Hey! This is just something me and my friends have been thinking about for a while. I have about three chapters written, so let me know if I should continue!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Avengers. I do own my original characters, though, Stella and Chase.

Tony was pretty sure it meant life was absolutely perfect when you couldn't decide which day was the best day of your life. Granted, he probably couldn't choose the worst day of his life either, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that he had two best days of his life, and how many people got to say that?

The first best day of his life was when he married Pepper. The Avengers hadn't avenged in at least five years, nor had the world been in mortal peril, so he figured he was safe to settle down and start a real, normal, crazy-alien-supervillain-free life. Marrying Pepper was the first step. They got married in the summer, and it wasn't in a church, because neither of them were really tight with God. They got married at S.H.I.E.L.D. Most of their friends worked there, anyway, and Nick Fury wasn't bad at officiating a wedding ceremony. The Avengers were all there. Steve had some girl with him, and come to think of, she wasn't really "some girl". They were married. Tony had gone to the wedding. It had taken him a few minutes to recognize her as the cute blonde waitress they'd saved in the final battle against Loki. Natasha and Clint came, finally an open couple, and ended up marrying a year later. Tony was invited to that wedding, too. He pinned the invitation up on his bulletin board with other things that proved he had friends. Bruce was there, with no significant other, although he shared that he was in the process of adopting a daughter. Overall, it was a perfect night. Pepper looked beautiful. Everyone had fun. Tony and Pepper had lots of fun.

All that fun eventually led to Stella.

The day Pepper told Tony she was pregnant was a good day, but not the best in his life. He'd been a little scared, actually, when he'd found out. Of course, he'd hidden it under layers of sarcasm and general Tony-Starkness, but he was terrified. Mostly because he figured there was no one on earth that would make a shittier father than him. Except maybe Bruce. (He could see it now. "Clean your room!" Bruce would order. "No!" His unfortunate child would reply. "AAAAARRRRGHHHH! HULK SMASH!" Bruce would say.)

"Awesome," Tony had said, "there's a little Tony Jr. in your stomach."

"No," Pepper had instantly replied, "we're not naming it 'Tony Jr.'. Besides, what if it's a girl?"

"Good point," He admitted, looking away for a moment to think. Then his head snapped back up. "Antonia."

"No," Pepper repeated. "Don't you want her to have her own name? She's going to have a hard enough time making an identity for herself, what with being Iron Man's daughter and all. Shouldn't her name at least be all her own?"

"Yeah, that makes sense," Tony relented. "But I'm making her a suit. Not iron, of course, that's my thing. And she'll have different colors. Blue and black, I think. Steel! Her suit'll be steel. 'Steel Girl'. Sounds good, don't you think?"

"Steel," Pepper mused, "then we'll call her Stella. Stella 'Steel' Stark."

"I like that," Tony agreed. "And, you know, 'Stella' means 'star'. And 'Stark' means 'bright'. So her name is 'Star Bright'." Pepper smiled. "But what if it's a boy?" He asked. She sighed.

"Fine," She relented, "then he can be Tony Jr." Tony had punched the air in triumph, but really, he was hoping for a girl. He didn't want a little clone of himself, bearing his name and wearing a metal robot suit just like his. He wanted someone all her own. He wanted an all-new addition to his family. He wanted Stella Stark.

He got Stella. She was born on the second best day of his life (Not second best like runner-up to the best, but second best as in an additional best.), February 19, 2028, at precisely 16.5 inches and 7 pounds, which was on the lighter side, but he thought she was perfect. She grew up sassy and intelligent, just like him, but with a kind side that came from her mother. Tony had her suit built by her second birthday, and by her fourth, she had already saved her first day. When she was five, she toddled into his lab and told him bluntly, "I don't want to be 'Steel Girl'. It's narrow-minded. You don't know who I'll end up being. I'm too young for you to be forcing gender roles on me." He hid his laughter and told her she could be just Steel, which she liked. Then they built a nuclear bomb for S.H.I.E.L.D. together, for some daddy-daughter bonding.

It was all downhill from there.

Pepper was diagnosed with osteosarcoma when Stella was five. Tony was forty-one, and Pepper was forty. The doctors told Tony that Pepper had localized osteosarcoma, which meant she had an 80% chance of survival. Tony was a genius. He should've told the doctor he knew that already, or offered to build them something to help. Instead, he just said, "Okay," and squeezed Stella's hand.

