Minor edits from the original version.
So. Things are getting serious. Just a couple more chapters and I'll be done with the first Iron Man movie. It's been an exciting ride so far and I can't wait to torture Zinny some more. Just kidding, I do love her. But she's going to get tortured a lot more before she finally gets her happy ending.
Tippy: Hell yeah he is! Idk why though, I don't think he was supposed to be creepy. But Zinny is gonna need some serious laundry detergent before this is over.
wickedgrl123: Welcome to the torture party! Iron Skye is a bit of a beast, and I don't think I could even read it all in one sitting and I wrote it! This is my attempt to fix the complicated monster that became Iron Skye and I'm glad you found it before it gets over 100 chapters again. Actually, I don't know how long this one's going to be. I didn't really expect to still be in IM1 12 chapters in, so we'll just have to see where it goes. But thank you for reading! Zinny is gonna come out of her shell here pretty soon. I'm excited to bring in some other characters as well! Especially a certain one.
BuckyBarnes07: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it so much!
crimson. blood .witch: Hopefully this wasn't too long of a wait. I got busy today and couldn't really write.
Enjoy!
Pepper took things surprisingly well. Her unwavering dedication to my dad helped. I wasn't there for the whole spiel, knowing they would want to do that privately. I had my own words to share with my dad, going off to Afghanistan to fight people without telling me. It made me angry, the worry blending into anger at his decision to run off like that. More irrational anger? You betcha.
There's a churning in my gut once again, the feeling that something bad is going to happen very soon. I thought it had simply been the terror from my dad flying to Afghanistan, but it was still there despite the terror having worn off. I head to my room, going to the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. I had gotten my color back, no longer paler than usual and sickly looking. My face had filled out again, thanks to many midnight trips to Burger King with my dad while working on the suit. The bruise where my face had been slammed into a cave wall was gone, nothing more than a memory now. There was still a mark on my cheek, a thin white line across my cheekbone from where I'd gotten backhanded after spitting in the creeper's face. I never found out what happened to him. I hoped my dad dropped a pile of rocks on him or something.
The longer that I stare at myself, the more my face changes to my eyes. I had read about the study that was done, that staring at your face for too long makes your brain change the way you see it. How it can make you see monsters. And I was staring at one. I could hear his voice still talking, calling me pretty, threatening to keep me for himself. The thoughts add to the anger already bubbling in my chest, my mind going on overdrive as I think about all of the horrible things that would have happened to me, what would have happened if my dad had built the missile, and if he hadn't built it. The anger at my dad for leaving like that, neglecting to tell me where he was going. Back to the place where it had all started.
The monster in the mirror smiles at me, his voice echoing in my head. Before I realize what I'm doing, my fist is through the mirror, the entire thing shattering into pieces, falling onto the counter and on the floor. The pain starts to register, small pieces of glass embedded into my knuckles, blood starting to trickle out of the larger wounds. I can hear my dad running, calling my name. JARVIS no doubt had alerted him to what had just happened.
He appears in the doorway, looking at me in shock. "Zinny...what happened?"
I look up from where I'd been staring at my hand, mesmerized by the blood, tears pooling in my eyes. "Daddy…"
He's by my side in an instant, leading me away from the mess of mirror shards, down to his garage. He helps me onto one of his work tables before grabbing the extensive first aid kit that was stored away for times like these. I watch him as he comes over, setting the first aid kit down, grabbing a pair of tweezers.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?"
He takes my hand in his, holding it so he can see while he pulls out pieces of glass. I watch him for a moment. He definitely had mechanic's hands, rough and calloused from working so long. But he could also be gentle, like right now. His touch was light, but firm enough to hold me still, gently pulling out the glass shards to keep from aggravating the wounds anymore. It always surprises me, how many layers there are to him, and not many people get to see them. My eyes look up to his face, watching him as he focuses, lines forming on his forehead as he furrows his brow in concentration.
"I'm sorry, daddy."
"What for?"
He finishes picking the glass out of my hand, grabbing some gauze to wrap my knuckles.
"I'm not okay. I try to be, but I'm not. I-I can't be okay. I'm not strong like you."
My dad finishes wrapping my knuckles, tossing the gauze on the table before pulling a stool over, sitting in front of me. He looks down at his hands, before looking up at me. I can't read the expression on his face, his emotions mixing together.
