Minor edits from the original version.

So, super short chapter but I had kinda expected it to be. Kind of important though, and end of IM1. The next chapter is gonna be a bridge between IM1 and IM2.

Tippy: Thank you sissy! Obie gets what he deserves. Death. Poor, poor Zinny.

Guest: I'm 22 and if I still had parents you bet I'd still call them Mommy and Daddy. There's nothing wrong with it, but if you don't like it then that's your opinion. But it's totally normal.

wickedgrl123: She's not exactly going to be a super soldier. It gets explained a little more in this chapter, but it's kind of along the same lines, as far as the super soldier serum works. And as far as training, she's gonna have to hold out on that. That will be explained in the next chapter. And posts might be slowing down here a bit because I'm supposed to be starting a new job this week and plus I have my own homework that I have to do. But I'll try to post as often as I can. I want to post all the time, but sadly I must take breaks sometimes.

Winter kiss: She is getting powers, but they're a surprise. Until you read this chapter then not so much. But I'm glad you're enjoying it!

crimson. blood. witch: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying it!

Enjoy!

Waking up in strange places was starting to get really old. But, at least this time I could recognize where I was. I was in a hospital. One of my least favorite places. I had my fair share of experience both being a patient, and dealing with my dad as a patient in hospitals. Only, this hospital was a little different. There was no TV, no windows. Instead I was in a glass box, surrounded by people in white coats on the outside. It takes a second to hit me, but then I realize what's going on. I was being quarantined.

I understood why. I had just been injected with something that had killed god knows how many people before me, including my mother. But here I was, semi conscious and barely alert. I didn't know what had been put in my body, and apparently neither did any of the people in white coats. Otherwise I had a feeling I wouldn't be in here. Or they did know, and it was bad enough they had to quarantine me.

Through the glass walls of my prison, past the people in lab coats running around I can see my dad, angrily speaking with Agent Coulson. I can't read Agent Coulson's expression from this far away, but I can tell my dad is getting annoyed. He was not used to having someone else in control. Much less keeping him from calling the shots when it comes to me and my wellbeing.

I feel like I laid there for an hour before I finally got contact with someone. Of course they were dressed in a hazmat suit because why not? I try to keep my sass in check as he keeps his distance, trying to tell me to keep calm, that they're working on figuring out what I had been given and what it had done to me. But my vitals were good. That was a plus, I guess.

Another plus was my dad's "I do what I want" attitude in that moment. He comes barging in to my little glass prison, sans hazmat suit, much to the displeasure of all of the people in the room. He was going to be stuck in that glass prison until they could clear me, but I was sure he didn't mind. Unless I really was toxic. Then I would mind, and he would be stuck breathing in toxic air. But I didn't feel toxic.

"Hi, princess. How do you feel?" My dad takes a seat next to my bed, grabbing my hand in his. His hand is warm and calloused as normal. There's some fading cuts and bruises on his face, making me wonder what had happened.

"I don't really feel anything right now." It was true. My whole body felt numb to a degree, like my pain receptors had just given out after the paid I'd been in. "What happened while I was out?"

My dad tells me about the fight with Obie and his untimely death. I try to hold in a cheer. He tells me about SHIELD picking up him and Rhodey before bringing them here where I had been brought in, still in bad shape at that point. Rhodey had left with him to to do a press conference the next day to account for the explosion at Stark Industries, and the robots people had seen fighting in the streets. He tells me about deciding to reveal himself to the world, causing another media storm.

"Iron Man? That's what you're going with?"

He shrugs. "It works. A bit dramatic but memorable."

I nod. "Right. You know, being a superhero means you're supposed to have a secret identity usually. No one's actually supposed to know you're Iron Man. Besides you know, Pepper and I."

He makes a face. "Secret identities are too mainstream. Plus now I don't have anything to hide."

"Right. Cause you never hide anything."

He gives me a stern look, changing the subject from him. He asks me about what happened to me, and I tell him, keeping out the details about Obie being behind my mother's death. I didn't want to keep anything from him, but at the moment, he had enough on his plate. He didn't need to hear what had happened.

Finally after what feels like hours someone comes in with an explanation. Apparently the caution had been for naught, and I was not toxic after all. I figured this by the young woman coming in sans hazmat suit. Either that, or she thought I was safe enough to be around without safety gear.

"Hello, Miss Stark. My name is Jemma Simmons. I work with SHIELD as a Biochemist and I thought you would like to know that there are no dangerous chemicals that are going to expel from you. It appears your body has absorbed them all."

"That's good...right?"

She smiles. "Well, in a way, yes. But I found that the chemical mixture that you were injected with's main purpose was to alter strands of your DNA. A way to...wake up dormant genes so to speak."

"Wait...wake up dormant genes? What does that mean?" My dad asks, that focused look on his face again.

"Mr. Stark, we believe your daughter may have superhuman abilities. And the purpose of this serum was to awaken those genes. And the fact that she survived the alteration points to a high possibility that the genes were in fact activated."

My head was reeling. Dormant genes? Superhuman abilities? I knew my dad didn't have any abilities. But they had been testing it on my mother...did she have powers too? I had heard about superhuman people on the news a few times. Mostly causing problems, with the intent of doing harm or not they were always detained and taken away to a "safer place." I didn't want to know where the safer place was. For all I know I could be sitting in it right now.

Jemma was still talking, explaining things to my dad. I didn't want to hear anymore. They didn't have any proof that I had abilities. Maybe I survived due to a miracle. Fate decided I wasn't done being stupid yet. I couldn't possibly have powers. I didn't want to be taken away by my dad and locked in a room alone to suffer because I might be dangerous. I had already been through that, being alone in a room, not knowing how my dad is doing, not being there, not knowing if he's even alive. I had spent three months locked in a cell, helpless to someone else's agenda. I wasn't about to experience that again.

I hadn't noticed during my internal rant that things in the room had started shaking. Jemma and my dad had stopped talking, watching in bewilderment as the glass walls had started to shake, as well as the equipment inside the room. My determination not to get caught again rode my anger and fear like a highway right out, causing beakers to explode, various needles and surgical tools embedding themselves in the glass wall, cracks extending outward from where they hit the thick glass.

"Zinny? Hey, snap out of it princess."

My dad's voice brings me back down from the place I'd been. I look around the room in shock. All four glass walls are cracked, looking like they might shatter at any second. The floor is littered with surgical equipment, shattered syringes and glass. The IV stand which had been empty the entire time I was there was twisted and bent in half, like a tree that stood through a hurricane. I had done all of that. I had gotten lost in my emotions, letting them drive me and I had done nothing but destroy a room of medical equipment.

Jemma is standing near the doors, a look of shock on her face. My dad's face is equally shocked as he stands over me. I keep focused on my dad's face, tears pooling in my eyes.

"Dad…"

He wraps his arms around me. "It's okay. It's okay. We'll get through this. We'll figure it out. We always figure it out."