Dear Dad,

Well, you're dead.

I guess, I was surprised. Not that you died, because we both knew that was on the horizon, I think. Just that I was...sad. I mean, me and you never had much of a relationship. We were two different people with too many grudges. And I'm sorry. I regret all the things I did to you in the end. I regret ruining your company and hating you like I did. Maybe, where ever you are- if you're anywhere at all- maybe you have some regrets too.

But, whatever the case, I needed to say I was sorry. Get it out of my system. Funny, it was Loki's idea, a long time ago. He's gone now. Left. There's been a lot of abandonment going on in the Stark family lines. You abandoned me a long time ago, and I abandoned him. You'll be happy to know that the only banging that goes on with me anymore, is with blonde, tan girls who have huge racks. Yeah. Playboy extraordinaire, once again. Had to take back that crown. Couldn't let my record get topped. That's not the Stark way, right, dad?

Anyways. I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Why I'm saying all these things. I'm drunk. Ha, another Stark trait. Alcohol runs in the bloodlines. Well, after tonight, it'll be 'ran'. Nope, no heir to the throne this time. God only knows who'll take over the company. I'm sure Pep will take care of it. Yeah, she's my secretary too. Only, I'm not fucking her. God, it'd be like fucking my sister. If I had one.

I also wanted to tell you, that, once upon a time, I loved you, dad. I really did. You were my hero. When mom was alive, I wanted to be just like you.

Then she died.

And we both became different men. Worse men. You drowned yourself in alcohol. I started taking too many pills. Our grief took us somewhere pretty terrible, didn't it? You know, before he died, Obie told me what you two had done. That it was you both who ordered my kidnapping.

I can't forgive you for that.

But I can forgive you for being a bad dad. I think, in your own way, you did try to do what you could for me. Even if you didn't love me. At least you put a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and gave me an education. You got me where I am today, though. In both good ways and bad. I may not be the man I always hoped to be, but I've done some good. Not as much good as bad, but hey, we can't all be saints, right?

So. Wherever you are, cheers. Cheers to shitty lives and shittier deaths.

Cheers to going to hell for the things we've done.

I'll see you there soon, alright, old man?

Love, your son,

Tony.

A/N: So, this is...I'm not sure yet. I'm not sure what it'll become. I may add a few other letters. Hmm. -ponders-