Rhodey knew just what I wanted to be wearing when the plane landed. He brought a bright red sweater, a white button up shirt, my nice black jeans, and a pair of black and white sneakers. It was perfect under the powerful AC in the airplane. The AC was perfect.
The onsite doctor had checked me out. There was a small cast on my wrist, it had broken from the way I landed on it. He said it would be a few days before it could harden enough for people to sign it.
There was a time when I couldn't see Dad anywhere. It was a horrible two minutes. He came back out with until he came out dressed in a suit, his arm up in a sling. It was a relief that nothing had happened.
He came up to me, pulling me in a one armed hug. Clearly I hadn't been the only one distressed at the distance.
The plane had just landed. Rhodey told us Pepper was downstairs, with Happy. It made Dad and me smile. The smiles disappeared when we were told we'd have to be in wheelchairs for medical reasons. I'd never wanted to punch Rhodey until that moment. He was lucky my good punching fist was already in a cast. Dad had his own injuries, as one crashing in a metal suit was bound to have. His own wrist was broken. The medic was certain some other parts had been sprained, such as his legs and other wrist.
Once the plane landed, I waited in my designated wheelchair. Dad had told Rhodey in his usual nonchalant way to make sure I got off the plane safely. I had tried telling him I was fine, that the broken wrist was the worst of it. If anyone told him the bruised ribs were making difficult to breathe, I'd argue it was the LA air and also shut up. Still, Dad made sure Rhodey would be the one to put me back on American soil.
Despite the protests, I was guided down the ramp by Rhodey. Another soldier was helping Dad down.
"Watch it, coming up here." Rhodey warned. I nodded, watching my step.
There were ambulances off to the side. Four medics came over, rolling two of their stretchers. I tensed in Rhodey's arms. I wasn't ready to have Dad out of my sight that long.
Besides, the last time I was in a car that small it exploded.
"Are you kidding me with this?" Dad asked from Rhodey's other side. He was on the same thought path I was. "Get rid of them."
Rhodey agreed, shoeing the medics away.
Once that happened, rhodey was certain I had my land-legs back. Dad and I walked over to his limo, where Pepper stood vigilant.
"Your eyes are red." Dad noted. "A few tears for your long-lost boss and his daughter?"
"Tears of joy. I hate job hunting." Pepper lied.
"Yeah, vacation's over." He got right back on the high horse. No three months of nearly dying and no fake heart could keep him down!
Then again, I'm not letting it keep me down either.
'We'll miss you, Yinsen.'
We all climbed in the car. Thank had gotten a limo, which was nice. There was room for me in this thing. Just the idea of going in anything smaller than this was making my clench my hands in anxiety.
I was sitting on one of the seats along the side. Dad and Pepper took the back. Once in my seat, I let out a breath of relief. We were home.
"Where to, sir?" Happy asked.
"Take us to the hospital, please, Happy." Pepper instructed.
"No." Dad spoke.
"No? Tony, you have to go to the hospital. Becky has to go to the hospital." Pepper reminded.
"Can you stop using me as an excuse?" I asked.
"No is a complete answer." Dad countered.
"The doctor has to look at the two of you." Pepper went on.
"We don't have to do anything." Dad stated plainly, if a bit forcefully. "We've been in captivity for three months. There are two things we want to do. I want an American cheeseburger."
"I'd like some mozzarella sticks." I added.
"Get her those sticks. And a milkshake. What flavor?" Dad asked.
"Large chocolate. I've been craving chocolate this week." I answered, albeit shyly.
"Then you'll have it." Dad decided. "And the other-"
"That's enough of that." Pepper interrupted. I winced. She never did like any of his flings.
"-is not what you think." Dad assured. 'Just kiss each other. One time. It's all my little shipper heart desires.' "I want you to call for a press conference now."
"Call for a press conference?" Pepper asked, shocked.
"Yeah."
"What on earth for?" Pepper asked.
Dad looked at me, something on the edge of meaningful in his eyes. "Hogan, drive. Her sticks and shake first, then we get the cheeseburger." Dad explained.
