Chapter Text
Your name was (Y/n) Stark. And your story? It was a complicated one.
Your father was incredibly famous. A billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and a manufacturer of weapons. Stark Industries to be exact. And it was because of his playboy nature that you came to be.
He'd never told you exactly what happened, but, as you got older, it was easy enough to figure out that your mother was just another one night stand to him. She died when you were born so you never got to know her. Because of that, you were all but forced on your father and it was always easy to tell he didn't appreciate it.
Tony and you didn't have a great relationship. He was always away 'working', and, if he wasn't working, he was drinking or hooking up. You thought it was to get away from you.
You were sitting in your room now bored to death. Your dad was supposed to be heading to his plane for some trip to Afghanistan to unveil a new weapon or something. You didn't really pay much attention. He should've left over an hour ago but he was Tony Stark so of course he was never on time. You didn't know how long he'd be gone but you were sixteen and had learned to look after yourself from a very young age. Plus you had Pepper around so it's not like you wouldn't see anyone.
When you heard JARVIS saying he was about to leave, you got up and headed downstairs. You were about to say goodbye when you overheard your name being mentioned.
"Shouldn't you say goodbye to (Y/n)?" Pepper asked.
"Just tell her I'll be back eventually." You heard your dad say in response.
That hurt like a punch to the gut. Why didn't he want to say goodbye to you?
"Tony, she's your daughter."
"I'm aware."
"Don't you think-"
"-Trust me, she knows how to look after herself. She'll survive a day or two alone."
You heard the door shut and sighed. You debated going after him but decided against it, thinking that if he cared, he would have said goodbye. Clearly, he didn't. Instead, you just went back up to your room. You had a gorgeous view of the ocean from your Malibu home. You had a life of luxury, being the daughter of a billionaire, but the public didn't know much about you. Some people speculated about your name, but that was pretty much it.
You looked out at the beautiful horizon and wished more than anything you could get out and see the world. You were jealous of your dad in that way because his job had him travelling everywhere from Washington to Monaco, London to Tokyo, and so much more.
And now he was in Afghanistan.
But he'd be okay. It was just a weapons demonstration. He'd be home by the week's end.
-Four Days Later-
-Tony POV-
Tony Stark was not okay. I mean, who would be after being kidnapped by a terrorist organization and having your life completely dependant on an electromagnet and a car battery?
They wanted him to build the Jericho missile, the one he demonstrated a few days before. But, despite the danger of not cooperating, he had other plans anyway. The man he was locked up with, Yinsen, was going to help him build their way out of there.
But, as night settled, the two sat across a makeshift table and played a game on the backgammon board Yinsen had fashioned from Lebanese cedar. They used bolts as pieces but at least had an actual pair of dice.
"Good." Yinsen nodded as Tony moved a piece. "Good roll."
"You still haven't told me where you're from." Tony responded.
"I'm from a small town called Gulmira. It's actually a nice place."
"Got a family?"
"Yes, and I will see them when I leave here. And you, Stark?"
Tony paused what he was doing, looking down. He thought about you immediately. His daughter. His little girl. He knew he was a terrible father and he never tried fixing that. It was his biggest regret at that moment. He wondered if you were okay, if you even missed him or noticed he was missing.
"I have someone." He eventually confessed. "But we aren't close."
Yinsen looked at him, almost curious, as if he knew exactly what he'd been thinking about. "So you're a man who has everything and almost nothing."
-(Y/n) POV-
Your leg bounced up and down, nerves overpowering every sense you had. It had been days and you hadn't heard anything from your dad. Usually that was normal, you'd assume he was just drinking senselessly and picking up some random girl from a bar, but something didn't seem right.
Part of you really didn't care anymore because of how he so easily left without a goodbye, but the part of you that secretly loved your dad was terrified. There had been rumors circulating, people already making up theories about how he was dead, kidnapped, or hiding out on some private island. It did nothing to help the anxiety.
And so you deemed it necessary to go to the Stark Industries HQ and talk to someone who knew what was going on. Your first thought was Obadiah Stane. He used to be a good friend of your grandfather, the legendary Howard Stark, and became an important part of Tony's life when Howard died and he took over. You knew him quite well since you'd talked a couple times.
"Sorry, miss, we can't let you pass." One of the security guards said as you turned into the hallway that led into Obadiah's office.
"Why not?" You asked.
"We're gonna need some identification."
"(Y/n) Stark."
The two guards stared at you in confusion before looking at each other. You knew immediately they were skeptical.
"You got anything to prove that?" Guard two asked.
You sighed. "What, the Gucci belt and Louis Vuitton bag don't do it for you?"
"Miss-"
"-Let me through."
"We're under strict orders."
"I don't care. Just let me see Mr. Stane."
You were losing patience. Your dad had been radio silent for four straight days. That wasn't normal. Even by now you would have seen pictures on the Internet or some news article talking about his latest scandal, but there was nothing. You needed to know if he was still in Afghanistan or not.
"Listen. I'm tired, I'm fed up, and I really don't have the patience for your shit. Now, if you don't move out of my way, I promise I won't get physical, but I do have ways to make you sad for a very... Very long time."
You crossed your arms, waiting expectantly. The two seemed uneasy and for a moment you thought they would call security to have you thrown out. However, you were pleasantly surprised when they stepped to the side, looking anywhere but in your eyes. You couldn't help smirking a little as you walked past them and down the hallway.
