]Edited: 3/2/16

Author's Note:

I had a few comments about my (admittedly) twisted timelines. I'm not going to lie, I've basically thrown a bunch of glass on the floor and am picking up the pieces to create my own masterpiece. Still, I thought I'd leave a note to help try and clarify the timelines a bit…or manage to confuse us all further.

Okay, so unlike in the movies, Logan left Vietnam when Victor tried to rape the girl. Because of that, he wasn't there for the execution, and wasn't recruited. The lack of Logan means that the X-Team of Stryker's never broke up because Logan wasn't there to pressure the others about their bad behavior. So the team stayed together for the years between Victor joining and when Logan would have been found and turned into a weapon later (per the movies).

Instead, I had Victor leak the info about Logan's mutation to Stryker, who passed it along to the Director…etc. They had a heck of a time capturing Logan, so he didn't get his updates until years later. What I did was move the timelines from when X was created forward. I lessened the gap between the Wolverine movie, and the first X-men movie. IX and X will stay with Stryker's team for roughly four years until we reach the events in the X-men movies.

I should probably have said this from the start, but this is wildly AU. When my characters interact with the worlds/timelines, things are going to change. People who died might live, people who lived might die…etc. From these changes, the arcs of the story will differ. Sometimes just a bit, and other times completely.

Clear as mud yet? Anyway, if that totally confused anyone or if there are any questions about my crazy timelines, review or IM me and I'll try to clear it up. Or I'll cover my ears and sing LA LA LA at the top of my lungs. We'll see.

Per a review from Areej.A.A, ghaben actually means coward. Whereas Wald alkelb means son of a bastard. I've corrected this in the last chapter. Thank you for the catch!

Sorry for the long author's note, thank you all for your continued support, thoughts and ideas!

Chapter 16 – Lessons Learned the Hard Way

"Sometimes you had to hurt yourself - and badly - to find out it could be better to lie back in the tall weeds and procrastinate." – Stephen King, The Stand

Tony's fingers flew in time with the snarling guitar riffs of AC/DC's Back in Black, but even the pounding of the drums couldn't drown out the growing pain in his skull. Just a little longer, he promised, even as his exhausted eyes blurred, turning the multiple screens into colorful smudges. It felt like he was back in the desert. His eyes were so dry, Tony whimpered as he rubbed at them.

Sleep couldn't be put off much longer, but he fought it with the single minded intensity of a man who could see a tiny speck of land after being cast adrift in the ocean. "One more link. There's gotta be something here. He didn't spring fully formed off the ass of some bureaucrat." Obsessing over the green eyed man, and his newest updates for the Iron Man suit were all that kept the nightmares at bay. Though Tony wouldn't admit it to anyone, he knew his ordeal had impacted him more than he let on. It wasn't so bad when he was awake, but once sleep came, that was it. He was there again, being tortured, watching helplessly as Yinsen died.

Weakness. Tony had been weak, and people died because of it. The soldiers died, innocent villagers died, hell even the enemy died. Somehow, he'd made it out, and he swore to himself that he'd never be so helpless again. But then Green-eyes came. Came and turned his whole world on its head. Tony didn't want to believe Obadiah was the one who'd betrayed him, but the proof they'd found after the stranger killed him and destroyed the inferior prototype of his suit was irrefutable.

"You took it from me," Tony growled at the close up image of the green eyed man. No, he wouldn't have killed Stane for what he'd done, but Tony deserved his revenge for that betrayal. More importantly, he deserved an explanation.

Flicking his wrist, he dismissed the image along with his own fatigue before he began hacking deeper into yet another shady government organization. It hadn't taken much digging to realize that Green-eyes wasn't with the Ten Rings, in spite of his artistic leavings. There was no logical reason for him to come to America and kill Stane if that were the case. Not when Stane had been the one providing his weapons to the group.

No, the elaborate set up smacked of a hit. The skill of the assassin, the words he spoke, and his lack of accent all pointed towards black ops. The only question remained was for whom? What government had loosed the slender dagger at Stane, and permitted it to pass him by? There were too many questions, but Tony had all night and the mystery was the perfect way to keep his mind away from the cold bed and the nightmares waiting for him.

The light knock was loud enough to earn a muffled, "Come in." IX opened the door, his eyes sweeping over the room before locking on the man behind the desk.

