A/N: So this is mad angsty, really. I just felt like giving Tony and Pepper a deeper bond.
Warning: Suggestions of Sexual Assault, Attempted Suicide
Flying was a wonderful fantasy most kids would reenact, running around, arms spread, pretending to soar above the clouds, higher than anyone could ever see. Seven-year-old Virginia Potts was no different. But she dreamed of flying for a different reason. While the other kids wanted to be like Superman, flying around, fighting evil, she just wanted to escape. Since her parents divorce six months earlier, flying took a different turn from fun to freedom.
Her mother didn't want her. Her father didn't really either, but he'd been stuck as the provider. He had a house and a career. He wasn't a crack addict; he was reliable. She grew up ignored, going about her business as if he wasn't there, which he wasn't. For the most part, she was on her own. Ginny Potts grew up in a silent house, devoid of love and affection and everything a young girl needed.
It wasn't until she became fifteen that she became valuable to her father. Since the divorce eight years earlier, his life had fallen apart. He'd become an alcoholic, was fired from his cushy job, and worked at the dump. They lived in a tiny apartment on the wrong side of town and were about to evicted when he came up with, what he considered his greatest idea. He prostituted his daughter.
At first she fought back, but when she did, things always got worse than before. She struggled in school trying to ward off anyone who wanted to be friends, trying to hide the many bruises and the odd gait to her steps. Her anti-social existence surprised many of her teachers and classmates as she managed to keep a high grade point average, especially in her math classes. After a while, she just faded out into the background of the school.
She only true refuge was a small ledge on the bridge a few blocks away from her house; a bridge that connected the shoddy part of town to the nice part. She'd sit looking out at the horizon or down at the water below, anything that could distract her from her reality. The small sense of safety she received from her bridge made life almost bearable.
Upon her graduation, she realized she was stuck. She had no true aspirations. She'd always be her father's source of income. Of all the things she'd endured in her life, staying with her father wasn't one she could deal with any longer. There was nothing left for her. Death would be her savior. That fact was something she could understand and accept.
After being used by a particularly brutal customer, she knew it was time to end it. She was bleeding, missing a bit of hair, had cuts and bruises all over her face and couldn't walk properly.
She considered packing her stuff, like she'd seen in movies, as if maybe someone would stop her, give her a chance, but this was reality, and in reality, people don't care. One person's death makes no difference. A person dies every second. She would just be a moment in time.
Climbing out her window, she headed to her spot on the bridge. She'd climb up and sit on the edge, staring at the water far below. It was only fitting that her safe haven should become her end point. What she was not expecting was someone to already be there. Upon seeing that figure, she got angry, angrier than she'd ever been before.
"WHAT THE HELL! What the fuck are you doing up here! Get out of here!" she screamed, breaking the relative silence.
The figure nearly fell off the ledge at the sound of her voice. He held his hands up in surrender, "Hey, my bad. I didn't know people came up here,"
She glared, as if she could burn a hole through the guy, even though it was too dark to make out faces. She tried to calm herself but couldn't, "GO AWAY!" she practically shrieked, taking a step foreword, showing herself under the bridge light. She heard a gasp and stepped backwards. She knew she looked bad.
She looked up and saw him approaching and panicked. Looking back and forth, she realized she might as well jump now. Without warning, she turned and jumped off the bridge.
"NOOOO!" She briefly heard before hitting the water and fading out of consciousness.
"Will she be okay?" came the voice, soft and distant. Ginny recognized it vaguely, but couldn't place it. Maybe she was in heaven? Doubtful. Hell? Maybe. Somewhere else? Unknown.
There was another voice, but it was too quiet for her to recognize.
"Hey. It's me. That guy from the bridge," She heard the voice closer and wanted to groan.
She wasn't dead. The son of a bitch somehow prevented her death. Despite her calculations, she hadn't been high enough to die instantly. The Jackass had been in the precise spot she needed to be in and now she was somewhere, not dead, being talked to by the interferer.
"I know you don't know me. And likewise I don't know you. I'm sure when you wake, you'll hate me. But I couldn't let you end your life. Not like that. I was going to jump too. I was in the exact spot I needed to be to die instantly. Then you showed up, and I realized I couldn't do it. You saved me. I couldn't let you die. No matter what led you to suicide, I'll fix it. I promise," his voice had such a soothing and sincere sound, it wasn't long before it all faded out again.
"SHE'S MY DAUGHTER! I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT WITH HER!"
Ginny recognized that voice immediately. It cut through her fog like a knife through warm butter.
"WELL YOU CANT HAVE HER! SHE WAS COVERED IN BRUISES AND CUTS AND THERE WAS PLENTY OF SEXUAL ASSAULT INJURIES! I REFUSE TO LET YOU TAKE HER!" This voice she recognized as well, though barely. She knew it was the guy on the bridge, but it hardly sounded like him. There was a rage in his voice that she'd never heard before.
"SHE IS STILL MY DAUGHTER!"
"SHES OVER 18! YOU'VE NO RIGHTS TO HER!"
A third voice entered, speaking quietly and calmly, "I'm sorry Mr. Potts, but she cannot be released at this time. She's not even conscious! Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave,"
There were sounds of a scuffle, before silence. She didn't realize how unnerving the whole thing was until the silence and felt herself slip into nothingness.
