AN: Semi-long author's note is semi-long, but please bear with me. First, I must apologize sincerely for the wait. I hadn't meant for it to go so long, but I got stuck writing the beginning of this chapter. Right, as I said last time, this is the end of the second "arc", so I'm going to start a new story and update this one every other week, as there aren't many chapters left of this one.

By popular demand, "Let Me See Your Claws" will get a second part to help close it out in a more fulfilling way and "Leopard Spots" will get a few, one-shot sequels in time for the holidays. However! If any of you have things you want in a Spots!Verse one-shot, I'm taking prompts. Any and all prompts are welcome, simply slip them into your reviews. I'm pretty sure that covers what I needed to say. Read, review and enjoy.

Warning For This Chapter Include: Major/Minor character death(depending on how you look at it), violence, language, disturbing/graphic imagery. Format for the memorial service at Arlington come from known facts, format for the memorial at the assassin's den is made up Any question regarding the latter can be directed to me.

Rhodey shows up months after the dancing lesson the team had walked in on. Everyone save Pepper and Tony, who are down in the lab discussing some plan or another, are sitting in the media room, arguing over whether or not they were going to play games or watch a movie. Natasha takes one look at him, the drawn face and fresh pressed military dress uniform, and her brow furrows only slightly, but Clint knows her well enough to know she's worried.

"Congress?" She asks him, like that single word holds all the problems for the inventor downstairs. Rhodey's face draws and he shakes his head sharply and she dare not ask because if it's not congress, then the envelope clutched in his hands can only mean one thing. He pads into the kitchen and returns a few minutes later with a steaming mug before he enters the elevator, leaving the rest of the team alone.

Rhodey could hear Tony's voice from the elevator, as well as Pepper's, both interspersed with whirring and chirping from Dummy, You and Butterfingers. All five of them, humans and bots alike, were bent over the table, where a flat hologram depicting something or the other lights up the otherwise dark room with a light blue glow.

Rhodey tabbed in his entrance codes and he watched Tony's head come up, followed quickly by the bots, a smile splitting his face. "Platypus!" He crowed gleefully, echoed by the whirring of his bots and Pepper's more sedate "James" before the inventor was across the room and hugging him.

Rhodey returned the embrace loosely, but his heart wasn't in it, and that was obvious to the more observant of the pair. "Is something wrong, James?" Pepper asked and Tony pulled back to look at his friend more closely, face furrowing.

"Rhodey?" He asked, voice seeking and Rhodes handed him the envelope after carefully removing his hands from his shoulders. Tony looked at the crest in the top right corner and bit his lip, tightly, using his fingernail to open the top of it.

The paper that he grabbed out was made of thick stock, rough against the callouses of his hands and he unfolded it, taking a deep breath when he read the first line out loud.

"Dear Mr. Stark,

We regret to inform you that Marine Corps. Captain Robert Z. Fick has been killed in action overseas-"

Was as far as he got before he dropped the letter, the words sticking in his throat, hands shaking. In the background he could hear Pepper's worried voice, the chirping of his bots, but his brain was frozen, unable to move past the print of the letter. Robert was dead.

The words hit him like a ton of bricks and a broken keening sound stuck in his throat, eyes filling against his will. He tried to tamp down on his emotions, face going slack as warm hands steered him towards something soft, something that took him a moment to recognize as the couch that occupied the far side of his lab.

"Tony? Tony can you squeeze my hand?"A soft voice said in his ear, one he briefly recognized as Pepper's. Why did she sound so panicked? He was right here. Belatedly he squeezed the fingers that rested in his palm, though the action was weak as a kitten's batting paws.

Tony zoned for a while, unsure whether he was there or not, floating in a haze of disbelief and grief, not unlike when his parent's had died. His fingers reflexively tightened for a moment and Tony realized his body was subconsciously holding a glass of scotch that wasn't actually there. Gentle hands grabbed his hand and massaged the fingers until they relaxed.

Tony came back to himself awhile later, and he's distressed to find himself still shivering and breathing slightly irregularly. There's something heavy and warm draped about his shoulders and he's sitting on something soft. There are two heavy sources of heat on either of his sides and he noticed that someone was speaking in his ear, voice soft and soothing.

