Part 3: Back to the Cave

"And now, I responded, consider this: If this person who had gotten out of the cave were to go back down again and sit in the same place as before, would he not find in that case, coming suddenly out of the sunlight, that his eyes were filled with darkness?" -Socrates, Allegory of the Cave

19. Blindness

The mission had been Tony's idea. And it had been a simple idea, although not one that Steve had been a huge fan of. In fact, he'd been flat out against it.

"You want to get yourself captured," Steve had demanded, voice flat, as they'd all sat around the long table in one of the conference rooms at the compound. He'd been working on the plan all night, ever since the night before when Friday had sent him an alert in the middle of his work, letting him know that she'd managed to break through one of Norman's firewalls. And then...and then she'd said the name.

"Boss, I believe I've found information in Norman Osborn's server on Penelope Parker."

That name had hit him like a tidal wave slamming into his stomach, making his lunch threaten to make a reappearance Penelope. Penny. Baby Penny Parker.

All these years, the toddler had never left his mind for long, with her tiny fingers tugging at his beard, then patting his face. Her little smile. The way she'd waited patiently for him to roll her sleeves up in the middle of a bar. And then...the news story. They'd never found her body.

She wouldn't be a baby anymore, he'd reminded himself, clutching the edge of the table where he'd been working, leaning over and taking deep breaths, in through his nose, out through his mouth. She would be a teenager. If she were alive. For a long moment, he hadn't dared ask. Hadn't dared to have Friday report. When he'd switched over to Friday, one of the first things he'd ordered her to do was to continue the running search for the girl. He wouldn't give up on Penny Parker. Not ever.

Finally, he'd stood upright, taking one last deep breath before waving a hand and summoning a screen. "Give it to me, Friday."

And she had.

The images that had filled his screen had made his stomach turn, and he'd only gotten through three of them before he'd finally lost his last meal, heaving into a metal trash can at the sight of a girl, maybe ten, covered in bruises and submerged in a bathtub full of ice, lips a dull blue color, eyes open and staring into nothing, a single tear running down her cheek. Not Penny, he'd told himself, because Penny hadn't had black hair or nearly black eyes.

But, he'd thought, this was another child. Just like the children in the pictures that Richard had given him that day so many years ago.

It was these new pictures that Tony had finally pulled out of a folder in the midst of Steve's rant about how bad an idea this was, spreading them out on the table in front of him, and the super soldier had cut himself off, jaw closing with a soft click. Natasha had blinked hard, looking away for just a moment while Bruce had grabbed the closest one, then had dropped it as if burned. That one had been a boy, probably thirteen or fourteen judging by the peach fuzz on his cheeks, covered in bruises with electrodes attached to his head. The number on top of the picture had been 021.

Later, much later, Penny would be in Tony's lab and she would see that picture. She would find the folder and her hand would freeze over the photo, mouth open, eyes wide and horrified. Tony would put a hand on her shoulder and start to close it, but the boy's name would fall from her lips like a plea. "Andre."

She would name the others, too. The girl in the bathtub was Kimmy. Kimmy, who hadn't survived the virus. Kimmy who had been best friends with Willa and who had liked to read books and play basketball, even though she hadn't known the rules. Willa, Penny had told him, pointing to a picture of a girl with a needle in her arm, back arched, photo capturing her mid-scream, had once snuck a pencil and a piece of paper out of the classroom and had drawn a picture in her room, hiding it under her mattress. A picture of what she thought a tree looked like, and a picture of a house.

Jo and Mark had been friends, Penny would tell him, placing the pictures of the two boys side by side, explaining that for the most part, the boys stuck together, as did the girls. She would point to Mark, his arms wrapped around his knees in the greenish picture, explaining that they sometimes left them in dark rooms for hours or days, no light or sounds...only their own heartbeats. She would point to Jo and the cuts lining his arms and tell Tony that they had all been introduced to things like dirt and broken glass ground into wounds to test their healing. To test which drugs worked on them. And then she would tell them that Jo had kissed her once when they'd been hiding in the back room where she and Susie had read books together, and where she'd climbed into the vents to meet him on that fateful day.

At the time, however, Tony had only known the numbers of these children, eyes lingering on the photo of 024. All the girls had short hair, and more than one had brown hair, but this girl, the one an IV in her wrist, brown eyes wide open and staring at the camera, struck a chord in him. Penny, he'd thought, staring at her number. 024. Was it her? Could it be?

The Avengers had stared at the photos, all looking sick and disgusted and so, so sad, but Tony hadn't let them think for long. "He's stealing children. Kidnapping then and experimenting on them and...we can't just sit back and let it happen.

It had been Natasha's idea to send Helen in first. At first, Tony had been opposed, but, Natasha had reminded him, they needed someone on the inside. Really, truly on the inside, and no way Osborn would buy any of them. And so they'd brought her into the room. Showed her the pictures. Asked if she'd be willing to take something like this on.

