Unloved - (Fem Reader X Bucky Barnes)

Chapter 8 - Destoyed

I teleported to the hospital as I watched the news, I found myself Standing above Happy. Dad was staring off, He hadn't even noticed me.  There was a terrible accident...we didn't even know if Happy would wake up.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"Y/N?" He finally looks up. "They haven't told me much." I close my eyes and shake my head.

"Oh hello." I turn to see the nurse.

"Mind leaving that on?" Dad points to the TV.

"Sure."

"Sunday night's PBS 'Downtown Abbey'. That's his show, he thinks it's elegant. One more thing...make sure everyone wears their badges. He's a stickler for that sort of thing, plus my guys won't let anyone in without them."

I follow him out into the hall, his head snaps up as I hold his hand. We were flooded with reporters as soon as we got outside, "Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Our sources are telling us that this is another Mandarin attack. Anything else you can tell us?"

"Is that your daughter? When did she get home? Y/N how do you feel about the recent attack?"

As soon as we reach the car, another man comes up. "Hey, Mr. Stark! When is somebody gonna kill this guy? Just sayin'."

Dad turns to face the reporter. "Is that what you want? Here's a little Holiday greeting I've been wanting to send to the Mandarin. I just didn't know how to phrase it until now. My name is Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you. I know you're a coward, so I've decided." He removes his sunglasses and stares into the phone's camera. "That you just died, pal. I'm gonna come get the body. There's no politics here; it's just good old-fashioned revenge. There's no Pentagon; it's just you and me. And on the off-chance you're a man, here's my home address: 10-8-80, Malibu Point, 9-0-2-6-5. I'll leave the door unlocked. That's what you wanted, right?" He takes the phone and throws it at a wall. "Bill me." Dad opens my door and walks around to his side, as soon as I'm buckled up he drives off.

"First of all...who the hell is the Mandarin. And second of all....why the hell would you give out our address!" I yell.

"Terrorist." He says, not answering the last question. "Wanna help me investigate? Like old times?"

I smile, remember I would 'help' him with his work.

"Sure."

Dad made sure everything was locked up when we went Downstairs, we both were sitting up on a crate and looking down at the holograms. "I've compiled a Mandarin database for you, sir. Drawn from Shield, F.B.I., and C.I.A. intercepts. Initiating virtual crime scene reconstruction." Jarvis says.

"Okay, what do we got here? His name is an ancient Chinese war mantle, meaning 'adviser to the King'. South American insurgency tactics, talks like a Baptist preacher. There's lots of pageantry going on here...lots of theater." Dad pushes the virtual information down to close. "Close."

Dad hops down as a hologram of the crime scene pops up, "The heat from the blast was in excess of 3000 degrees Celsius. Any subjects within 12.5 yards were vaporized instantly."

"No bomb parts found in a three mile radius of the Chinese theater?" I ask.

"No, ma'am."

"Talk to me, Happy." Dad whispers. He stares at happy then looks the other way. "When is a bomb not a bomb?" Dad picks up the virtual image of the dog tags to investigate them further. "Any military victims?"

"Not according to public records, sir."

"Bring up the thermogenic signatures again, factor in three thousand degrees." Dad says, hopping back up next to me,