woman is frustrated. Natasha wishes she could be more open, could be revealing, and in that way she envies Stark. For all that he keeps shit bottled inside, he sure can let it loose when he wants to. She can't even do that.

A hand cups her cheek, and she lets it turn her head. "You know I don't blame you for not picking up, right?" She tries to keep the recognition, the guilt, from her eyes. Apparently she's out of practice, or Pepper has gotten scary good at reading her. "I get it. I've got a job too, you know, I won't always be able to pick up the phone."

Swallowing, Natasha replies, eyes darting downward. "I should have told you about Tony, from the start -"

"You had bigger problems to deal with then, like a really freaked out team."

And that's the crux, right there. If she'd been doing her job, she would've called Pepper Potts, Tony's only real family besides Rhodey, and wouldn't have been preoccupied with being with the team, with comforting and being comforted by these people who she knew now were more than friends. They were her family. Agents didn't have the luxury of family.

"But that's not the real problem, is it?" Pepper crosses her arms. "Or maybe it's just part of it?"

Natasha turns, paces away. She needs space for this. For a minute, she struggles with the words. "When SHIELD assigned me to the team, I - it was another mission. An assignment. I was a SHIELD agent doing my job."

"And now?"

"Now... now I'm a SHIELD agent, and I'm an Avenger." She starts, and once she's going the words just keep bubbling up. "Now I've got these numbskulls who barely know how to take care of themselves trying to integrate with each other and messing up the whole time, and people who are trying to kill them, when they're already pretty good at getting themselves nearly killed. I've got people here who call me 'Natasha', not 'Agent' or 'Romanov' or whatever false name I'm using, they - they care. The Avengers - it's personal. But I'm a SHIELD agent, and the Avengers and SHIELD don't always mesh. I knew, I knew when this started that one day something would happen and I'd -"

"You'd have to choose."

Natasha hesitates, throat dry. "I'd have to choose." She confirms.

"Is that day today?"

She gives a firm nod, doesn't trust herself to speak. She can't believe she's doing this, but she is, and she's certain now of her choice even though it's nuts, it's the stupidest thing she's ever done but it also feels so right.

"So, what's your choice?"

She doesn't hesitate this time.

"JARVIS, wake up the Avengers. We need to have an emergency meeting."

When JARVIS "wakes up" the Avengers, Tony isn't actually asleep.

He doesn't sleep much, normally, but nowadays he is truly pushing the limits of how much sleep a human body can go without. There's too much to do to allow for sleep. So much has gone wrong, is still going wrong, and he's the big fucking liability here. The one everyone's trying to protect, the one that's screwing the fuck up. He's got to fix this.

These Division X people, they - they imprisoned and experimented on Coulson, and now they were probably doing the same to Xavier, and the Brotherhood were no better, they could easily get in his house and attack him, what if they targeted somebody else next? What if they got to Bruce before he could transform, or they managed to get Clint or Natasha off their guard, or - or -

"Sir," JARVIS interrupts then. "Agent Romanov requests the presence of the team at an emergency meeting."

'Emergency' catches his ears. He glances at his work, at the research he's doing, and figures it will wait. If something's happened, he needs to be there. He may be their weak spot right now, but damned if he's not going to do his best to pull his weight.

So he leaves the workshop, heads to the room JARVIS has pinpointed as the meeting's location, and sinks into one of the seats. He won't admit how good it feels to sit in something with a soft back as opposed to his workshop chairs. He should really find time to make those more comfortable, when everything calms down. Because it will calm down. He will fix this.

It takes a few minutes for everyone to gather. Thor is, gratefully, in pants, and he comes in with Jane and - and Steve? Apparently also Steve. Who's in pants. Everyone's in pants, so that's good. That's great. Everything is great. Tony is not imagining his teammates naked, at all, nope.

Steve must catch his gaze, because he flushes bright red. "Tony! It's - it's not like that!"

Thor, catching on, turns to Tony. "Ah! Friend Tony believes that we have been intimate together!" Both Jane and Steve go brick red at that. "As fantastic as such an experience most certainly would be, tis not so. We were performing the Midgardian ritual of the sleepover!"

