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Tony Stark had had a daughter.
Her name had been Penelope.
She had had superpowers.
And he hadn't seen her in four years.
The ten year-old had last been seen on March thirty-first, 2012. The day of the Chitauri invasion. Tony had seen her that morning, and he guessed he could at least be grateful that their last interaction hadn't been like his own with his parents. Instead of a fight that was never resolved, the two had giggled on the couch of the newly furnished tower, him and Pepper with glasses of wine and Penny with her mint milkshake. Pepper had side-eyed them exasperatedly, as though their laughs and jokes had been the worst ruckus anyone had ever made.
And then Coulson. And then Steve. And then Natasha and Bruce and a God he had learned about in history when he was younger. And then Loki and the Helicarrier and explosions that had left Tony's head ringing--but nothing had hurt more than the loss of his friend.
Everything had gone by so quickly, so desperately, there had been no time to do anything about anything except gear up and go. The biggest reassurance he had given himself was that his homework had caused Pepper and Penny to leave the city for a couple of days while the girl was on Spring Break. It meant they were safe from everything was about to happen, and that he didn't have to worry past New York.
And they had won. The Avengers had been formed under desperate circumstances. They had saved the world.
And Penny had been gone.
Pepper had left on the plane, but Penny had managed to convince her godmother that she should stay at her friend's house for a sleepover. The aliens hadn't even been able to make it past the perimeter and into Queens, but the hectic of it had been enough. Or maybe she had run off to help. Even at ten she was braver than he was. Better. And equipped with superpowers from a field trip's rogue spider that made her stronger than even Captain America.
But it hadn't been enough.
No body was ever recovered. No trace of her was ever found. No footage or DNA or witnesses. There was nothing. Nothing for him to even try and grasp onto what had happened to her. How she had died. The best anyone could do was assume that a Chitauri weapon had vaporized her and to try to grieve from there.
And by God did he try.
After the Mandarin and almost losing Pepper, he'd put in more effort than he ever had. He visited the grave where no body was buried, leaving flowers and trinkets and books he knew she would have loved. He talked. To people who had known her like he had. Pepper and Rhodey and Happy and even Natasha.
The two had been so close when the woman had spied on him. Closer than he had been, still trying to change and learn to be a father better than his own after Afghanistan. He'd been dying and hadn't focused on anything but himself. About what he wanted to do before he was gone, instead of what would happen to his family afterwards.
So Tony tried. He tried a lot, but trying didn't always end in success. No, sometimes it ended in helicarriers made for HYDRA to control. Or a robot meant to protect only trying to destroy. Or in the fracturing of the Avengers, with Natasha and Steve on the run while the others sat in a max security prison that he spent every living moment trying to get them out of.
Except for now. Or maybe now too. Tony didn't know why Natasha had texted him. Only that she had betrayed him and texted only a couple of weeks later with a location out in Birmingham, England and nothing else but the message 'Get here quick.'
And he had. With nothing but a quick word to Pepper to keep Ross off of his aching back for a day, he'd stepped onto his plane and arrived in just over six hours. From there the billionaire had stepped into a waiting car and zoomed towards the address the spy had sent him, his heart racing just as fast as the vehicle's as he curved through city traffic.
Tony's thoughts strayed to Steve and Barnes and what had happened the last time he'd zoomed off to help his teammate. He swallowed down on his stuttering fear, reassured partly by the guantlet-watch sat snugly on his wrist and partly because he knew Natasha. Well, he knew her better than he ever had Steve anyway. Him and Natasha had fought, and there'd always been room for disagreements and anger, but at the end of the day they knew each other. And they were family.
The mechanic pulled up outside the run-down apartment complex, giving it a onceover before parking, pulling a baseball cap on low, and stepping out.
There was a drizzle, light and cold for the summer, even in England. He frowned, but only pulled his hood up with a shiver and stepped through the rusted metal gate, allowing him access to the first floor of apartments and a set of spindly stairs that he hoped didn't lead to any kind of locked door. He didn't exactly have a key, and Tony would prefer to not draw any attention to himself while here.
The man didn't need anymore grief from Ross. Not while he was desperate to pin something on Tony, and meeting with a violator of the Accords wouldn't exactly do much for his public image.
