Every family has demons, but none of them seem to scream as loudly as they do in the Stark family.
Tony Stark is known for many things; a father being one of them. Before he was Iron Man, before he was the CEO of Stark Industries, before he was...
in the great magnetic field where he traveled time for the future of mankind iron man ─── black sabbath
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
malibu, california may 25, 2010
"I'm so sorry, Miss Stark, but we won't be able to remove them," the doctor gives me a small head shake and a sympathetic expression.
"There's absolutely nothing you can do?" I ask in disbelief before I grow angry, "Are you serious?! Are you seriously telling me that I have to live the rest of my life like, like this?! Do you even understand what you're telling me?"
"Lisa," Dad says carefully.
I don't look over at him; my eyes are still drilling into the doctor's face. I'm so angry that I could just leap off of this bed and punch him in the nose. It's not the doctor's fault, I know, but that doesn't mean I don't want to punch someone still.
"Doc's right. What Frost did, the way he did it," Dad shakes his head, unable to completely finish his thought, "If we remove them, it'll, i-it'll kill you."
My eyes fall from the doctor's face and down to my hands and arms. The skin has been freshly sewn up, sealing up the last slices that Edgar wasn't able to finish stitching because Agent Coulson came in and killed him. It still hurts, but they've been pumping me with medication ever since they brought me in here last night. My fingers lightly brush the hot metal and then the burnt flesh lining it. White lit, round disks have been implanted into the palms of my hands and wires snake up the veins in my wrists, glowing underneath the flesh.
Edgar Frost.
The man of my nightmares.
The man in the morgue.
The man who put thrusters, just the ones in my father's suit, into my hands.
So, what does that make me?
"Hey," Dad lightly touches my face so that I look up at him.
He does have scrapes and bruises all over his face, but he won. He beat Obadiah. Just like I knew he would. And now Obie's down in the morgue as well. I blink the thought away. I don't ever want to think about that man again.
"It's gonna be okay, Smalls," he gives me a comforting smile.