"The what now?" Clint, coming in from the ceiling (somehow?) drops into a chair and perches on it, like his namesake. Coulson is, magically, already sitting in the chair next to him, and Tony never saw him walk in. Sneaky sneak.

"Jane believed it would assist us to come to an understanding, and so we decided to bunk together and spend the evening in discussion! It was a most enlightening experience."

Steve's face is in his hands, and Jane seems to be torn between laughing and throwing up. Funny, Tony feels about the same.

Then Natasha walks in, and the room goes cold.

She doesn't usually have that effect, all her distance and carefully-contained malevolence aside, so something is seriously up. Tony tenses, feeling the void of knowledge filling with all his worries and fears.

"What happened?" That's Steve, his commanding tone filling the room. Natasha stands at the end of the table, looks down across all of them, and there's something strange, something unusually... unguarded about her eyes. She looks over everyone, and then her eyes settle on Tony.

"I just received new orders from Director Fury. Barton and I are to go on a mission." Barton perks up, as if this is the first he's heard of any mission.

"And that mission is?" The archer asks.

Natasha's eyes don't leave Tony. She opens her mouth to speak - and says nothing. She hesitates, and that is so completely, totally unlike her, that Tony is suddenly very afraid. He is terrified and she hasn't said a word.

"I'm sorry, Tony." She finally manages to say. "They've taken Rhodey."

James Rhodes should know by now that being friends with Tony Stark is just asking for a world of pain. Really, he should have learned his lesson, yet he keeps coming back for more.

Of course, he had no idea he was walking into a trap when he returned to base. He didn't even have enough time to try to escape before they were on him, but luckily enough, he did get a slight warning.

He'd been walking to the general's office to give his report when a strange recruit he'd never seen before had suddenly walked up to him.

"I'm a SHIELD agent," They'd said without prompting, suddenly walking so close to him, they were touching. The agent's hand darted up his sleeve, touched his skin, and he felt a horrid burn for all of five seconds. "Name's Agent Hill. I'm sorry, but we couldn't keep them away from you long enough. They're going to take you, but we've got people already on their way to get you. You won't be with them long, I promise."

She left before he could even get a look at her, and then he was at the general's office, being taken by a bunch of government men in suits, and now he's here, in a jail cell.

"Thank you, Tony Stark," He mutters, slumping against the wall.

He knows why he's here - he's leverage, for Tony, he's sure of it. The man's been poking and prodding into all this shit for weeks, and now it's coming down to the wire. He must be getting close to something, or else Division X is close to their own goals, because now they're trying to find ways to delay Tony, to distract him. They don't know him very well. Taking his best friend is only going to make him more determined to beat them.

"Somebody there?"

Startled, Rhodes turns his head, and glances into the cell next to him. "Yeah? Uh, who's there?" He stands, moving to the door, but there's no way he's going to be able to see this person.

"Name's Alex Summers. You?"

"James Rhodes." He knows that name. "You wouldn't happen to be an acquaintance of Prof. Xavier's would you?"

"Yeah," Alex confirms. His voice is hoarse, and he sounds tired. "You a mutant, too?"

He shakes his head, then realizes how dumb that is. "No," He says, "I'm a friend of Tony Stark's."

Sharp laughter, tinged with pain, is the reply he gets. "Too bad for you."

"Yeah, well," Rhodes looks around his cell, then lets his hand drift to his wrist. The 'burn' on his arm is gone, but he can feel something, a raised bump. Maybe a tracer. "He got me into this mess. He'd damn well better get me out of it."

Granted, he's not going to sit on his ass and wait to be rescued. He's at least going to attempt to get out of here somehow.

"So, Summers," Rhodes slides to the floor again. "Want to tell me what the hell this is all about?"

"Sure," Summers shoots back. "Might as well die with all the cards in your hand, right?"

Rhodes manages to keep his breathing even. "Right."

Darcy didn't expect anyone to be awaiting her at the front door. She'd already made her goodbyes to the people who mattered, to the ones who cared. But when she approaches the front door with her bags in hand, she finds Agent Coulson awaiting her.

