Wincing in pain, Snow looks down, where blood pooled around the dagger he'd left. Pushing the paper into her pocket subconsciously, Snow takes hold of the dagger's hilt, slowly pulling out, squeezing her eyes shut at the slicing pain and trying not to scream.

Finally out, Snow exhales in relief, shutting her eyes and focusing all her magic on healing as quick as possible.

Once the wound fully vanished, carefully, Snow pushed up to her feet, dagger still in hand.

Agents then flooded the room, rushing towards her, asking if she was okay. She nods along.

Snow then notes a limping agent. She places the dagger in the back of her belt. Hastily, she approaches him. "I can heal that for you," she explains, confusing him as she placed a hand on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Slowly, the agent feels the pain in his leg fade away, looking down. He gives a test, very capable of moving it. He turns to Snow with wide eyes. She gives him a tired smile, heading off to see if anyone else needed a hand.

A few minutes later, she comes across a very distraught Fury. She hurries to him. "Nick," she calls. He turns to her, relieved that she was alright, not that he expected anything to happen to her. "You okay?" she asks. He nods.
"Yeah," he replies, clearly upset. Snow guessed that they must have lost a lot of numbers. She grimaces. "You?" he retorts, pointing a look at the giant blood stain on the side of her abdomen.
"It's nothing," she says quickly. It was not the time to bring him, or the fact that he'd let her live, up.

Nick could see dismiss in her eyes. There was something she wasn't telling him, but he didn't push. "Okay, well, get cleaned up. I wanna see you, Rogers, and Stark, in twenty," he says.
"What about the others?" she asks in confusion.
"Banner's in the wind. But we know he's alright," he starts, she nods knowingly, "Thor too." That surprises her.
"What happened to Thor?" she inquiries worriedly.
"Well, the cell's gone. We can only assume that Loki had somehow put him in, and dropped it," he says. Her face falls. She eyes around as if perplexedly.
"What about agent Hill, and Romanoff?"
"Hill's alright. Romanoff too. She managed to bring agent Barton back to his senses. She's with him now," he tells. Snow nods in relief.
"And agent Coulson?"

At that, Nick grows silent.

Coulson was well and alive. But that wasn't what he'd planned to tell them. Snow, Steve, all of them.

Loki had escaped. Thor and Banner were gone. The Helicarrier in dismay, and a lot of agents were killed. Nick felt as though his fighters weren't giving it all they've got.

He felt that they needed a push.

Nick was well aware that Phil held special meaning to each and every one of them.

What happens when they are shown that losing loved ones was very possible in this scenario?

"Nick?" she calls after several seconds of silence.
"…He

…didn't make it,"

Nick replies sorrowfully.

Snow attempts to process what had just been said. She felt her heart sink by acknowledging every word.

Phil was gone.

Phil.

The agent with the gentle smile.

…A friend.

Gone.

She wasn't entirely aware why hearing of his loose affected her so much, bearing tears to her eyes.

Snow nods slowly, giving off the reaction that Nick was hoping he'd get.

She then leaves to her room.

Maybe she blamed herself. Maybe she could have done more. Maybe she could have been there.

Maybe it was her fault…

Snow crawls to her bed-edge, and seats herself. She feels something poke at her back, and reaches to pull it out.

Loki's dagger. The one he'd stabbed her with, still tainted in her blood.

The one he also could have killed her with.

But didn't.

Snow got up, snatching several tissues from the plain box on the solid desk in her room. She then whips at the dagger's metallic surface, regaining its luster.

The weapon's blade adapted the shape of waves, the sharpest from all edges. Engravings she was unable to comprehend covered its whole figure.

There was a certain beauty to such a deadly instrument. And that fact immediately clicked a certain memory in her thoughts. Like a quick flash back.

His eyes.

They reflected a million stories. She only noticed when he was close enough. Ironically, when he was holding a dagger to her side.

Snow quickly shook the non-coordinate thoughts away. She shut her eyes and sighed, resting both fists on the desk's cold surface, wondering what in the world she was doing.

