**A/N – Wow, thank you for the reviews left by WritingEqualsEscape – wasn't expecting that response but I'm flattered! Hope I can do the rest of the story some justice! And Savily, yeah, I agree, poor Charlotte! Also thanks to those who have followed and made this a favourite, the summer holidays are almost here to I'm planning to get lots of new chapters added. Have a good one folks!

Chapter 2 – When you have the wrong kid and wonder if your biological one really belongs to you…

Mrs Isobel Garner had been Charlotte's nanny from when she was a baby until she retired a couple of years ago. Now, she only came back a couple of days a week when Charlotte was home for the holidays. At school, all the students were drilled to within an inch of their lives about sorting their own bedding and washing so on getting home, Charlotte was quite adept at looking after her own laundry. She did of course, have the best of everything, Mr Stark was more than generous when Mrs Garner headed out on a shopping trip with Charlotte, armed with a seemingly endless credit card limit and this morning had been no different when Charlotte mentioned she needed some new summer clothes.

For all she had, Charlotte was far from being a brat. She knew what she wanted and didn't automatically head for the brand names, she just got what she liked the look of and what she needed. You would never know who her father was, and Mrs Garner wasn't the first to question as to whether the DNA test had been the right one. It was obvious Charlotte was his though, she had Tony's eyes and a similar shaped face, it was just her personality, so, so different…

It had been Monday morning when they went shopping, Charlotte was meant to be meeting her father for lunch (he had decided to try a bit harder, it lasted about five minutes) so Charlotte was delivered to the plush Maza restaurant, where she was to wait for him to arrive. It wasn't the first time Charlotte had been there and waited, the staff were very good about that (well, who wouldn't, with Tony Stark picking up the tab…?) and the small girl sat quietly at the table with a glass of lemonade, reading a book she had bought in the city. Mrs Garner was taking Charlotte's new purchases back to the tower, then heading home. She'd be back again on Friday, to attend to anything else Charlotte needed. A trip to the dentist was one of those things on the list…

He arrived of course, all smiles, shades, perfect beard trimmed to perfection and his tailored suit belaying his wealth and status in life. Charlotte watched him take his shades off, grin widely as he talked to the maître d' then strode confidently to the table. She had put her book away and smiled happily at him. But the smile never lasted, because these lunches always took the same routine. It was a miracle they could get pass the starter without his phone ringing meaning all communication between them ended.

'…have you thought about what I said on Saturday Charlotte?'

There was no hug, no kiss, no 'how was your shopping trip and what do you want to do this afternoon', the usual things that parents said to their kids. But actually, did they? Charlotte would watch TV with families on with a deep envy. They did stuff together, talked about the day and just…well, were nice to each other. Was that only TV stuff? Fiction….? Every time Tony spoke to his daughter these days it tended to be critical, not that he thought he was being mean…but because he thought it was the way to boost her confidence, with no clue it was doing the complete opposite.

What she had meant to be thinking about was the rant he had unleashed on the morning after her arrival back from school. He had gone on and on about personal responsibilities, thinking about what she had caused and the trouble they all had to take to find her. After they had had their 'little talk' (Charlotte hadn't gotten a word in edgeways) he had briefly hugged her, albeit uncomfortably…and left her to her own devices. Nothing new there then. At least Charlotte had been able to attend baseball practice that day to run around, spend time with her friends and actually just be a kid. It cheered her up and she went home a lot happier than she had left.

'Yes daddy' replied in her squeaky voice, her smile gone. Why was she here? Why was he even bothering? She wished, not for the first time…her mother had dumped her in a garbage can instead of having to be with him. But for the first time in her young life…the first flicker of hate towards him. Charlotte was growing up, hormones were beginning to stir and puberty wasn't too far around the corner…once all that kicked in, her emotions would be heightened. This feeling unnerved her. She blinked, gulped, and felt ashamed. He was a busy man, she was being selfish, she was just in the way…

'…and what have you decided?' he read the menu with the usual flourish before speaking again…

'You know, you'd think they'd change this a little more often than they do…' He frowned, didn't look at his daughter who was once again, emotionally crushed…

'I won't do it again, I'm sorry'.