"Thought you were heading out?"

"I am." He says firmly. "Agents Barton and Romanov begin their mission at 0800."

"I have to say I'm impressed you managed to finagle you're way into that." She chuckles a little, and thinks maybe his eyes are smiling back. Watching him at that emergency meeting only last night, insisting that he go along with Barton and Romanov, had been nuts. Somehow the three of them were going to single handedly rescue the people Division X took, and she doesn't envy them the job. "Y'know, you did just get out of the hospital. Maybe you should lay low."

"My people are in jeopardy." He states evenly. "I won't sit by while their lives are in danger."

Slowly, Darcy nods. "Fair point."

He nods, and then his eyes drift to her bag. "Going somewhere?"

"Going home." She starts to move away from the front porch, towards the cab she called. "I did have a life, y'know, before all this? College and all that?" She turns back to look at him, shrugs. "Figures it's about time I got back to it."

"And this has nothing to do with Jane Foster."

She fumbles. Hesitates. Saying 'no' would definitely be a lie. Can anyone blame her? Before Thor, with Selvig and Jane, life had been fun. She'd really enjoyed working with them, even if most of it went over her head, and it was all just for a few credit hours. But after Thor? Working with SHIELD, really getting into the thick of it? That had been amazing - but the best part had been Jane. With Selvig and Thor both gone, it had just been the two of them, and they'd been inseparable for months. They'd become so close... but no matter how close they'd become, they were never as close as Darcy would've liked.

"Yeah. Maybe." She stays facing away from Coulson. "She doesn't need me anymore. What else do I have to hang around for?"

"SHIELD could use you." Darcy can't help but snort at that.

"For what? Delivering coffee and making copies?"

"You've proven yourself in very dangerous and delicate situations. You have a level head and a keen mind. I'd hire you."

Darcy does turn, eyeing Coulson up and down. He's serious. "Look - that's great and all, but -" Sighing, she runs a hand through her hair. "I've got to do my own thing. I can't just hang around here, waiting -" Waiting for what's never going to happen. Being in love with someone who doesn't love her. "My life has been on hold for more than a year. It's time I picked it back up again."

After a moment, Coulson nods. He steps down the stairs to her. "Here's my card." He simply says, and hands her a business card. "Call if you change your mind."

Just like that, he's gone, and she's alone with the cab. She looks up at the big mansion, wondering for half a second what it might be like to stay. But she doesn't belong here - she's not an Avenger, and she can't spend her whole life pining for a girl who doesn't love her, and can't continue to torture herself by being around her. So, she's leaving. And that's that. It's the right choice, after all.

So why does it hurt so much?

"This is ridiculous." Steve says for the seventh time. "I can't believe we're doing this."

"Shut up and deal with it, because you're doing it." Tony retorts, adjusting his tie.

"Rhodey has been kidnapped, and people are trying to kill you, and we're -"

"Doing everything we can about it, Cap." Pleased with the tie, he steps back, brushing Steve's suit jacket off. "Bruce and I are doing research into this shit, trying to piece it together, and Clint, Natasha, and Coulson are all off pulling the secret rescue mission of the century. Until it's time to start smashing heads, you and Thor really aren't needed. So, go have fun. Somebody ought to."

Steve's frowning very deeply, as if he feels he's failed America, and Tony rolls his eyes. "Seriously? What do you want to do, sit at home and worry all night? That helps exactly no one."

The man actually starts biting his lip, and holy shit, it's off the charts on the adorable meter. "We could be helping. I just - I feel so selfish going on a date when there are people who need us."

Tony puts his hands on Steve's shoulders, and tries to catch his gaze. "Steve. Seriously. If I thought you could be of any help right now, I would tell you to stay. I'm saying there's really nothing you can do. Until we know where these guys are or where they're striking next, we can't do anything. And Natasha and Clint have the Division X side covered. For now, we're fine." Then he brushes off Steve's shoulders and steps back. "Besides, you look damn good. Be a sin to waste that look on a night in."

