I Promise (Tony Stark Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

Isadora POV

"Isadora," I heard Steve call, "Your dad wants to see you." I got up from my spot on the floor and made my way to him. Placing my much smaller hand in his, he lead me to my awaiting father.

It had been a week since I arrived at the base, and I absolutely loved it here. Everyone was very admirable and welcoming, acting as if they've known me for an entire lifetime instead of a few days. I met Director Fury, Agent Phil Coulson, and a few other people who I enjoyed spending time with. But, I had to admit that Director Fury was a little intimidating, his stature and presence making you feel miniscule.

Steve held onto my hand tightly as we walked the hallways. Him, Natasha, Thor, and Bruce had become very good friends of mine in the short week. They looked out for me and cared for me as if I was one of their own. But, was I really?

"Here we are, sweetheart," he said as we stopped outside of the entrance to the lounge area. I saw my father through the glass door, sitting on the couch with his phone in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other.

"Thanks, Steve." I reached up and gave him a small peck on the cheek. He leaned down to kiss my forehead, ruffling my hair in the process. I huffed in annoyance as he let out a small laugh, turning around and striding back down the hall.

"You wanted me, Daddy?" I questioned as I stepped into the lounge.

I had started calling Tony "Daddy" on the third day I had been here. When I had first spoken the word, it was an accident. It seemed to just involuntarily flow out of my mouth. Tony had looked at me with complete and utter shock as I apologized profusely. However, he didn't say anything as he pulled me into a warm embrace. That was one of my favorite things, to be hugged by him. It gave me such a warm and cozy feeling deep inside, like it was his soul embracing me as well.

"Yes," he smiled, putting his phone and glass on the small table next to the couch. Opening his arms wide with invitation, I ran towards him. He wrapped his arms around me as he fixed me to where I was sitting sideways on his lap.

"So," he began as he took my frail hands into his much rougher ones, "Do you know what holiday is coming up?" His eyes, just like mine, were lit up with a sort of enthusiasm I hadn't seen before. It was beautiful to see, actually.

The rest of the group, even Pepper, had told me that my father was basically depressed before I came into the picture. He would get horrible nightmares and anxiety attacks, just like the last one I had witnessed. Honestly,  it had been one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I had never felt so useless and  . . . helpless. But now, he slept soundly through the night. Well, that's what Pepper had told me.

"Yes," I responded with an enthusiasm of my own, "It's Christmas." Daddy's eyes grew even happier as his smile widened.

"Yes!" he laughed out, "So you do know what that means, right?" I furrowed my eyebrows as I thought long and hard about the subject. What on earth was he talking about?

I shook my head as I gazed at him utterly confused. The light of enthusiasm slowly drained out of his eyes as his smile faltered. His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped slowly, almost as if he was trying to choke down a sob.

"It means," he began slowly, "It means that you get presents." My look went from confusion to shock in a split second. I knew about the tradition of Christmas; the present giving, the eggnog, the lights, and the carols. It's just . . . I had never had the opportunity to participate in such festivities. I had no one to send the holidays with, and I couldn't afford to so anyways.

"Oh," was all I could muster out of my lips. A barely audible sigh escaped Daddy's mouth, almost sounding depressed.

"Haven't you ever gotten a present before, sweetheart?" His penetrating gaze cut through me, as if he was looking into my soul. I didn't know such looks could even exist. No one had ever looked at me that way before.

Once again, I shook my head slowly. Suddenly, tears pooled in my father's eyes and threatened to spill over. Quickly reaching up, I wiped away a single tear as it made it's way down my father's cheek. A small smile appeared on his face.

"Why are you crying?" I asked him lightly.

"Because I'm sorry," he murmured quietly, "Because it's my fault that you've lived like this." I immediately shook my head in disagreement.

"No it's not. You did not know I existed until a week ago. How could it be your fault if it was something unknown to you?"

Daddy smiled wide. "You're so smart." He reached up and stroked my hair behind my ear. "Anyways, back to business. What do you want for Christmas, Isadora?"

"But . . . You've already given me so much. It would be greedy of me to ask you for something more."

I meant every word I had said. He had given me food, shelter, and protection. He had also given me something so precious, something that no one had ever given me before. . . He gave me love.

Daddy just threw his head back and laughed. What was so funny? Didn't he realize what he's done for me?

 "Sweetheart, you're the most unselfish person I've ever met. Now, what do you want for Christmas?" I knew that he would keep persisting. I had found out in this short week that my father always got what he want, no matter what.

Squinting my eyes in thought, I pondered my options for a few minutes. I wanted to ask for something I needed, not something I wanted. I liked to think practically rather than foolishly.

"Oh!" I said suddenly, "I know what I want."

Daddy looked at me expectantly as I opened my mouth to continue speaking.

"I want . . . a new . . . a new . . . a new pair of socks, please." I had lost all my confidence as soon as the first word left my lips. I wasn't used to asking for things, nor expecting to get them. It was just so odd and foreign to me that I didn't know how to react.

"Socks?" my father asked with a tiny hint of disbelief and sadness in his voice. Did I offend him?

"Y-Yes," I stuttered out nervously. "Mine are v-very holey. B-But that's only if you c-can. If you c-can't, then I understand."

Daddy looked at me with such an incomprehensible sadness. His eyes shown with true sorrow as he continued to gaze at me. He made that face often, as if something I always said saddened him. I didn't like to see my daddy sad.

"I'll see what I can do, sweetheart," He said as he tucked my head into the crook of his shoulder, hugging me tightly to his chest. Squeezing him back tightly, I smiled into his soft shirt.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"No problem, sweetheart." I felt him place a kiss on the top of my head. And at that moment, I could've sworn he glowed even brighter.

Literally.

*****

Hi, guys! I'm so sorry about not updating for such a long time. Anyways, Happy Thanksgiving! I'm so thankful for all of my readers. You mean so much to me! Please give me some feedback, I'd love to here your comments. I know this chapter was a little slow, but I kind of wanted to put more emphasis on Tony's and Isadora's growing relationship.

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Je t'aime. <3