❝Who am I?❞
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❝You're my daughter.❞
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❝Then how come your never there for me?❞
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛 Isabella Stark, Tony Starks
daughter, becomes closer to he...
the traffic lights, they turn on blue tomorrow and shine their emptiness down on my bed
jimi hendrix ⸻ the wind cries mary
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Monaco May 27th, 2011
The prison was dimly lit and cold. As they walked down the cement hallway, their footsteps reverberated off the walls and seemed to travel on for an eternity. Bella walked beside her uncharacteristically stoic father, surrounded by a group of prison guards and personnel. The events of the day had left her with an empty feeling of numbness and shock. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep, but she knew if she closed her eyes the sight of her father tangled up in those electric whips would fill her mind. She could still hear the clang of metal, the sizzling of sparks and Pepper's screams echoing through her brain.
She did have time to go back to her hotel room, shower and change. So luckily, she wasn't wearing the same torn, dirty and ruined sun dress. Still, her arms were covered in small cuts, bruises and burns and her whole body ached. Her father appeared to be in the same shape, but he had a nasty bruise on the right side of his face.
Her father had insisted she accompany him to visit their attacker in prison. Although she didn't see the point, she was too exhausted to put up any sort of protest and begrudging tagged along with him.
"On a vérfié ses empreintes et on n'a rien trové, meme pas son nom." We ran his print. We got nothing back, not even a name. One of the police officers spoke in French.
"Oú allons-nous?" Where are we going? Tony questioned the officer.
"Par lá. En fait on ne sait meme pas s il parle. Il a pas dit un mot despuis qu'il est arrivé, pas un son." Over there. We're not even sure he speaks English. He hasn't said a word since he got here. He pointed towards one of the doors lining the hallway.
"Cinq minutes." Five minutes. Tony held up five figures. "Come on Bella." He beckoned her over in English.
Bella took a deep breath as the door slowly opened. The idea of facing the man who had just tried to kill her and her father not hours before unnerved her. She wished she had just stayed back with Pepper at the hotel but there was nothing she could do about it now. She rolled back her shoulder, set her jaw and followed her father into the room.
The prison cell was dark, damp and dingy. In the center of the room was a bench. On it, sat a man hunched over and wearing nothing but a pair of underwear. His shoulder length black hair fell in front of his face, obstructing Bella's view of him. But she could clearly see the rest of his body, which was littered with tattoos and scars. He didn't acknowledge them at all as they entered and instead continued to stare at the floor.
