chapter xxii.
( iron man 2 )

all we do is   hide away,
all we do is chase  the day,
all we do is lie and wait,
all we do is feel the faith.
all we do ─── oh wonder

stark mansion
may 23, 2011

TRIGGER WARNINGS

depictions of mental illness & violence

"The notary's here! Can you please come sign the transfer paperwork?" Pepper asks, typing on her phone.

"I'm on Happy time," Dad waves her off, still bouncing around the boxing ring with Happy as his punching bag, "Sorry."

As Dad and Happy continue to spar in the ring, I flip through this morning's tabloids that were filtered through by Jarvis so that I could read each one that mentions either my dad or me. Some of these stories are so ridiculous that I find myself actually giggling about some of them. Then they have so many random photos of the two of us in random places when we didn't realize there were cameras. The funniest one is Dad holding his dress shoe in one hand while scratching the bottom of his socked foot with his other. He looks like he's struggling to not fall over and his teeth are visibly clenched as he struggles to satisfy the itch.

"What are you reading?" Happy calls out as he dances around Dad, both with their fists up.

"The tabloids, it might-as-well be the funnies though. It's about us, Dad," I respond, not looking up at them, "Apparently, you and I once robbed a gas station. We stole a bundle of hundos and some slurpees. They're calling you 'unfit' to be my parent because of it," I giggle, "They say you're mentally disorientated and have kleptomania. They say stealing is how you got the designs for the Iron Man suit."

"That's not funny," Dad responds over his shoulder, landing a punch on Happy's padded jaw.

"It kind of is though," Happy says, glancing at me, "He's traded the ski-mask for the Iron Man mask."

I laugh before I put on a deep, masculine tone, trying to imitate my father, "I am Iron Man, but also on weekends I knock over liquor stores."

"So that's how you've accumulated your massive wealth!" Happy looks at Dad with wide, knowing eyes.

I laugh again. Dad lands a cheap shot on Happy, probably because of our teasing. As they continue bickering and fighting, I smirk and I look back down at the magazines. I suddenly hear the gloves stop hitting the padding so I glance up in confusion. Both Happy and Dad are looking across the room at the doorway.  I follow their gaze to find a red-haired woman standing there. She's wearing a way too tight of a shirt, one that my own father would never let me wear. She looks at them before slowly walking down the steps in her heels and making her way over to where Pepper stands beside me.

"I promise you this is the only time I will ask you to sign over your company," Pepper announces with a smile as she begins filling things out that the other redhead hands her.

I scowl at Dad as he still stares at the woman with interest.

Happy taps him on the back of his hooded head, "Lesson one. Never take your eye off,"

Dad promptly gives Happy a hard kick in the stomach. Happy launches back against the pole with a grunt. They continue for a few minutes before Dad calls it.

He then points a glove out to the redhead, "What's your name, Lady?"

"Rushman," she answers him confidently, "Natalie Rushman."

Dad drinks some of his water bottle and lifts the ropes of the boxing ring, "Front and center. Come into the church."

"Seriously? Dad," I groan.

"No. You're seriously not gonna ask," Pepper shakes her head.

"If it pleases the court, which it does," Dad answers, waiting patiently to be obeyed.

Natalie Rushman quickly assures Pepper, "It's no problem."

"I'm sorry. He's very eccentric," Pepper sighs.

I scoff and bury my nose back into the tabloids, but can't stop myself from looking as Dad and Natalie Rushman stare into each other's eyes. I scowl hard and the sides of the magazine slightly char under my angry, hot grip. My palms are sizzling and I try to blink the pain away. Pepper sits down on the chair on the other side of the small table and watches them with a similar aggravation and, dare I say, concern. When Dad makes his way over to us, he squeezes onto my small chair.

I release a loud yell of disapproval, "Ach, Dad, no! You seriously smell like a boy's smelly sock!"

"Psh, how would you know how that smells?" Dad doesn't look at me, still watching the woman chat away with Happy.

"I've lived with you for twelve years, that's how," I scowl at the side of his face.

He ignores me and says, "Pepper, who is she?"

"She is from legal. And she is potentially a very expensive sexual harassment lawsuit if you keep ogling her like that."

"It's getting creepy, Dad," I say with an informative nod.

"I need a new assistant, Boss."

"Yes, and I've got three excellent potential candidates," Pepper informs him, "They're lined up and ready to meet you."

