Chapter Text
Tony Stark was done.
The Avengers had been meeting for what felt like hours, discussing yet another mission, yet another threat, yet another reminder of the endless cycle they were stuck in. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, his thoughts kept drifting to his family—his wife, Pepper, and their two daughters, Penny and Morgan.
He hadn’t wanted to bring them to the meeting. But Pepper had insisted. And Morgan had refused to leave without her father. Penny, though, looked like she didn’t want to be there at all. She was a teenager now, and the constant judgment from the others had started to wear on her.
Tony shifted in his chair, already annoyed by Steve’s voice droning on about the team’s values. Trust, loyalty, blah, blah. It was the same old speech, the same accusations, as if every problem in the world were Tony’s fault. It didn’t matter what he did; they would always see him as the same reckless billionaire playboy—always the villain in their little fairy tale.
Before he could speak up, the door to the conference room slammed open.
“Tony?”
Pepper stood in the doorway, holding Morgan, her two-year-old daughter, in her arms. Morgan squirmed, her curly hair bouncing as she looked around the room, her big eyes locking onto her father’s face.
Behind her was Penny—his adopted daughter. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She stood there with arms crossed, a scowl on her face that had become all too familiar.
Tony smiled, feeling the weight lift from his shoulders. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, standing up as Morgan reached for him.
Morgan reached out, her tiny hands waving. “Dada!” she called out, oblivious to the palpable tension, her voice high-pitched and innocent.
Tony smiled, despite the undercurrent of hostility in the room, and reached for her, pulling her into his lap. She giggled, grabbing onto his arc reactor with the same force she used to grab his heartstrings.
Then Bruce, always the one to speak before thinking, scoffed. “Of course. Stark brings his personal mess into a mission debrief. How typical.”
Natasha leaned back, her arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow. “You have kids? Huh. Didn’t peg you as the ‘parenting’ type.”
“Didn’t think it was any of your business, Romanoff,” Tony shot back, his tone sharp but measured.
Clint, ever the snarky one, let out a dry chuckle. “What, you think this makes you more human? Maybe you should’ve just left the nanny to deal with the kid, Tony. You know, like you always do.”
Pepper bristled. “Excuse me?”
Steve, always the one to speak up when it mattered least, added, “You didn’t think this was important to mention, Stark? It’s a little hard to trust someone who’s been lying to us for years.”
Tony’s smirk faded. “I didn’t think it was your damn business, Rogers. That’s my family.”
And then Wanda, quiet until now, spoke with a voice that cut through the tension. “You think you deserve happiness, Stark? After everything you’ve done?” She shot a look at Penny, her gaze colder than a winter night. “And you—what? You think you belong here?”
Penny froze, her fingers clutching the fabric of her hoodie, her body language shouting uncertainty. She had heard this before. Not from Tony, but from everyone else. She’d been nothing but a liability to them since the day she arrived. A project. A way to fix the broken genius. And now they were looking at her like she was some stray dog Tony had decided to adopt for good PR.
Bruce sighed loudly, shaking his head. “Of course, Stark wouldn’t have a kid of his own. He’d just buy one like everything else.”
Pepper’s eyes burned with fury. “Watch your mouth, Banner.”
Clint sneered. “Come on, Potts, don’t act offended. We’re just calling it like it is.”
Penny clenched her jaw. “You’re just bitter because you don’t get it,” she muttered, her voice barely audible, but it was there—sharp, full of resentment. “You don’t want him to be happy. You don’t want him to have a family. You want him to stay miserable and broken, so you can keep blaming him for everything. But you never stop to wonder why.”
Natasha snickered. “Oh, sweetie. You really think this is about Tony being ‘happy’? You’re just another one of his charity cases. You’re lucky he even looked your way.”
Penny’s hands tightened at her sides, her nails digging into the fabric of her hoodie. She tried to stay composed, tried to block out the insults, but they were too sharp, too personal.
And then Steve—the ever-holier-than-thou Captain America—leaned forward and crossed his arms. “You really think he cares about you? Or are you just a new toy for him to play with until the next thing catches his attention?”
That was when Penny’s heart stopped.
She had told herself it didn’t matter. She had told herself she didn’t care what they thought. But when Steve said it out loud, it shattered something inside her. She wanted to believe, so badly, that Tony loved her like his own. But hearing it from Steve made her feel like she had been foolish, naive.
Bruce snorted. “She’s a liability. And we’re stuck with her, apparently.”
