They had never been there to rescue her. They had saved thousands of people, but never seemed to notice when she needed them. She even screamed for them until her throat seemed to give out one night, only a few blocks from the 'Avengers Tower'.

That night she was walking home from work when a stranger grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into an alley. She fought against him with everything she had, but he was stronger and eventually overpowered her completely. All she could do was lie in that alley and scream for help, pleading that the great "heroes" would find her. She even tried screaming for them by name, but her attacker only laughed as he pushed her skirt up above her hips, and forced his hand into her; taunting her as she sobbed and struggled against him before forcing himself on her completely. When he had finished, he took her by the hair, and dragged her to the dumpster, smashing her head against it until she went limp before leaving her there.

Tears built in her eyes as she recalled every detail of that memory, shuddering and pulling her jacket tighter around herself as she waited for the bus. It took longer to ride the bus to work than it did to walk, but after that night she wouldn't walk past that alley. And since that night she felt a bitter sickness each time the Avengers rescued someone. She hated them because that night wasn't the only time she wished they would save her.

Her boyfriend would beat her without remorse, and molest her when she was unconscious or too weak to fight back. Since he never had sex with her when she was in that state, she didn't consider it rape, but she didn't like it. However she was too afraid of him to fight back and get out. It was easier, and safer to just lay there and take it, and not let him see the tears that occasionally fell from her eyes from his touch.

Today was a change in her routine though. She worked as a waitress in a little café normally, but had gotten a new job as a secretary in the Avengers Tower for Stark Enterprises. It paid a good deal more than what she was making waiting tables, and she hoped that she could earn more respect in this occupation than by asking "What can I get you folks?" a hundred times a week.

She took a deep breath as she walked through the door, the small heels of her boots clicking on the polished marble floors. Her black dress pants dragging slightly behind her heels as she nervously pulled her bright purple wool coat tighter around herself. Her classically red painted lips smiled as she approached the desk. "Hi," she smiled, "My name is Ellis Willows, and I'm supposed to start work today as a secretary."

The woman behind the desk smiled brightly and shook her hand. "Hi there Ms. Willows, you're just in time I have some files that need to be sent up to Mr. Stark's main office. He's out right now but the door's open. Just drop them in his inbox on his desk." She beamed and handed her a stack of folders, as well as some written directions to reach his office.

Ellis smiled and nodded, hiding how highly uncomfortable she was attempting to find her way through the huge building alone. She held her head high nonetheless and walked to the elevator, cringing inwardly as she noticed that his main office happened to be on the tenth floor.

She walked slowly through the hall, counting doors and trying to appear confident to the occasional employee she passed as she held tightly to the files until she finally found Stark's office. She couldn't help herself from being bitterly amused at the small pieces of Ironman memorabilia that decorated the space along with several awards sporting his name. Beside the inbox on his extremely expensive looking desk was an Ironman statue that doubled as a pencil/pen holder and paperclip organizer. The fact that it was a bobble-head sparked the childish compulsion to tweak the head. Unfortunately when she did she knocked it off of its stand, spilling its contents all over the floor.

"Damn it!" She gasped, quickly dropping the files into the inbox and attempting to clean up the mess before anyone came in.

"Who are you…?" the well known voice of her new boss questioned confusedly, startling her and making her jump, spilling even more paperclips.

"I'm, uhm, Ellis Willows, Sir." She stammered awkwardly, smiling and extending her hand for him to shake while still sitting on her knees in his office, surrounded by scattered paperclips and pens. "I didn't mean to knock this over, I was just-"

"Playing with the bobble head." He interrupted without a hint of annoyance, and to her surprise a smile, "You're the new secretary, right? Tony Stark, nice to meet you." He introduced, shaking her hand and helping her finish cleaning up.

"Yeah," She nodded awkwardly, standing and tucking a fallen section of black hair behind her ear, "I'm sorry. I put the files in your inbox… I'm not really sure what to do now," she admitted.

"Well, now that I have my files *I* can get to work. Did they show you to your office?" he questioned, walking straight to his desk and opening files after placing the pencil and paperclip holder back on its stand.

"No Sir."