Steve starts blushing at that, glancing in the mirror as if it were a traitor to all that's holy. But it's the truth - Steve looks good. He's wearing an older styled suit in black, with a light blue button up shirt that literally matches his eyes because Tony's that good and he's made of money.

"You sure you -"

"Steve, keep talking and I will hot glue your shield to the helicarrier. See if I don't."

That manages to make the man smile, a little. "I don't think hot glue will stick to vibranium."

"Hey! You know what hot glue is! I am really proud."

They continue to bicker in a light hearted fashion all the way up to the first floor front hall, where Thor already awaits them.

Tony whistles at the sight. "Damn, I didn't know they made suits in 'Asgardian Prince' sizes." He pats the man's arm in a friendly fashion. "Looking good."

Steve is definitely blushing now, but the surprising thing is, so is Thor. Tony was almost positive there was nothing that could turn those princely cheeks pink, but apparently he was wrong. He steps back and watches the two men pretty much gawking over each other and fumbling for words, and they're so wrapped up in one another that they don't notice the third arrival in the room.

"Very nice!" Tony calls out, and that catches their attention. They both turn to see Jane entering in a long red dress, a little flush of her own on her cheeks. Between the three of them, someone is going to burst a blood vessel. "Wonderful. We're all here. Now everyone trade corsages and gather up, Mommy's taking pictures."

"I don't think our very narrow-minded school system would allow three people to all be each other's dates to a prom, Tony." Bruce quips as he walks up - but hey, he has his phone out and is taking a picture, so at least he's listening.

"Lots of things schools don't allow that happen anyway, it's called putting it to the man."

"Tony, I'm pretty sure most people would consider you 'the man'."

They banter, and everyone laughs, and the trio of lovers blush some more, and then they are out the door - but not without Captain America trying to offer to stay home one last time.

"Steve Rogers, if you are back anytime before ten tonight consider yourself grounded!" He calls out in his best mock-parent voice, and then shuts the door behind the three. He fights the urge to simply fall against it and sink to the floor, and turns around.

Bruce is standing there, watching him, arms crossed. Concern is written in every line of his face.

"Are you okay?"

Tony lifts trembling hands to his face, rubs his eyes, and feels the facade of lightheartedness collapsing. He can't lie to Bruce, not now - maybe not ever. "No." He mutters as his hands fall. He's exhausted, frustrated, terrified, and so tired. "No, I'm not."

The words are barely out of his mouth before a strong, gentle hand has grasped his elbow and is leading him from the hall.

"Research can wait," Bruce insists. "You need a break before you collapse."

Tony starts to shake his head. "No, I've got to -"

"You've got to sleep before you die, Tony."

"Can't sleep." He mumbles. "Just - can't."

Bruce hesitates, glances up at his friend. "Do you - would company help?"

That's how the end up in Tony's bed, together. For the first few hours, Tony sleeps, rather soundly surprisingly enough, and every time he drifts awake Bruce is still there. Around nine he finally wakes up for good, and looks up to see his guardian still sitting watch.

"Y'know," Tony's lying on the right side, barely under the blankets, wearing only sweatpants. "This isn't usually how I get people into my bed."

Bruce's laughter is deep and rumbles, almost like the Hulk's voice. "I'll just bet."

"There's often a lot more sleazy behavior involved."

"Uh huh."

"Probably some money thrown around too."

"Never brought anybody home just because they liked you?"

"Nobody likes me." Tony snorts at that. He can feel the rage in Bruce's eyes directed at him, and he rolls his own. "I mean, besides you."

"And the rest of the Avengers."

"Most people like Tony Stark, the billionaire, the flashy genius, not - not Tony."

"I'm noticing you haven't confirmed 'the rest of the Avengers'."

"People don't like me."

"Except people do, because hey! The rest of the Avengers."

Bruce swats his arm, and Tony snorts and swats him back. "Stop it. You don't - I mean, they tolerate me. Which is more than most people do. But they don't actually like me. And Rhodey and Pepper like me sometimes, but most days I'm pushing all the wrong buttons and pissing them off, too."