Clint leaned back in his chair. “We should’ve left her in foster care. At least then, Tony wouldn’t be dragging her around like a freak show.”
Penny’s face burned with shame. She could feel the weight of their words crushing down on her, pressing her further into the chair, her hands trembling at her sides. She had no defense. Nothing she could say would change how they saw her. She was just another broken thing to them.
But the room had gone dead silent.
Steve’s gaze swept across the family, his lips tightening as his eyes landed on Penny. “Didn’t peg you as the type to bring your personal life into a mission debrief, Stark,” Steve said, his voice dripping with disdain. “Guess it’s too much to ask for some professionalism.”
Clint snorted. “Yeah, what’s next? You’re gonna drag your whole family into a fight, too? Hell, maybe they’ll start helping with the missions while you sit in your comfy chair.”
Tony clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Watch it, Barton,” he warned, voice low and cold.
But Clint wasn’t finished. “Bet you let your little girl run the show at home too, huh? That’s the Stark way—spoiling them until they can’t tell their asses from their elbows.”
Morgan squirmed, but before Tony could stop her, she pointed at Clint with tiny, shaking fists. “BAD!” she shouted. “NO TALK PENNY!”
The room seemed to freeze for a moment, but then Natasha, sitting back with her arms crossed, scoffed. “Oh please, Stark. You really think you're ‘dad’ material?” Her voice was condescending, her eyes narrowed. “Your whole family’s just one big PR stunt. A way to clean up your image.”
Pepper bristled, her jaw clenched, but she stepped forward, placing a protective hand on Morgan’s back. “You want to say that again, Romanoff?” Her voice was dangerously calm, and everyone could feel the simmering rage beneath it.
Steve’s expression darkened. “You know, Stark, it’s one thing to be selfish, but to bring your children into this mess? I don’t know how you expect us to trust you after that.”
Tony’s hand clenched into a fist. “You don’t get to lecture me about trust, Rogers. You’re not in charge of me.”
Clint let out a derisive laugh. “Well, you might want to listen, Tony. Because you’re not exactly a shining example of responsibility. I mean, look at her,” he motioned toward Penny, “you actually think she’s ready for this life? She can barely handle a normal conversation, let alone a mission.”
Penny flinched, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She wasn’t just the adopted kid. She was an outsider, and with every degrading remark, every sneer from the Avengers, the panic started to creep in.
Pepper saw the panic in Penny’s eyes. She rushed to her side, speaking softly, her hands gently gripping Penny’s shoulders. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe.”
But Penny could barely breathe. The words were spinning in her head, each one a reminder that she wasn’t blood. She was just a charity case, just an adopted daughter—never truly part of the team, never truly welcome.
The tension in the room grew thicker. Steve, Clint, and Natasha had all ganged up on Tony. And Penny’s own mind was betraying her, filling with thoughts of rejection and self-doubt. She wasn’t just some girl—they were making sure she knew it.
Before Tony could say anything, Clint shoved Penny.
It wasn’t a casual push. It wasn’t just a shove to get her out of the way. It was deliberate, forceful, with every intention to hurt. Penny lost her balance, stumbling backward. She collided with a table and fell, crashing to the ground hard, her wrist snapping at an awkward angle. She screamed in pain, her eyes filling with tears, but her body felt like it was on fire—sharp, biting pain shot through her chest as she tried to move.
Morgan, standing just a few feet away, shrieked in terror. “No! No hurt Penny!” Her voice cracked with fear. She reached out for her sister, but her small hands couldn’t do anything to help.
Penny’s wrist was broken. Her ribs were cracked, her leg bent unnaturally beneath her. Blood trickled from the side of her mouth, staining her skin. Her body trembled uncontrollably as her vision blurred and everything around her seemed to spin.
“Penny! Penny, baby, stay with me!” Pepper’s voice was frantic as she kneeled beside Penny, cradling her head gently but urgently. She could feel the heat rising off Penny’s skin, the blood that had pooled beneath her body. “Don’t close your eyes. Don’t you dare close your eyes, honey.”
Penny gasped for air, her breath shallow. She could barely comprehend what was happening. Clint’s voice echoed in her ears, but it sounded distant now, muffled, as if coming from underwater. Her mind was spiraling. She could barely process what Clint had done—what they all had done.
Clint’s cruel chuckle still rang in her ears. “Can’t even stand up without help. Guess the Stark family is a lot weaker than I thought.”
Tony’s voice was low, venomous. “You ever touch my family again, Barton, and I swear, I’ll make sure you don’t walk for a long time.”