Biting on a sigh, Tony headed up the stairs towards the apartment number that Natasha had sent him. Thankfully, there was no locked door in his way, and the only person in the hallway that the stairs had led him to seemed to be much too out of it to pay him any mind. Quicker than he really would have liked, Tony was outside Apartment 9B, the number rusted and close to falling off of its hinges. Sucking in a breath, he knocked.
It only took a few seconds for the door to click! and then crack open just enough for him to catch familiar blue eyes and cropped platinum hair interrupted by a second lock's chain.
Natasha let out a short breath of relief, unlocking the door fully and opening the door just enough that he could slip inside. He glanced around the apartment once as she locked the door back up, surprised to see it was basically exactly what he had expected. It was small and old, orderly but not quite well-kempt, with evidence of past fights staining and fracturing the walls.
"Nice place," he commented. "Very runaway."
"Very last minute," Natasha responded. "It's not as easy as you think it is to get an apartment when everyone's trying to arrest you."
"You seem to slip away no matter what. By the way, how did you get away from Ross last week? I've got to know your trick on that, because I could use some pointers."
Natasha stopped beside him, a small smile tugging at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. Despite his forcefully loose and nonchalant posture, Tony felt himself freeze up looking at the Avenger. Her expression, no matter what it was, had always been hard for Tony to discern when she was practically the perfect spy. But now, this smile--it was sad and joyful and regretfully guilty.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice dropping to something softer. Rarely sincere.
Natasha glanced away from him to stare at a door for a moment before glancing back at him. Her lips twitched and her eyes threatened tears in a way that he hadn't thought she would express to him.
She swallowed. "Penny's alive. And I found her."
Tony--
Tony didn't react. Not for nearly a minute. Instead he stared, his entire body stilling--even his damaged heart--before he seemed to come back to life all at once like a broken wound-up toy.
The man stumbled back a step, falling into the nearest gray wall. One lonely breath coming in in a strangled gasp as he willed for something--anything--to make sense.
"She's alive?"
Natasha nodded.
"How?" he demanded. "How--in England? From New York? There's no way anybody could've just taken her while I was--"
The man cut himself off, dragging in another wheeze that rattled through his entire chest. His legs began to collapse under him, but his friend caught him, managing to maneuver him onto the floor slowly. Tony leaned against the wall as Natasha sat beside him, her head propped up against the wall beside him.
Neither said anything. Not for a few minutes at least at Tony's shaking and gasping ebbed. Not until he could force out images and nightmares of Penny his mind had tortured him with for years. He locked them in a box and dropped it in an ocean of useless thoughts, because his daughter was alive. Because she wasn't dead and none of it--a painful death full of fear and confusion while Tony was only blocks away that he had been tortured by for years--had ever happened.
Natasha spoke up when he'd finally managed to take in eight consistent breaths.
"I was raised in the Red Room," she started. "I was taken from my family and tortured for years. I tried to make a family there, and I did. For a little bit at least. But that family was taken too, replaced by the only world I had ever known. One based on pain and dictated structure. A cruel trick to play on a child, but it was normal for the Red Room. What wasn't normal was me not only succeeding more than they had ever dreamed, but succeeding past them. Escaping and deserting. Killing Dreykov was the last step of my defection to SHIELD. It was revenge and justice all at once. The others would be freed and I could clear out my ledger in a life I chose."
She swallowed, taking a moment.
"I failed. I failed and I didn't know." Natasha turned from staring ahead at the wall to stare at Tony. Suffering blue met broken brown, tired and guilty reflecting. In a whisper, she said, "Dreykov lived. He lived until a week ago. And the Red Room, and every Widow in it, lived under him."
Tony was touched to be trusted this much. To be trusted with even a sliver of what his friend had gone through in such a time of suspicion and betrayal. But he was scared. He was terrified, because Natasha never shared just to share. Everything she said had a point, a reason, a direction.
He tore his eyes away, shoving a hand over them and letting his head drop onto his knees. Unwillingly, he croaked, "No... Nat, please don't tell me--"
"Penny's a Widow."
Tony bit his lip, chewing on his cheek so harshly there was the tang of blood in his mouth. He took a moment, letting his head fall against the cracked and stained cement wall. Penny was alive. And she had been trained--no. Natasha's descriptions, however few and miniscule they had been, could not be described as simply training. Penny had been tortured. For four years. And what had he done but grieve and give up? If only he'd known. If only he'd found out sooner.
Natasha continued.