He blinked again, looking to his left and coming face to face with a teary-eyed Anatassia and he'd gotten one arm wrapped around her waist unthinkingly. On her other side is a similarly distressed looking Brad, who's got on arm around Anatassia, the other in her lap, fingers twined with Tony's own.

They're both dressed in soft, well-worn looking pajama bottoms and tops, but Tony can see scrubs and lab coats and sneakers strewn on the floor around the bed, indicating that they'd rushed to the tower from the shift they'd been working when the news was delivered.

A moment later, Tony recognized the person at his back to be Pepper and she was speaking consolingly to all three, trying her damnedest to keep them all grounded. Rhodey entered a few minutes later and he was carrying a small tray of steaming mugs. It wasn't coffee and, through the congestion of tears, Tony managed to make out the scent of Catmint and Clarysage, Atlas Cedar and Gold Poppy.

Rhodey carefully presses a mug into each of the three mourner's hands, stopping to make sure their fingers had grasped the mugs tightly before moving onto the next. Tony doesn't remember much of what happens after that. He got brief flashes; Pepper and Rhodey fussing over them, Jarvis's voice indicating Alexander and Ray, Brad's mentor, have arrived, calls from Fury turned away with excuses Pepper makes up on the fly, but the rest is silent nothingness.

The three of them hardly ever leave the bed. Bathroom breaks, chances to stretch lest they get sore from laying still for too long, but the rest of it is just them, laying in bed, surrounding each other for comfort. Until the second day, when their aged mentors pull them out of bed and herd them into showers and clean clothes, and then actual food is pressed into their hands. Pepper helps Tony pack while Alexander and Ray drive Brad and Anatassia home to do the same. She tells him gently that the military service will be at Arlington and then hands him a note, written by Alexander no doubt, to explain that the members of the Raan Do Sivaas will be boarding a plane afterwards to Canada that Pepper had volunteered for them.

Tony's still a little dazed as Pepper hands him two suit bags and a duffel bag, and, for a moment he's confused before he remembers that one is a normal suit he'll wear to the public service and the other is a gray linen outfit and his gray mourning mask, the one he'll wear at the private service.

She tells him that the Avengers left the tower a day ago, under Fury's instruction for a mission and that she'll take care of everything Stark industries related while he's gone. She kisses his cheek, bundles him carefully into the back of the waiting limo, and watches as Happy drives him off to the airport.

Its rainy and dreary the day of the ceremony at Arlington, but it stops no-one from showing up. At the front are Robert's classmates and their mentors, along with Marcie herself who, though beginning to gray and face lined with the grief that suffuses everyone, still looks formidable. Behind them are marines from Robert's company, even his CO, Major Reckford, and, to Tony's surprise, Robert's parents, who had supported his path as an assassin, but not as a marine.

The service is peaceful and respectful and it's obvious by the reverence with which Robert's casket is treated that he was well-loved by all in attendance. Tony is greatly surprised with the solemn-faced Honor Guard leader kneels in front of him with the folded flag, Robert's dogtags resting gently on top. "On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Marine Corps, and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service."The man's voice is quiet and respectful and Tony takes the flag with shaking hands, quietly thanking the man as he rose and stepped away.

Everyone stood as Taps began to play, muffled against the rain that beat against the ground and, for the first time since his parent's died, Tony cried as the casket was lowered, thankful that the rain covered the muffled sound of his sobs.

The den is cold and silent when they arrive. The smooth stone halls, usually lit by lightbulbs, are instead illuminated by oil lamps. Novices and assassins alike more silently, garbed in the gray linen mourning clothes and, in a show of unity, masks, if they have them, hang about their necks from leather thongs instead of their usual spots on faces.

The party that had attended the funeral at Arlington were given leave to go to their rooms and, for once, Tony was glad he'd gotten his own room when he'd been masked. The room is just how he left it and there's a low fire burning in the hearth, but the candles on his table aren't lit. He stowed what he wouldn't need and then peeled himself out of his suit, which he hung up on the empty weapon rack. He scrubbed his face at the bowl and then slipped into his own linen outfit.