"So," He hears movement, and turns to see Bruce rolling onto his side. He's on top of the blankets, still in his clothes. The sight is disheartening, but then, he knew he never actually had a chance to get Bruce Banner in his bed. "What you're saying is, you think I'm the only one who likes you?"

"Yeah," Suddenly Tony feels fear tighten around his heart. "I mean, you do, ... right?"

A sigh. "I don't know what to do with you." That sends a spike of pain right through him, until Bruce keeps speaking and he realizes the humorous intent for what it is. "Half the time you're full of yourself and the other half you're so self-flagellating -"

"Self-flagellating? Is that like self pleasuring? Flagellating sounds like a naughty word."

"Only if you're into being verbally abused while you get off."

"Dunno," Tony shrugs. "Never tried it." They fall silent, eyes glued on each other, completely frozen. Tony realizes he's never been this close to Bruce before, never this relaxed and at peace.

"Whole house is empty, you know." Tony mutters. He's not sure why he says it. His eyes are half closed, and he thinks that maybe he's doing his seductive voice without meaning to. He really, really doesn't mean to - because yeah, he really cares about Bruce maybe more than he should, but he knows he can't have this. He isn't meant to have this.

"Yeah," Bruce replies. He snuggles down into the bed, his glasses going slightly askew, and before Tony knows what he's doing, he reaches out and adjusts them. Halfway through the motion he seems to realize what he's done and he stops, but that's worse because suddenly his hand is just floating there, right next to Bruce's cheek, and they're in his bed, and they have the house to themselves, and this probably looks really bad -

"This probably looks really bad," Tony starts and he knows he's speaking too fast, too hyper. "I mean, talking about the house being empty, and getting into your space, and getting you into my bed, but I promise I'm not - I mean - I'm not trying to fuck you, I wouldn't - I'm not that selfish."

Bruce's eyes have grown twice their usual size, and he's blushing pretty strongly. Another time, and Tony might've enjoyed that. "I didn't follow that train of thought. At all."

Sighing, Tony retracts his hand (very reluctantly). He doesn't want to explain this. He hates thinking about it. But he dug his grave and he's gotta lie in it, right? "I'm not trying to seduce you, I didn't mean - I wouldn't do that to you. Or the Avengers. This - it's important."

Yeah, he's stupid and he's fucked all sorts of people he shouldn't for all kinds of reasons that he shouldn't, but that was the old him. He actually hasn't fucked anybody beside his hand since Pepper, but there's no way anyone would believe that, and this really does look like one of his old set ups. One of his easy, fuck-em-and-leave-em things. But this is Bruce, a teammate and his closest friend and he wouldn't do that to him, and he needs Bruce to believe him, that he wouldn't use him like that, would never use him like that, ever.

"I didn't think you were trying to seduce me, Tony." Bruce chuckles a little, mouth slightly upturned. His hand reaches out and takes hold of the hand Tony pulled back. "You're hurting, and you're afraid, and you're looking for comfort. That's fine."

No - No! He doesn't want it, not like this, not Bruce giving him a pity fuck because he's the weak Avenger who can't stop getting hurt. He snatches his hand back. "No, thanks."

"That's not what I -" Another sigh, and Bruce drops his own hand. "I meant that you're looking for comfort, like - like with a friend. Just like how we're lying here now and just talking. I wasn't implying anything... sexual." He says 'sexual' like it's a disgusting word and yeah, right now that's the last thing Tony wants, but the fact that Bruce associates 'sexual' with 'disgusting' when it comes to Tony still fucking hurts.

They fall quiet again, and this time it's nowhere near relaxed or peaceful, like before. Tony lets his gaze drop. Of course he fucked this up. He fucks everything up, in the end.

"I need a drink," He starts to stand, and a hand reaches out and takes hold of his elbow.

"Tony," Bruce starts, his eyes so bright and pleading they're like stars pulling him in. "Don't. Just... lie with me. I won't try anything, I promise.

He won't...? "I'm the one who's supposed to say that."

Bruce cocks an eyebrow. "Who says?"

"Uh, everyone?" Tony laughs but it's not good laughter. "I'm the sex-obsessed lecher remember?"

