𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒, 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓.
Charlie is on the road to recovery, and things are starting to look brighter. After Ultron, and the devastating discovery that Bucky and Becca Barnes are on the run to avoid them- sneaky...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 she walked into the tower. The conversation with Mrs. Spencer echoed in her head, making her feel like every step she took weighed a hundred pounds.
Your fault.
He's dead, and I blame you.
Judging by Tony's iron grip in her hand and the pale pallor of his face, his mind was torturing him even worse.
No, Charlie couldn't see things getting easier any time soon. Now, she just felt a bunch of pent-up energy- whether from anxiety or ADHD, she didn't know.
She let go of Tony's hand, wandering over to the window. She breathed deeply, bobbing up and down on her feet as she watched the tiny figures walk along the sidewalks on Manhattan.
"You eaten yet?" Tony asked. His voice sounded a bit shaky; he cleared his throat and feigned nonchalance. "I put a stick note on top of your Adderall."
Charlie shook her head, clenching her hands over and over again. She wanted to go outside and run a mile; she wanted to jump in her suit and fly a thousand miles above the city.
Tony pulled a loaf of bread out of the pantry, loosening his tie and rolling his neck, easing out the tension. He watched as Charlie bounced up and down on her toes, bobbing her head to nothing but the imaginary beat in her head, staring out the window like she was looking for something.
He raised an eyebrow. "Did you even take your meds this morning?"
Charlie's head snapped up, realizing what she was doing. She smiled sheepishly. "...Nope."
Tony nodded. "Cool. How, pray tell, did you manage to make it through the entire college assembly?"
"Coffee," Charlie said. "Pepper had an extra one and I bribed her with the promise of good behavior. I don't think I even need Adderall, Dad. Caffeine literally fixes everything."
"Tell that to the state-of-the-art psychiatrist whose been prescribing you since you were eight, kiddo," Tony shook his head.
Charlie pouted, eyes flickering around the kitchen until they settled on the sandwich Tony was making, where he was lathering an obscene amount of mayonnaise. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.
"Don't- don't put that much, what the fuck are you doing?"
"Making a fucking sandwich, what does it look like?"
"Dad."
"Spawn."
Charlie made a face. "I'm not your spawn, thank you."
Tony brandished his butter knife at her. "Then you shouldn't be complain about my sandwich- making skills."
"You're not making a fucking sandwich, you're drowning bread in mayo, Dad."