She'd agreed without hesitation.

Helen had been working for Osborn for a month and a half when Tony had gotten himself captured.

And Penny hadn't taken but one day to investigate. He'd been laying in his cell when he'd heard the soft noise of what he thought were footsteps. And then he'd turned to find a child climbing backwards down the wall, her short brown hair familiar from the photo, her gray jumpsuit and red 024 stitched on the back unfamiliar.

She'd been so afraid at first. And never would Tony have thought that things would turn out the way they had. He'd wanted to save those children, but the moment he and Steve had burst into the White Room, the sound of a gunshot had filled the room, and the girl in the bed close to Penny's had gone still, eyes open, a bloody hole in the center of her forehead.

They'd been about to shoot Penny when he'd shot the scientist in the face with his repulsor, Steve's shield slicing through the air and slamming into the head of the scientist who had just killed the girl that Tony would one day learn had been called Willa. Her jumpsuit had said 009.

There were more children, he knew. More children out there being experimented on and tormented by Osborn's scientist and guarded by the cowards who called themselves soldiers. But he hadn't been able to go after them...instead, he'd been forced to leave that to the others. Mostly Natasha and Clint. Because as he'd carried Penny Parker out of that building...when she'd looked up at the stars for the first time and gasped, he'd known that there was no one in the world that he would trust with her life. No one but himself. He would take care of her. He would be...he would be her father. Or as close to her father as he could get.

He hadn't expected to love her so much. He hadn't known that he was capable of loving anyone as much as he loved the girl who had become his daughter. Who looked to him to for direction and who was so afraid of messing up but who wanted to be good so badly. Who still had nightmares at least once a week of being sent back to that place, and who, on the days after those nightmares, would try to stick extra close to him.

But he did. He loved her. And Pepper loved her. And the Avengers all cared for her. And for once in his life, he felt like he had a real family.

Penny got out of school every day at 2:15. She caught the bus right after school, and was typically home by 2:45 at the latest, although usually closer to 2:30 if she managed to catch an earlier bus. At first, he'd been afraid to give her these freedoms...to send her to school and to let her spent time with her new friend Ned, but Pepper had pulled him aside on the girl's first day of school, pulling him out of a spiral of 'what if I'm doing the wrong thing' and 'what if something happens to her' with a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I know you love her, Tony. I love her too. But our girl is strong, and she needs these experiences. We have to let her have some kind of normal life. It's what she deserves. Even if she's scared. Even if we're scared."

And so Tony had done everything in his power to step back a little...to give her an age-appropriate amount of free time. Soon, the girl had developed her own routine of sparring with Steve and going to Ned's and getting herself to and from school every day. He still asked that she text him when she was on her way home, or when she was running late, and he still occasionally broke into her school's security system to catch a glimpse of her in class, just to make sure she was okay.

She was. She was okay. She was being a teenage girl, even occasionally rolling her eyes or sighing when inconvenienced, and the sight never failed to fill Tony's hear with a wave of awe and love and so much pride. All he had to do was remember the scared, confused girl he'd met on that first day...how she'd turned around after hopping off the wall, jumping back and meeting his eyes with her own frightened ones. How she'd asked him how old he was and stared at his hand before he'd explained what a handshake was. That girl had come so far...but he didn't think he could ever stop worrying about her.

He was in a meeting with the Avengers when he got her text letting her know that she was on her way home. Smiling a little at the words, he pocketed his phone before getting back to business, ignoring the little knowing smirks on the faces of his teammates. They all thought 'fatherhood suited him' or some shit like that.

It did. It truly did. Even if he'd never admit it to Steve Rogers. He loved it more than any job or project or mission he'd ever had. But the only one allowed to tease him about it was Rhodey. And Pepper. Occasionally Helen. Possibly Bruce. But not Steve.

"How is she?"

"She's fine," Tony told the man, rolling his eyes.

"She's going to be better at hand to hand than me pretty soon. Natasha, we're going to have to bring you down to train her."

Fine. Maybe Steve too. But only because he loved her. Anyone that loved Tony's kid was alright in his books.

"As I was saying," Steve continued, smiling a little at the papers in front of him before quickly sobering. "We think we have some leads on more Osborn facilities."

"You mean...more of those schools?" Thor asked, eyes narrow. "With children?"

"There are at least seven more possible locations. Penny said there were more children?"

Tony shook his head. "She mentioned that the numbers changed, and that there were younger kids, but I haven't asked her much about it. I'm guessing they keep the younger kids separate."

"How many children do we think there are?" Wanda wanted to know.

"I don't think there's any way of knowing until we clear these places out."

"When do we get started?" Clint asked, obviously more than ready to go.