There's almost no difference from the black and red one he'd worn years before, save for the color and the two, lone stripes down the legs, one black, one red. He hangs the mask about his neck and stays barefoot. He made to sit when there was a hesitant knock on his door.

"Enter." He said gruffly. The door gently swings open and a younger looking man enters. His pants don't bear a stripe, which indicates he's a novice, but he's cradling something with near-reverence in his hands.

"I'm supposed to give you this, Sunvaar Fox." The novice said and gently handed it to him. Tony's fingers tightened around the stave that was laid in his hand. The novice said nothing as Tony's stared at the stave, leaving the room and closing the door behind him as he went.

The Watcher's Stave.

Tony recognized the stave, as he'd personally crafted this one not ten years ago, when the previous stave had reached its century mark.

It's crafted of solid oak wood, stained a deep Saffron. Lain closely in meticulously carved grooves in the wood are oak strips died bombay, color blatant against the rest of the stave. The top had a spike made of carved antler, sharpened to a point and in the center where his hand would rest was tied with tattered silk of pure white. Wreathed about the entirety of the stave are ancient runes, from where they come from, no one knows.

It's the Watcher's solemn duty to preside carefully over the five day mourning period, in which the den will come to a standstill, save for the barest necessary work, such as feeding the horses, oxen and dogs. For the next five days, Tony, as Watcher would have the responsibility of guarding the stone tablet where the memorial would sit and making sure the Remembrance Fire never went out.

His grip tightened on the stave and he breathed out once shakily. "You would choose me, wouldn't you?" He whispered softly. There are ceremonies for maskings and unmaskings, births and deaths, banishments and inclusion and as novices they learned them all, incase they were ever called upon to perform those duties.

He rested the stave carefully against the wall and grabbed the dog-tags resting carefully on top of the flag-case one of the marines had crafted by hand a while ago. Carefully he wrapped the chain around his right wrist until they sat on the underside of his wrist, grabbed the stave and made his way outside through the main entrance.

Most members don't even know the small path he takes exists until they must attend a funeral, but now, the once smooth earth, warm and dry underfoot despite the hovering clouds, is imprinted with dozens and dozens of others people's bare foot prints. At the pinnacle of the path is a massive flat surface, having been carved into the earth over time and there are rows of wooden logs, all filled with members and other staff, all dressed for mourning. As he walks down the aisle that cuts them in half, row by row they stand, following him with only their heads until he's standing in front of a stone tablet.

Like the runes, no one knows where the tablet comes from, only that offerings and an effigy are placed upon it on a daily basis and, when the sun goes down, the offerings are placed at the base of the Remembrance Fire, where they burn to ashes. The pit for the fire, with logs all leaned up against each other and more nearby, is next to mountain face, behind the tablet.

Tony drops to his knees, puts his hands down with the stave carefully atop them and bows his head until it rests against the base of the tablet. "For the Spirits." He says, clearly and with the barest trace gruff and accent, brought on by his crying earlier, and he's echoed by the mass behind him.

He's rises to his feet and Marcie, who'd stepped away from the front row, hands him a large wooden lion, hand-carved he can tell, which he takes with a bow. The stave goes spike first into the ground and he holds the lion above his head. "For my fallen brother." He says and is echoed again as he places the lion in the middle of the stone tablet.

He lifts the stave and flips it back spike-side up and is handed a wooden bowl, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but steep enough to hold a good amount of liquid. He takes a sip; its good summerwine, sweet with an abundance of berries and honey and then, with a flick of his hand, the rest of the wine scatters across the tablet and onto the pit behind it. "For the Gods." He declares, and the bowl goes in front of the lion while he's repeated.

The last thing he's handed is a burning branch, which he grabs and walks around to the pit. The wood is resin-drenched and lights with ease when Tony tosses the branch into the pit with a final declaration.

"Ashes to ashes."