'Good, make sure you don't. Do you want your usual? I haven't much time…got lots going on at the lab this afternoon, Peter's made something he wants to show me. So you'll have to eat quickly'.

'I put my school report on your desk Daddy'…she asked, hoping vainly he had read it.

'Did you? I'll take a look later, hang on, phone call! No rest for the wicked!'

Charlotte barely touched her food because as predicted, he held a conference call throughout the whole lunch. The drive back home was in silence as well, the plush car cutting through the traffic and finally arriving in the parking basement of the tower. Once they got back to the living quarters, it was busy as the team were about doing whatever they did when they were home…Charlotte once again vainly tried to tell him about her report.

'I told you I'd look at it later!' He didn't know why, but he snapped. Charlotte shrank back, wide-eyed…silent, he could see she was about to cry.

'Shit, I'm sorry Charlotte, really I am, and it's just I'm so busy and I…' he took a step forward to hug her, mentally kicking himself when Peter burst into the room…

'Mr Stark! I made some new web fluid, it's twice as strong and last much longer…come and have a look!'…

Thank god for Peter Parker.

'I'll look at it the moment I'm back, alright?' the hug stopped, he just patted her on the head then turned and followed Peter out.

Rooted to the spot, the 11 year old girl didn't know what to do. She knew he wished she wasn't here, but if she ran away he'd only find her and drag her back. Why couldn't schools be open all year round? Anything would be better than being here with HIM. Well, if he preferred Peter Parker to her, so be it. She'd ask nothing of him again…it was the first baseball game of the season this next weekend, she had the parental letter in her room, no point in asking him to go, she'd just tear it up and once again she'd be the only kid there with no supporters.

oOo

It took Tony three days to get around to reading his daughters report. It went the same as usual, quiet, no confidence, average grades, average, average, average…nothing about the Starks was average! Did she have nothing from him at all? Next to it, was Peter's report. As Peter's official guardian now, he grinned as he read the teenagers report. Genius, amazing, fantastic, great future ahead of him. He buried the guilt that surfaced in wishing Peter was his own kid, it certainly wasn't fair on Charlotte….

With a sigh (she caused him to sigh a lot) he stood…

'Friday, where's Charlotte right about now?'

'Charlotte is in her room Mr Stark'

Knocking on her door, he stepped in. She was sat on her small couch reading a book, looked up at him when he came in.

'..good report. Nice to see you're behaving yourself and you didn't tell me you joined the art club'. Tony sat down next to her on the couch, Charlotte politely put her book down and looked at him. But she said nothing.

'…so. What do you do in art club? I was never good at art, preferred engines and things. If I painted a cow it looked like a giraffe'…

'We do drawing and things'…

'Have you got any to show me?' Tony was feeling a little guilty over how he had treated her over the report so was trying to make an effort.

'..I left them at school'.

'Oh, you didn't think to bring any home then?' Tony was completely clueless as to why, it never occurred to him that Charlotte knew no-one where was interested so why bother?

Charlotte just shrugged. If she said the real reason why, he'd only yell at her again, calling her selfish, blah blah blah…

'I had hoped I'd get some time so we could go on a vacation but things are crazy around here. Maybe in the fall, huh?' He looked at her, feigned a smile…

'It's OK Daddy. I understand' she looked back at her book.

'Understand what?'

'You're super busy and you don't have time. I know the business and the Avengers are important'.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say you are important to me as well, but…he couldn't. He didn't know why but he just couldn't say it. There was a mental block there. His father's voice in his head reverberated around it 'Business first before family Tony, ALWAYS. After all, if we don't get the business done, we don't eat, right…?'

