─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Most of Stark Industries' employees would take one look at me and think I was living the best life.
Having Tony Stark as a dad, residing at the top of Avengers Tower, living in the lap of luxury, and having a guaranteed plan to graduate College by the age of seventeen...
But none of them knew that the one main con of having all that is the dread that engulfed me whenever the Avengers were out on a mission.
There was only one thing worse than having to sit patiently while the Avengers were out risking their lives for our safety.
That was knowing my father was out there with them.
What's even worse was the anxiety I felt every time he said goodbye, hugging me like it would be the last time he ever did. It triggered the dread I felt of not knowing whether or not he was coming home to me.
It started when I was ten, sitting through my dad's disappearance before he returned with a battery for a heart with the excuse of being half robot sent me spiralling.
And after what happened three years ago with Loki, things have only gotten more dangerous for the team. Meaning that I've grown more protective of my father.
So when he told me they'd be looking for the location of Loki's old staff, I didn't hesitate to grab hold of his legs and cling to him until he agreed to stay behind and let the rest of the team raid the Hydra base and get themselves killed... Presumably.
But it was to no avail as he easily dragged his foot along the helipad, shaking me off with a single thrust of his foot into the air each time.
This led me to where I was, pacing around the tower for hours, pulling on the roots of my hair and cursing at my inability to help.
Being literally powerless was the most inconvenient thing about being Iron Man's kid.
I couldn't wait any longer. How long had it been?
Did they say they'd be back soon?
What did they mean by soon?
A few hours?
The next day?
A month?
It was too much...
Luckily, before I could scratch the skin off my scalp, the sound of Jarvis' voice echoed from my computer to my earpiece.
"Miss Stark, they're landing soon."
"How soon?" I asked, not realising the obvious panic in my voice.
"Circling the tower as we speak."
I was out of that room without a second thought.
My bare feet leapt across the floors, hastily rushing through various hallways and staircases.
Greetings from the agents flew right over my head as I focused on the open entryway ahead of me.
I could feel my heartbeat pick up just as the Quinjet hovered down on the landing. The tip of its wings curled in on itself as the wheels made contact with the helipad.
"Whoa there!" An arm flew out before me. My feet stopped abruptly and I stumbled into the outstretched arm of Maria Hill. "Relax, Y/N."
I couldn't.
I watched as the ship's door opened so agonizingly slowly.
I was silently praying that he would step off the ship in one uninjured piece.
And when people rushed to the ship and pulled out Barton on a stretcher, my heart dropped.
I looked up at Maria who gave me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's not who you think it is."
What was that supposed to mean?
She pursed her lips at the sight of my frantic face, sighing before lowering her arm.
I dashed away the moment she did. My eyes eagerly scanned the heads that popped out of the ship, searching like a hawk hunting its prey.
An erratic-looking Hawk with wide constricted eyes and a severe lack of footwear.
Maria had already caught up, putting a hand on my back and leading me into the ship. A small smile had been sent my way from the passing God of Thunder.
A part of me was excited as I had never been allowed inside before.
But another part of me was afraid I'd get in trouble because I had never been allowed inside before.
But all worry was thrown out the window when the familiar fluff of brown hair peeked out from above the captain's chair.
"Dad!" I smiled so wide I could feel the sting in my cheeks. Maria patted me on the back, giving me the go and I ran over to him.
The chair spun around and my father had his arms open wide, catching me as I fell into his embrace.
My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he did around my back.
Just like that, I was at ease. Happy that he was alive and okay.
"Hey, Neoma. What did I tell ya?" He chuckled, using the nickname he gave me when I was a kid.
"You came back," I spoke quietly, savouring the embrace.
I felt his hand move up to my head, running it through the strands of my hair soothingly. "I always do, sweetheart. Like I'd leave the company in the hands of my fifteen-year-old daughter," he teased.
"I think I could do a better job running this place." The words rolled off my tongue smugly as I pulled away to cross my arms over my chest freely.
He tsk'd at me. "I'll remember that when I'm handing Stark Industries over to Pepper."
I tsk'd at him.
From across the ship, Maria cleared her throat. "Lab's all set up, boss."
"Oh actually, he's the boss," my father pointed a finger at Steve who peeked over his shoulder, crouched by some equipment. "I just pay for everything and design everything and make everyone look cooler." He grunted, getting up from his seat.
"Right..." I rolled my eyes and spun on my heels to leave. "I'll be in my room now that I know you're okay- oof!" I gasped when my body was crushed against my father's torso face first with his arm.
Steve ignored the witticism and pushed himself up off the ground. "What's the word on Strucker?"
"NATO's got him," answered Maria.
"The two enhanced?" Asked Steve.
"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins," Maria showed him via the tablet in her hands.
I huffed against the rough material of my father's maroon shirt, hitting the sides of my fist against his back as I struggled to breathe.
He only held me tighter. "Hey- hey! Come on. What? Just cuz you know I'm safe, you can go scurrying of? I missed my daughter too, y'know?"
I tried to speak-... Curse at him. Although, all that came out was a collection of incoherent sounds and grunts.
He pushed me off of him, giving me enough space to gasp for air. His hands were still planted on my shoulders. "I beg your pardon?"
"Said I couldn't breathe," I scrunched my nose at him.
"That was way more than 'I couldn't breathe.'" He scoffed before letting me go with a pat on my head. "Stay right here, won't ya?"
He turned away only when I gave a firm nod. He went to fiddle with a bunch of the jet's instruments while I plopped into the captain's chair, watching Maria and Steve exit the craft.
"How's school?" My father suddenly asked, not taking his eyes off the panel for a second.
"Really?" I grumbled, sinking into the uncomfortably hard seat.
"I want to make sure my daughter is as smart as I am if I want her graduating University at the age of seventeen," he shrugged.
"It's a bit too late for that, pops. I'm already fifteen and still in my supposed senior year of high school," I chuckled. "And I meant 'really' as in like... I'm being homeschooled by a sentient woman who can't teach me calc for shit," I shrugged.
"Don't swear... And you know risky it is to send you to a normal school," He finally finished whatever he was fiddling with and motioned for me to follow him out.
I hopped out of the chair and tailed behind as we stepped off the ship. "And who's fault is that, Mr. I am Iron Man," I mocked, speaking his name in a low dopey voice accompanied by jazz hands and an eye roll.
"I never sent you to school before that." My feet stopped in their tracks as my dad did the same, turning around to look at me.
"Though, now you've got me thinking that I should've. I can't hand Stark Industries over to someone who doesn't even know what the word 'Sentient' means," he booped my nose with the tip of his index finger before spinning back around and trudging on.
The annoyance had been wiped from my face when my brain processed what he had just told me. "Wait... It doesn't mean extremely old?" I called out.
He simply waved the back of his hand at me. "That's 'Ancient' you're looking for, Nugget!"
I pressed a hand against my forehead and let out a cry. "And to think, that the fate of the world would eventually fall into my hands..."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───