On the night of the fifth day, Tony doesn't feed the fire after his classmates, now only seven in number, join him and watch as, finally in the gray light of dawn on the sixth morning, the flame dies. He was tired and sore from standing still and sleeping only in thirty minute snatches. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed with Inari, who was back at the tower, and sleep for sixteen hours and then eat his first warm meal in nearly a week. Or coffee, lots and lots of coffee would also suffice. Their plane back to Manhattan didn't leave until six the following evening, so Tony had time.

Slipping inside the den, he's met with noise and actual light and he smiles as they move down the center opening in the anteroom, which led down the great hall. The tables are full and Tony's stomach growls at the smell of eggs, back bacon and strong coffee. They wait in turn in the line leading up the serving windows and their plates are piled full. Tony and Brad grab coffee while Anatassia grabs a glass of milk and they squeeze into a table of other assassins.

An hour later they're still there, sipping their drinks and talking lowly when Marcie herself comes up, smiling at them gently. In her hand are three envelopes, one of which goes in each person's hands. "He wanted you to read those together. The room is empty and the chefs have left. Go ahead." Was all she said before she too turned on her heel and left them. Nerves creeping up on them, Tony got up and refilled everyone's cups, bring the pot of coffee and a cup for Anatassia over as well.

Anatassia started by opening her envelope, a light blue number with her name scrawled across it in familiar handwriting. She unfolds the paper inside, takes a deep breath and reads it aloud. "Dear 'Tassa, if you're reading this, then I died. I wrote these letters on December the ninth, five days before my deployment in 2012. If I am dead, then that sucks and I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't my fault."She chokes a little, but breathes deeply and begins again.

"I remember when we first met, and Tony said something stupid to you and you kicked him in the shin and started cursing him out in an accent so thick, none of us could understand. I also remember how, later that day, we went to the park, and you met a little boy named Johan and you thought he was the coolest person ever. You two became fast friends and you even went to medical school together. (Brad told me everything, don't deny it.) You two have been dating for five years now and you're both so stupidly in love with each other that you're afraid to make the next big step and get married. Well, now's the time. I wrote a letter for him as well and it'll be delivered to him after the will is read."

The rest she reads silently to herself and the two other men watched as her eyes flooded over and she stood quickly. They paused to squeeze her hand on the way out, but soon she was gone, out the door and probably away to her room. Tony looked down at his letter and then up at Brad, who was staring back at him with just as much consternation before they nodded to each other and slit the top of the letters. By silent agreement they flip open the pages and begin reading silently at the same time.

"Dear Tony, if you're reading this, then I've died. I wrote this letter the same day I wrote Brad and 'Tassa's. If you're reading this second, then 'Tassa's probably already gone and you're alone in the room with Brad. This is good. We've known eachother since we were four, Tony. I know your tics and how you react to certain things. I think you'll remember a time, all those years ago when we were practicing free-running, and you slammed into a wall. Yes, I remember that. You tried to tell me you got distracted, but I knew the real reason. I let it slide, figured you figure it out yourself and either get over it if it was just a crush or admit your feelings to Brad.

"What I didn't count on was you being an idiot. A loveable idiot that we all adored, but a stupid, self-sacrificing idiot nonetheless. For a while, I thought I'd been wrong and then, when Brad and 'Tassa got their residencies at the hospital and we went drinking, 'Tassa let it spill. Don't blame her, you know how she get's once she's got a couple in her. You loved him, you just thought it would ruin the friendship if you told him and he didn't feel the same way or, if you started a relationship and broke up, it would do the same.

"Newsflash, Tony, he adores you as much as you adore him and you both pine about as subtly as crying puppies whose owners left for the store. I'm surprised you didn't notice it before. I'm hoping you two get your heads in the game while I'm away and that these letters come after you two have gotten together. But if not, here's your sign."

Tony drops the letter on the table and when he looks up he comes face to face with the startled azure eyes of the man across the table. "Is it-" They started at the same time, and then subside.

"Do you?" Brad asks and, for the first time in a long time, Tony hears the uncertainty in his voice. Tony's own smile as he nods is a little wobbly but it's so worth it to see Brad's face come alight. Tony could feel his own smile lightening and growing bigger. Brad reached a tentative hand across the table and Tony twined fingers with him, giggling a little hysterically when he receives a squeeze in return.