Pepper had told him not to worry. She told Stella it was "just a little bump". It wasn't. It was a tumor. But Pepper stayed optimistic, and sure enough, after many rounds of chemo and a few months, the doctors declared Pepper's tumor gone. They warned him they couldn't say she was "cured", because no one was ever "cured", but as far as they knew, the threat had been taken care of. Pepper still had to go for X-ray's and check-ups, but life was much better. The clouds of worry had lifted. The Starks could go back to their care-free, happy, normal lives.

They did so until a month or so after Stella's sixth birthday, when Pepper came home with bad news: it was back. It was worse. And it was everywhere.

They tried. Tony made sure they tried. But it was painful for Pepper and painful for Tony and confusing and sad for Stella, and all in all, it was futile. Pepper was admitted to hospice in November of 2034, where she lasted another month. She died on Christmas, which just seemed like a sick, painful punch in the face from fate, because that was Pepper's favorite holiday.

Tony was forty-two. Stella was six. And Pepper was dead.

Stella's dad didn't go out much. In fact, he hadn't gone out for around eleven years. He came home that Christmas night, when she was six and he was forty-two and her mother was dead, and he never went back out. He stayed in Stark Tower for eleven years. Stella was seventeen now. Tony was fifty-three. The world was eleven years older than when Tony last saw it. But he never came out.

He would ask her a lot if it bothered her. She always said no. Maybe she did wish he would get out there, because she was tired of the outlandish rumors about what he'd been doing for eleven years, but she didn't want to hurt him. Facing the world again, after eleven years alone, would hurt him. So she told him, "Of course not. You're a recluse. It's cool. It's mysterious." Besides, Stella was allowed out. She went out all the time. One of her favorite pastimes was beating up muggers with her best friend, Chase Barton. There were plenty of muggers in New York. They didn't have to look for long.

Chase was fifteen, two years younger than Stella, but still her closest friend. His parents were Hawkeye and the Black Widow, and they happened to live in the apartment building next to Stark Tower. Her dad had never told her this, but she knew he'd asked Aunt Natasha to move there. She was supposed to be Stella's mother figure. And she was. Stella loved Natasha.

Chase and Stella had both been trained by Chase's two assassin/spy parents, and on top of that, Stella had a kick-ass suit. She was a lethal mix of Iron Man and the Black Widow. As for Chase, he'd taken after his father, and was a pretty amazing archer. Together, Stella and Chase were unstoppable. Tony would often design simulations for them to practice on, and Natasha and Clint would come over to watch them do it. The first time, Stella had caught a snippet of their conversation.

"Look at them, mercilessly killing people with so much skill," Clint had mused.

"I know," Natasha sighed, "they're just like us." The two had fist-bumped. Stella stopped watching then, because she was about to get shot by a simulated enemy. Maybe Stella was kick-ass and would be a great asset to the Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate, but she had no interest in working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Her dad had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. And she didn't want to be just like her dad. It was a problem she often faced.

Another problem was school. It wasn't her grades. Stella was a genius, just like her dad. Straight A's in everything, especially science and math. No, it was the other kids. Stella's dad was a celebrity, famous for saving the world, and infamous for becoming a recluse after his wife's tragic death. On top of that, her parents were both pretty attractive people. That meant Stella was a pretty attractive person as well. A mild amount of celebrity plus good looks meant Stella got a lot of unwanted attention from the neanderthals at school called "boys".

Stella was at school now. She didn't have many friends, besides Chase. There were a few girls from her AP Math class that sat at her lunch table, and a few of Chase's friends from the archery team, but it was mostly just her and him. Currently, Chase and Stella were pretending to be together. The hope was that their "relationship" would deter Stella's relentless and pig-headed admirer, Duncan. His friends called him "Dunc", which they found hilarious, because he scored a lot of points in basketball, or something. Stella didn't really know. She didn't really care. She didn't think Duncan flirted with her because he really liked her, he just wanted to get under her skin. She could kick his ass, she knew, but she would get detention. So she put up with him.

She was at her locker now. Chase's was pretty far away from hers, since the lockers were organized in alphabetical order by last name, but Duncan's was close. Duncan's last name was Stevens, and hers was Stark. Duncan was approaching her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was wearing long basketball shorts, and his snapback hat was facing sideways. He had red headphones on, resting around his neck. He looked just like your stereotypical douchebag.