"Take a seat." Stryker gave a chilly smile as he motioned towards the stiff backed wooden chair in front of his desk. IX moved silently across the room and sat without a word. That's refreshing, at least he doesn't talk back like that idiot Wilson, he thought. So far, he was pleased with the pair, even if he knew they were there to watch and judge him as much as his team. IX was the perfect example of what mutant experimentation should be. He was obedient, silent, and willing to do whatever his commanding officer demanded of him.

As far as Stryker could tell, there was nothing the short male would balk at. Today he planned to test that. The scientists who were responsible for disposing of the test subjects after their usefulness was at an end had a modicum of dignity and refused to permit the creatures to suffer needlessly. One factor of said suffering was forcing the others to watch while their fellows were killed. He didn't understand why the fools drew the line there, when they were willing to do invasive operations, experiments, and terminate the mutants after they'd lost interest in the subjects. Still, they were, and he knew they would be happy when they were told that they no longer had to perform the duty. If they weren't needed to craft the future of living weapons, Stryker would have disposed of the lot of them long before now. Unfortunately, it was difficult to find doctors with the proper skill set and the willingness to do less than ethical work. It made the ones he found regrettably non-disposable.

"One of your duties, starting today, is to terminate test subjects who have outlived their usefulness. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Stryker smiled, how he loved IX's response. Always short, and above all, respectful. That's how they should all respond to me, and once I've successful created my own brand of weapons, they will. That was a project for a later date. They were making progress, but so far they had only been able to integrate one extra mutation into another host without the body overloading. The project still had a lot of groundwork before he could implement Weapon XI.

"Very good. They are to be eliminated in their cages where the other subjects can watch. You will terminate subject 52 when you leave here."

"Yes, sir. What condition should be body be in?" IX asked, his mind already turning to the subject in question, and the best way to kill him.

"The scientists have no further need of it, dispose of it how you will."

IX stood and saluted before leaving the room. It didn't take him long to reach the seemingly endless rows of cages.

"Traitor!"

"Please, let us out."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Help us!"

"Sell out. You're nothing but a damned pet freak for those bastards."

He ignored the endless insults, pleas, and curses. It was like that any time he passed through here, and it had as little effect on him now as it did the first time he heard them. They all knew he helped capture mutants, and worse. But now they would learn to fear him even more. IX knew what Stryker wanted. It was the same tactic he'd used on the team when he and X first joined. By killing one of their own in front of them, he was setting himself up as the boogie man. It would reduce the likelihood of attempted escapes, and would increase their willingness to obey the other guards as well as the scientists.

Psychologically, they would feel the intense need not to have his attention fall on them. That, and the rest of the staff would be able to hold him like a sword above their necks. It was a simple trick, but an effective one.

IX stopped in front of the glass cage. The mutant behind the glass vanished, turning into a violent torrent of air before returning to human form and glaring. His lips moved, but he couldn't be heard in his air tight cage. IX could make out the shape of the curses on his lips and lifted a hand to rest it palm up on the cold surface.

Focusing, he let his power lick at the glass long enough to create a hole roughly the size of a quarter. The trapped mutant's eyes widened in shock when he realized what IX did before he instantly transformed, ready to escape. Expecting the move, IX let a tiny flame flicker through the opening.

The small enclosure was instantly engulfed. Flames bloomed in the air, feeding on the extra oxygen created whenever the mutant transformed. Then mindless panic kicked in, and the boy attempted to change back. Nightmarish screams filled the room as the blackened form writhed on the floor. His inhuman shrieks were echoed by the others who were forced to watch. IX ignored them all. A flick of thought popped the lock on the door and IX stepped into the cell. His power reached out, concentrating the flames. With a final haunting scream, the twitching, blackened thing fell silent. After a few minutes, the husk collapsed in on itself, leaving a pile of oily ash on the floor. Turning away, IX stepped out into a wall of silence. All eyes locked on him, but none of the caged mutants dared move. Instead the watched him the same way a bunch of meerkats watching a cobra.

"So I must be getting close then," Tony said in way of greeting. Nick stood outside the door and studied the billionaire while waiting to be invited over the threshold. The dark circles under his eyes and obvious weight loss didn't please him, but Nick knew it was to be expected. Tony wasn't the sort to seek out professional help, and the man wouldn't even begin to admit he had a problem until after he'd had a complete nervous break down. Hopefully he'll live long enough to have a nervous break down. If he keeps down this path, that's not likely to happen, Nick thought.