Brad's hands are strong but soft, marks of his job as an emergency doctor and they're a sharp contrast to Tony's own calloused palms, but Brad just smiles back at him and, if they're both a little delirious with giddy joy, neither of them says a thing.

Their plane lands in the dead of night, for which Tony is grateful, happy is waiting for them at the private airfield with the limo already warmed up and waiting. Tony's cradling the flag case close to his chest and Brad had one arm looped around his waist. While they had agreed to keep their budding relationship quiet for the time being, mainly to spare Brad the press, keeping it a secret from Pepper and Anatassia would be near impossible.

Anatassia had found them in Tony's room ("Can I lay with you for a while?", "Of course, you don't have to ask.") and had awoken them with an excited screech, which had led to calling Pepper and telling her the news, which gained another excited exclamation.

Pepper was waiting for them inside the limo and she greeted each of them warmly. Their grief was still visible, but toned down and tempered slightly. She patted Tony's knee, filled him in one what had happened while he was away and, before he knew it, they were in front of Anatassia's brownstone. They hugged and promised to call each other and Anatassia exited the limo into the arms of her waiting boyfriend.

They dropped off Brad next and both he and Tony were reluctant to let each other go so soon. They didn't kiss, not really, but Brad leaned over and rubbed his nose against Tony's gently and squeezed his hand, promising to visit again as soon as he was settled back in at the hospital and call when he could. He left, closing the door behind him and Tony sank back into the seat, cradling the case closer.

Pepper patted his knee consolingly and did her best to distract him until they arrived at the tower. Tony was only too happy to slide out of the limo and stagger into an elevator, where Jarvis greeted him warmly, as warmly as the AI could anyway. "Take me to my office, Jarvis."

"Of course, sir. But I feel I must warn you that the Avengers are on the same floor, watching a movie and, now that they have been made aware of your return, demand to speak with you at once."Tony simply hummed. He'd put his office on the same floor as the livingroom for the sheer purpose of accessibility for the few times he used it. Let them demand all they wanted, he had more important things to take care of.

His arrival on the communal floor was met with a flurry of voices, tossing questions at him with speed, but he ignored them and brushed past to the solid door of his office. He was being followed but he didn't care and he breezed into his office, Jarvis turning on the light as he entered. One of the shelves of his bookshelves was empty and, leaning up on his toes, he reverently placed the flag case in the center, the tags wrapped around his wrists glinting in the light. The noise behind him stopped and he ran a careful hand over the dark wood, brushing away microscopic dust.

There's a twist in his heart, one he knows will always be there when he thinks of his fallen friend, but a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Robert, even from beyond the grave, helped one of Tony's greatest dreams come true. He drops down onto the flat of his feet.

"Thank you, Robert."

They give it a few months, he and Brad, before they even think about making the relationship public. Still nobody put Pepper and Anatassia know, but that's okay for them. The months give them a chance to learn the ins and outs of being in a relationship with each other, and Pepper and Anatassia find amusement in their besotted fumbling.

For both of them, its their first "real" relationship, one that they want to make work. Both are tactile, and love touching the other. For Brad, it's things like snuggling on the couch when it's just them watching a movie, sharing the same bed when they stay over at each other's houses and holding hands over meals.

For Tony, it's small, almost unnoticeable things. Walking shoulder to shoulder down a hall or street, brushing arms when they pass, the way they don't ever really kiss, instead almost always just brushing noses a few times, eyes bright and smiling.

When Brad comes over and Pepper tells him he's been down in the lab for more than forty-eight hours, the rest of the team watched, amazed, as Brad coaxes him out with only a bowl of mac' n' cheese and a glass of milk. Tony leaves little things, all of them homemade with Brad or hides them when they're going to be away from each other. When Tony leaves for business trips, Brad always wakes up with something on Tony's pillow. Sometimes it's a single flower, a wooden celestial dragon like his mask portrayed or little animals crafted of scrap metal.