But Clint didn’t stop. He moved toward Morgan, who was still crying, her little face streaked with tears, reaching for Penny. Clint’s hand came down to shove her aside—
“Don’t you touch her!” Tony roared, lunging at Clint with a fury that made the air crackle. He was past the point of trying to be the bigger man, past trying to keep the peace. Penny was hurt. Morgan was hurt. And he wasn’t going to let them get away with it.
As Tony and Clint clashed, Happy was already on his feet, moving with a speed and precision that belied his usual calm demeanor. He grabbed Clint by the arm, pulling him away from Morgan with a force that sent Clint stumbling backward into a nearby wall. The noise of the impact rattled the room.
“Enough!” Happy shouted, his eyes blazing. “You hurt them, Barton, you pay.”
Tony bent down, pulling Penny carefully into his arms. Her eyes were fluttering, her body limp against him. He could feel the sharpness of her broken bones, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the mission, didn’t care about anything other than getting her out of here. Pepper helped, cradling Morgan against her chest as she took a step back.
“Let’s go, Tony,” she said quietly. “We’re done here.”
As they made their way to the door, Steve called out, his voice harsh. “Running away, Stark? Guess that’s what you’re good at.”
Tony didn’t even turn around. His voice, though, was steady and filled with rage. “No, Rogers. I’m leaving the trash behind.”
The door slammed behind them, leaving the Avengers to stare after them in stunned silence.
The atmosphere in the hallway was thick with the residue of tension and anger as Tony, Pepper, and Happy rushed toward the infirmary. The lights overhead flickered, casting a harsh, sterile glow that made everything feel colder. Every step Tony took echoed in the silence, but all he could focus on was the weight of Penny in his arms, her body limp and pale. Her breathing was shallow, and he could feel the broken bones pressing uncomfortably against his chest. The pain that radiated from her small frame made his heart twist in a way that words could never describe.
Pepper, holding Morgan close, followed right behind, her face pale with fear. The little girl was still crying, her voice trembling, and it only made the urgency in their steps sharper. Morgan had been hurt too—not nearly as badly as Penny, but the emotional toll of seeing her sister in such agony was visible in the way she clung to Pepper, her tiny hands clutching her mother’s shirt as though she could stop the world from falling apart by sheer force of will.
"Come on, come on," Tony muttered under his breath as they turned the corner into the infirmary. His pulse was racing. Every second felt like it could be their last to get help. His mind was a blur, but all he could think was: Fix them. Fix them now.
Happy was ahead of them, bursting through the door of the infirmary, calling out for Dr. Cho, who was already scrambling toward them with a team of medical personnel. Tony felt a surge of relief at seeing the doctors and nurses prepare, but the dread in his stomach still churned. Penny’s wrist was twisted at a grotesque angle, her ribs visibly swollen, and her leg—he couldn’t even look at her leg without feeling the bile rise in his throat. The blood around her mouth was only making it worse.
“Pepper, we need to—” Tony started, but his voice caught. He could barely get the words out.
Pepper was already a step ahead of him, gently placing Morgan down onto one of the examination tables. “Stay here with her,” she said softly to her daughter, brushing a hand through her curls. Morgan’s wide eyes never left her sister. “I’ll be right back, okay? You’re safe.”
The words were a lie. Morgan wasn’t safe—not really. Not while Penny was lying broken in Tony’s arms.
Tony stood motionless, his gaze fixed on Penny. She hadn’t said a word since Clint’s punch had sent her crashing into the table. It was as though the world had gone silent for her, too, her eyes unfocused, glazed with a mixture of pain and confusion. The doctors quickly wheeled Penny onto an exam table, starting to work around her, but Tony couldn’t tear himself away.
Dr. Cho stepped forward, her face tight with concentration. “Tony, I need you to step back.”
He didn’t even register the request. His heart was thundering, his mind fixated on the raw, human fragility of Penny in front of him.
“She’s broken,” Tony said, his voice low, ragged. “She’s broken and it’s my fault. I should’ve never—”
“Tony.” Pepper’s voice was sharp, like a crack of thunder. She placed a hand on his arm, pulling him back just a little so the doctors could work. “It’s not your fault. We’ll fix this. We’ll fix her.”
But even as she spoke those words, her own eyes were haunted. She was terrified. She knew what this could mean.