Tony didn't know what to say next so he just gave her a half-hearted hug and left the room. But he didn't see the look of hatred Charlotte sent his way. This time, she didn't try to bury the feelings. She welcomed them…

oOo

There was always a driver at Charlotte's disposal. All she had to do was ask Friday what time and where she was going. Tony wasn't completely clueless though, he had said from the start she wasn't to be dropped off downtown alone or anything crazy like that, wouldn't do his rep any good at all, but it tended to be Mrs Garner who was a chaperone or one of the interns lower down the company. On baseball days though, as long as his daughter was delivered into the hands of the coach, the driver could leave then pick her up later.

This was the case on the Sunday of the first game of the season. This sport allowed the tiny Charlotte to forget who she was or where she came from. This was all about HER, and although she was pretty pants most of the time, it was the feeling of belonging to the team. This little league team was her family during the vacation. She was needed, she was important, she was WANTED. It was the shock of her life then when she scored a cool 13 runs AND was awarded the player of the game trophy!

They had the usual celebration pizza afterwards then the whole team went away happy, excited to be through to the next round.

…except Charlotte Stark.

The light that had been in her eyes died as she and the driver arrived back at the Avengers Tower. The trophy was hidden in the bottom of her closet and after telling her father she was home and had eaten, to which he gave his usual dismissive wave…she went to her room and didn't emerge for the rest of the evening. And things came a head the following morning…

After a good night's sleep, Charlotte decided that actually she WOULD tell her father about the trophy she had won. She had the secret hidden away so tightly she felt like she would burst so off she went, bounded out of bed and blasted into his office…

'Daddy! I have to tell you that…'…

Unfortunately for her, he was in the middle of an important conference call. He gave her the death glare and excused himself, muting the call for a moment.

'How many times! How many times before you get it into your head that you KNOCK and WAIT! I'm got a huge deal to sort here and you just barge in?'

'Yes but I have to tell you that…'

'ENOUGH!' He jumped up, his chair went flying, papers scattered…

'Why in god's name did I get cursed with YOU?!'

He destroyed her soul in about two nano seconds.

Why did I get cursed with you…?

Cursed…

She was nothing but a curse…

Broken, she ran and locked herself in her room. Tony hammered on her door all morning and afternoon, giving her every apology he could think of but nothing would make her come out. It didn't help Tony's case that Clint had heard what he said, they raged and argued all evening, almost coming to blows until the usually calm Bruce got in between them. Tony ended up in the nearest bar and drank himself stupid, and it was both Steve and Sam who retrieved him, pie-eyed, at 2 am the next morning.

It seemed nobody had learned anything about Charlotte's success though until Wednesday morning. Charlotte was off on a zoo trip with a friend's family and Tony had just gotten the papers delivered. His office PA smiled brightly…

'You must be so proud Mr Stark! It's all there, on page two!'

She trotted off smiling as Tony frowned, thinking she must be losing her marbles, until he opened the paper to page two…

He read the headline…

'A chip off the old iron girder…?'

11 year old Charlotte Stark is showing that she too, is one for trying to reach the top during the last Little League NYC Canaries against the Queens Bee Brigade where Stark hit an amazing 13 runs to seal the deal for the Canaries. Determined to succeed (just like her old man) this tiny kid helped her team beat the pants off the opposing team to a huge victory of 21 runs to 17…'

Tony gripped the paper. What? She didn't say anything about a game, said it was just practice…he read on…

'…Miss Stark when asked where Stark Senior was, told our reporter he was 'out avenging so that of course takes priority'….'…

A rising sick feeling began to envelope him. They weren't 'out avenging' on Sunday, they didn't do ANYTHING on Sunday, he spent it in his lab! Why then did she lie…?

Tony looked at the picture of his daughter. She was holding a trophy high in the air, grinning like no-one had grinned before with all her team mates around her. She looked so happy, so carefree…so different to the kid he saw everyday…the caption read 'Charlotte Stark, Top match player award'…

'Mr Stark, you need to take control of your breathing Sir…'…Friday's voice cut through his tension. Trophy, she didn't have a trophy when she came home, she just…went to her room!

His head was now spinning, that god-awful sickness feeling followed closely after as he fell from his chair, the room closing in, vaguely aware of Friday's voice…as his panic attack consumed him…

Oh god, what have I done…?