Brad does much the same. When Tony's goes into the office for the day and works himself down and forgets to eat, a delivery of his favorite foods always shows up with a tiny note tucked in the bag or box, with a reminder that he needs to eat.

They do little things for each other when they stay over. If Brad's had a long day, Tony cooks something hearty (he knows how to cook dammit) and then gives him a foot massage while Brad watches his favorite shows.

When Tony's stressed or his ear or chest start to bug him Brad makes him sit on the floor in front of him, and scratches small circles behind his ears and across the back his neck, down to his chest over his shirt, humming quietly and calling him "katje", his kitten, a teasing name for the "purring" sound Tony would make after a few minutes of the treatment.

They don't have sex.

It's low on both of their lists, and they're just as happy to fall asleep, curled together in the same bed. Brad earns the name "imajte", Bear, from the way he holds Tony like he's a teddy bear and there's been more than one weekend where they do nothing but spend the day wrapped in each other's arms.

After four months, they decided to make it public. There wasn't going to be a press conference, no big announcement. They just decided that they didn't need to keep their dates so secluded anymore. Tony would randomly appear at the hospital with lunch, they would walk down the street hand-in-hand. Simple things. It takes less than a week before they figure it out.

Tony woke up one morning, huffing to find Brad's side of the bed empty. In the background, Jarvis was rattling off the weather, cold and snowy as it had been for several weeks already, and his AI tells him that Brad was in the communal kitchen with the rest of the team. He rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair shorts and a wifebeater and scooped Inari up from the foot of the bed, making his way to the elevator. He was still half asleep and the first thing he did when he arrived was deposited inari on the ground in front of his water dish and then grabbed a mug from where they hung over the coffee maker.

Once he had his cup, he focuses on the people sitting around the table and the noise they make as they talk, found Brad and strode over, leaning down and brushing his nose against the other man's in their usual morning ritual. Brad merely beams and nuzzles back, but behind him, the conversation had lulled. After a moment of silence, Natasha smirked and threw something in the middle of the table.

"Well, this headline makes a lot more sense now." She said and Tony looked at it. It was an issue of People, still in its plastic and dominating the front is a massive headline. "Tony Stark; Genius, Billionaire, Philanthropist...Gay?"He read aloud. Below the headline is a picture, a rather candid shot, and one Tony remembers. It was from two days ago, a walk they'd taken in the park. He and Brad are facing each other and smiling. Tony's wearing a long coat and red and gold snow cap while Brad is dressed much the same, but with a scarf rather than a hat on his head. Brad's got his arms around Tony's waist and Tony's arms are up around his neck and he's up on his toes, nose-to-nose with the other man.

Tony shrugged his shoulders and Brad looped his arm around his waist, chuckling at Tony's dismissal. The others were looking at the cover and then back to the couple, who were staring straight-faced back at them. Clint shrugs first, and Tony wasn't surprised. The relationship between he and Coulson is no big secret at all. Next is Bruce and Natasha, the former offering them his congratulations. Thor booms his own congratulations, which pulled a smile out of Tony. The only holdout was Steve, who was staring at the couple with some consternation.

"Steve?" Tony asks and Steve actually jumps. He seemed to stumble over the words for a moment before he gave them a shaky congratulations. There wasn't disgust or disappointment in his body language, more like confusion and Tony resolved to talk with his friend later that night.

He wouldn't get the chance.

Tony got the call right after lunch. He was in the workshop, bent over something or the other when Jarvis informed him that he had a phone call. "Pick it up." He ordered and sat up when a familiar voice filtered through the speakers.

"Marcie Blackmill. What can I do for you?" He asked and put down his tools, like she could actually see him through the phone line. There was a moment of silence.

"I need the Fox."

Natasha didn't know when the mission went south. it might have gone okay if they'd had Iron Man there to provide his usual air support, but Stark was off somewhere, taking care of some emergency in Japan.

All she knew was the now, she and the rest of her team are trapped in a giant glass cube with a mad Hydra scientist staring at them like they're the most interesting things in the world. There were collars around bruce and Thor's necks, something that kept them weak and from hulking-put respectively, but let them remain lucid and active.