"I don't have time to meet. I need someone now. I feel like it's her."

"Of course you do," with that, I try to use my hip to push him off the couch.

"No, it's not," Pepper dismisses him.

Now he ignores us both to call out, "How do I spell your name, Natalie?!"

"R-U-S-H-M-A-N," she answers back.

"What, are you gonna google her now?"

"I thought I was ogling her," he snidely responds.

"Ha, clever," I tell him with a straight face.

Dad slides through Natalie's resumè, "Wow. Very, very impressive individual,"

"You're so predictable, you know that?" Pepper scoffs as she narrows her eyes at him.

"She's fluent in French, Italian, Russian, Latin," Dad begins to list off before pulling a face.

"Who speaks Latin?" I raise an eyebrow, "No one speaks Latin."

"No one speaks Latin," Pepper agrees with a sigh, "It's a dead language."

Dad keeps jabbering on until suddenly Natalie completely takes Happy out.

And I mean out. It's insane. Pepper and I both gasp in shock while Dad cheers. Natalie quickly gets back up to her feet, smoothly dusting herself off in the process. After jogging over, I slide under the ropes and try to help Happy up from where he lays on the mat.

"I just slipped," Happy quickly defends.

"You did?" Dad replies in a mocking tone.

"Yeah," Happy holds his back as he stands beside me.

Dad clinks against a metal pole to make a ringing noise, "Looks like a TKO to me."

Natalie suddenly goes up to him and holds out a folder for him, "Just, um, I need your impression."

Dad begins to list off how he sees her, "You have a quiet reserve. I don't know, you have an old soul,"

"I meant your fingerprint,"

"Right,"

I scrunch up my nose and squint my eyes at his flirting.

Pepper steps up, "So, how are we doing?"

"Great. Just wrapping up," Dad finishes pressing his thumb on and signing the papers before looking up at Pepper, "Hey. You're the boss."

"Congrats, Pepper," I cheer quietly.

She smiles at me, "Thank you, Lees."

Natalie closes the folder and smiles into Dad's eyes, "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

"No,"

I quickly interrupt, "Yes, that will be all, Miss Rushman."

Dad sends me a confused and an irritated look to which I ignore.

"Thank you very much," Pepper adds as the woman nods and walks away.

After he watches her go, he turns to Pepper to say, "I want one."

"No," Pepper and I simultaneously stretch out the word.

I can't sleep that night. I know we're going to be heading to Monaco tomorrow which should be, frankly, awesome. I've been to a lot of places, but never to the south of France. Princess Grace and Cary Grant come to mind whenever I think of Monaco. It's going to be a blast, I just have this feeling. But it's not the excitement for the trip that keeps me awake at 2:45 a.m. It's my thrusters. They hurt so badly that I just can't seem to close my eyes. No amount of pain medication is doing the trick either.

I just want them gone.

So I make my make down to the workshop.

I take a deep breath as I pull the black gloves off of my hands. A low moan escapes me as I see that skin around the metal rims is inflamed and a dark red in color. I wince and squeeze my eyes closed, feeling nauseous. I got to get these thrusters out. I nod in determination as I carefully pick a couple of knives and pliers. I make sure to disinfect each one of them; the last thing I need is some kind of wacky infection. I grab a couple of paper towels and put them into my mouth, giving me something to bite down upon if and when I need to.

It takes me a few minutes to work myself up to what I do next. I bring the blade of the knife down into my skin. I cry out a little as I slowly bring the blade up my left wrist a little. I can at least be thankful now that the wires glow whenever I get upset because it's helping me see where I should cut. Blood streams out of my small cut and trails down my arm and trickles onto the worktable. The pain increases and my palms begin to burn. I grit my teeth into the paper towels, trying to hold in my cries of pain. I dig the blade it further, trying to locate the wires underneath my flesh. When I realize just how deep it is, I decide that I'll give that arm a break and try it out on the other. My hand trembles and blood is all over me as I cut into my right wrist as well. It gets to the point where I finally cannot handle the pain anymore. I slam the side of my hand down onto the table, groaning loudly.

I spit out the paper towels, mumbling to myself, "Okay, okay, okay, it's okay. I just gotta bandage you bad boys up, hm?" I groan again at the stinging pain.