"Princess...no one expects you to be okay. We both went through some shit. The attack, the kidnapping, being held hostage. I don't even know the half of what you went through in the hands of those men. I may look like I'm okay, but that's just because I've had years of practice at making sure I always look fine." He takes a deep breath. "But on the inside I'm far from it. I'm angry that all of this happened because of me. I want to fix it. Flying to Afghanistan, destroying the weapons, freeing those people from the terrorists, that's just the start. I still get scared sometimes, thinking about what could have happened to you. How easily I could have lost you. I can't sleep because every time I close my eyes I'm back in that cave. I'm trying to make things right. But I still can't shake the feeling that this is all a dream."
I take his hand in mine, squeezing it lightly. "It's not. We've both felt enough physical pain in the past few weeks to be sure that it's not." I sigh. "We're both pretty messed up, huh?"
My dad shakes his head. "Nah. We've just been through a lot. We've got a lot of work to do, to get back to normal."
"But what if I don't want normal?"
My dad frowns again. "What do you mean."
"...normal for me is never seeing you. Getting ignored for your work or women." I spread my arms out, looking around the garage. "I don't get to do this with you. I don't want to lose this."
My dad squeezes my hand. "And you won't. I promise. You know I've always been here. I haven't been the best father. But I've tried to protect you. What happened just shows that I wasn't trying hard enough." He glances at the suit. "But now I am. I promise I won't let anything happen to you ever again."
I try to believe his words, but that coil of dread was still spinning in my stomach. That buzzing in the back of my head telling me this isn't over, that something bad is coming is still there. I want to believe that he's right, that he'll protect me. But with the feeling of foreboding hanging over me, I couldn't quite put my heart into it.
My dad swipes his thumb over the dark circles under my eyes. "Why don't you go get some rest? You look like you need it."
I nod, sliding off the table. "I will. Thanks, daddy." I kiss his cheek before heading back up the stairs, heading to my room.
Sleep doesn't come to me, despite my trying, laying in my dark room under the covers. I don't know how long I lay there, trying to relax unsuccessfully. My mind was still reeling, the talk with my dad really hitting home. Why he rebuilt the suit, why he did what he did. Why he did a lot of things. I felt guilty for screaming at him, being such a terrible daughter. The guilt is eating away at me, just as much as the sense of impending trouble.
I finally give up trying to relax, deciding to start a movie. "JARVIS?" No answer. There was always an answer. "JARVIS?" My dad would have told me if the AI was going to be down for maintenance. He had been working fine earlier.
My heart leaps into my throat as I jump out of bed, opening my door only to hear a voice floating up the stairs. The last voice I wanted to hear.
Stane.
My heart is pounding double time now and I slowly move back into my room, shutting my door silently, praying he hadn't heard it open. I lock it before grabbing my phone, running to my bathroom, shutting myself inside. I dial my dad's number, hoping to get an answer, but he doesn't. He had been downstairs in the garage when I came to bed. But there was no way I could get down there without Stane seeing me.
I'm dialing Pepper's number when I hear footsteps outside my door. I pray it's my dad, that he'll just imput his code and the door will unlock. I hold my breath as the handle jiggles, backing up against the counter, something sliding against the granite surface. I reach back, feeling one of the mirror shards. It's a decent sized piece, the end of it wicked sharp. I hold it in my hand, jumping as the door is broken open, JARVIS not running to seal it completely.
I grip the mirror shard, trying not to cut myself as I wait.
"Come out, come out wherever you are. I'm not going to hurt you, Zinnia. I just wanna talk." I can hear him nearing the bathroom. ''Uncle Obie just wants to ask a favor of you."
I know I won't be able to fight him if he gets the bathroom door open and there's no way to get out of the bathroom. Even if I managed to break one of the windows, it was a long fall into the pacific ocean. And then I'd have to swim a few thousand feet to either side in the dark to get to a beach. My only chance to get out of this is to maybe take him by surprise and run for the garage. There I would stand a chance of either escaping with a car, or using a weapon to fight him.
With a surge of adrenaline I fling the door open, nearly hitting him with it as I rush out, but he's still faster than me, grabbing my arm. But thankfully, not the one with the mirror shard. I swing back with my opposite arm, cutting his face with the shard, shocking him enough that his grip slips and I slide out, running for the door. He recovers faster than I thought he would, and he catches me again before I can make it down the stairs. I struggle but it's futile as something sharp pricks my neck, making me go limp.
"There we go. There's no need to fight. I'm going to take real good care of you, Zinnia."
The last thing I see before I black out are the stairs hurtling towards my face, and I'm sure if I hadn't been blacking out, I would have been laughing at the irony.