The scientist was muttering something about blood work and DNA splicing and none of it sounded good, but they'd been searched thoroughly before being put in the cube, so she has no weapons unless one of them gets close enough for her to do something with her hands. The scientist muttered something to an awkward looking bunch of interns, who nodded and brought about several trays filled with several kinds of tools.

He grabbed something off the tray, a massive looking syringe and began making his way to the glass cube, and she tensed, getting ready to spring to whichever teammate's defense that needs her. But before the man can even approach them, alarms filled the room and three doors burst open. It's all shock and awe, something she appreciates and she watches with some amusement as four masked assailants enter the room, roaring a promise of bloodshed and pain all along the way.

With a jolt, she gets a look at one of the mystery assailants and can't help the gasp that escaped her when she sees the dragon mask. What are members of the Raan Do Sivaas doing out here? Her question is answered when she sees another, this one bearing a fox mask, come flying from the left, a sword of all things in his hands and bury the sword in the scientist's chest. The man laughs loudly, blood spraying from his mouth as he laughed something about being too late.

The fox-masked one snorted and pulled the blade back, swinging once to shear away the blood from the blade and then turned eyes on the cube. Natasha couldn't help the shiver that made its way through her body when, instead of normal eye color, she came face-to-face with glowing blue eyes. She briefly thinks of the Iron Man's eyes but shakes the throught out of her head.

The Fox, a name she's heard whispered in the halls of SHIELD with awe, reverence and fear. There's no doubt this is the same man Coulson and Clint encountered years before, the way he carries himself, the way those glowing blue eyes survey the room where they're standing. Fox reaches into the haversack on his left side and pulls something out, which he tosses behind him and is caught by another, this one wearing the mask of a bear. "Get the eyes and hands, Bear. We're going to need those. Dragon, string him up when Bear's done. Leopard, watch out backs."

While the others go about their assigned tasks, Fox approached the control panel for the glass box and ran his hands over the surface, muttering the German commands under his breath until he finds a switch concealed inside of a small glass, flip-up case.

"Open." He says, and there's a string of triumph in his voice. He's about to flip the case up when there the sound of a shuffle behind him and one of his compatriots shouts "Watch out Fox!" a moment too late. One of the fallen guard/interns had come to his feet and has something thin and metallic wrapped around the neck of Fox, pulling tightly. There's a gurgling sound and Fox slumped against his assailant and, for a brief moment, the guard smirks, certain he's taken at least one of them out.

The minute the guard's grip loosens on the wire, Fox surges up and twists out of the grip, but there's a sound of tearing and something coming loose but it's quickly covered up when Fox delivers a flat-palmed strike to the guard's exposed face. Natasha can see the sharp metal spikes, tinted blue and most certainly poisoned climbing spikes, and she watches along with everyone else as Fox shreds the face of his attacker, ribbons of flesh falling away with the glove.

There's a moment of utter silence as the man seems to comprehend what has happened and Fox and the other assassins are laughing. And then the man screams, and it's a sound of agony and terror and the team watches in horror as, starting from the wounds, the man's face begins to melt. Flesh and muscles come away in semi-coagulated liquid globules and soon, the man falls to ground dead, face reduced to nothing but bone.

Fox is muttering something derisive sounding the other assassins are nodding from where the scientist is hung up from a rafter and rope tied about his knee, his face eyeless and with no hands. The team can see now that the mask and hood of Fox's outfit have come away in the attack, his swept back brunette hair eerily familiar.

Clint has gone terrifyingly quiet from the appearance of the assassins and, when Fox turns around briefly, she finds out why. It's Tony who stares back at them, eyes still a frightening, pupil-less glowing blue. He doesn't seem to realize he's been unmasked until Steve lets out something akin to a dying moan and Tony lifts a single finger up to his face.

When his glove comes into contact with bare skin, his face contorts into such utter rage that everyone flinches back from him. He lets a sound, a bellow a rage one would liken to a dragon's roar, lose and turns on his feet, leaving the team alone in the room with the dead scientist.