Shaking that off as well, Snow entered the adjacent bathroom, jumping into the shower, washing down sweat, blood, and pure exhaustion.

She only had an extra shirt packed, so she put that on, along with the same pair of trouser, which, thankfully, were still intact, and the white, soft-cotton blazer she'd left in the room hours ago.

Then she heads out.

XXXXX

Snow enters the meeting room. She glimpses Tony and Steve, already seated, lost in thought. They acknowledge her presence and smile politely. She smiles back, then takes a seat near Steve.

Two minutes of pure silence pass. None able to speak a word to the other.

They'd lost half the team,

and beard one dead.

It was suffocating.

It was guilt-filling.

Approaching steps grasp their attention for a mere second. Agent Hill follows Nick down the path, then stands to the side, as he takes position in sight of three of his remaining champions, who look away, almost in shame.

Nick reaches into his leather-coat pocket, and pulls out a set of small card, fiddling with them unreadably.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket," he starts, feigning sorrow. Steve and Snow turn to Nick sadly. Tony refuses to meet his eye. "Guess he never did get you to sign them." He tosses them across the table to Steve, small splatters of blood decorating them, causing Snow to look away, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Steve eyes the cards in agony, reaching over to take one, as if allowing it to strike him with guilt he felt necessary.

"We're dead in the air up here…Our communications, the location of the cube…Banner. Thor," Nick resumes, feeding into the fire in their chests, "I got nothing for you…Lost my one good eye…

Maybe I had that coming…"

Snow shakes her leg impatiently with every word, tearing at her lip with her nails in frustration.

"Yes. We were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract," Nick confesses. They turn to him, listening intently. "I never put all my chips on that number, though.

Cause I was playing something even riskier.

There was an idea,

Stark knows this."

They turn to him. He doesn't look as he rolls his eyes tiredly. Nick continues.

"called

the Avengers initiative.

The idea, was to bring together a group of…

remarkable people,

see if they could become

something more.

To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight the battles

that we never could."

Nick eyes each and every one of them intently, reading their expressions.

Snow seemed heavy in thought, thoughts of who she was, what she could become, what she could do for others.

Steve let the words fill him with hope, and confidence, for a safer tomorrow.

But Tony?

Nick's speech had the exact opposite effect on him. Out of the three of them, Tony knew Phil the most. It was too much for him.

Snow was right when she'd sensed fear in him the most. He was afraid. Afraid of failing.

Afraid of not being good enough.

Afraid of letting people like Phil die.

Afraid.

Nick could see that too. And that was why his next words were directed specifically at Tony. "Phil Coulson died, still believing in that idea.

In heroes."

At that, Tony is unable to tolerate more words. He jerks from his seats, and storms off to the holding cell, uncertain why.

Steve and Snow watch him in concern. Nick eyes him in slight disappointment.

"Well, it's an old fashioned notion," he states.

Or maybe there was still hope.

Nick watches as Snow rises to her feet, and Steve follows. The two head after their lost teammate, to pull him back to sense.

XXXXX

"Tony," Snow calls softly, approaching him where he stood, right above the abyss the cell had left behind it.

He turns to her warily as she steps towards him, and Steve leans on a fence a few feet away from them. "Are you okay?" she asks.

Tony gives a thoughtful nod. "Umm. No. No, I'm not okay," he tells honestly. She smiles at him in sympathy.
"Was he married?" Steve asks Stark curiously, trying to reach out.
"No…There was a cellist, I think," he replies nonchalantly.
"I'm sorry," Steve tells as Snow puts an assuring hand on Tony's shoulder. He flashes her a quick, grateful smile. "He seemed like a good man."

At that, Tony scoffs. He walks off, saying: "He was an idiot."

The two furrow their eyebrows at him. "Why?" Steve asks. "For believing?"
"For taking on Loki alone," the frustrated Stark replies.

Taking on Loki.

It was all about that, wasn't it?

It was what they were brought here to do.