"It's right down the hall. There's a post-it note with your name on it to make it easier for you to find. There's a phone on your desk with speed dial already hooked up. Option one dials my phone here, two is the front desk, and three goes to my personal cell phone." He explained, finally taking his eyes off of his files and looking up at her seriously, "Don't, use option three unless it's absolutely an emergency, understand?"

"Of course." She nodded quickly.

"Good. Everything's already set up. I have to get started on this, I'll call you if I need anything." He nodded and dismissed her to her office. While walking down the hall to the door with a stylishly pink post-it note reading "Ms. Ella Willows" across it she sighed at the realization that her new job was an errand girl.

For months she sat in her office from six in the morning until five in the evening. She would run this stack of papers to Stark's office, or take those files from him to be sent to scientist so-and-so to build who-knows-what. No one really noticed her there since she worked alone and kept to herself. Because her hours were so much longer than her old job her boyfriend was much more demanding of intimacy, which meant her schedule now was wake up at five in the morning, get ready for work, leave by five-thirty, get to work at six and run papers and food all day, finally get home at five thirty, and submit to her boyfriend, listen to him complain to her that she needs to quit her job and that she's useless to Stark, sleep and repeat.

After seven months of the same dreary life despair seemed to wash over her and take hold. She was miserable at home, and invisible at work. She just wanted to be free, and safe. But the Heroes would never save her and she knew it. These thoughts continued through her head as she walked into Stark's office with a smile to deliver another stack of folders, as well as a few memos for meetings and press conferences.

"Thanks Ella." He nodded absently as she set the papers in his inbox. "Hey, what do you think about installing the Ironman gear into my office?" he questioned, caching her before she could leave.

"Why?" She asked confusedly.

"So when I'm here I can get to it quicker when I need it." He shrugged, "But aesthetically speaking, what do you think?"

"It's your office… I really don't know." She shrugged.

"Well, thanks for your help." He nodded sarcastically, hardly noticing her sigh as she walked out of his office and back to her own to sit and wait for his next request.

She had been struggling for the past few weeks more than ever. Her body ached from the abuse at home. Her long sleeves and jackets hardly covered the bruises left by her "loving" boyfriend. Her eyes sat weakly above dark circles that were barely covered with makeup. On breaks she could hear the other employees mutter about her, adding icing to the cake. Rumors that she only got the job because she's sleeping with Stark, or that she was a druggie were spreading like wildfire, and thanks to these whispers and mutterings, she found it impossible to make friends.

Her bitterness towards her boss grew as she watched him that evening flying from his office in the Ironman suit to rescue some innocent life, returning the hero to face flashing cameras and adoring fans. She had passed hating him for it, and found herself suffering heartache each time, wondering why he had never seemed to notice HER when she needed him.

"Ella!" his booming voice called as he waved off the press and ducked into his office, "Do you think you can come down here and help me with these files? I got a little behind while doing my 'other' job."

She sighed heavily and pushed the speaker button on her phone after checking the clock. Three minutes before she was scheduled to go home, and he needed her help. If she refused him, she would lose her job, but if she were late to get home her boyfriend would be furious. "I get off work in three minutes, Mr. Stark." She reminded kindly.

"I know, and I'm sorry about this. I'll pay you overtime though; I really could use the help." He argued in his office, hiding his annoyance with the young woman well. The truth was he had created the mess of paperwork intentionally. He really just wanted to get to know his assistant better. Not because he saw her as his next playboy conquest, but because he noticed some things about her that concerned him. She was quiet, and hardly ever made eye contact. She hid bruises behind her hair and her clothes, but they didn't always stay hidden; he had seen a black eye early in her time as his assistant, as well as a bruise on her back when she bent to pick something up and her shirt slid up. If she was having trouble at home, he wanted to see an end to it immediately.

"I'll be right down," she answered finally and ended their call, leaving him waiting for her to walk through the doors to his office.

"Wow that's a piece of work." She commented, seeing the Iron Suit setup in the corner.

"Yeah," he smiled, "It's a beauty.

"Now, these files… they're all over the place and I have no idea what goes were," He lied, hoping to eventually be able to get her to open up to him about her life somehow. Unfortunately she didn't seem to realize that he actually wanted her to open up. Instead she sat and worked silently until it was finally time for her to go home, only nodding a goodnight as she left to face whatever awaited her at home.