"Are you going to stand there all day staring, or are you going let me in?" Nick demanded. His patented glare had no noticeable effect. He wouldn't have come if he thought Colson could make it through the door, but Nick knew how prideful this prospect was. He knew there was no way he'd allow someone less than the top to enter his domain unchallenged. Even now, he wasn't sure if he'd make it through the door or not. Still, he had to try before the idiot ended up smeared all over his penthouse office.

Grumbling under his breath about pushy secret agents, Tony stepped aside and let the large black man through. Nick looked the room over and gave a dark smirk. "You've done well for yourself, now let's hope you can keep it."

"Is that a threat?"

"Not at all. I'm not here to threaten you Mr. Stark. In fact, I have a vested interest in your continued existence."

Tony snorted in disbelief. "Right. So you're saying you aren't here to politely threaten to break my neck if I don't stop digging for bones?"

"Indeed. I'm not going to break your neck. I want you to live and work for me one day. The only way that works out in my favor is if you continue living,"

"First, I don't wanna join your super-secret boy band. Second, why should I believe you?" Tony demanded.

"I'm here aren't I? You didn't get a bullet between the eyes from some sharp shooter. It wasn't the one you are seeking who showed up on your doorstep. However, if you don't stop snooping, those things might come next."

"So he is one of yours?"

"No. Call it...professional curtesy from one organization to another. My interest in you is known in certain circles, and your death would be inconvenient for me. I'm sure you've already figured out that the man who let you live wasn't a terrorist?"

"No shit."

"I'm not going to tell you who he's working for, but I will give you a small taste of what you have to look forward to if you don't drop it." Nick held out a folder.

Tony was tempted to ignore it, to ignore everything. Oh, he knew what he was doing was no more or less than poking a sleeping dragon. But he couldn't help his curiosity. Finally, when it was clear Fury wouldn't take no for an answer, he snatched the file and opened it.

Inside were dozens of glossy high-resolution photographs. His stomach did a slow forward roll when he recognized Raza, and the maimed limb that had once been his leg. "Your boy did this shortly after Stane left Afghanistan. We also believe he is responsible for the deaths of ninety percent of the upper echelon of the Ten Rings. The remnants are now at war with another terrorist organization. It was neatly done, that." Tony thought he heard a bit of admiration in the older man's voice and cringed.

There was no way Tony would have lifted a finger to save Raza's life, but no matter how much he wanted the bastard dead, he couldn't condone what the pictures showed. "Dear God, are those strips of skin on the rock next to him?"

"Indeed. It appears that his leg was skinned, one strip at a time. Are you beginning to understand? These are not the sort of people you want to decide that you've become more of a liability than a potential asset. You're brilliant, and no one can deny your weapons are stunning, but even that won't save you if you make yourself too much of a threat. I want you for my Avengers initiative, but I can't go to war to protect you from your own stupidity. Have I made myself clear?"

Tony swallowed, still flipping through the horrible pictures. "Yeah, all right. Fine, I get it. Now get out. I don't belong to you or anyone else, so get that thought out of your head and go back to playing war games with your buddies." He shoved the folder back into Nick's hands and shoved him out the door.

Leaning against it, he rubbed his face and wondered what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

"Come. It's time to train."

Wade leaned a little to the left so he could see the TV around the short little bug that dared interrupt his veg time. To his disgust, IX shifted with him to continue blocking the screen. In response, he threw a handful of popcorn at the assassin.

"Get up."

"No, I don't think so little fly, so go find someone else to buzz around, mkay? I'm busy," he said before sticking his tongue out.

Instead of getting angry, like the mouthy mutant hoped - even though nothing he'd said or done so far managed to get any sort of reaction out of the little brat - IX just stared at him. "It is time to train. Get up or I will attack you here and you will not have the benefit of your swords to defend yourself."

Wade might have tested that if he hadn't watched the little prick fight X and knew how deadly he could be. There was no doubt that IX was fully armed even if a casual glance didn't show obvious weapons. If he tried to take IX on without a weapon there was a great chance he'd spend the rest of the weekend tied up to one of Dr. Weird's tables in the infirmary, and that wasn't a place he wanted to be.