"The Red Room..." She took a breath and licked her lips. "After I escaped, they changed their whole system. Their method. How they hid and how they trained and--and how they controlled the women."
Something about the way Natasha said the last part sent a cold feeling down his throat.
"What did they do to her?" he croaked.
"They um...well, for lack of my understanding of it, they mind controlled her."
"They--Nat what? How would they even--"
"They controlled the brain’s neuropathways through external manipulation," came a new voice, their accent thick. Tony whipped his head around to stare at a woman he had never seen before. Like Natasha, she wore a regular hoodie and sweatpants but still looked as though she could take his life in less than a minute. There was an intensity about her, from her stance to her tied back hair to her ghostly blue eyes that stared at him suspiciously. "It was based off of blueprints for the Winter Soldier. Me and Natasha were part of the mission to retrieve them when we were young."
Despite the insanity of every new piece of information shot his way, he managed to piece it together in his head quickly enough that he opened his mouth to respond with a snapped remark, but Natasha managed to speak before he did.
"What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be looking after Penny."
"I was, but then I heard how badly you were explaining everything and I came to help." Natasha glared. "Relax. I finished braiding her hair and now she's pretending to be asleep so she can listen to everyone talking."
The last part was said with a pointed look down the narrow apartment hall, but everything after Natasha had said "Penny" didn't seem to make sense anymore.
"She's here?" he asked, already scrambling to his feet. He glanced between Natasha and the woman desperately. "Penny's here right now?"
"We found her yesterday," Natasha answered cautiously. "Me and Yelena just started to free the Widows deployed around the world. We managed to give her the antidote during a shootout in Estonia. After that a friend of mine managed to get us here."
"A shoot--is she okay?"
"Just a couple of burns," Yelena said. "She may be enhanced, but she still has plenty to learn. She could still kick your ass, though."
"Thank you. Truly," Tony said, a bite of sarcasm to his voice, before turning back to Natasha, his desperation bubbling. "Which room?"
"Tony, I don't think you need to just go bursting in there. Let me--"
Tony stopped listening, every word his friend was saying dying out on his ears as he spotted a brunette and wide brown eyes poking around the corner over Natasha's shoulder. He felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes clicked.
Penny had grown. She'd sprouted almost an entire foot from the short ten year old she had been, awkward and gangly limbs that the girl had always seemed to struggle with were replaced by obvious muscle and carefully controlled movement as she stepped out from behind the wall, their stare still holding. Despite the sharper angle of her chin and jaw, she still held baby fat in her cheeks that dwindled the look of her down by a couple of years, not helped at all by the familiar roundness of her deeply brown eyes.
He swallowed. His voice broke.
"Penny?"
"Penny?"
It had been years since Penny had seen her dad. Since she'd heard him. Anything about her father not privy to missions had been carefully shielded away from the teenager for years. Sometimes on the few missions she had been sent on she would catch news clippings and pictures on TV channels before she had to move on or that terrible voice in her mind would force her to ignore him. But, despite the scarcity of which she was allowed to know about her father, she had always thought about him.
Penny had swam in her memories whenever she could. Whenever she needed. She'd think about the games she and her dad had used to play. About lessons he'd taught her and days they'd spent together. About hugs and braided hair and kisses to her head. The memories had felt faint and washed away underneath everything, but she'd clung to them like a lifeline.
That being said, she hadn't expected Dad's voice to sound like that. For him to look like this. He was always so put together in her mind--so strong--even when he was messy from the lab or tired from a long day of work, always accompanied by fond child-like adoration. But now he didn't look it.
There were bruises on his face, faint but still noticeably purple. His hair wasn't as dark or thick as she remembered, growing back just a little higher on his hairline, and more lines grabbed and pulled at his face. But that wasn't what ruined her memory of strength and warmth, people aged after all, that was just reality. It was the expression on his face and glossing over his eyes. It was the way he'd said her name, so unsure and weary.
Penny, finally, looked away from Dad, instead glancing over at Yelena and trying not to look like she was too desperate for help. Yelena stared back, raising her brows and gesturing to Tony with a slight nod of her head, as if telling her to not be a coward. But Penny didn't know how to do that. Not now.
Thankfully, Natasha took over.
"I'm going to go get us some dinner. Yelena?"
Okay, so not the kind of help she'd been looking for.