Happy just sighed. He did what Dad asked, but he did it with a sigh.
==NM==
'The memory of other milkshakes are pale in comparison to this one right here.'
I imagine I was looking the full image of a Stark now. Coming in to an important press conference, dressed in a red sweater and old jeans, with a chocolate milkshake from Sonic in one hand, and mozzarella sticks in the other.
So as a real Stark, I didn't care what everyone else was thinking. This milkshake was too good.
The taste wasn't even soured when Obadiah Stane walked up to the limo.
"...As you can see, Obadiah Stane, your deception and lies will cost you dearly. The price to kill the Starks has just gone up..."
Maybe it was the thought that he tried to have Dad killed, or the image of Obadiah ripping the reactor from his pale chest, or the threat he would eventually make on Pepper's life. Whatever the reason, I glared at him.
Dad walked out first, followed closely by Pepper and myself. Obadiah hugged Dad, tightly. I tensed at the idea of hugging him. Instead, I stayed close to Pepper. Everyone was paying attention to Dad. Nothing out of the usual here.
"Look at this!" Obadiah cheered. The photographers flashed their cameras in rapidfire. "Tony. We were going to meet at the hospital."
"No, we're fine." Dad assured him. He was making his way through the crowd of paparazzi. He glanced back at me, to make sure I was still here. I held up my milkshake hand, giving him a thumb's-up. He motioned me forwards with a quick bob of his head.
I don't know what made me walk forward. Something about coming home had made Dad seem… easier to talk with. There was a bond of trust. As horrible as what happened to us was, I knew I was safer at the side of a Stark.
"Look at you!" Obadiah laughed. He was smiling at both of us. "You had to have a burger, yeah?"
"Becky needed a milkshake." Dad corrected. He pointed back to me. I didn't smile at him, just drinking down more of my miracle milkshake.
Obadiah didn't even pretend to be interested. "Well, come on." He walked with Dad. Dad walked with me. "You get me one of those?"
"There's only one left. I need it." Dad excused.
But I looked back to Pepper, to Happy, wondering for a long moment if it was too late to tell anyone about the translated video.
==NM==
The crowd cheered once we turned the corner. Cameras were flashing in my eyes. I squinted against it, following beside Dad.
It was becoming overwhelming again. My mind kept reminding me of the last time I had this many bright lights in my face, just before I had to install the reactor over Dad's heart.
My spare hand grabbed his coat sleeve. It was the empty one, since his arm was still in the sling.
"Hey, look who's here! Yeah!" Obadiah announced with almost sincere cheer.
Coulson was talking with Pepper. I stuck with Dad. My heart was starting to race again. This felt too close to the video filming in the cave.
"Hold on, Rebecca." Obadiah held up a hand in front of me. "This is for the big wigs. You should stay back with Miss Potts. You're not exactly ready for this kind of thing."
Before I could start crumbling in my shoes, Dad came to my defense.
"Not happening. No. She's got as much to do with this as I do." Dad came up, wrapping his arm protectively over my shoulders. More than that he stood between myself and Obadiah, as if subconsciously understanding that Obadiah had been the one I was afraid of.
In the cave it'd become normal for this. If Dad felt a threat towards his daughter, those repressed paternal instincts kicked into overdrive. Out here in LA? It just looked odd for the previously distant father to protect his brat with such urgency.
"Come on, Beaky." Dad guided me towards the side of the stage.
The older business man sighed slightly. He was giving me a cautious look before walking up to the podium.
Once he was out of hearing range, I whispered "Thank you Dad."
"No problem. But...are you really okay?"
"No." I answered. "It just...too many bright lights, and people taller than me."
He nodded in understanding. "Come on. I got an idea."
He moved us to the front of the podium. I proudly sat next to him, still drinking the shake.
"Alright. Let's get started." Obadiah began. He drifted off when he realized the Starks were not beside him.
"Hey, would it be all right if everyone sat down? Why don't you just sit down?" Dad asked. He pulled the extra burger out of his pocket. I was halfway through the milkshake. "That way you can see us, and we can." He motioned to the photographers.