"Fine," he snapped, before standing up to follow the little monster out.

The training room was large, and empty. Nothing fancy, which always irritated Wade. Why couldn't they have something more than a big open cement room to beat each other up in? Where were the wall length mirrors, the padded blue mats, hell he'd have been happy with a few obstacles.

He was violently torn from his thoughts when IX turned and slammed a foot into his chest, sending him crashing to the ground. "Hey! What the fuck dude? I wasn't ready yet. That doesn't count." He scrambled back to his feet, unable to believe he'd fallen for such a cheap shot.

"We're here to train. An enemy will not wait for you to be prepared before he attacks," was the only response IX gave before he launched into another attack. Even with his swords, Wade found it difficult to keep the tiny demon at bay. It was infuriating to see his blades, fast enough to stop bullets, being turned aside by daggers of all things. IX seemed to be mocking him while they danced. The clash of metal became the music, and the soft grunt of exertion when a hit got through kept the strange beat. He had no idea how the shorter mutant was able to keep up with his speed, and it galled him that he was sporting more cuts as the dance continued. Trying to cut IX was like trying to stab water. He seemed to flow around the sharp metal, his own blades came up not to block but to redirect with a delicate hiss of steal licking off of steal. The style wasn't one he'd ever seen before, and it was bloody effective.

"You rely too much on speed," IX's dead voice jolted him out of his thoughts, and the hesitation was enough. In a move too fast to follow, IX's leg lashed out to tangle in between his as a fist slammed into his solar plexus. With a pained grunt, he fell, and IX moved with him, bringing his blood stained dagger to rest against Wade's throat.

Gritting his teeth, he forced the hated words out. "I yield." Like waking from a nightmare, IX was gone, leaving him on his back to contemplate how he'd lost yet again to a kid whose head barely reached his shoulder. "I'm going to find out who thought these training sessions were a good idea and spike their drink with laxatives," he moaned, rolling over onto his stomach so he could push up onto his feet. At least he wasn't the only one who had to suffer the indignity of losing to a pintsized freak. He knew IX trained with Creed, Wraith, Dukes, and Zero too.

"Wonder why Chris gets a pass. That's so not fair." Then again, if he weren't in so much pain he'd reluctantly agree that the technopath wasn't much of a fighter. Nope, he wouldn't last five seconds in a fight with IX, or anyone else for that matter. "Ha, I bet a fourth grader could take him down." Once he finished his little pity party, Wade got up and took a shower before patching up a few of the deeper cuts that refused to stop bleeding.

Finally able to return to his shows, he found Fred sitting in his spot with the remote in hand and HIS bowl of now empty popcorn! "Damn it Dukes, I had it first."

"Move your meat, lose your seat," the large man grunted while fishing the last bits of popcorn out of the bowl to snarf them.

The air exploded out of him when X pounced. IX could have dodged the attack, but it would only prolong the inevitable. There were times when IX thought about how much easier life would have been if he hadn't been partnered with a Feral. Yes, they worked well together, but even that couldn't make up for the pure aggravation of being treated like some kind of kitten with an over protective mother cat.

Every scratch was exposed and thoroughly licked. If he'd been anyone else, he might have felt disgusted by the strange attention, but IX simply tolerated the behavior with the air of someone who was used to such things.

Once all of the minor wounds were explored, X picked his tiny mate up and carried him to the bed in their room. It had become a trend after the pair began training with the rest of the team. Stryker believed it would help build teamwork if they fought each other, as well as letting them both learn the strengths and weaknesses of the rest of the team in a controlled manner. X enjoyed the fights, even though he wasn't allowed to go all out, it still felt good to pit his skill against the rest. What he didn't care for was IX getting hurt, even if the wounds were superficial. So far, the only one able to defeat IX in battle was X, which satisfied the feral on multiple levels. Not only was he strong enough to force his mate to yield, but he was the only one who could do so.