Yelena gave Penny one last glance, nodded, and then followed the Avenger out of the door.
The door clicked shut and then it was just father and daughter.
"Penny," he tried again.
She hid a flinch at how small and tired his voice was, how broken he felt standing only feet from her. She hid her shock and her fear and apprehension exactly how she'd been taught, schooling her features into something easy and bored. She let her shoulders drop and her posture loosen, but the hardest part was hardening her stare. That had always been the biggest complaint of her handlers. Her senses had been sharp but her expression always so readable by her eyes.
"Hi, Dad," she said, her voice cool and casual on default. The words felt terrible leaving her lips, so she crossed her arms in an attempt to feel more stable. "It's been a while."
He chuckled, short and sad. "Yeah. You could say that."
And then there was silence. It trickled in, slow, awkward, and tense between them. Penny tried not to let it get to her, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't tired and disappointed. When Yelena had smashed the antidote beside her, it was the first time the teenager had seen clearly in a long time, and her first thought had been of her Dad. There had been worries about if he missed her and if he'd been okay, but a fear had stabbed at her so strongly that she was still thinking about it.
Would he still love her? After all she'd done? She had hurt people. She had killed people. Not in defense. Not in good reason. But in fear and control.
"I, uh..." Penny blinked at her dad's voice, beating away her thoughts and instead focusing back on the bruised and stuttering man in front of her. "Sorry. I would've thought of something better to say if I'd known I was going to see you again. Maybe some presents too. Do you still like those peanut butter cookies?"
"The ones we used to make?" she asked. "With the Hershey Kisses?"
"Those are the ones."
She shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't had them since I was with you."
"Oh. Yeah. I guess you wouldn't have..." he trailed off, glancing down for a moment. She stared at him, watching his expression carefully as he loosened and looked back up at her. "Well, we can't make them again? At home?"
"Sure. Sounds fun."
Penny couldn't stand how dull her voice sounds, like she couldn't care less about something that really made her want to cry in happiness. But...she didn't know what else to do. What to say. The Red Room had made sure she always knew what to do and what to say, but that had been for politicians and businessmen and people she was supposed to trick. She didn't want to trick her dad. She just--she wanted to--
Dad stepped closer, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down in a deep and concerned frown. She kept a wary eye on him as he approached, trying to force down feelings of apprehension and fear that she had become familiar with whenever anybody was in her space. But he stopped about a foot short, his reached out hand halting just away from her face as he whispered, "Oh, piccolina. It's okay." His voice broke. "It's okay. I'm gonna make sure it is... I promise."
And finally she broke.
And it hurt. It really, really hurt.
Penny leaned her cheek into his open hand as hot beads of tears caught on her eyelashes, allowing for Dad to cup his other hand around the back of her head and tentatively pull her in. It took the teenager a moment to adjust, so wired on the need to fight and never let her guard down, but then she just--crumpled.
Like a switch had been flicked, Penny buried her nose into his neck and wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze, swallowing down tears. Dad pulled her in tighter, his nose pressed into her tightly braided crown.
And then he sobbed.
It was a strangled, inhuman kind of sound that rumbled from his chest to escape the back of his throat. He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed, but Penny wasn't an idiot. She could still hear his heart thumping and feel a tear slip from his chin onto the back of her neck. It all shocked her, but the sound found itself ringing in her ears painfully more than anything.
She flinched in his hug.
"Oh, Penny. I'm so sorry," he apologized, his voice sore with tears. "So, so sorry."
"For what?" she asked. "Not finding me? You wouldn't have been able to, Dad, even being you. Draykov made sure of it."
"I don't care. I should've done something! I should've--I should've--"
"Dad." He fell silent as she pulled away from him, crossing her arms back over her chest as she came back to her training. Dad stared at her, his dark copper eyes as guilty as she felt. "Please, just... Don't be sorry. Because I'm sorry, and if you're sorry then we're both sorry and we can't both be sorry it's--"
"What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?"
"You'd be surprised."
"Penny--"
"I'm not ten anymore, Dad. I don't think I'm even a kid anymore... I've--I've done too much harm. I have a lot to be sorry for."
Dad stared at her, a familiar sadness in his eyes. He chewed his cheek, brows furrowed in thought, and she was brought back to a time when she would watch him solve problems in the lab, or try to answer one of her inane questions that she never seemed to be able to stop asking.