"Hey, girl," He greeted her, leaning against the locker next to hers. She took a sharp intake of breath and made a face.

"Ew, Duncan, you smell worse than you just generally are as a person," She told him honestly. He laughed, and his breath was even grosser.

"You're funny, girl."

"My name isn't 'girl'."

"Whatever, girl."

"I'm obviously getting nowhere with you. I have to go to class. Bye, girl." He stayed in place for a moment, probably offended that she'd called such a manly man a "girl". And then he followed her.

"I hear you're with Barton," He said.

"Funny how you hear things other people say, but when I say, 'Leave me alone,' you don't seem to understand English," She shoots back.

"So, you're dating a dirty little spy. What would your mother say?" Stella stopped short. Pepper had died eleven years ago, but it never stopped hurting. Maybe she hadn't locked herself away for eleven years, but that didn't mean she wasn't upset. Duncan was pouring salt into an open wound, and it burned. "Huh?" Duncan pressed, "What would your mother say?"

Chase punched him in the face.

Stella hadn't even heard him coming, but then, Chase was a spy. She wasn't supposed to hear him coming. Stella screamed at him to stop, because he'd gotten in enough fights and soon he would get suspended, but then Duncan started fighting back. That made it worse, because once Chase was sure he had an opponent, he would never admit defeat. It took him about thirty seconds to get Duncan on the ground, with a loaded bow pointed at his throat. Chase was allowed to have his bow with him at school for archery practice, but he wasn't supposed to have real, pointy arrows. That didn't matter, Chase knew where to hide them. He was a spy. He'd just pulled his current one out of a pocket in his pants Stella hadn't even known was there.

The principal was there within a minute. He hauled Duncan, Chase, and Stella to his office. Stella muttered to Chase that she would take the blame if he wanted, since she wasn't in danger of being suspended. Chase shook his head.

"That's not fair," He replied, "you weren't gonna hit him. I didn't have to hit him. It's my fault."

"But you were defending me," She pointed out.

"And we both know you don't need me to," He countered, "so this is my stupid mistake."

"I don't want you to get suspended."

"I don't mind. I could use a few days away from this place."

"A suspension isn't a vacation, Chase. It'll go on your permanent record. It could influence your college acceptances."

"Who cares? I don't need college. I'm gonna work for S.H.I.E.L.D."

Stella didn't reply to this, because this was the one thing she and Chase could never agree on. She couldn't believe he wanted to work at S.H.I.E.L.D. How could he want a life that belonged to his parents? Didn't he want to make his own way? No, he always said, he liked his parents' lives. He wouldn't mind following in their footsteps.

Duncan, Chase, and Stella were herded into the principal's office. Stella, who the principal identified as a, more or less, neutral party, was given the job of telling the story. She got a look from Chase that told her she wasn't to take responsibility for the fight, so she told the real story. She tried to make Chase look as good as possible.

"...Chase was defending me. Duncan was asking me about my mom." She swallows hard, then continues, "That's inappropriate and rude, and Chase was just giving Duncan what he deserved." In the end, they both got suspended. Duncan for a week, for bullying, and Chase for two, for actual, physical fighting. Stella didn't see Chase much for the rest of the day. They walked home together as usual, and Stella offered to let Chase spend the night at her house.

"Then your parents won't find out," Stella explained, "at least, not today." Chase shrugged.

"They won't care," He replied.

And honestly, they wouldn't. His parents were cool like that. They were different from most parents. They would probably want to hear the details of the fight, like how many people Chase took down and how long it took him to do it. They were weird, but Chase loved them. He loved his weird, kick-ass, one-of-a-kind family.

So Chase and Stella parted ways by his building. She went home to make sure her dad was eating something besides Velveeta ("The shit's liquid gold, Stella. Give it back." "No, Dad. You can't live on Velveeta and whiskey."), and Chase went to break the news to his parents. He took the stairs instead of the elevator, because even though he was fairly sure they wouldn't be mad, his parents were scary as hell when they were. He wanted to get there as slowly as possible. He walked up fifteen flights of stairs, all the way to the top floor. His dad called their home "The Nest", because it was high up and housed a guy named Hawkeye. Once he reached his floor, he stood in front of the door for a moment, before gathering his courage and swinging it open.