Dr. Cho motioned to the med team, signaling for them to stabilize Penny. The rhythmic beeping of machines filled the room, a cold reminder of how fragile life really was. Tony couldn’t focus on anything other than the sound of his daughter’s labored breathing. His own chest felt tight, his throat raw from holding back emotions he couldn’t afford to express in front of anyone else.
Meanwhile, Morgan, still clinging to the side of the bed where Penny lay, looked up at her mother with wide, pleading eyes. “Penny, no go away, please no go away,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Pepper gently wiped the tears from Morgan’s cheeks. She wasn’t sure if her daughter fully understood the gravity of the situation, but the panic was evident in her voice. “She’s going to be okay, sweetheart. They’re going to fix her, just like they’re fixing you.”
It wasn’t true. Not entirely. Penny’s injuries were severe—life-threatening even. Clint’s punch had done more damage than anyone could have imagined. Broken bones, internal bleeding, and the psychological toll of what had happened—it was all too much. And yet, Tony wouldn’t let the thought of losing his daughter creep into his mind. He couldn’t.
Dr. Cho stayed calm, issuing quick commands as the team worked to stabilize Penny. “We’re going to need to prep for surgery immediately. Stabilize her first, then we’ll address the fractures.” She turned to Tony. “I need you to step back now. We need space.”
Tony’s eyes darted to Penny, who still wasn’t fully conscious. Her fingers twitched ever so slightly, but her face was deathly pale. There was a split second of panic, as though she was about to slip away, and Tony felt the breath leave his body.
“I’m right here, kid,” Tony whispered, crouching next to her. “I’m right here.”
As Penny was wheeled away for immediate surgery, Tony stayed by Morgan’s side, the weight of everything pressing down on him like a vice. Pepper remained close, her own face a mix of exhaustion and silent fury. Clint had gone too far, and now they were paying the price for it. Tony could already feel the anger building inside him, the need for revenge—he couldn’t let this slide. Not after what had just happened.
But right now, the most important thing was keeping his family together. Penny needed him. Morgan needed him.
And no matter what happened, Tony Stark was not going to lose them.
_______________________________________________________
The hours in the infirmary felt like days. The soft hum of the machines surrounding them was the only sound, broken only by the occasional beep and the murmured conversations of the medical staff. Tony stood beside Morgan, who had long since stopped crying, her small body exhausted from the ordeal. Pepper sat on the opposite side, her hands firmly clasped around Morgan’s, though the subtle tremor in her fingers betrayed her calm façade.
The moment Penny had been wheeled into surgery, Tony had been forced to pull away. There had been no time for questions. No time for anything but giving the doctors room to save his daughter.
Tony had never been a man of faith, but in that moment, he silently prayed, hoping the universe would give him back his family—his broken, battered, and bruised family.
An hour passed. Then two. The uncertainty gnawed at him. He’d had no idea how badly Penny had been hurt, the extent of the damage until the doctors had started talking. When they’d mentioned fractures—ribs, wrist, leg—he’d felt his heart stop. The report had been even worse when they’d examined her lungs. She’d suffered blunt force trauma to her chest, and the force of Clint’s punch had caused several of her ribs to fracture, one of which had punctured her lung.
A collapsed lung was bad. But the reality? It had been even worse. There was significant internal bleeding. Penny had barely survived the first few minutes after the punch, her body slipping into shock. They were lucky she hadn't died.
Morgan hadn’t been spared the trauma either. She had a few bruises and scratches from when Penny had protected her, but the emotional toll was harder to see. The little girl clung to her sister’s absence, her eyes wide and distant, as if waiting for Penny to wake up and tell her everything would be alright.
A soft knock at the door broke the silence, and Dr. Cho stepped inside. Her face was calm, but her eyes told a different story. She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. It wasn’t a good sign.
“Tony,” Dr. Cho began gently, her voice even but laced with exhaustion. “We’ve stabilized Penny, but she’s in critical condition. The fracture to her lung was severe, and the bleeding—it was bad. We’ve managed to stop it, but…” Her voice trailed off, unwilling to give false hope.
Tony’s blood ran cold. He swallowed hard but didn’t speak. He couldn’t—his throat was too tight.
“She’s strong,” Dr. Cho continued, her eyes softening as she looked at Morgan, “but it’s going to take time. We’re keeping her sedated to help with the pain and the healing. It might be days before she regains full consciousness.”
Pepper reached for Tony’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. But the words stuck in his throat, the fear of losing Penny clawing at him. His chest tightened, his eyes locked on the doctor, waiting for her to tell him that she’d pull through, that this was just another challenge to face.
“And Morgan?” Tony managed to ask, his voice hoarse.