"I was thinking we'd split up into teams and hit as many as we can at once. We don't want to give them a chance to keep moving these kids."

Or killing them, Tony thought. But that part didn't totally make sense. Why take these kids, raise them, and train them only to kill them when they turned 18? If they even made it that long. So...why? Why kill them if they made it to 18? Unless...unless they were doing something else to them.

That's why they needed to find Osborn.

For the next hour, they worked out a plan, Tony arguing that he should be on one of the teams and Steve shooting him down every time. "No way. You've got a kid, Tony."

"So does Barton!" he'd cried, gesturing to Clint.

"Yeah, but their mother stays with them."

"So does Pepper!"

"Tony, you can't leave her right now," Natasha murmured, shaking her head. "None of us expect you to. It's only been a few months...we can't risk something happening to you."

And he opened his mouth to argue, but deep in his chest, he'd known that they were right. Just the thought of leaving Penny...of something happening and him not coming back...it was unbearable. How would she survive that? How would she cope with losing him? He'd just adopted her. She'd just started to get comfortable with her new adoptive parents. How could he put that at risk?

It was almost four when he finally stretched, yawning and leaning back in his seat. "Alright. Not that this isn't riveting stuff, but I'd better go make sure my kid gets dinner. She's still pretty hopeless in the kitchen."

"Maybe I'll come by. Give her some lessons?" Wanda suggested. He nodded.

"Sounds good. I'll ask her when she wants to have a play date."

They all laughed as he stood, and Rhodey rose as well. "I think I'll come up with you. I haven't seen my new niece in a while."

"Okay, but I'm warning you, she just watched another Star Wars movie with her friend Ned so that's probably what she'll want to watch again if we have movie night."

Rhodey chuckled. "That's fine with me. And don't tell me you don't still love Star Wars."

"Hey, Star Wars is fine until your kid wants to watch it every week. She expected me to be surprised when Darth Vader told Luke he was his father. I had to break it to her that I saw that movie in the theater...then I had to explain that yes, we did have theaters and movies when I was young."

Rhodey chuckled as they stepped into the elevator and was still grinning when Friday deposited them on Tony's floor. The living room was dark, just like he'd left it, and he hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room. Usually Penny did her homework in the living room if no one was around, but it wasn't unheard of for her to work in her room. So, with Rhodey trailing behind, he heeded for the girl's bedroom and tapped his knuckles against the partially open door.

"Pen?"

Her room was dark.

That's when the panic first started to rise in his stomach.

"Penny!" he called, stepping into her dark room and noticing that there was no backpack on the floor where she usually left it. Her bathroom door was open, and the room was empty. Catching on quickly, Rhodey turned and tapped on Tony's bedroom door.

"Penny! You in there kiddo?"

Nothing. His apartment was silent.

"Friday? Where's Penny?"

"Penny has not yet arrived home from school."

His panic turned white-hot, threatening to choke him, and Rhodey pulled out his phone, stabbing the screen and holding it to his ear. Penny always answered her phone. Always.

"Voicemail," Rhodey whispered, and Tony knew something was wrong. Nothing would keep Penny from coming home. Nothing would stop her from answering her phone.

Rhodey put the phone to his ear again as Tony put his glasses on.

"Get me her location. Now, Fri!"

On the screen of his glasses, he watched the little red dot that was her location zero in on an alley a block and a half away from her school. "Get me a live feed!"

The screen changed from a maze of streets to actual security footage.

"Cap? Penny's not home...we don't know where she is!" Rhodey barked into his phone.

The alley was empty, and Tony was moving before he was aware of it, the Iron Man suit forming around him as he raced toward the window that opened for him.

"Tony's tracking her watch now. She's not answering her phone!"

That was the last thing Tony heard before he was shooting across the sky, repulsers at full blast as he moved from panic to bargaining. If she was okay, he wouldn't yell. He wouldn't let her know how terrified he had been. He wouldn't be angry. He would explain very calmly that he'd been worried and that she always had to tell him if she was going somewhere after school. That she was allowed but that he had to know. Always. He would take her to the movies, just the two of them, and get her popcorn and candy and all the soda she wanted and they'd watch whatever movie she wanted. He would make her waffles for breakfast, with the chocolate chips, and mac and cheese for lunch. He'd take her to the compound or take her to the beach or a fancy restaurant or Italy or wherever the hell she wanted to go if only she were okay. If only she was in that alley, reading a book or doing homework or making out with Ned...anything. Anything.

He landed with a clank, stomach churning when the alley was empty. "Penny?" he whispered, voice lodged in his throat. As he moved toward the place in his display where the red dot blinked, he spotted it. Her backpack, laying in a heap by a dumpster. Her cellphone, crushed as if under someone's shoe. And placed neatly on top of her backpack, as if intentionally, was her watch.

Thank you for reading!