Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mabel was officially done.
It was a Saturday. A Saturday.
And of course, she was out patrolling. 

Patrolling went fine, for once. Stopped a couple muggings, carjackings. helped an old lady with her shopping, and gave directions.
She was happy. 

She should have known. 

After patrol (yes, her backpack made it! Ned was right about sticking it with webs.) She was just regular old Mabel Parker again. Dyed blonde hair swinging in a braid, brown eyes now no longer hidden behind a mask. 

She grins to herself, enjoying the May sunshine. 

And as she walks down the street, as teenagers are so prone to do, texting back to Ned about their pre-planned “Lego Night”, something feels.. Off. 

she looks up as she enters one of those Becker Stores on the corner.
And, as per usual, she walks right into a robbery.
Parker Luck wins once again.
Mabel is more than ready to just curl up in her room and rot until Sunday. 

Cool steel meets her temple.
Can she survive a bullet to her head?
Probably not. 

She tenses, and then forcibly relaxes, trusting that familiar buzzing in her head. 

Breathe Mabel. 

The robber, whose face is covered by a ski mask (unoriginal much?), forces Mabel back. Back into the shop.
she doesn’t. 

A): Take Mabel’s bag off her.

B): Take Mabel’s phone-which she could use to call the cops. 

C): Have the gun cocked. 

Which means, she can’t pull the trigger and kill Mabel dead. It looks like an old single-action revolver. Not exactly the best weapon of choice for a robbery. But how would Mabel know?
She doesn’t rob people. She stops robberies . 

She raises her hands obediently though, scanning the store. 

Another robber (that sounds pathetic now Mabel thinks out loud, perhaps, burglar would suit better? Maybe way-ward soul? Criminal?)- Another criminal has a gun at the poor cashier.
Mabel sucks in a breath, counting.
Four children, ten adults, not including her.
Three people with guns though.
She wasn’t loving those odds. Not with children in the shop, even if they were wrapped in their parents arms. 

“On your knees.” Ski-Mask One says, nudging the back of Mabel’s head with the still un-cocked gun.
Mabel slowly sinks to one knee. 

“Knees, now! ”
Ski-Mask One’s hand is trembling. 

Mabel makes eye contact with one of the adults, who is holding a dialled phone, 911 on the line. Hidden, just about by her purse. She doesn’t look much older than Mabel. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Dyed pink edges. Someone who is interesting.
Interesting people rocked. 

Thank god. 

She breathes deeply.
The police are coming. she mentally thanks her with her eyes.
She glances at Ski-Mask One, and then looks away again. 

The cashier is shakily handing over money. Young kid. Probably the first few days on her job. Mabel sighs, internally debating. 

The metal is still pressed up against her head.
“KNEES KID.”
Ski-Mask One is really freaking out. Someone get this guy a cup of chamomile tea, and maybe the Great British Bake Off. That calms Mabel down, nine  times out of ten. 

(The other few times were when she was shot, so they don’t count). 

She drops to both knees.

She can hear sirens in the distance. Probably she first too. The police are on the line, how do they not know this is a hostage type situation? 

She grits her teeth.
And moves, grabbing the gun out of his  hand and hitting the guy in his solar plexus (thank you Captain Rodgers for those random YouTube videos).

She tackles the lead guy with the money, feeling her head, ache. Hot pain travels down her spine, but she's focused on the money the guy was clutching. There was a scramble on the ground, and Mabel moves. The guy hits her-hard in the solar plexus. 
But of course, Mabel can hit harder. 

A sharp crack, and the guy is clutching his nose as blood drips and the money is now in Mabel’s hands. 

Just as the police hurry in her door, guns up.

Oh, May is so going to kill her for this. 

She stands up, shakily, handing over her money to the cashier, who is pale as a ghost.
“You okay?” she asks sympathetically. 

The cashier says something in response, but he's muffled. Mabel sways a little, turning as loud, loud, loud noises hit her. 

Officer Morales hurries in-Miles’s Dad, of course.
“Mabel?”
Why is his voice so shaky? Mabel is fine. 

Mabel makes the mistake of looking down.
The floor seems very far away, and spiralling. 

Officer Morales checks her over, wincing at a bruise across Mabel’s face. Mabel feels herself listing forward.
Her healing factor is so going to fuck her over with this.