Growling under his breath, he arraigned the smaller male against his chest. IX didn't fight it. Instead he stretched out, letting his head tuck perfectly under X's chin. While he would have preferred sleeping in his own bed, he'd become accustomed to using the large mutant as his mattress, and found the heavy beat of X's heart comfortable as he drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, IX woke and nearly sank his dagger into X's chest before he realized that the sharp pain in his neck was X's teeth. He wasn't used to being bit on the throat, nor of being gnawed on in the middle of the night. Large hands gripped his hips, and to IX confusion, X's body rose up to grind against his. He hissed under his breath when something jabbed him in the stomach. Again his makeshift bed bucked beneath him, and the teeth paired with the hands held him in place. Not sure what was going on, but sensing no malice in the strange attack, IX kept still.

After a few more bucking thrusts, X's body went taunt. Goosebumps erupted down his back when the larger man snarled, the low sound thrumming down his spine from the mouth still latched on his throat. Then, all at once, X went limp. Reaching up, IX explored the bite mark before he noticed the growing damp spot on his lower stomach. His fingers dipped down to explore the wetness. Bringing them up, he sniffed, expecting the sharp stink of urine, but instead encountered an altogether different odor. The liquid was thicker than water, slick between his fingers. Closing his eyes, he focused and the sticky mess between them vanished.

Once the mess was gone, IX's thoughts turned to his internal dictionary in search of answers. Before long he found what he was looking for: Ejaculation - the action of ejecting semen from the body. Not certain what would have brought X to such a climax, IX decided it was best to simply ignore the matter entirely. Closing his eyes, he let sleep take him again.

"Mission: Infiltrate Stark's home and persuade him to give up his search for information pertaining to the Weapon IX program." The voice woke him from sleep, familiar though one he hadn't heard since he'd been placed on Stryker's team.

"Yes, sir," he replied before detangling himself from X's arms. A soft grumbling growl met his movements, but IX ignored it in favor of duty.

"Remain here, follow Stryker's orders."

X's long arm shot out in an attempt to capture him before he could escape, but IX dodged. Instead he swatted the groping hand for good measure before he turned and dressed.

One whisky colored eye opened to glare at his tiny mate, but he stayed curled in the warmth of the bed surrounded by the intoxicating scent of IX. Licking his lips, he tasted the sweet tang of blood and blinked. Another long look at IX revealed the perfect bite mark on the milky column of his throat and he couldn't suppress the pained groan as his body hardened with want. Before he could act on the growing need, IX vanished, leaving him alone again.

That was one of the things he hated most about their position here. It seemed like every time he turned around IX was off on a mission that didn't involve him. Before they left the Hive, they worked together almost every day. Now he was lucky if he saw IX for more than meal times and when they went to sleep. Growling, he closed his eyes and ignored the pain in his lower region, knowing that even if IX was here he'd go unsatisfied.

The air in the small room that Chris had claimed as his office seemed to crackle with electricity. Every inch of the place was covered in random gadgets, mechanical toys, lightbulbs, and other strange contraptions. In the center of the chaos, Chris sat at his desk which nearly bowed under the weight of multiple monitors and a computer system that would make any hacker weep with envy.

It made IX flesh crawl, and he felt the illogical urge to pulse his power, destroying the flow of electricity in the room. He resisted the impulse, gritted his teeth, and forced his power to remain beneath his skin where it could do no harm.

"Bradley." The technopath jumped when IX dull monotone whispered through the room. Lightbulbs flared brighter in response to his fright, before returning to a mellow glow.

"Y-yes? Did you need something?" He hated how uncomfortable IX made him feel and hoped the other mutant wouldn't stay long.

IX remained in the doorway. "I need you to hack into the Stark estate and disable the buildings defenses and AI."

"Wow, you're not asking for much are you?" Chris whistled. It would probably be easier to slip into the Pentagon's systems, truth be told. Well, perhaps for most hackers, but they didn't have Chris's talents, nor his intuitive skill when it came to anything that ran on electricity.

"Can you do it?" IX was proficient when it came to computers, but his skills were nowhere near what would be needed to get into Stark's home unnoticed. While it was true he could break into the house, he didn't want to give the man any warning before he got things set up.

"Of course I can."

"Good. And while you're in the system..."

The soft chirp of his cell brought Tony out of his daze. "If you'll excuse me," the board members all stiffened in resentment when he stood and walked out. Even before he'd decided to take the company in a new direction, they'd hated him. Well, the feeling was mutual. While they loved the fact that he was even more brilliant than his father, they despised the idea that he had any say in how the company was run. In their minds, he should be kept locked up in the lap, creating wonderful and deadly toys while they dealt with the business end of things.

