Illegitimate Prodigy

Lizzie's plan

In the few hours of sleep Annabelle got, her brain retreated to made up dreams of when her father was young— and raising her. As if he never truly left, and the Starks grew into a white picket fence family. Tony finally had proposed to Elizabeth, Grandpa had finally warmed up to the idea that Tony was his son-in-law.

Watching the coffee dribble into the glass pitcher, she momentarily fluttered her eyelids shut. Was it too dramatic to say that reality was now her nightmare? She craned her neck back, and then forward, stretching the knot that had formed between her shoulder blades over night. The swinging of the kitchen door opening and shutting was obvious, and it stopped her from moving at all.

This wasn't the moment to accuse Tony of anything. Her father—her dad. She didn't know what went on—why he didn't stay to raise her. Belle was angry at all three of her family members— even her deceased grandmother that said very little about Tony. Having all this come up made her forget she was still out for blood on the man that murdered her grandfather.

She greeted her the older Stark awkwardly, and he extended his attempt at an olive branch. Unfortunately, Tony was never very good at ice breakers... attempting to make a situation better with emotions. He didn't just do it with her, but also with Pepper. Rhodey... even Happy. The capability to just turn his emotions off, and only look at things with logic—to compartmentalize things into small boxes was baffling. It was a wonder how he became the person that he is today. Tony Stark. Iron Man.

The younger Stark extended her right arm to pull out a stool that sat at the island countertop. Her father didn't mimic this, just standing still. Setting down her black coffee, she adjusted her glasses on her face, her brown eyes reaching his matching gaze. "Why did you and mom have me?" Her tone was flat, but to the point. "Did she decide on her own? Did you discuss it?" There were so many details that made the situation all the more sticky. Each piece having its own reason, loyalty or betrayal.

Tony stared at first. It wasn't a blank stare, however. He was searching for a discerning answer— to scrape the surface. Feet carrying himself past the island, he grabbed a coffee cup from the cupboard above the machine. "At first—she decided on her own." Now facing back to back, Annabelle dropped her gaze to liquid inside her mug.  "My parents had just died...I.. I wasn't interested in having a child. A family. You're mother was much more willing to... probably because she wanted to marry me, as well."  The way he spoke made it evident he was cringing when saying the word ''marriage.' He came around her, taking the stool on the other side of the counter. "I was beginning to take control of Stark Industries— and my confidant Obadiah..." his voice faded, the right corner of his mouth pulling to form an uncomfortable smirk.

"Obadiah Stane?" Annabelle quickly asked, and Tony simply pointed an index finger in her direction with a nod.

"That's the one." He said resting his hand under his chin. "He wanted me to get rid of it."

"It?" The world burned at the tip of her tongue.

"You..." he hesitated "not just you, the situation."

"And you agreed?" She snapped a little, her eyes wide.

"Well, obviously I came to terms with having a child, Belle. I didn't want you—aborted" he cleared his throat. "I was in shock at first." 

"Okay.. go on."

She watched him shift uncomfortably on the stool, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Your mother and I played the roll of expecting parents, preparing for your arrival. Of course, being the Stark that you are..." he gave a small grin, taking a sip of his coffee. "You were impatient and wanted out. Your mother went into labor a few weeks early, and I had to rush on a flight to get to you both."

All of this was bittersweet to hear. Confusing and new. To think her father was actually present at her birth— made her feel almost special. At least for that moment in time. "We took you home, I believe two days after. I had bought a penthouse not too far from what is now the Avengers tower..."

"So you lived together?"

"Yes. Your mother insisted. It was short lived, however."

Annabelle's face became a little contorted. It was almost like finding out your parents separated when you were a teen but— it was finding out 24 years later. "How long?"

"A little less than a year. I traveled for work a lot— your mother didn't trust me to be loyal to her. She still allowed me to be around you though. Whenever I wanted."

Allowed him? Her eyes furrowed, her hands finding their ways to lay flat on the surface of the cold granite counter top. "Was that not always the case?" She said softly, knowing the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.

That was when her dad went silent. Belle wasn't sure if his eyes appeared to get more glassy when she asked that particular question. Was he tearing up? Tony could cry? Had it been all her mothers plan? To get rid of her father? "Dad." Her voice rose, this time it was stern.

Tony's stare had not faltered, his chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths in.

"No."