fox (iron man's daughter)

15

tony's p.o.v

as soon as we get back to the towers i set to work. every tiny piece of evidence that i possess is scoured for any signs of her whereabouts. photos of the house are scattered across the floor of my lab, i have a recording of the facetime call playing on repeat. pepper sits across the room, watching the news for anything that could aid us. bruce is running tests on the photos and scraps of evidence. i sift through everthing, cringing when i come across the blood sample from the wall. i don't want to run tests on it, because if it's her then i'll know for sure that she's in pain.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y run identification" i place the sample on a small screen, watching as a blue light flashes over it and code runs across one of the computers in front of me. the scan finishes, but F.R.I.D.A.Y doesn't respond. growing impatient, i clear my throat "so?" i press. pepper looks up from across the room, clearly twigging that something isn't right.

"the blood matches with that of miss fox blue stark"

"oh my god" pepper breathes as i run a hand through my hair. this makes it real, that's her blood..

my thoughts are cut short by an abrupt outburst from bruce "what did you just say?". pepper and i turn to look at him, he's been mostly silent since we came in here, speaking up only to ask small questions about fox's height and various other things.

"don't make him repeat it" i grumble, knowing full well that i'm on the edge of a full on meltdown which i don't have time for right now.

"no no, stark, you called her miss stark" bruce pushes.

i frown, realising that he's right but more annoyed than confused "F.R.I.D.A.Y she doesn't like being called stark, her surname is brooks" i correct him irritably.

"not anymore" he projects an image of fox's birth certificate in front of us "fox hacked into the database last night and legally changed her name to stark".

i almost smile, for a multitude of reasons. one being that she wanted to be a stark, she didn't want to try and differentiate herself anymore, the other being that though she tries desperately to distance herself from her mother in any way possible, she doesn't realise how alike herself and i are, she hacked into government files to change something so petty as a name. but i don't smile, because somewhere she's hurt, alone, and probably scared and she put her trust in me.

"sir you have a message" F.R.I.D.A.Y takes down the projection and i avert my eyes back to my work. i have to focus.

"if it's not from fox i don't want to know" i quip, unwilling to spend my time on people who'll just waste my time.

"divert it to me" pepper orders from across the room. it's funny how hard habits are to drop. though technically pepper now owns stark industries and we're in a committed relationship, she still keeps some of the patterns she held as my assistant; that includes reading mail i can't be bothered with.

my train of thought is disconnected when my girlfriend gasps from across the room, her hand flies to her mouth and she closes her eyes. "pep? what is it what's wrong?" i jump up and move over to her, sitting down and taking her tablet out of her hands, looking at the image projected on the screen.

you can't un-see anything, and i don't think i'll ever get over the image of my child lying crumpled at the bottom of the same stairs i was at half an hour ago, blood running down her forehead, looking as though she's just sleeping. the irony of the cheerful yellow walls is painful, a harsh contrast to the crimson red spattered against it. she must've hit that wall with some force for that to have occurred. there's a caption, the words twisting themselves into my brain 'shame, we all thought that little miss stark would put up more of a fight'. my hand trembles furiously, a sense of horror and panic overwhelming my body.

"tony, tony breathe" pepper places a hand on my chest tentatively "look at me tony" she lifts my chin with two fingers, forcing my eyes to hers. "breathe" her voice is soft and soothing, temporarily making everything border-line okay.

though it can't last, i need to focus on finding fox.

***

days pass, no news, no evidence, no leads. essentially, we're in exactly the same place we were the night she was taken. the guilt is eating me alive, i failed to protect her and i wasn't there when she needed me. everyone keeps trying to persuade me that there's nothing i could've done but i've heard their whispers, i know what they think. they're convinced that by now she must.. she must've given in. they don't think that she can have held on for this long. i know they're wrong, they have to be. she's a stark, if she's anything like me then she can hold on for a while longer. she has to hold on for longer.

i've hardly slept, and it shows in my reflections. dark circles rim my eyes, my hair tousled and i'm wearing the same clothes i was three days ago. pepper has tried to get me to move, shower, eat, to no avail. she's tired too, another thing that i'm guilty about. she gives me sad smiles every so often, i think they're supposed to be encouraging.

everyone panics when another message comes through. we aren't sure how to react at all, everything had gone silent and now this, it's like they want to keep me on edge. they do want to keep me on edge.

it's a video this time, F.R.I.D.A.Y projects it onto the big screen and we all gather round. 

fox lies unconscious on an operating table. the gash on her forehead has been carefully stitched, clearly by a professional, thus confirming my fears that these people know what they're doing. this isn't just an every-day-ransom-kidnapping, they want results. she's wearing the same thing she was when they took her, a yellow t-shirt with white flowers on it and grey leggings, her hair braided into french plaits. she looks peaceful, which unsettles me. i've learnt that it doesn't last. her wrists are clamped to the table, the same with her ankles and her waist and i'm reminded once again that she's in pain and danger. anger courses through my vains as a masked figure walks into view, carrying a needle. the liquid inside is blue, almost giving off a luminescent glow which makes the space eerie and harrowing. the figure gives a nod to the camera, almost mocking me, before walking over to me unconscious daughter. refraining from closing my eyes or shooting a fist through the screen, i watch as they carefully and precisely insert the needle into a vein on her arm, pushing the liquid through. fox doesn't stir, still just lying there. i feel sick to my stomach as the video ends, the image reverting to the lock screen of pepper and i in vegas. 

at the time, we didn't know that things were only about to get worse.