I pull my wrists to my chest as I stumble to the first aid kit on the wall. I fumble to get it open and dump most of the contents on the floor.  Awkwardly sorting through them, I get blood everywhere until I find the liquid bandage and gauze. It's difficult to correctly apply what's basically liquid stitches, but, once I'm all glued up, I begin to wrap the gauze around me. I stop halfway through my first wrist when the door whooshes open. My wide eyes look up to see Dad tiredly walking in before plopping down at his work station. He presses his thumb against something and begins to chat with Jarvis about blood toxicity or something. I'm honestly not really listening; I'm trying too hard to be quiet and to finish my work here without being caught. He's just reaching underneath his shirt for his arc reactor when he catches sight of the red-stained tools and blood puddles on and around the worktable.

"Jarvis?" he calls out in a low voice, "Whose blood is this?!"

"Mine,"

"Miss Stark's, Sir," Jarvis answers at the same time as me.

Dad whirls around at the sound of my voice. I try to imagine what I look like. My brown hair is tangled and thrown up in a messy bun. I have blood smeared across my forehead from when I was trying to scratch an itch. My legs are spread out in a v-formation and medical supplies surround them. My arms aren't currently bleeding, but I have enough blood on me to make it look like I'm dying. The way Dad looks is just as concerning. He's completely frozen as he watches me with wide, horrified eyes. He's awfully pale in the face too. Without breaking eye-contact, I finish wrapping up my second wrist.

"Lisa," Dad says slowly and carefully, like I'm a deer about to leap into the road in front of his car.

I look down at my bloodied body and decide that I most certainly do not want to discuss what I just did. I remember what he and the doctors told me in the hospital. They told me they could never remove the thrusters and wires, but I just needed to try it for myself. He won't understand and I am not in the mood for a lecture.

"Welp, I should go shower," I painfully push myself to my feet, "Night."

I sprint out the door before he can say anything else.

On the flight to Monaco the next morning, he pretty much stares at me the entire time. I awkwardly sit in my seat, pulling at my long-sleeves that are trying to hide my bandages. I try to glance at him a few times, but then I chicken out and quickly look back out the window.

Pepper and Happy notice the odd air hovering over us, so they keep to themselves for the entire flight as well. Dad almost says something once. It's in the second half of the flight and I am finally getting sleepy. I'm mid-yawn when he sits down in the chair across from me. I immediately clamp my mouth shut and stare down at the floor with unmatched intensity. He breathes deeply and, out of my peripherals, I can see his hands tapping oddly at the armrests.

"Babe," is all he gets out.

He stops. Then he stands and leaves. Pepper gives me a strange glance, but I simply shrug, claiming to not know why he's so weird. I look back out my window at the awakening sky. My teeth munch at the edge of the gloves before I remember that these are, in fact, not my fingernails. I let out a sigh and curl back into my seat, trying to go back to how sleepy I was before Dad tried to talk to me. It's no use.

When we finally land in Monaco, it feels as if we're already up and running. We just stop by the hotel to freshen up and change, and then we're supposed to meet up in the suite's living room so we can go again. Dad is naturally wearing a suit while Pepper wears a pretty, but very professional dress. I struggle a little more when it comes to choosing an outfit because of the whole sleeve situation. The last thing any of us need is questions about why my wrists are bandaged, especially when the media is already all over us because of the whole Iron Man suit government situation and as well as the fact that Iron Man's fifteen year old daughter now has the ability to murder people. Yeah, probably not the best time for this. I pull on a floral print dress that has sleeves that goes past my wrists and meets my black gloves. It's like my entire body is covered and I hate it.

"Hey Lisa, are you ready?" Pepper looks up at me with a smile as I enter the room.

When I say that I am, Happy leads us from the room and down the hallway to the elevator. The lobby goes by us in a flash, but I can still see a bunch of other tourists or even hotel workers gazing after our entourage as we pass. I duck my head and slide in between Pepper and Dad so that I can be a little less visible. As my shoulder brushes against his, Dad glances down at me with another one of his strange expressions. When I look up to meet his eyes, he hurriedly turns away.

Dad throws a peace sign as we exit the car as the rest of us move away from the shouting crowd. Cameras flash in our faces as we move up the steps of the fancy restaurant. I do my best to grin at the cameras without being blinded.

As we enter the doors, I see Dad lean over to Pepper and mumble, "Whatever happens the next twenty minutes, just go with it."