She lets out a silent prayer that it slows down.
Then  everything fades to a fuzzy black. 

***

It was May 2000, when one year-old Amelia Stark went missing.
It was impossible.

The little girl had for one minute been giggling on the Enscondido Beach, laughing up at Pepper and Tony, and the next, gone. 

Vanished into thin air. 

After the whole Iron Man debacle, he had realised it had been Obi, the whole time. Pulling the strings, taking his daughter, using her as leverage. 

Who knew where she was now, who she was.

She could even be with HYDRA, or SHIELD, for all he knew.

Amelia Stark had been on every watchlist, every television channel, everywhere. 

If she was to be found, that would have done it.
But his little girl was gone. 

Tony would never forget the first time they handed her to him. When those big, intelligent brown eyes, so like his own, but not hardened by the world, had met his.
And he had wondered how someone so perfect could be his daughter?
Being Amelia’s dad had mattered more than being Tony Stark. 

He stepped away from Howard, and everything that he stood for, because of his little girl.

It had been fifteen years, since she had gone missing. Fifteen years since her laughter had just stopped, and Tony had turned to the spot she had been-just a second, just a second ago, his heart stopping- and she had been gone. 

Part of him thinks his heart died that day.

Pepper sometimes feels the same, remembering their little girl. She hadn’t been Pepper’s by blood, but Pepper was who she had lisped Mama to. Pepper had held her and sung to her, and cradled her and loved her. 

Pepper had been her mom in all the ways that mattered.

And so, not to lose Pepper, not to lose Amelia’s mom, Tony had pulled himself back from the brink. Back from the never-ending self destruction.
He got drunk sparsely now. Three times a year. 

Christmas. Her birthday. The day she was gone.

That was it. 

It is May now. Amelia had been kidnapped fifteen years ago a week ago. No sign.
Some told him it was time to give up hope.

He kept JARVIS’s protocols looking for her in FRIDAY’s system. Just in case. 

He sighed as he looked over the New York horizon. Tony knew he had to go visit the compound this weekend. It’s not that he hated the whole routine of it all-but that’s exactly what it felt like-routine. Complacency.
He worried sometimes. Those nightmares of that void. Of nothing. 

He had looked into the void once when he lost Amelia. 

“Tony?” Happy had stuck his head onto the balcony, eyeing the way his boss was leaning over the glass railing.
Tony blinked at his foreHead of Security.
“Mhm?” He offered, trying to summon the tiniest bit of enthusiasm.
Nope. Nada. 

He pushed his sunglasses up his nose.
“It’s Captain America on the line,” Happy said, “He-he said there was a protocol going off at the Compound. Vision collapsed. They can’t turn it off.”
Tony held his breath for three seconds.

Don’t use expensive things in a place full of hooligans.
And out. 

“Of course they can’t. Tell Spangles I’ll be over in a second.”
He didn’t have his phone, did he?

He shrugged it off. The suit could take calls. He was having a few issues with some of FRIDAY’s protocols passing over, but it should be fine. 

A minute later, he was in the sky. Blissful air.
Away from the stress of a company, away from Happy’s worried eyes. 

Away from the feeling of failure.
“A suit of armour around the world.”
Would that have helped him find her?

***

He lands onto the Compound, seeing most of them outside, with their hands over their ears.
And wow, that is ringing.
He was definitely getting noise complaints from the neighbours after this. 

He nodded at Steve, and hurried in stepping out of the suit.
Walking to his lab, and heading for the source of the Protocol.
“FRIDAY?” he called.
The ringing paused.
“Hello Boss,” FRIDAY greeted him in her calming Irish lilt, “A protocol from my predecessor has been activated.”
Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Hit me, FRI.”
“The Protocol, MILK CARTON, has found a match, One Mabel Elizabeth Parker, currently unconscious at Mount Sinai Hospital. Subject is currently unconscious and major bruising due to being caught in a robbery in Queens. Expected to make a full recovery. She is a finger-print match to one, Amelia Maria Stark. They are withholding a DNA test until she is conscious to consent. Her guardian has been alerted. And so have you, boss. Multiple missed calls from one, Agent Stacey of the FBI.”