"He was doing his job, Tony," Snow tells sorrowfully. Tony turns to her.
"He was out of his league. He should have waited!...he should of…" he scoffs again, unable to find the words.
"Sometimes, there isn't a way out, Tony," Steve tells, approaching him as well.
"Right," he replies in sarcasm, "I've heard that before." He is about to head back out.
"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" asks Rogers.

Getting sick of his army references, Tony halts his steps, turning to Steve, utterly serious. "We are not soldiers!" he exclaims. Snow hurries towards them.
"Easy," she warns calmly. Tony eyes her intently.
"I'm not marching to Fury's fife," he tells her.
"None of us are," she steps forward, "We're not fighting for him. We're fighting…for the people who can't fend for themselves." They listen. "This isn't about Fury and what he wants. It's about what's at stake. We're the only ones capable...

of ending this."

Tony turns to the floor in thought as Steve nods in full agreement. "Right. Now, Loki needs a power source," he starts. "If we can put together a list of-" Tony cuts him off.
"He made it personal," he says suddenly. They eye him in confusion.
"That's not the point," Steve says.
"That is the point," Snow says as well.

It made sense to her, just then, what his plan was.

"He hits us all right where we live. Why?" Tony offers.
"To tear us apart," Steve replies.

At that, Snow disagrees. She attempts to silently find the missing puzzle piece. They were missing something.

"Yeah. Divide and conquer is great, but…he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to beat us. He wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience," Tony speaks, walking off, brainstorming.

Snow wants to argue, but she was still missing something. What was it?

"Right. I caught his act in Stuttgart," Steve lays along, wanting to see what Tony was getting at.
"Yeah. That's just preview. This is…This is opening night! And, Loki, he's a full-tilt diva, right? He wants flowers. He wants parades. He wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered-…"

At that, Tony stops, Steve and Snow give him a knowing look.

"Son of a bitch," he utters, storming off.

Snow blocks his route, putting her hands up. "No," she says. Steve and Tony eye her in confusion. She eyes them intently. "You guys need to see the full picture," she says, pushing her hand into her pocket, alas remembering something of vast importance.

She brings out the crumbled piece of paper, and opens it up. Tony and Steve walk to her sides squinting their eyes at it, where words were written in italic hand-writing. "'The scepter is the key.'," Tony reads aloud. "What does that mean?"
"Loki placed in my hand, while stabbing me in the side," she rolls her eyes at how contradictory that sounded. Both men widen their eyes. "Yes, he made it personal. Not to weaken us.

To anger us.

Yes. He's doing it in style. But his style. The only way he knows how to fight. He's trying not to raise suspicions.

Guys.

He doesn't want to win," she says.

Tony and Steve take a moment to process her words.

"He gave you this?" Tony asks in disbelief.
"Yes," Snow stresses.
"What does he mean, 'The scepter is the key.'?" Steve questions.
"I don't know. I guess we'll find out."

The two aren't sure what to say, nor what to think. On one hand, there was all they'd lost in this one small battle against Loki and his men, and on the other hand, there was Snow's claim that Loki was not the head of this demon, but a slave to it, and that he was actually trying to help.

Even though the words stared them right in the face, they were not fully convinced, for actions witnessed were more believed, and Loki's action didn't bode well so far.

But Snow was a good person. They didn't want to argue with her. Maybe too good of a person. They half-suspected she wrote those words herself.

Either way, it would soon be proven.

"Then, what are we waiting for?" pushes Tony.

XXXXX

"Thanks," says a well-aware Clint to his best friend. Natasha flashes him smile.

Oh, how she'd missed his face. Those eyes.

She'd missed him.

Still, she tried not to show it.

As she fiddled with the leather cuffs he was tied to on the small bed, Clint spoke. "Natasha," he uttered quietly, playing at her heart-strings. She doesn't look. "How many agents did I-" he starts. She cuts him off, knowing where this was going.
"Don't," she says firmly, eyeing him intently. "Don't do that to yourself, Clint," she tells, using a tone Clint wasn't used to hearing. This care. This fear?