The press lowered themselves to the floor. My panic was fading away the lower the group was. My hand didn't let go of Dad's empty sleeve.
"A little less formal and, yeah great." Dad encouraged.
Soon, everyone was sitting down. Obadiah came around. I realized with a barely concealed jolt that he was kneeling down beside me.
"Good to see you." Dad greeted Obadiah.
The older business man smiled way too thinly. He made a motion that I thought was a 'you should be dead because I ordered your executions but you're alive so now I have to be nice' head tilt. "Good to see you." He repeated. He made sure to look at both of us, in what was supposed to be friendly and welcoming, but to me felt sinister.
"I never got to say goodbye to Dad." He replied. Obadiah looked at Dad in surprise at the non sequitur. "I never got to say goodbye to my father, Becky didn't get to say goodbye to him. You know Becky right?" He told the reporters.
"Hello." I waved my fingers. Some of the reporters smiled kindly at me. I appreciated it.
"There's questions that I would have asked him." Dad went on. "I would have asked him how he felt about what this company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts." He looked over at me. "I would've asked him about being a parent." He admitted. In response, I lowered my milkshake to give a shaky smile to the crowd. "Or maybe he was every inch the man we all remember from the newsreels."
Rhodey and I both gave small chuckles to that.
"I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them." Dad went on to explain. "And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability. I saw that, my kid would be a part of that system someday."
"Mr. Stark!" A few reporters asked.
Dad elbowed me with his shoulder. "You pick one."
I blinked, momentarily surprised. "Benny?" I pointed at the reporter I remembered speaking from the movie.
Dad nodded. Probably-hopefully- thinking I made a good choice. "Hey, Ben."
"What happened over there?" Ben asked.
Dad rose up to his feet. I stood up, deciding to lean against the podium. It took a lot out of me not to step on Obadiah's hand on principle.
"I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that the Starks have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up." Dad explained. It surprised me again that I was being brought up. But, I knew he was talking about how I built his new heart, that I helped build that suit. "And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark International until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be."
The crowd. Went. Nuts.
They all stood up. The cameras all flashed again with life. They shouted questions at us in rapidfire. Obadiah rushed up to the podium. In a quick rush of protective instinct, I rushed to the other side of Dad to pull him away in case Obadiah tried anything funny.
Obadiah tried to get control back from Dad. But Starks are stubborn bastards. Dad made no room for him to speak.
"What direction it should take, one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well." Dad went on.
He peace made, Dad walked away. I followed behind, telling myself to keep my chin up. 'Do not let them see your fear' I reminded myself.
"What we should take away from this is that the Starks are back!" Obadiah cheered behind us. "And they're healthier than ever. We're going to have a little internal discussion and we'll get back to you with the follow-up."
He was right about one thing.
We were back.
And he wouldn't get rid of us so easily ever again.
==NM==
Dad brought me to the original reactor.
It was a great big building, with even bigger windows. It felt easier to breathe here. The familiar taste of burning electronics coupled with the loud humming of the fans. My shoes scuffing against linoleum flooring. A trashcan that wasn't just an old rusty bucket.
I had taken off the red sweater, hanging it over the railing. As great as it was to wear sweaters again, there was an added bonus of letting the AC give you shivers.
"Why did you do that?" I asked him.
"It's what you would have done." Dad replied.
"...yeah? And? You never do things because someone else would have done them." I countered. "Well, you might have just to say you did it first."
It's true. If the moon landing hadn't already happened, Tony Stark would've made his own rocket to fly up there, and put a flag with the Stark Enterprises symbol on it. Then he would get blackout drunk to celebrate.
That was old Tony. I'm not sure what new Tony would've done.
Dad grinned. He grabbed the railing with his good hand, looking up at the reactor.
"Thanks...for telling them I had talents." I leaned against the railing too, being mindful of my bad wrist. Beside me, Dad chuckled. "Okay. That sounded bad." I laughed. I held up a finger, funnily enough from the broken wrist hand. "I meant...Did you really eat a cheeseburger in front of them?"