She didn't speak a word to him the next day. Not even her usual short "Hi" as they passed in the hall, or a sarcastic "yes sir" over the phone when he called her. He noticed that she was limping a bit, and that her clothes were looser than usual. It was her complete silence though that worried him. He even saw a few times where it looked as if she had been crying.

"Mr. Stark these-"

"Tony," he interrupted as she went to leave a stack of files on his desk near her lunch break.

"Uhm, Tony, these were dropped in my office for you." She nodded quietly, not even making eye contact as she dropped the files and left.

"Thank you Ella, see you after lunch." He nodded with a smile, expecting her usual sarcastic "Later" as a response, but his smile fell when she finally looked up with a smile that was so transparent it was looking like a freshly cleaned window.

"Goodbye, Tony." She nodded, and left for lunch. Something was off, something about her was very wrong, and he couldn't tell what it was. He couldn't even focus on his work, as an overwhelming sense of dread sat in the pit of his stomach.

After an hour or so of going through blueprints, schematics, charts, and countless sheets of paperwork he noticed that she had yet to check back in from her fifteen minute break. Frowning to himself he pulled up video feeds on his computer, searching the building for any sign of her. He found her on the roof of the tower, standing dangerously close to the edge and sobbing.

He knew he couldn't possibly run to her in time if she decided to jump, and instead clumsily ran across the room, nearly falling into the Iron Suit and waiting impatiently for the pieces to lock together. The moment he was dressed, he crashed out the window and flew to the roof as quickly as his thrusters could manage, arriving at the roof just in time to see her feet falling from the edge as if in slow motion.

"ELLA!" he screamed, frantically ordering the systems to their maximum capability as he sped over the building to attempt to catch her. She seemed to lock eyes with him as she fell as her arm extended towards him.

Tears poured from her eyes as she realized how quickly the cold and unforgiving ground was approaching with no chance of surviving the impact. She screamed for him once again, catching the attention of several passersby as she fell. Finally he had noticed her. Finally he had come to save her when SHE needed a hero. But just as the cold metal of his glove grazed her wrist, he screamed her name in what sounded like a sob-filled cry, and then he flew away.

"ELLA! ELLA NO!" he sobbed, realizing just as she was a fraction of an inch within his grasp, that it was too late. Before he could even cry his apology her body collided with the pavement with a horrible crunching thud. The cement cracked from the impact as blood instantly began seeping from her shattered body.

Onlookers gazed in shock as Ironman crashed between two dumpsters only feet from her body, tearing his mask from his face to reveal his horrified face as he stared blankly at her body as if she would wake, and then he broke. He sat sobbing apology after apology to her as he stared at her, tears streaming down his face as he rested on all fours, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

That night he sat in his personal workshop at home, several Ironman prototypes had been destroyed and scrapped in a drunken rampage. Now he sat at a workbench, clutching a letter addressed to him in Ella's handwriting. He had found it in the stack of files she had given him before she said goodbye, and finally he had mustered the courage to read it.

"Dear Mr. Stark,

"I know I've only worked here for just under a year, but I can't keep going this way anymore. I can't go on feeling like this. I can't survive the heartache I feel every day! I'm an errand girl at work, and a punching bag at home. What kind of life is that?

"Before I started work here I hated you. I hated all Avengers. I hated you because when I needed you, you weren't there. When I was forced into an alley, stripped and abused by a complete stranger, I screamed the entire time for help. I screamed your names individually! But no one could hear me.

"At home my boyfriend beats me the moment I walk through the door, and if it isn't a beating its sex. Sex I don't even want, but if I don't give in he will beat me and do it anyway.

"I hated you so much, and blamed you for everything, and it wasn't fair. So I'm writing this letter to say I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. You didn't deserve any of that. After meeting you, and working for you, I see that now. You aren't such a bad guy after all; I just wasn't able to be saved.

"I'm sorry, and I forgive you Tony Stark.

"Ella."

Tony felt more tears slide down his cold face as he downed another drink. The overwhelming sense of failure and despair filled him to the brim and he began writing out a speech for a press conference that he would call in less than a week, reading his notes aloud as he wrote them.

"I became Ironman to save innocent lives that couldn't defend themselves, and recently I failed in that; the Ironman project is a failure…. And so I'm sorry to announce… I'm retiring from the Avengers,"