"No, I definitely do not remember that." Bruce insists firmly. "Now, can we please go back to the bantering and resting?"

Yeah, he wants to go back to that. He wants to not ruin this, to not constantly make things harder between them. He wants a lot of things he can't have.

He's been thinking a lot, since this all started. The Avengers, they - being one has been really good for him. He doesn't know what he'd do without it. More than that, he can't imagine his life without one particular Avenger anymore, without Bruce Banner, and that's dangerous, because Tony Stark is very good at ruining things. He's certain he's going to ruin this, and it will destroy him in ways he'll never recover from.

Swallowing, Tony puts his head back down on the pillow, tries to ignore his skyrocketing heartbeat.

"Tony? Tony, really, what's up?"

When he lifts his gaze, he knows he's got tears in his eyes. "Bruce, um - god I can't do this."

"What is it?" Bruce starts sitting up. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

Tony, following suit, pulls himself up against the headboard. "No, um - yeah? I don't -" Sighing, he runs a hand down his face. God, what is he doing? This is nuts! "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what, Tony?"

Bruce is sitting up, glasses slightly tilted, hair flat on one side from laying down, his clothes rumpled and his cheeks flushed, and he's the most beautiful thing Tony's ever seen. He's perfect, and divine, and Tony would like nothing better than to tear off all his clothes and devour him, or just wrap him up in his arms and tug him in tight and never let go. He wants to love him slowly, to hear him laugh every day, to give him everything he's every wanted, hand him happiness on a platter - it's such a strong, passionate, overwhelming feeling that it bursts the dams in his eyes and he cries.

"Tony?" Bruce's voice is low, trembling, and he moves right into Tony's space, one hand clutching his wrist and the other rising to his cheek. "Tony, you -" He's staring at the tears like they're tragedies themselves, and then his eyes met Tony's and Tony wonders how he manage to avoid this for so long, how in the world he controlled himself all this time, because he can't, not anymore, not now.

"Ton -" Bruce doesn't finish - Tony swallows the word, presses his lips against Bruce's gently and softly for a moment, then pulls away. He's shaking head to foot, feels like throwing up, he's burning up and he's lightheaded, and everything is perfect and terrible and he is such an idiot -

"God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I -"

Hands cup his face and lips seize his, pull him in tight and they're not kissing, this is making out, this is eating each other's faces. Tony can do that, he can stop thinking and just go for it, tongues and teeth clashing. Bruce tastes like salt - or maybe that's the tears - and something sharp and bitter, maybe like coffee or chemicals, and it's wonderful because it's Bruce, and Tony never imagined he'd have this, not even for a moment.

The break apart but they're right in each other's spaces, mouth to mouth, and Tony starts gabbering. "I'm not trying to use you, I promise, this isn't about sex -"

"Tony -"

"You mean so much to me, this is more than just sex or fucking I promise, I promise -"

"Tony -"

"Please." Tony lifts his hands, frames Bruce's face in his own. "Please believe me, this is - you have to believe me."

A hand covers his. "You don't have to convince me of anything, Tony." He wants to believe Bruce, wants to, but he's currently on the verge of having a panic attack and he's pretty sure he just made a terrible mistake because he ruins everything - even if Bruce did kiss him back which what the hell someone explain that -

"Tony, calm down. It's okay." Another hand covers his, and presses hard, reassuringly. "It's okay." Bruce falls quiet, then smiles. "I have to go get something." Panic strikes again, but those hands squeeze his. "I'm coming back! I promise. I just need to show you this." Bruce pulls away, slowly, and Tony lets him go because he needs a minute to process all this, to return to himself and find his voice again. What the hell just happened?

The room falls quiet after Bruce leaves. Tony takes a minute to breath, feeling somewhat hysterical. A choked laugh escapes him. This - what does this mean? God, his life is so confusing.

"What a tender moment."

Tony leaps to his feet, spinning around and on alert in an instant. "JARVIS -"

"Is not currently operational, I'm afraid." A figure steps into the room from the balcony, through the doors which are supposed to be locked and protected with a state of the art security system. "One of my many talents." The figure is tall, wearing a long cloak and a helmet of some sort. He turns towards Tony and the inventor sees a wizened face with serious eyes, and he is sure he knows who this is.