Dad snorted. "I did, yeah. You drank a milkshake."
And that was when father and daughter lost it. We laughed uncontrollably. It was the quiet 'bad joke' laughter. It was the kind of laughter that you couldn't seem to get the handle on. If you tried, you just snorted so hard your nose would hurt. Your eyes would water. The mostly empty room echoed your laughter back to you, which made it sound ridiculous so you laughed harder.
Some people would tell you we were laughing off the stress. Others would say we must've finally lost our minds. Close friends would say they hadn't ever seen Tony and Becky laughing together since puberty.
Obadiah? He was on the side that said we'd lost our minds.
The look was clear on his face when he walked in. A heavy cigar in his mouth, barely restrained rage in his eyes, hands on his hips. Oh we were going to be scolded god-father style.
"Well, that...that went well."
His words had a sobering effect on us. I coughed to get rid of the last bits of laughter. My gaze went down to my sneakers in shame.
"Did I just paint a target on the back of our heads?" Dad asked, motioning to himself and me.
"Your heads?" Obadiah stalked behind us. He glared at our heads as if imagining that target. "What about my head?"
'You mean when we go on your computer and find out you gave our guns to terrorists? Yeah you're dead meat.'
"What do you think the over-under on the stock drop is gonna be tomorrow?" I asked. Obadiah looked at me in surprise. Dad took off his coat, hanging it on the railing along with his tie. "Yeah. I know business things. What's the over-under?"
"Optimistically, 40 points." Obadiah answered, still unsure. He glared at Dad. "At minimum."
"Yep." Dad added.
"That'll be fun." I added with a teasing grin.
"Now Tony-" Obadiah started in a completely patronizing way. "Whatever peace loving hippie ideas Rebecca put in your head these past few months about this company, you need to remember. We're a weapons manufacturer." Obadiah instructed.
Things were making sense towards his less than stellar attitude. I was the bigger threat, as heir apparent to Stark Industries. That, and I had been taking up the company soon. Obadiah knew I wouldn't be so far from the reports, that I would be much more involved than Tony. I was sure to notice him selling the weapons first.
So he suggests I join Dad on his trip.
For my execution.
But here I was. Alive and well. With my dad. Who had just decided to stop making weapons.
"Obie, I just don't want a body count to be our only legacy." Dad stated.
"That's what we do. We're iron mongers." Obadiah explained, giving us both pointed looks. More me than Dad, anyway. "We make weapons."
"It's her name on the side of the building too." Dad reminded. "And it wasn't her decision, it was mine."
"And what we do keeps the world from falling into chaos." Obadiah countered sternly.
"Not based on what we saw. We're not doing a good enough job. We can do better. We're gonna do something else." Dad argued.
"Like what? You want us to make baby bottles?" He snapped.
"Arc reactor technology." I answered simply. It had been the first time I spoke in this argument. My voice felt stronger because of it. Looking up, I met Obadiah's eyes. "Let's give it a second chance."
The older man looked at me with the humoring smile someone gave an overdramatic child.
"Come on. The arc reactor, that's a publicity stunt! Rebecca, come on. We built that thing to shut hippies like you up!" Obadiah scolded.
"Hippies like me? Do I look like a hippie to you?" I snapped back.
Dad groaned beside me. He kept his gaze on the large arc reactor, probably to try and tune us out.
"It doesn't matter anyway." I stated, trying to keep some kind of peace. "It works."
"Yeah, as a science project." Obadiah ranted. He was pacing around us. "The arc was never cost effective. Your father and I knew that before we built it." He stopped behind Dad's back. He glanced down at the direction of the mini arc reactor through Dad's back. I had the sudden urge to claw at his lecherous face. "Arc reactor technology, that's a dead end, right?"
"Maybe." Dad taunted. He turned to Obadiah with a straight face. I was able to keep my anger subdued. Somehow.
"Am I right? We haven't had a breakthrough in that in what?" Obadiah shrugged. He didn't look away from Dad. "Thirty years."