(Author Speaking: For those of you who have seen 'Avengers: Age of Ultron', where, turns out, Clint was actually married and had three kids and lives on a farm! Yeah, that's not happening in my story. He's single. And has been crushing on Nat since forever!)

"This is Loki…This is monsters, and magic, and nothing we were ever trained for," she says. Clint's face falls serious.
"Loki. He get away?" he asks.
"Yeah," she replies irritably. "Don't suppose you know where," she offers. Clint shakes his head in disappointment.
"Didn't need to know. Didn't ask," he says.

Natasha rises to her feet and heads towards the window, looking out into the empty hall, mind wandering for the next step.

"He's gonna make his paly soon, though…Today," he tells grimly. Natasha snaps to him.

Snow might have taken Loki's side, but after the conversation Natasha had with him. It was the last thing she was willing to do.

Oh, with her, he made it beyond personal.

So, why did he do it? Why did he speak to her so cruelly, about someone she cared about so deeply?

In truth, Loki was simply trying

to seem convincing,

to the demons that watched him.

He knew he seemed suspicious when he spoke with Snow first, then he found Natasha to compensate for that.

Besides, personally, Loki wasn't a very big fan of spies.

Either way, it set a fire in Natasha's heart.

The more they hated him, the better, in his mind. He needed their hatred, to do what had to be done.

To kill him.

"We have to stop him," she says firmly.
"Yeah? Who's 'we'?" Clint asks back.
"I don't know. Whoever's left," she replies.

Clint could sense desperation in her tone. He didn't think he'd ever seen her this upset. Just what in the world happened to his girl?

Maybe he could lighten her mood. "Well…if I put an arrow through Loki's eye-socket. I'd, sleep better I suppose," he says, causing a smirk to grow on her ever-glowing features. She turns back to sit next to him on the bed's edge.
"Now you sound like you," she says, joyous that she'd managed to get him back in one piece.

Clint turns to her once more and smiles softly. He was the only person on the face of the earth that actually got her, understood her. She knew that, and it was part of the many reasons her heart felt for him.

There was something different about her though, something cold. It worried him. "But you don't," he says honestly. Her face falls. "You're a spy. Not a soldier. Now, you want to…wade into a war…Why?" he asks.

She was struggling with something, and he wanted to be there for her, like he always was, like she always was for him.

"What did Loki do to you?"

Natasha winces.

But

the warmth in his eyes was so appealing, it made it so hard to be scared. Natasha smiles softly at him.

But she was scared. Scared of losing him.

She looks away, unable to control her aching heart anymore, the one that caused tears to bream her eyes, that made her feel weak inside.

But when Clint reached to touch her face, pull it to meet his eyes, the fear was gone. All she could see, was a reflection of her feelings in his orbits. And that terrified her.

But he could see that too.

For so long, Clint had bottled up his feelings for her. Had waited. He knew she was fragile. He knew what she'd been through. He knew how much getting close to someone, to him, scared her. He knew.

But you know what, after heading off with Loki, he never thought he'd make it back, and the only thing that scared him then, was not getting the chance to tell her how he truly felt. To show her that she was loved. That she was worth loving.

No more waiting.

Clint brushed her lower lip with his thump, causing her to quiver at his touch. Nat froze as Clint neared her, till an inch was their only separator.

And then, he closed completely.

Natasha felt the air in her lungs flee. Clint could barely comprehend that it had finally happened. But soon enough, they both acknowledged just who they were kissing, and the hesitance disappeared.

Natasha pushed further against his lips, engulfing them with her own, making his heart race madly as he moved one hand down and onto her lower back, pulling her closer, and the other supporting her head, caressing her soft, red locks.

They'd been with other people before, on missions at least, but nothing compared to being with one another, this closely, and this intimately, causing them to wonder why in the world they'd waited so long.

Unfortunately, they were unable to fully satisfy their long awaited longing, when Captain America himself appeared at their door way, that opened automatically, considering this was a public room.

