Every family has demons, but none of them seem to scream as loudly as they do in the Stark family.
Tony Stark is known for many things; a father being one of them. Before he was Iron Man, before he was the CEO of Stark Industries, before he was...
when you've been fighting for it all your life, you've been struggling to make things right, that's how a superhero learns to fly every day, every hour, turn the pain into power superhero ───the script
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stark expo, new york may 31, 2011
There is blood all over me and none of it is mine. Ivan has handcuffed me to a chair as he sits about five feet away. Two bodies hang from above me and their feet are touching my shoulders. The bodies have stopped suffocating and twitching which, as horrific as it sounds, is a small relief because that means I can't feel them kick against my aching back anymore. Quick and steady streams of blood are coming from the bodies above me and keep pouring on my forehead. I'm drenched in it and I've already thrown up once.
With his hood and sunglasses on, Ivan is sitting on the floor and working with a few wires that are under the tiles. His whips are spread out on a long table. They're looking a little worse than the last time I saw them and it's obvious he's been making repairs on them; Dad did a number on them during the Monaco attack. I can maybe take some hope from that. The longer it takes him to get his plans set into motion, the longer Dad has to find me and the longer I'm able to stay alive before becoming bait and eventual and literal grilled meat. Fun.
Suddenly I hear a phone dialing and ringing.
"Coulson," my father's voice echoes in my ears and I feel my chest swell, "How's the Land of Enchantment?"
"Hey Tony, how you doing?" Ivan laughs a little, "I double cycle."
Dad is quiet for a long moment, probably still absorbing the fact that this psycho is still alive, "You what?"
"You told me double cycle's more power," Ivan thoughtfully nods a little, "Good advice."
Dad breathes out and responds with sarcasm, "You sound pretty sprightly for a dead guy."
Ivan nearly laughs as he responds, "You too."
A small puff of air exits my nose as my eyes slowly close.
"Now, the true history of Stark name will be written," Ivan goes on when Dad doesn't speak, and he takes off his sunglasses, "What your father did to my family over forty years, I will do to you and your little girl in forty minutes."
I grit my teeth and blink through the red covering my face.
"Sounds good," Dad answers with pep, but I can tell he sounds a little distracted, "Let's get together and hash it out."
Lord, please help him to be tracing our location.
"I am already hashing," Ivan looks over his shoulder at me.