“Physically, she’s fine,” Dr. Cho replied. “There’s some bruising, but she’ll heal. Emotionally, though, that will take a little more time.” She paused, letting her gaze flick from one parent to the other. “She saw a lot today. She saw her sister…in a way no child should ever have to. I’d advise monitoring her closely for any signs of trauma.”
Tony nodded numbly, his mind flashing back to Morgan’s terrified cries. He’d failed them. Both of them.
“Can we see her?” Pepper asked, her voice quiet but steady, holding back the storm inside her.
Dr. Cho nodded, stepping aside. “For a few minutes. But she’s still under sedation. Don’t expect her to wake up right away.”
Tony’s stomach flipped. This wasn’t the reunion he’d wanted, but it was the one he had. He needed to be by Penny’s side, just as he needed to be by Morgan’s.
The door to Penny’s recovery room opened with a soft hiss, and the faint smell of antiseptic filled the air. Tony’s eyes locked onto his daughter, still pale, her small chest rising and falling steadily with the help of the machines. Bandages wrapped around her wrist, her leg was in a brace, and the doctors had done their best to stabilize her shattered ribs. But nothing could cover up the fact that Penny looked fragile—so small, so defenseless.
Tony couldn’t stop the choked sob that escaped his throat, despite himself. He’d always been a fixer, but this? This was out of his hands.
He approached her bedside, taking her hand gently, as though afraid she might break under his touch. “I’m here, kid,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here. Don’t you dare go anywhere.”
Pepper sat beside him, brushing a lock of hair from Morgan’s face as the little girl clung to her side. The bruises on her arms were fading, but her eyes remained wide with fear.
Tony glanced at Pepper, his heart aching for both of them. “She’s going to be okay,” he whispered more to himself than to her.
Pepper didn’t respond, but the gentle squeeze of her hand was all the reassurance he needed.
A soft breath escaped from Penny, and for a split second, Tony thought she was waking up, but her eyes remained closed. The beeping of the machines was steady, though. That was good. At least she was still with them.
“I’ll stay with her,” Tony said quietly, not looking away from his daughter. He couldn’t. Not after everything that had happened. Not after Clint, not after the team’s treatment, not after the trauma they’d inflicted.
Pepper kissed Morgan’s forehead, then leaned down to whisper in Tony’s ear. “I’m going to make sure the team knows exactly what happened here. This—what they did—will not be forgotten. We’ll fix this, Tony. I swear.”
And Pepper Potts did not make idle promises.
She had watched her daughter fight for her life, had held Morgan as she sobbed in terror, and had seen the pain in Tony’s eyes. That was enough to ignite a fire in her that nothing could extinguish. The Avengers thought they had been fighting battles before? They had no idea what was coming.
Pepper moved with precision. She pulled every Stark Industry resource, every connection she had cultivated over the years, and turned them into weapons. Systems, databases, supply lines—everything the Avengers relied on, she dismantled piece by piece. She cut off their funding, revoked their access to Stark tech, and shut down their communications with a ruthless efficiency that left them scrambling.
She wasn’t done.
With a quiet, measured fury, she exposed every mistake they had buried, every lapse in judgment, every casualty swept under the rug. The world had once revered the Avengers. Now, they questioned them. The press tore into them, governments hesitated to support them, and allies withdrew in the face of Stark’s overwhelming influence.
And then, she went further.
She made sure Clint Barton knew that his actions had nearly killed a child. She ensured Natasha Romanoff saw the consequences of her silence. She let Steve Rogers watch as everything he had fought to protect crumbled because of his negligence. She whispered in their ears the truth they couldn’t deny—Penny had nearly died because of them.
They had underestimated her. They had thought Pepper Potts was just the woman behind Tony Stark, just the CEO, just the mother. But she was so much more.
She was the woman who built alongside Tony, who knew every angle of power, who played the long game with a patience that outmatched all of them. And now, she was the woman who was going to make damn sure they never hurt her family again.
This wasn’t a war the Avengers could fight. This was destruction from the inside out. This was a mother protecting her cubs.
And when they finally came crawling—begging for a ceasefire—Pepper only had one thing to say.
“You don’t deserve mercy. But I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for the man who was too good for you, for the daughters you betrayed. Stay out of our lives. Because next time? I won’t be so forgiving.”
By the time Penny opened her eyes, the war was over. The Avengers were no longer a threat. And Pepper Potts had proven, once and for all, that there was no greater force on Earth than a mother protecting her children.