"Go with it? Go with what?" Pepper asks, confused.

I feel my face scrunch up into a scowl when a very familiar redhead appears before us with a smile, "Mr. Stark?"

"Hey," Dad tilts his head at her with a smile.

My palms burn. Is he an idiot or what? Literally, it's like one step forward, two steps backwards with him. He and Pepper were just laughing together in celebration, pure and simple. They've worked together for nearly as long as I can remember and it wouldn't take a genius, like my own father, to recognize that Pepper is pretty much my mother. She's raised me and loved me more than my biological mother ever did. So, if she's pretty much my mother and he's obviously in love with her, what is his deal?!

Natalie Rushman continues to stand professionally as Pepper and Dad take a few drinks from the waiter, "Hello. How was your flight?"

"It was excellent," he answers excitedly, "Boy, it's nice to see you."

I almost gag.

"We have one photographer from the ACM, if you don't mind," Natalie takes the glasses from Pepper and Dad before carefully positioning me between them for the photo, "Okay?"

I force a smile so much that I'm surprised my teeth don't shatter from the pressure.

Pepper mumbles over as she smiles for the reporters, "When did this happen?"

"What? You made me do it."

"I made you do what?"

"You quit. Smile," he nods to me to look at a specific lens, "Look right there. Stop acting constipated. Don't flare your nostrils."

Right after the camera flashes, I send a sharp elbow into his ribs. He grunts lightly before glaring down at me and pursing his lips. We scowl into each other's eyes, neither of us saying anything.

"You are so predictable. That's the amazing thing," Pepper shakes her head before she turns to talk to someone else.

Natalie motions to Dad and me, "Right this way."

He leaves my side so he can walk by her, "You look fantastic, by the way."

He doesn't change. It's like he's reverted to something that I haven't seen since long before Afghanistan. I feel like all I've done in my life is get my father and then lose him again. He's always just right beside me, but just too far for me to reach. I got my father when he took me in as a little girl, I lost him after the car accident, I got him back when Pepper and Aunt Peggy confronted him about it, and then I lost him again when he announced himself as Iron Man. Sometimes I wish I had never gotten him at all because then I wouldn't know the difference and it wouldn't hurt so much. But he's back to who he used to be. And it's hurting Pepper and it's hurting me.

"Why, thank you very much," Natalie replies in her dumb tight, red dress.

"But that's unprofessional."

"Like you care," I mutter just loud enough for them to both hear me.

"What's on the docket?" he moves on.

They continue going on as I zone out. Dad chooses a table for us even though I'm not exactly sure that's how it works, but he's Iron Man so whatever. Sighing inwardly, I shake my head at my bitterness. As I glance around, I notice that the entire room is full of the same-old-same-old business, wealthy people. I sigh out loud this time and wish for nothing more than to be at home in our living room where we can just sit and watch a movie with Pepper and Rhodey. I quickly leave from where Dad and Pepper are standing so that I don't have to hear them bicker anymore.

"Oh my gosh, Lisa Stark," a familiar voice says a little too energetically.

I inwardly sigh before putting on a smile and turning to see Justin Hammer standing at my hip.

I reply in his same tone, "Oh my gosh, Justin Hammer."

He laughs as if this the funniest thing ever and I look around to see that people are now glancing at us. Dad raises an eyebrow in our direction, but I look away from him.

"Lisa, Lisa, Lees," he shakes his head and sighs contentedly.

"Yep," I nod, trying hard to be polite, "That's my name."

Don't wear it out, I add in my head.

He gives another smile, revealing all of his whitened teeth, "How have you been since we last saw each other?"

"Oh, you mean at that court hearing when they tried to steal my father's work?"

He gives another laugh, but doesn't say anything.

"Dandy, and you?"

"Wonderful!" he then motions to the bar, "Why don't you sit down and have some lunch with me?"

"Um," I frown, but I don't get to finish.

He throws an arm over my shoulder and speaks in a much louder tone than necessary, "Oh, you are so great, Lisa."

I notice a few cameras trained in our direction. Publicity stunts suck. Our families are not friends.

I duck out from underneath his arm, "Thanks for the offer, Justin, but,"

Before I can continue, Justin leads me over to where my father and Pepper are standing by the bar as well, "Anthony! Is that you?"

"My least favorite person on Earth," Dad mumbles before shaking his head in irritation and looking at Pepper, "Help."