The two pulled apart, Clint irritably, and Nat warily.

Steve stops. Face reddens. He stutters. "I, uh, sorry, uh," causing Nat and Clint to smirk.
"It's okay, Captain," Clint tells calmly, even though he was still pissed about the interruption. Steve had no idea who this was.
"What's going on?" Natasha asks, wondering why he was fully dressed again. He turns to her, getting back to topic as Clint got up, eyeing around for his bow.
"We're heading out," he says.
"Where?" Natasha asks, rising as well.
"We'll tell you on the way," he says. "Can you fly one of those jets?" he inquires.
"I can," Clint says, fiddling with an arrow.

Seeing the arrow, Steve is reminded by who he was. He gives Nat a glare. She nods in assurance.

Trust.

He turns back to Clint. "You gotta suit?"
"Yeah."
"Then suit up."

XXXXX

And so, the group aimed to get ready in the quickest time possible. Tony was patching up his almost un-patchable suit. Steve, and Clint, were suiting up. Nat, and Snow, were waiting for call.

Finally ready, the group meet at the middle-deck. Snow walks towards where Steve, Natasha, and an unfamiliar man conversed.

Approaching them, Snow sees a shimmer in Nat's eyes that wasn't there before. She smiles, able to determine exactly who the gentlemen with the bow and arrows was.

They acknowledge her presence. "Where's your suit?" Steve asks Snow in concern.
"You'll see," she replies almost mischievously. He doesn't get it.
"Stark, we're set," Steve tells through the earpiece.
"Well, pick up pace. I'll see you air-high," Tony replies.

"You must be Clint," Snow puts out her hand graciously, causing Clint to smile brightly at her politeness, and Nat to tense, knowing that Snow knew all about her feelings.
"That I am. And you must be the infamous Snow White," he shakes her hand, raising an amused eyebrow at her name.
"That I am," she grins.
"Alright then. Let's move."

XXXXX

And so they went, without informing anyone but themselves. Not even Nick, who, of course, watched them take off, immediately ordering for communications to be put back up, whatever it would take.

"Okay, so what's the plan?" asks Clint, piloting the jet they'd stolen.
"First, Tony's gonna try destroying the portal. If that doesn't work, we go to plan B," Steve tells.
"And what's plan B?" inquires Clint.
"We fight," Tony replies on the coms. Steve rolls his eyes.
"Plan B, is Tony sneaks into the tower to get…a more functioning suit," he explains, they look to see that Tony is barely holding altitude when one of his rocket-boosters keeps malfunctioning. "Then

…yes.

We fight."

"Okay then," Clint replies, giving Nat, his co-pilot, an amused glance. She smirks back.

Alas, they reach the tower. Clint stops the jet a few ways off from it as Tony himself approaches the Portal-opener, where Dr. Selvig stood, working on it.

They also watch, as Tony attempts a shot, with all his power, only for it to backfire at him, sending him flailing about and causing his teammates to tense.

"Plan B," he calls over. They make ready.

Tony looks down, and sees Loki, smirking at him from the terrace. 'Show time,' he thinks to himself. Tony attempts a smooth landing down to his suit-remover. As it worked its way, Loki entered a glaring contest with the curious Stark, wondering what in the world he was doing.

Tony rehearsed his next few steps in his head, setting things in motion before his eyes. Though he was far from calm inside, he was good at playing it.

Tony then makes his way inside, somewhat hastily, before the God of Mischief made his presence known, entering from the terrace.

Loki smirks slightly, playing his own game. "Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity," he starts.

"Uh. Actually. I'm planning to threaten you," Tony says plainly. Loki cocks an amused eyebrow.

Two could play at this game.

"You should've left your armor on for that," he says.
"Yeah," Tony dismisses, walking down the few steps on top of the bar, trying to seem as unsuspicious as possible. "It's in a bit of a mileage. And you've got the glow stick of destiny," he states, giving the scepter a curious glance, attempting to figure out what his supposed written-words meant.