"Erik Lensherr." He narrows his eyes at the man's deep chuckle.

"Very good." He turns, paces towards Tony. Tony holds his ground. "I am impressed by you, you know. I had not imagined you would come so close to the truth. But it seems you, - what's the saying? - can't see the forest for the trees?"

Tony is really lost, and confused, and he's a little shaky because this has been a weird day and he can't reach Bruce or JARVIS and the armors are downstairs -

"What do you want?" Tony spits out. "To kill me?"

"Kill you?" Lensherr chuckles, coming to a stop about five feet from Tony. The man tries his best not to quake. Lensherr has an aura that is almost deadly, an air about him that screams 'danger, run away screaming'. He's fighting that feeling tooth and nail. "Killing you means nothing to me."

"Then why?" Anger gets the best of him, as it usually does. "What the hell is all this for? Destroying my house, hacking my suit, breaking my reactor? What was it for?"

"All part of the plan, Mr. Stark." Lensherr crosses his arms, staring at him from under that ungodly helmet, eyes narrowed. "You are part of a much bigger picture. Taking you down is simply... a means to an end."

"What end?" Tony clenches his fists. "What the hell do I or any of the Avengers have to do with your little war against Division X?"

The man shrugs almost lackadaisically. "Absolutely nothing." He admits. "But my war on mankind? Quite a great deal." Tony says nothing. For once, he's honestly not sure what to say. He'd been looking at this as a grudge match, a feud between factions, but he was missing some variables, it seems. Lensherr seems willing enough to fill in the gaps, he's got a dramatic flare if the helmet and cape are anything to go by, so Tony shuts his trap and lets him talk.

"It is the darker nature of living things to fear what they cannot control. Division X fights us now, but soon the world will follow after. I am simply making a preemptive strike."

"You're starting a war no one wants." Tony insists. "Division X might be full of nutjobs, but you want to fight the whole damn planet?"

"Do you really think I want to?" Lensherr snaps back. "I have no choice. Humanity has given us no choice. Mutants will have no peace until they take it, by force, from the humans who would hold them down. That is what I am doing."

Snorting, Tony crosses his arms. The more the man talks, the more convinced Tony is that he's missing some marbles. "By killing me?"

"By killing hope." Lensherr smirks again, his earlier agitation fading. "By destroying their hopes. The Avengers mean quite a great deal to humanity now, you know. When I realized this, I knew that humanity's first line of defense against us - against mutants - would be you."

"And what makes you think we'd fight you?" Tony smirks back, trying not to be intimidated. This is his house, damn it. He's got the home team advantage. And Bruce will be back any minute. If he can keep this wacko talking long enough. "I'm not into attacking people for who they are. When they attack me, though, that's a whole other ball game."

"Don't play with me, boy." Lensherr begins to walk again, pacing in a circle around Tony. Tony holds his ground, turns his head. "If humanity calls, the Avengers will follow. So long as your team thrives, the humans have a very power ally in their corner. Your destruction benefits a greater purpose."

"Okay, fine, kill me for a better future, whatever, this is getting boring." Tony frowns deeply, bothered more than he'll admit that this man immediately assumed they'd just attack whoever cause the government or somebody said so. They aren't attack dogs. They have morals, for god's sakes!

Dark laughter interrupts his train of thought. "I've told you, Mr. Stark. I'm not here to kill you." It's only then that he notices the other person on the balcony. She steps into the room, stark red hair and blue skin, wearing nothing but her birthday suit.

"I'm guessing your mutant power is the ability to consume endless amounts of hair gel?" Because her hair is so slicked back there's no way that's natural... probably.

The mutant frowns, but it quickly becomes a smirk and before his eyes she transforms - into him, reactor and all.

"Ooookay." For the first time, he is really, truly terrified - scared for his team, for his people. "You're not killing me, you're - replacing me." Now is maybe the time to start thinking of an ingenious plan of escape. Bruce, where are you?