"Hey, Pal, how you doing?" Justin pats a hand on my father's back, "You're not the only rich guy here with a fancy car," he motions behind him, "You know Christine Everhart from Vanity Fair. You guys know each other?"

I look over my shoulder and see that nasty woman walking towards us with a smile. I don't even try to hide my groan as I roll my eyes towards Dad. He keeps a straight face and doesn't speak, barely acknowledging her.

"Yes, hello," Pepper speaks for the three of us, nodding her head politely.

Justin points at Pepper and leans to Christine as if he has the inside details, "BTW, big story. The new CEO of Stark Industries."

"I know," Christine holds her hands in front of her as she nods, "I know. My editor will kill me if I don't grab a quote for our 'Powerful Women' issue. Can I?"

"Well, if that's the case, don't do it, Pepper," I mumble, looking to the side of us.

Christine shoots daggers at me with her eyes and I give her my most pleasant smile. Dad gives me a near smirk before looking back at his new CEO.

Pepper nods, still being polite, "Sure."

"Well, dang," I sigh in defeat and step away, "I'm out."

As I walk away, I see Natalie Rushman standing near the table Dad chose. I almost turn to walk away when I see her, but she catches me and gives me a smile. I force one back as I continue my trek over to her. I let out another sigh as I sit down at the table. She seems to hesitate before sitting down beside me and I give her an odd look.

"I get the feeling you don't like me," she tells me a with a small smile.

A little embarrassed, my face turns pink at the confrontation, "Oh, well, don't take it personally. I don't like any of the women my father flirts with. I'm possessive of him."

She smiles a little wider at my admission as if she understands, "But you like Miss Potts."

"Well, that's true," I concede, "But that's just because Pepper raised me. It's like seeing your dad flirt with your mom, somewhat creepy, but cute all the same."

She laughs a little, "I get that. Just know, Miss Stark, that I have no intention of ever replacing Miss Potts for either you or your father."

"Isn't that your job?" I ask snidely.

She doesn't seem fazed by my slight attitude, "I think you know what I mean."

"Yeah," I nod, looking after my father on the other side of the room, "I do."

"I should go inform him that the table is ready," Natalie stands up and leaves to go tell him.

"Huh," I say to myself.

Maybe Natalie isn't as bad as I thought.

While looking over my menu, I hear someone sit down beside me, "Dad."

"It's me," Pepper's voice responds.

"Oh," I look up at her, surprised, "I thought Natalie was going to get Dad."

"She did. I passed him while leaving the restrooms," she sighs quietly as if she's releasing some anger through it.

"Are you okay?" I frown and take her arm.

"Fine, fine," she waves the comment off, "It's just that,"

"He's worse than ever?" I offer.

She nods with a sad expression, "I'm sure he'll snap out of it."

"I hope so," I scoff before looking back down at my menu and taking a sip of water.

Suddenly I hear a voice yell, "Tony!"

"Tony, I love you!"

"Tony!

I pull my eyes up from the overpriced dishes to see where the voices are coming from. I choke on my water and spew it onto the table at what I see. Pepper gasps and pats my back, questioning to see if I'm alright. I'm still coughing, but I can't take my eyes off of the TV screen where my father is walking in a blue racing jumpsuit with the name 'Stark' written on it. He's walking through a crowd of people, signing autographs and accepting cheers.

"Oh, Lord," I sputter through my coughs.

"What? What is it?" Pepper follows my wide eyed gaze and her jaw drops at the sight.

Dad gracefully jumps over the guardrail towards the Formula One vehicle.

My palms are on fire as Dad turns to the cameras, spreads out his hands, and says, "Well, what's the use of having and owning a race car if you don't drive it?"

I scowl when the audience cheers at my father's idiocy.

"Is he driving?" Justin Hammer looks across the restaurant at me.

He's dead. I'm going to kill him. If he doesn't kill himself first.

[Enter Nat-uh-alie R-er-ushman] Yay! It's Natalie! Did you like the whole grumpy Lisa and protective Pepper thing about it? I hope so! And how about Tony walking in on Lisa in the workshop? What do you think he thought she was doing? And now they're in Monaco and, if you've seen the movie, then you know what's coming next... Vote, comment, and follow! I hope you liked it!

Funny Thingamabob:

(the explosion in the background though) Who else loves Loki? Anyone?