little piece of heaven (tony stark's daughter)

9

rosie's p.o.v

"how could you be so stupid?" dad seethes to nat.

we're back in bruce's lab, just the four of us. i'm back in my nest of blankets, curled up on dad who has his arms wrapped around me protectively. i'm still sniffling a bit but i've mostly calmed down. those words, though, those words have stuck. he said i'm a freak, i'm dangerous, and i'm not beautiful. i don't want to believe him, but a small part of me won't let it go. the harsh words circle my head, round and round and round and i just want it to stop but it won't.

"we needed information from loki, rosalie's abilities were our best bet" nat replies with a half-hearted glare but her eyes keep flickering to my tear-stained face.

i can feel dad tense at her words "she is ten years old, she isn't your puppet she's my kid" he growls "he destroyed her with a few sentences".

i curl myself into his body even further, i don't want him and nat to fight and i don't want to think about loki. "i'm fine" i mumble.

dad glares down at me "don't you start lying to me about this kind of thing. i rely on you talking to me".

"he's planning on using bruce"  i blatantly ignore my dad and watch awkwardly as mr banner stares "he's going to find a way to unleash the hulk".

"i can assure you, that won't happen" the scientist shifts uncomfortably alongside his feeble attempt to reassure me.

"i've already seen it" i state without emotion, tired of explaining myself to people that just don't get it. no one gets it, because no one's like me. i'm a freak.

"you saw wrong" bruce turns back to his work and i gulp back a new wave of tears. it's pathetic, just like loki said, i am pathetic.

"hey it's okay" dad soothes, rubbing my back when my breathing must have become heavier.

nat looks down at me, i think the look in her eyes is sadness or concern but i can't really be sure. she leaves the room silently,  and i'm surprised that dad lets her. usually he'd shout or insult someone after they've crossed him so i suppose this is a good thing. he only sighs and closes his eyes for a moment as if slightly in pain, then pulling me fully onto his lap so my head rests against his chest. "none of what he said was true, you know that right?" he asks, his voice suddenly soft but serious.

i don't verbally respond, because i'm scared that my voice will wobble or waver and i'm not prepared to sound stupid, so i just nod as well as i can whilst keeping close to him.

"good, because if anyone ever makes you doubt yourself i need to kill them immediately".

i half giggle, but i'm not entirely sure whether he's joking or not and so it's definitely a nervous-sounding laugh.

the silence that follows is suddenly interrupted by bruce "the gamma readings are definitely consistent with selvig's reports on the tesseract. but it's gonna take weeks to process".

"if we bypass their mainframe and direct a reroute to the homer cluster, we can clock this around six hundred teraflops" dad replies almost instantly.

bruce grins "all i brought was a toothbrush".

i laugh, forgetting the offence he caused earlier and dad smiles "you know, you should come by stark towers some time. top ten floors, all r and d, you'd love it, it's candy land".

i pull a face, as fascinating as technology is i'd much prefer chocolate so i wouldn't refer to it as a candy land. though bruce visiting might be cool, we don't really have many visitors anymore just in case i let slip and leave my antlers out or get angry and my wings expand. it's only really rhodey that comes to see us now, and occasionally auntie natasha.

"thanks, but the last time i was in new york i kind of broke.. harlem" bruce winces as he recalls the memory.

dad shakes his head "well, i promise a stress free environment. no tension. no surprises, just a munchkin". my eyes widen as i watch him grab some tool and prod mr banner who jumps.

"dad!" i scold him, sliding out of his lap and sitting in amongst the cushions.

he drops the object and shrugs innocently in response to my glare before staring back at bruce "nothing?".

"that is inappropriate" i hiss, turning to look at the innocent victim "i'm so sorry on his behalf".

it's at that moment that steve storms in "hey! are you nuts?".

"you really have got a lid on it haven't you? what's your secret? mellow jazz? bongo drums? huge bag of weed?" dad ignores the super soldier and carries on with his smart-arse quips.

steve grits his teeth "is everything a joke to you?".

"funny things are" dad responds with a proud smirk which i don't reciprocate. i don't think he notices or cares about the frown lines forming on my forehead or the sudden tension in my body. he's too busy with his precious ego.

"threatening the safety of everyone on this ship, including your daughter, isn't funny. no offence doctor" steve sends an apologetic glance towards bruce who waves it away.

"no its alright. i wouldn't have come aboard if i couldn't handle pointy things".

dad rolls his eyes "you're tiptoeing big man, you need to strut".

i don't really hear much else after that because the arguing fades into a continuous monotonous drone, blaring through my head and interrupting my vision. though my eyes are open i can't see anything except for blurred and merged colours which spiral into a mismatch of purple and brown. if pain was a colour, that's what it would be. i can't feel anything except my lungs fighting for air which won't comply and so i just sit there in silent pain.

"rosalie? rosalie can you breathe?" a shadow crouches in front of me accompanied by a concerned yet steady tone.

"what? roo? roos can you hear me?!" another voice which i identify as dad pushes through the barrier created by the noise echoing around my skull. i can hear him, but i can't respond.

"rosalie i need you to focus on my breathing and try and copy the pattern can you do that for me?" a hand touches my chest and rests there, i think it must be mr banner.

"rosie come on baby, breathe, please cubs" dad sounds more panicked than before and i want to curl up on his lap but i'm frozen.

"what's happening?" yet another voice joins in and i identify him as steve rogers.

"her breaths are shallow, heart rate is elevated, mr rogers go get a paramedic" bruce orders and i hear retreating footsteps.

a soothing hand starts to rub circles on my back but it fades into a numbness which begins to take over what's left of my vision.

"stay with us tiny, focus on my voice".

i want to, i do, but my eyelids pull themselves shut and my brain burns, it's so much easier to just let everything fade into the background and drift into the darkness.