Obadiah's office was at the end. Usually there was a secretary waiting to interrogate whoever wanted to visit, but she was gone. You walked up to the door and were about to knock when something you heard stopped you dead in your tracks.
"He's not dead?"
You froze, confused.
"What do you mean he's not dead? You were supposed to kill him on the road. What happened to the plan?!"
You flinched at the shout, assuming he was on the phone. You wondered what he meant by 'you were supposed to kill him'? And what plan? Did Obadiah want someone dead? Who?
"What do you mean, he's building a weapon? Listen to me, you cannot trust Stark to cooperate. He's like wildfire. Kill him while you have the chance. If you don't, I'll come over there and kill him myself!"
You looked up, wide-eyed. Your heart started to quicken and it felt like the world was spinning. Surely you misheard or misunderstood. Why would one of your dad's closest friends plan to kill him? Was Obadiah the reason he was missing? It sounded like it.
"Finish the job and I'll pay you what we agreed on. Nothing more, nothing less. Do we have a deal?"
You strained to catch what he was saying but yelled in surprise when something collided with the other side of the wall you were leaning against. You covered your mouth with your hands, terrified.
The door opened and when Obadiah saw you standing there, he looked angrier than you'd ever seen him.
The look in his eyes was almost outright murderous. Without so much as a word, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the office, slamming the door shut and locking it.
"What did you hear?" He demanded to know, voice low and dangerous.
You shook your head, fear rooting you to the spot. "W-What do you mean?"
"Don't play dumb, (Y/n)."
"I-I'm not. I didn't hear anything."
He sighed in frustration and began to pace around. "Tell me what you heard and maybe we can come to an arrangement."
You swallowed a large amount of air, your hands shaking as you watched the man get more and more aggravated the longer you stayed silent. He knew you were there so there was no point in lying. But if he wanted to kill your dad, did that mean he wanted to kill you too?
"What happened to my dad?" You asked.
Your voice was so timid and quiet that even you barely heard it. Obadiah continued to pace but slowed a little to look at you.
"Your father got himself into trouble. He's in danger."
You frowned. "Who's responsible?"
He thought about how to answer and that was when you knew he was lying. "Some local terrorist group. They want money for his return. A ransom."
"But it..." You looked down, your hands still shaking. "You said you would kill him yourself if they didn't."
"(Y/n), that wasn't what you thought-"
"-Then what was it?" Your mind was already on overdrive, assessing every little detail it could. "It sounded like you wanted him gone and you - you paid these... Terrorists to do the job for you."
He stopped and faced you fully, the murderous look back on his face. "Is that what you think?"
"You're the reason he's missing!"
You regretted the outburst immediately because Obadiah lunged at you, his arm pressed on your throat and holding you against the wall.
"And who's going to believe you? It's the word of Tony's mistake against his best friend. Who do you think the media will flock to?"
In the fight for air, your anger and desperation was getting the better of you. "You can't do this!"
He tightened his grip, making you whimper. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you. If you don't do what I say, I'll sell you off. You won't be able to walk out of these doors fast enough to save your life."
When you started turning purple, he stepped back. You collapsed to the ground, coughing and choking on the air you tried to get back.
"You can't do this." You gasped out.
He looked down at you, not a hint of sympathy in his voice. "You won't tell anyone. You won't go to the police, or Ms. Potts. Or Rhodes. You will shut up and go home or I will find a way to get rid of you."
-
You crashed through the front doors of your home breathless and paranoid. You'd run most of the way back, looking over your shoulder every ten seconds thanks to Obadiah and his threats.
You couldn't think straight and all but threw your bag across the room to run your hands through your hair. You couldn't understand why he'd pay people to have your father killed. In fact, you struggled to understand why you cared so much.
He was your dad, yes, but you hated him most days. He was always in his workshop blasting music and talking to anyone but you. He would promise to be there for your birthdays and yet somehow he'd missed almost every single one. You spoke to JARVIS more than your actual family.
"Miss Stark, your pulse rate is at 120 BPM and climbing. Would you like me to call someone?" The mentioned AI said.
You inhaled sharply, scared to death by the sudden voice.
"No!" You exclaimed, glancing at the front doors. "N-No, I'm fine. Thank you, JARVIS."
You put a hand over your heart and glanced around. You were alone because Pepper was at the office. But you were still scared. Petrified, even.
Obadiah had promised to kill you. And, by the sounds of it, he was more than ready to make good on that. If you told Pepper, Rhodey, or Happy about that, they'd be in danger too. Sure, they might be able to help, but you couldn't take that chance. They raised you better than your own parent and you would never forgive yourself if anything happened to them.
The only sane thing you could think of was running. You were sixteen. You were terrified. Nothing else made sense at that moment.
You ran upstairs, grabbing the biggest duffel bag you owned and throwing necessities inside. You didn't know how much time had passed, but it was near sunset by the time you finished packing.
Perhaps the only good thing about being Tony Stark's daughter was that you were somewhat smart. You used this knowledge to wipe the house footage so no one would know you'd taken off. Well, no one but your dad.
You had faith he'd get out of whatever situation he was in so, when he did, you left a gift and a note for him.
The gift was a pendant. You placed it on the table next to the note.
Dad,
I don't know when you'll come back, but I know you will. I just do. Until then, I have to go. I can't say why, but I do.
I know it's not easy to raise a kid, especially when you're you. But just please don't look for me. Not that you'll try. But please. I'm sorry.
-(Y/n)