Loki looks to the scepter and smirks, wondering if Snow had passed on the message.

"Would you like a drink?" Tony asks, walking behind the bar, where he knew he kept the suit-engaging bracelets.

Him and his weird placings.

Loki turns to him knowingly. "Stalling me won't change anything," he says.
"No. No. No…Threatening," Stark corrects nonchalantly. Loki eyes him warily. "No drink? You sure?" he asks once more. Loki doesn't answer. "I'm having one."

Loki ignores him, turning to the transparent, glass walls. "The Chitauri are coming. Nothing…" he stresses, causing Tony to look as Loki stared at him intently, as if dropping a hint that Tony couldn't read, "will change that."

Letting another second pass, Loki looks away once more. "What have I to fear?" he asks.

No, really asks.

Status report. He would like to see just how many were now stood against him.

How many did he anger?

Were they enough to defeat him?

Tony, pops a whiskey bottle open as he said: "The avengers," eyeing for his reaction. Loki furrows his eyebrows at him.

The who?

Tony rolls his eyes. "It's what we call ourselves. We're sort of like a team. 'Earth's mightiest heroes.', type of thing."

Realization falls upon Loki's face.

"Yes," he smirks. "I've met them." Tony lets out a short laugh, finding the thought of kicking this clown's butt quite humorous.
"Yeah. It takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But, let's do a head-count here.

Your brother, the demi-god," Tony starts, causing Loki to suppress an eye-roll. It seemed his brother makes himself a name anywhere he goes. "A super-soldier, a living legend," he resumes as Loki gives him his back with disinterest. Tony jumps at the chance, and starts putting on the bracelets. "Who kinda lives up to the 'legend'.

A man with breath-taking anger-management issues. A couple of master assassins."

"Oh," he resumes, "And…Let's not forget about Snow," Tony says casually.

At that, almost unwillingly, Loki's face falls. He clenches his jaw in an attempt to keep from taking out the Stark there and then.

Tony watches his reaction like a hawk, attempting to read it. Being Tony, the wildest of thoughts ran its way into his mind, that Loki and Snow had this sorta forbidden love thing going on. He smirks.

Tony wanted to push it, but he hadn't forgotten what Snow had said to Thor from the start, that someone might be watching Loki, someone not of this world. He did not speak. He carried on.

"And you," he points, "big fella. You've managed to piss off every single one of them," he says grimly.
"That was the plan," Loki smirks.

That was always the plan.

"Not a great plan," Tony grins, approaching him with a drink in his hand, having finally worn the bracelets. "When they come.

And they will.

They'll come for you,"

he says, seriously this time.

Slowly, Loki approaches him as well. The God of Mischief was of keen eyes. He noted the odd bracelets the Stark suddenly had on. The great inventor.

Tony tenses, but doesn't show, even though Loki could sense it.

A foot away, Loki speaks. "That was always the plan," he says, like a part of him was desperate to prove his innocence, to someone, anyone who would believe it.

And for a minute,

Tony glimpses it.

But going back to his senses, Loki could only see one way out.

Let's see how powerful earth's mightiest heroes really are, at their angriest.

Without warning, Loki grasps Tony by the throat, shocking him to the core as he lifted him off the ground, and the Stark kept yelling at his AI to deploy.

When Loki hears a mechanical object open, it was then that he decides to throw Tony directly out of one of the glass walls, well-aware that he would survive, and come out further frustrated.

"Oh my god!" exclaims Clint, watching the Stark fall, and re-attracting the others' attention. But they are quickly put at ease, when they see Tony's suit pieces follow, clasp onto him, and transform him into the Iron Man once more.

Tony shoots back up to the window, where Loki patiently waited for a reaction. "And there's one other person you pissed off," he says. "His name was Phil."

Loki slowly aims his wand at Tony, secretly waiting for him to take the first shot. The Stark doesn't disappointment.

But it was mere child-play, barely enough to graze

the God of Mischief.

XXXXXXXXXX