"Let me ask you something," he started. "Do you think I'm a bad person? That I'm at fault for losing you?"
"No," she answered immediately, because her dad had always tried, no matter what. She'd known he wasn't perfect, and that a lot of people hated him for the mistakes he'd made, but she'd always known how much he really cared. How much he really cared and tried for the world. For the Avengers. For her.
"Well, then what makes you a bad person? What makes you not a kid anymore?"
Penny could only stare. She could only answer, "I've hurt people."
"I know. And I have too. But you don't think I'm a bad person, so you're not a bad person either. And what about Nat? Or your new very scary friend?"
"I forgot how much I hated arguing with you," she deadpanned.
"'Trying' to argue with me," he corrected, a smile pulling at his face. Surprisingly, she managed to smile back. Even more surprisingly, it didn't feel fake. Sure, it was small and tired, but Penny couldn't remember the last time she'd actually smiled. "See? Everything's going to be okay."
"How do you know?" she asked. "I'm a violator of the Accords. If it ever gets out that I was part of the Red Room--what I did for the Red Room--almost nothing could keep me out of prison. You'll have to explain how you found me and it would make you a violator--"
"I'll handle it," Dad said. "I always handle it. And just because you don't feel like a kid doesn't mean you aren't one. There are protections for you. And we found protections for Nat. Wanda too, if she would've taken them." He muttered the last part under his breath, the words emotionless but regret and guilt clear in his eyes. He cleared his throat and looked back at her with a raised brow. "And how do you know about the Accords? Do they have a current events class in the Red Room?"
"We do actually have to keep up with some events for missions. But, no. I've been reading old newspapers. Did you know you were on the front page for almost two weeks in June?"
"No. Nobody reads the paper anymore. Unless you're a dinosaur anyway."
"Uncle Rhodey likes the paper," she said with that still small but still real smile. "For the crossword puzzles."
"Yeah. Like I said: Dinosaur." With that, the jokes seemed to slide away as he took on a more serious tone. "But I'll handle it. I've already been trying to handle the Accords. You'll be safe, and free, at home, Penny. I promise."
"I can really come home?"
Dad paused. "Did you think you wouldn't?"
Penny shrugged. "I don't know. I wanted to. I want to. But I just... I didn't know how safe it would be, and I know how to live by myself. How to avoid suspicion. I was...I was prepared for other options."
"If you were planning on running, why did you meet with me?"
"I don't know," she said. But truthfully, there had been a hole in her heart. A knot in her stomach. She'd just--she'd needed to see her dad. To apologize and let him know she was okay. She'd missed her family for so long, she had to imagine they'd missed her too. In fact, Penny had wanted nothing more to know they'd missed her. That those years in the Red Room wondering where her family was hadn't been because they didn't care.
Realistically, Penny knew Dad had missed her. Had loved her enough to grieve and look for her, but being there for so long--so terribly long--had been enough for seeds of doubt to sprout and root itself in her mind. But the teenager didn't tell her dad that. That would make him upset, and Penny was tired of being upset. Instead, she said, "Just missed you. Wanted to know that you're okay."
"Well, now you're gonna know every day," he said. "And you're going to know that Pepper is okay. And Rhodey and Happy. And you're never going to miss us again."
"Never?"
"Nope. Well, maybe when you go to school. But we can homeschool if you would prefer that. Would you?"
"Oh, uh, I don't--"
"Yeah, never mind. You don't have to know right now," he said with a wave. Then he smiled at her again, that genuine smile that squinted his eyes and pulled at his wrinkled laugh lines. "Right now, why don't we just go home?"
"Yeah," she said. And suddenly no other thought occupied her mind. Home was all she could think of. Of tall New York skyscrapers and the bustling city. Or maybe they'd go back to Malibu, even if his house was gone. Either way she'd see her uncle again. And Pepper. And Happy, who were all family to her. Family she hadn't seen in so long. "Let's go home."
Dad smiled, his eyes misty. Penny smiled back, taking his hand and leaning against him in another hug. He readily accepted, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.
The best part: Nothing about him whispered danger. Or discomfort or uneasiness. There was just...comfort.
Just home.
It was the best feeling in the entire world.
"Should we tell Uncle Rhodey we're on the way?"
"Nah. He loves surprises."
"He hates surprises."
"Exactly!"
Penny laughed. And the sound, the feeling, was just like home.