"Warmer." Lensherr stops nexts to the fake-Stark, looking the double over admiringly. "Amazing, isn't she? This gift she's been given, what she's been forced to hide for humanity's scruples. Humans would have her chained in a lab given half a chance."

He can't deny that - Division X is proof of that. "I can help you," He says, and he means it. "I've got the resources and the power, we can fight this."

Lensherr looks up, meets his eyes with a deadened stare that chills him to the bone. "Even if I did believe you, Mr. Stark, it is much to late for that." Then, he lifts his hand, and waves it through the air. Tony stares for a moment, unsure of what's happening, and then suddenly something's flying in through the open balcony and -

"What the hell are you doing with my suit?" Tony asks breathlessly. He's more and more confused by the second, and he's really not sure he likes where this is going, and he's actually a little afraid he's not going to be able to stop this, and where the hell is Bruce -? With no other options, he leaps over the bed and tries hoofing it to the door -

"GOD DAMMIT!"

Sudden, blazing pain erupts in his heart, right beneath the arc reactor, and he looks down and sees the light still shining, but - but it's being pulled out of his damn chest, it's being removed, and he can't push it back in - he strains with all his might but he can't do it, it moves further and further until it's almost out - it starts to move, and he's forced to follow along, straining as he does, pain flickering through his chest -

"Do settle down, Mr. Stark." Lensherr quips, his hand drifting through the air, making the suit dance, as his other hand gestures him forward. "There's really nothing you can do now."

Tony watches, eyes drifting from the man's hand, to the suit, trying to think through the pain, gathering data, remembering months of work, past incidences. "The forest for the trees," He whispers. He couldn't see the forest for the trees. He was focusing on trying to discover a power, mental or physical, that could bend matter and hack computers and control things across distance when in reality, he was focused too closely, when all those things could be done with a simple trick of - "Magnetism." Horror pervades him, true terror, and he feels the reactor quake in his chest.

"About time." Fake Tony laughs. She's putting an earpiece in her ear, and then she attaches a receiver inside the helmet of the suit.

"Really, Mr. Stark." His enemy says almost placating. "Do you see now? It was always hopeless. All your efforts in vain." Tony's being pulled closer and closer, until the man reaches out and touches his reactor and Tony visibly recoils but it hurts so much. "Given who I am, and who you are... you and your metal heart... were never a match for me."

"BRU -" A piece of metal slaps over his lips. The reactor returns to his chest, and suddenly the armor's flying over him, onto him.

"You see," Lensherr watches intently as the process continues. "I research my opponents well. The Avengers are a solid team but everything has their weak spots. Captain America, the SHIELD Agents, the Asgardian prince - they are pristine images, heroic, well meaning. But you and Dr. Banner? The public has a much different view of you, given your... histories."

"The tarnish of your past, and his, is what will be the Avengers downfall. To put it quite simply..." Lensherr stands right in front of him, and Tony can't move anymore, the armor is out of his control, JARVIS is gone, god dammit what's happening!? "You're both monsters. The world already believes it of you. I'm simply going to prove them right." Tony's crying, and shaking, and Lensherr chuckles. "I can see you don't understand. It's truly simple."

"I will destroy the Avengers on the inside, by having them tear each other apart - starting with the two most unreliable members. Really, Mr. Stark?" Lensherr touches his neck with some kind of needle, injects him, then begins to back up. "Why did you have to be so irresponsible? Everyone knows you drink too much. But drinking in the suit?" He clicks his tongue. "The truly tragic part was leaving you home alone with the Hulk, with no one to protect you. And really, who can blame him for fighting back when the Iron Man started firing upon him?"

No no no no no please no

Lensherr smirks when he sees the realization, the fear, the helplessness flood Tony's eyes. Then the helmet goes on his head.

"I will say, the irony is quite tragic." Lensherr begins again. "You fell in love with the monster, and now he's going to kill you, and then the rest of your team shall chase him to the ends of the earth for revenge. How terrible. I almost feel bad." The man smirks again, lifting his hand, and the suit moves as he wills it.

No anything but this please god no

"Your lover needs you, Mr. Stark." Lensherr says. "Let's not keep him waiting."