He had left his phone in his room. 

Tony fell to his knees, his breaths coming swiftly. 

One Mabel Elizabeth Parker. Queens. 

Matched Amelia. Mia. 

She was hurt. She was unconscious. 

His little girl. 

He blinked, feeling the tears stream down his face.
“Prep the suit, FRI,” he said.
The doors of his lab opened.

“One Mabel Elizabeth Parker?” A voice questioned.
Natasha.
Shit.

“Call Pepper too.” Tony put in, before standing. Not even a Russian spy was going to stop him from getting to his daughter.
Sixteen years too many he had gone without seeing her.
He was not wasting a second.
“Tell Pepper to head to Mount Sinai Hospital ASAP. Tell her it’s Mia.”
“Right away, Boss.”

“Tony?” Natasha questioned, folding her arms over a dark grey jumper, “What’s going on?”

“Alarm’s off.” He replied, then bolted for his suit.
For Amelia. 

Chapter Text

Mary Parker, neé Trask (distant relation of one Bolivar Trask), had married Richard Parker on September 4th, 1990. 

The two had been known for their scientific pursuits, particularly those regarding the human genome, and mutations that occur to it. Publicly, they investigated genetic diseases, such as Down Syndrome.
Privately, they investigated real mutations.
Then, ten years later, Mary and Richard were meeting with a benefactor of sorts. One Obidiah Stane. They left that meeting, and were seen heading to California.

They left California with their one year-old daughter, Mabel Elizabeth Parker. 

Who, as it just so happened, was the perfect age, and specimen for some.. Testing. 

Two years later, the Parkers died in a plane crash in the Philippines, and Mabel, who had been staying with her aunt and uncle, who had only recently learned of her existence, was informed that this was now her permanent residence. Everything changed. 

Mabel’s memories of her parents were few and in-between. So, Aunt May and Uncle Ben became her only family. 

When Mabel was fifteen, her uncle had died in a mugging, the weekend after a school field trip to Oscorp. 

Everything changed after that. Again. 

It was just her and Aunt May now. 

And for a while it was hard. Money grew tighter. She wanted change, change, change from the way things had been with Ben.
So she box dyed her hair one day with MJ, and found she liked the blonde. She started designing a suit, to hide her identity because she didn’t want anyone to go through what she had.
And of course, she got a massive crush on one Miles Morales, who was hopelessly oblivious like a golden retriever.

So life was slowly getting back to normal.
That is until she got shot and ended up in a hospital, where they would realise her blood wasn’t right, and send her off to the school. 

Not exactly what she wanted.
She liked New York. And Midtown was a private school (thank you scholarship). 

So when Mabel finally opened her eyes to find herself alone in a hospital room, the machines beeping with her heart rate, and the lights way too bright in her eyes, panic hit her like a truck.
Her heart rate started accelerating.
She reached for the IV line, for all those things they had in her skin. She needed them off. 

Her skin felt like it was on fire.
She could vaguely hear her shuddering breaths as she ripped them off, shaking hands and tears falling from her eyes.
She could hear the door opening vaguely, and blurry faces came into view. 

She could feel them gripping her arms, trying to slow her thrashing as she panicked, reaching for the lines that still connected her to machines. 

“It’s okay,” a soft voice whispered in her ear, and then something cool pricked her neck.
“It’s okay,” They repeated, “You’re safe, you’re okay.”
Mabel tried to force her eyes open, now realising they were doctors, and wanting to know why she was in a hospital. What had happened?
Where was May? 

But her eyes fluttered shut again, and she was dragged down into the darkness. 

***

Tony stared at the recording of his daughter, thrashing and panicked in her hospital room.
Pepper had met him at reception. The receptionist had been shaking as she saw them, and all the FBI circulating the premises. 

He had been demanding to go to his daughter, but was informed she was currently unconscious, and would not be seeing anyone until she woke up.
Then one Agent Stacey had met him, blonde hair cut neatly, clean suit.
Tony had stared at the agent through his sunglasses, and the desire to scream until shown his daughter, his little girl who he hadn’t seen in fifteen years, was nearly all consuming. 

But Pepper had laid a hand on his arm, and turned to the agent, her crystal blue eyes cool.
“Agent Stacey.”
“Ms Potts, Mr Stark. Right this way please.”