"Talk to me," Tony purred into the phone, glad to get away from that stuffy room full of idiots who couldn't see past the edge of their own check books.

"T-Tony?" Pepper's voice was like a bucket of ice water poured down his back. Fear screamed in that single word, and even though they'd been through a hell of a lot together, he'd never heard that note of raw panic before.

"Hey, are you okay? What's going on?"

"You need to come home." Before he could get anything else out of her, the line went dead. Spurred by her fear, he ran to the garage even as his fingers darted over the screen, contacting Jarvis. His anxiety spiked when the AI didn't respond.

Breaking more than a few traffic laws, he made it home in record time. At first glance, the house seemed fine, but when he entered, Jarvis didn't respond. Instinct drew him down to his lab, and he cursed the fact that all his Iron Man suits were down there.

Half way down the stairs he froze. Pepper was on her knees, and standing behind her was Green-eyes himself, a slender dagger resting lightly on Pepper's throat. His other hand was tangled in her wine red hair, keeping her head bent at an awkward angle that would let him slash her throat with the same ease a butcher used when slaughtering a lamb.

Holding up his hands to show he was unarmed, Tony eased down the stairs. "Look. It's me you want, let her go." It was impossible to keep the fury out of his tone, but he refused to shout or do anything to cause the knife to slip.

"Mr. Stark, I've been sent to deliver a message. As of now, your intelligence outweighs the liability of allowing you to live. However, this woman has nothing of the sort protecting her."

"If you hurt her-"

"You will do nothing. If I kill her, she will be dead and you will not have saved her. But her life isn't the only thing I hold in my hands. You have few connections in this world, but the woman is one, and there are a handful of others I could kill that would wound your heart." He jerked Pepper's hair hard enough to make her yelp.

Rage twisted Tony's face as he took half a step forward, only to stop when a small bead of blood slid down Pepper's soft skin. "Don't."

"I want you to think about how important finding out my identity is to you when weighed against the lives you hold dear. Also, consider this. I am an expert on human anatomy. All we need from you is your mind. I could shatter your spine, leaving you paralyzed from the waist down, yet still perfectly capable of working." IX didn't smile, and his jaded eyes never left Tony's.

Fear, an emotion he'd become intimate with in Afghanistan, burned like a hot coal in his throat. He'd seen dead eyes like that before, and knew this was his final warning. If he didn't let it go, Green-eyes would pull his whole world down around his head. Pride choked him, demanding that he continue no matter the consequences. How could he even think about giving in to threats? But the fear he felt in his heart was mirrored in Pepper's eyes. How could he even think about doing anything that would get her killed when he could prevent it?

Shuddering, he closed his eyes and bowed his head. "I won't dig anymore, all right? Now let her go." The arch reactor seemed to pulse in his chest just as the room went dark.

When the lights flickered back on, he and Pepper were alone. With a sob. Pepper threw herself into his arms.

Victor's rumbling laugh drew IX's cold gaze. "Looks like my little brother finally got some," he grinned, flashing sharp fangs, though he made no move to approach. After being thrashed by both of them, his own instincts forced him to back down from further conflicts. Victor would never have believed that Jimmy could become the dominant feral, but such was life and he wasn't going to risk having his spine ripped out simply to learn the lesson a second time.

What he hated more than yielding to his baby brother, was yielding to this little bit of fluff who wasn't even a feral and shouldn't have been able to dominate him. That was still a bitter wound time hadn't touched. He didn't think he'd get over the fact that a kid who probably didn't weigh 100 pounds had bested him.

IX didn't reply, simply stared at him in that unnerving way of his and waited for him to explain himself. Victor reached up and touched his neck in the same place as the still vivid bite mark. Unconsciously, IX mimicked the move, tracing the mark. The team was used to X biting his shoulder, marking him as a belonging of sorts, but this mark was different.

Giving an indifferent shrug, IX said "X bit me in his sleep."

Victor laughed at the admission. "Really. Tell me, was that all he did?" It probably wasn't smart to taunt the younger male, but he couldn't help himself.

"No, he also ejaculated."

This time Victor sputtered in shock. He hadn't expected IX to state things so boldly, and hearing that dull monotone admit his brother had a wet dream and bit him was too funny for words.