"Miss. Potts?" came the calm voice, "Can you open your eyes for me"
She forced herself to focus. After a few moments, she managed to open her eyes slowly. She took some time, blinking a few times, taking in her surroundings. She was in a hospital, no surprise, and the calm voice belonged to the doctor leaning over her.
"Very good. We were afraid you'd sustained more brain damage than anticipated," he said, surprising her by not smiling. Perhaps he understood. Suicidal people weren't happy they were still alive, at least, she wasn't.
Suddenly she saw movement in the corner of her eye and a tall young man came into her line of sight. She knew it was him immediately. The vague memory of him on the bride combined with the sound of his voice made it easy to recognize him.
"Can you speak?" the doctor asked, averting her attention back to him.
She opened her mouth with a great deal of effort, and tried forming words, "Yes," Her voice cracked and sounded bizarre. It was unfamiliar at best.
The doctor nodded and wrote something on a clipboard, before hanging it on the foot of her bed. "Miss. Potts, you've sustained several broken bones, mostly ribs, but your clavicle, right arm and left leg as well. You also have a serous concussion. However, we have seen spectacular recovery in all areas, however, you will be extremely sore, due to a sever injury in your vagina, which we believe was acquired before your attempted suicide. Do you have any questions?" The doctor spoke quickly and concisely, saying only what was necessary.
"No" she said hoarsely, barely able to get the sound out.
"Very well. Just page a nurse if you require assistance," he said before leaving her.
He didn't speak, so she spoke instead, "Who are you?"
"Tony Stark," he responded.
She nodded slightly, and turned her head, wanting to go back to sleep.
"Is that it?" he asked, "No, 'Why'd you do it?' or 'Fuck you'?"
"No," she forced out quietly.
There was silence, and she went to sleep, this time willingly.
"VIRGINIA! GET UP! VACATIONS OVER! WE'RE GOING HOME!" Ginny felt herself be picked up by her broken arm and wanted to scream in agony. The pain was nearly unbearable.
The door swung open, "PUT HER BACK! CANT YOU SEE SHE'S INJURED?" Stark's voice took on the same tone it had the last time he yelled at her father, "I've got a restraining order on you. You can't be within 500 feet of her!"
Her father paid him no mind, practically dragging her to the door, not that she resisted much. When the doctor tried to stop him, he seemed to have composed himself, "Look, we don't have insurance, nor any means of paying you. I'm taking her away to stop wasting your time! You should be thanking me!"
Stark face darkened as he took a step forward "It's already paid for. Along with this restraining order is a court document giving me legal care of Virginia until she is well enough to take care of herself,"
He scoffed, reaching in his pocket and pulling our a small flask, "You're mad. Don't you know she's used goods? There is no reason you should want her!" he exclaimed, taking a gulp of the vodka he kept in it.
"This is the last time I will say it. Put. Her. Back." He said through gritted teeth.
Her father scoffed, "Or wh-" He felt a fist collide with his face before he could even finish his sentence. In his surprise, he let go of Ginny's arm, moving to clutch at his face. Stark jumped on him and began pummeling him until two security guards pulled him off.
Stark immediately came to his senses, rushing over to where Ginny lay, sprawled on the floor, eyes closed. Reaching down, he scooped her up in is arms. Not bothering to look over his shoulder, he muttered, "Take that scum out of here," before walking back towards her room.
He lay her down on the hospital bed, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Her arm was laying at an awkward angle, and he knew that there was no treatment that would fix it to the way it was before.
"Mr. Stark?" her voice mumbled. She'd passed out because of the intense pain in her arm.
He leaned foreword, listening intently.
Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a small smile. "Thank you," she murmured, before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and sat in the chair beside her bed, watching her sleep, her face the most peaceful he'd ever seen.
The next time she woke, she was surprised to see him slouched in the chair next to her. She had no idea how long she had been out, but she felt more refreshed than she had ever in her life.
She moved to stand up, immediately registering the pain in her ribs. With a grunt, she lowered herself back down on the bed and tried to remember the events that had taken place before she passed out.
She remembered her father came. He tried to take her away. Then he, the man sitting next to her bed, Tony Stark, a complete stranger, had rescued her again. Her right arm was now in a sling, though she could hardly feel it. Looking down at it, she noticed it was positioned oddly and frowned, knowing that she would have a lot of bad nights from that arm.
She turned her head, looking at him. What did he want from her? Why would he go to such lengths to save her, time after time? She couldn't quite get her head around the whole thing. It was bizarre, and she wasn't sure what she should be doing or how she should be feeling.
Glancing back at him, she jumped slightly as she realized he had woken up.
"Hey. How you feeling?" He asked quietly, genuinely concerned.
"What do you want?" she asked, not wanting to beat around the bush.
His eyebrows rose, and he answered in a flat tone, "I want to fix it," he said bluntly.
She blinked, confused by his response, "That's a very vague response," she murmured quietly, closing her eyes.
He reached over, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face, he murmured, "I'm going to make everything all better. Soon you'll get out of this hospital, and I'll take care of you. I owe you my life. You saved me,"
A/N: Sooo, there it is. Review if you have a moment.