They had been shown a room, with a computer connected to her room.
Tony had all but bolted to it. He usually would have read all her records by now, but he wanted to hear it from his daughter.
His daughter.
Amelia.

She looked thinner. Taller. Older. Blonde hair, instead of the light brown he remembered. Brow furrowed, as if in pain.
They hadn’t taken any blood, or given any. She had passed out due to the shock of it all.
They thought that one of the robbers might have hit her in the head, potentially causing a concussion. Tony was staring at the bruising on her face. She had only been in the hospital for around thirty minutes. From her temple down to her jaw, on the right side of her face, was a large blue-purple bruise. 

He wanted to grab the person that hit her and rip them limb-from-limb. 

He didn’t. He sat, watched her eyes flicker open, wincing at the bright lights. The panic in the unfamiliar room.
He had stood, and been pushed back down.

Yelling commenced.

When he looked back at the monitor, she was asleep again.

“She is a little underweight,” Agent Stacey noted, “No other issues aside from that. She used to have asthma, but her lungs seemed to have matured from it.Same with short sightedness. Occurs over time, the corneas develop. ”
Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. Amelia hadn’t had asthma. And he was fairly sure it wasn’t something you grew out of. Eyesight issues too? 

“ She seems remarkably well adjusted, Mr Stark.”
“And those people who took her?” Pepper’s voice was cold. 

“Mary and Richard Parker. Died 2002. Later taken away by the Uncle, who had been no contact with his brother for over ten years. Uncle passed away last year. She’s living with one May Parker currently.” 

Tony clenched his jaw. It was too sterile here. Too bright, and sharp.
He stood, and all the agents tensed.
“Air.”
He directed this at Pepper.
He also used his watch to text Happy.

He needed to do an investigation of his own. 

“Mr Stark?” a voice called.
Tony turned, sighing, “Yes.”
He was too tired for this. He wanted to see his daughter, but had only been told all the reasons they were keeping him, her father, away. 

“I’m Officier Morales. Mabel-Amelia, that is. She’s close friends with my son, Miles. I just wanted to offer you my sympathies. And if any of us had known..” Officer Morales shook his head, “I’m so sorry, sir.” 

Tony nodded, “Thank you. Miles, your son, he knows her? Do you think you-?” 

He wanted to slap himself for the hopeful tone, but the Officer nodded eagerly, gesturing to one of the balconies. 

“We’ve known Mabel, Amelia for close to three years now? She’s whip-smart. Gets that from you, I suppose. A year ahead of her class. Loves the Robotics Club, Academic Decathlon, and a guitarist.Loves that thing. Her favourite classes are Chemistry and Physics, like Miles. 

.The two are partners in the Robotics Club. You should hear them talking about it. Can’t understand head or tail, but the excitement is real. Miles is really worried about her, actually. Asked me to talk to you, and..” Officer Morales took out his phone, “Thought you might want to see these.”

He didn’t hand the phone to Tony, but tilted it toward him. They were all photos of Amelia.
Her grinning with a boy, clearly Miles, the two holding a robot.
Cooking, baking with two other kids.
Laughing in most of them. Smiling. Happy. 

He could see when her hair changed, from the light brown to a blonde. Her smiles grew a bit tighter for a beat.
Miles and her started standing closer in photos.
They held medals from Academic Decathlon.

Selfies from Washington, D.C. 

Snippets of his daughter’s life over the past three years. 

There were a few of her with a middle-aged lady, clearly one May Parker. The two looked happy, grinning together.
Tony couldn’t stop the envy that rose in his throat.
They all got to see her, be a part of her life for years longer than he had. 

But he had found her now.

“Thank you” He said, to the Officier Morales, who nodded.
“She’s a big fan of yours, and Dr. Banners. They were talking about your latest paper in Smart Glass, and how you managed to transfer the data, or something.” 

His daughter was a fan. 

He nodded then, and hurried to her room. 

Room 301. Amelia was there.
He typed out a message to Pepper on his watch. 

***
“Mabel?”
“Mabel, can you hear me?” 

A nurse was standing over her, a light shining into her eyes. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, and she blinked up at them.
“Nod if you can hear me Mabel.”
She nodded, swallowing, her throat dry. 