"Well, if that isn't a sign I don't know what is. When are you finally going to let my brother fuck you?"

IX blinked. "Why would I do that?"

Now it was Victor's turn to blink. "You know he wants you, don't you?"

"I am his handler, it doesn't matter what he wants so long as he performs his duties and follows orders."

Raking his fingers through his hair, Victor couldn't help the small sliver of pity he felt for Jimmy. Of all the people he could have fallen for, he ended up lusting after a miniature robot with all the emotional range of a kiwi. "Most 'assets' don't regularly chew on their handlers."

"X is a feral. It is in his nature to mark me."

He was starting to get a headache. "Why do you think he wants to mark you?"

"For the same reason you attempted to mark me during our first confrontation. You are both ferals." IX replied. He'd never given much thought to why X had a habit of biting him, and had given up trying to dissuade the larger mutant from doing so. It was a pointless venture due to how fast X healed, and the fact that he couldn't beat X in a fight.

"I wanted to mark you out of spite because my idiot brother already claimed you as his."

IX shrugged indifferently, not caring one way or the other why the two men felt the need to try and bite him.

Growling, Victor gave up. It would be easier to teach a frog to fly than it was to get the idea of sex through IX's thick skull. "Whatever, if I was him I'd fuck you and get it over with, instead of waiting around for you to figure out what the hell is going on. He's going to be waiting for a long time." With that, he turned and left the confused weapon to ponder his strange declarations.

His fingers returned to the bite, tracing over the fresh wound while he remembered the scent of X's climax and how it wasn't a terrible odor.

Temptation was like a drug, one he was having a hell of a time saying no to. It had been three weeks since Green-eyes infiltrated his home, and Tony hadn't done a single search on the tiny assassin.

"I'm going to the store to get some real food, and when I get back you're going to come out of this room and cook something with me. You can't live off take out forever Tony," Pepper's voice drew him out of his thoughts as came over the loud speakers.

He rolled his eyes, not wanting to waste his time making something inedible when they could just order something. Still, keeping her happy was a good way to stay happy himself. "Fine, when you get back we'll destroy the kitchen together." A small smile curled his lips when her laughter drifted back to him. Perhaps it wouldn't be a bad thing to spend a little time with her.

Turning his attention to his newest suit idea, he folded the last bit of technology into place. A grin curled his lips when he looked over the neatly folded suitcase suit before his eyes drifted back to the consol. Maybe one little search wouldn't hurt, he thought as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

Instead of search results when he pressed enter, an alarm began blaring. BUILDING SELF DESTRUCT IN THREE…TWO…

Realizing that attempting to override was impossible, his hand shot out to his newest suit. Pain flared in his chest when he slammed it against his flesh, and activated it just as the countdown ended. A guttural roar filled the world, and before he could begin evasive maneuvers, his home came crashing down around him.

A massive slab of stone slammed into him, crushing him to the ground and stealing his breath. Terror burned his mind as the endless torrent of noise and pressure buried him alive. The weight of several tons of his former home pinned him down, and compromised the suit. It wasn't enough to break bone, but the left side had bowed inward enough to only allow the smallest of breaths. Don't panic, just breath, in and out. Shit! That bastard really tried to kill me. Ice filled his chest when he realized how close he'd come to death, then he remembered Pepper. If she had been in the house…

She would have died. He would have died if he hadn't been working on the new suit. There wasn't enough time for him to get into his suit the old way, and Green-eyes wouldn't have known he could get into the new suit so quickly. I was supposed to die. Even pinned, and hardly able to breath, Tony couldn't help but feel a hateful little bead of respect for the assassin. That program had been sneaky as hell to escape both his and Jarvis's notice. Having it activate if he did any further searches was beyond clever, and he couldn't stop pouting about the fact that he'd been so thoroughly defeated on his own turf.

Hours later, the rubble above him began to shift. It felt like forever before he finally caught a glimpse of the sky, and the ugliest face imaginable.

"Have you learned your lesson yet, or do I need to grab a chunk of rubble and bash that helmet of yours a few dozen more times?" Nick demanded as he palmed a rather jagged chunk of cement.

Panting, Tony groaned, "lesson…learned…"

"You know, for a genius, you're an idiot."

"Yeah…"

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