"That's what they say." Dad tapped my arm with his free hand.
I rolled my eyes at Obadiah's expression.
"Could you have a lousier poker face? Just tell me, who told you?" Dad asked.
"Never mind who told me. Show me." Obadiah requested.
"It's Rhodey or Pepper." Dad reasoned. "Becky hasn't left my side for a minute."
"I want to see it." Obadiah demanded.
"It was Rhodey." I decided, nonchalant. "Pepper wouldn't have said a damn thing."
"That's right. She wouldn't." Dad agreed.
"Okay." Obadiah buttoned up Dad's shirt. 'I'm sure the last thing he wants is for everyone to see Becky Stark's work of genius'. "Okay?"
"It works. She built it." Dad motioned to me. "She built it. Becky. You should've seen her, Obie, she was-"
"Dad." I blushed, trying to hide my face behind my hair. It didn't work.
"No. Hey, come on, you gotta take credit when you do something." Dad instructed.
"Okay, okay. I'll take credit for things." I made myself laugh. It was hard to fully relax with Obadiah watching us. There had been a camera on me for three months straight. Despite knowing the people on the other side had guns, I felt safer under that than I did under Obadiah's cold empty eyes.
"Listen to me, Tony." He threw an arm over Dad. He glanced at me, reluctant. "Rebecca." He added as an afterthought, throwing his other arm over my shoulder. It put his face uncomfortably close to mine.
I tensed under his arm. The smell of his cigar exhale went right over my nose. The cigar itself was resting on my hair.
"We're a team now. Do you understand?" Obadiah explained to Dad and I. He lowered his voice, giving an air of importance to his words. "There's nothing we can't do if we stick together, like your father and I." He glanced at me again. "Like your father and I have been doing since you were a toddler."
The image of young Obadiah with my dad, and a baby version of me, sent a chill down my spine. It didn't help that my mind was playing that tape again in my head. "As you can see, Obadiah Stane, your deception and lies will cost you dearly."
"I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads-up, okay?" Dad immediately tried to build back the peace. "But if I had-"
'You would've stopped him.' I finished for him. 'We couldn't save Yinsen, but we could be the kind of people he wanted us to be.'
"Tony. Tony, no more of this 'ready, fire, aim' business. You understand me?" Obadiah requested with an underlying order.
"That was Dad's line." Dad commented snidely.
"I remember reading that newspaper." I added with as much distaste.
"You gotta let me handle this." He suggested as if we hadn't spoken. Obadiah could try all he wanted. He wasn't family. He would never be family. We barely liked family or when someone brought up family. "We're gonna have to play a whole different kind of ball now. We're going to have to take a lot of heat."
I glared at him. This would probably sound childish. He was totally dropping some ash in my hair as he removed his arm from my shoulder.
Dad went to pick up his coat. I lifted up my sweater, following after the two men.
"I want you to promise me that you're gonna lay low." Obadiah requested.
Dad looked back at me over Obadiah's shoulder. He winked at me with a proud smirk.
I grinned, snickering under my breath. 'We were home.'
==NM==
AN: Ahhhh...I'm so happy right now. The college stuff is coming together. I'm working at theatre camp. I have a job all lined up.
Becky/Morgan is far from happy this time. I wanted to write here that she's not as strong as she likes to make herself out to be. Despite being 96, she's young. The time has changed her as it would have changed anyone else.
And I wanted some growth on Tony's part. Someone pointed out way back when "I don't believe Tony would do that-be so rude to his kid". I wanted to show that Deadbeat-Tony is growing up.
Thanks to PumpkinSpiceAndEverythingNice, Whydoitmc, animelover78861, Kaiserin Rose, kadmac, Austin Morgan, coolcatuui, Idol-Sequence, alexa-chan me, and Marvel-comic-girl for favoriting
Thanks to Whydoitmc, Sandraxx, Kaiserin Rose, MadSnow, Ai-Rose4, rockobrocko, kadmac, coolcatuui, Idol-Sequence, alexa-chan me, and Marvel-comic-girl for following