“Okay, do you want to sit up?”
She nodded again, and sat up slowly, the pillows arranged behind her back, a glass of water in her shaky hands, cool down her throat. 

“Hi Mabel,” a soothing voice came. There was another lady in the room. Dressed in a pinstriped blazer and pencil skirt. Dark hair. Middle-aged maybe?
Mabel blinked at her, “Hello,” She croaked.

“Mabel, we just have a few questions for you, if that’s okay? I’m Lisa O’Brien, dear. ”
Ms O’Brien perched on the edge of her bed.

Oh no. 

They knew about her powers. She was so going to get shipped off to that school. 

“Firstly,” the lady continued, oblivious of Mabel’s internal panic, “What can you tell me about your parents?”
Wait, what?
“My p-parents?” She confirmed, and with the lady’s nod, relief hit, “Mary and Richard Parker. They died when I was  three, I think? I don’t remember them much, if at all. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise dear,” Ms O’Brien  smiled in that sympathetic way.
There was something they weren’t telling her. She could tell from the plastic smile.

“Next question, tell me about your aunt and uncle. May and Ben Parker, I believe?”
Oh no. Was this CPS? Were they going to take her away from May?

“Ben passed nearly seven months ago,” She whispered, “But they were great, are great, really. They-May supports me in everything. We have an apartment up in Queens. I miss Ben, obviously, he was my uncle, but May is fantastic.”

“That’s great, dear. I’m sorry about Ben.”
She  didn’t call him her uncle, like most people did. That was weird, but not unexpected. 

“Now, when was the last time Ben was in contact with Richard?”
They weren’t calling them any familial terms.
She could feel her eyes narrow.
“I don’t know,” She shrugged, “Before I was born. They were surprised to hear of me, but took me in with open arms none the less. They had been fighting over something. Something to do with Richard’s research, I guess?”
The lady nodded, writing notes on her spiral notebook.
Mabel felt like a specimen being examined. 

“YOU CAN'T BE HERE!” Voices yelled faintly from the hallway. Sounds of scuffling, and yelling continued.
Mabel forced herself not to react. If she could hear it, it was likely that the lady couldn’t.
“Where’s May?” She asked Ms O’Brien, “What’s going on?” 

Ms O’Brien smiled again, tighter this time, “Honey, there’s something we have to talk about first-”
“Where’s May?” Mabel repeated, “I can’t-I won’t talk to you until I see her. End of story.”
“Mabel,” Ms O’Brien tutted, “Honey, listen, when you were brought in, due to the nature of the crime, they took fingerprints. To alert your guardian. You had no identification on you, just regular procedure.”
Mabel nodded, raising a brow, “So what? My fingerprints aren’t in the system.”
“Yes they are dear,” Ms O’Brien sighed, “We wanted to wait to tell you this, but some people are impatient.”
Mabel noted the glare shot toward the door as the noises grew louder. 

“What’s going on?” She demanded, sitting fully upright now, “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Dear,” Ms O’Brien started.
“Stop calling me that!” Mabel protested, her voice raising, “Tell me what’s happening!”

“Your fingerprints were in the system because you were kidnapped when you were very young. Around one. You were kidnapped in Malibu, from your parents, and they have been looking for you for years.”

Kidnapped.
That’s not possible.
Mabel shook her head, “That’s not possible. I would have known. You’re wrong. You have to be wrong.”

“I’m afraid not,” Ms O’Brien truly did sound sorry, and Mabel looked up at her, “Your name isn’t Mabel Elizabeth Parker, your name is-”

She was cut off by the door being thrown open, and one Dr. Tony Stark bursting in. 

One, Iron Man, bursting in.
One, pioneer, bursting in.

Mabel’s second shock of the day shoved the kidnapping to the background of her mind as she stared at Dr.Stark from her hospital bed. She could hear the heart monitor beating quickly as her jaw dropped. 

“Dr. Stark?” She blurted.
Dr. Stark’s eyes turned to her, and grew misty. He was staring at her like she was fragile morning mist, liable to blow away in a strong breeze. Like he knew her.
Which wasn’t possible.

“Mr Stark!” Ms O’Brien had risen from the bottom of Mabel’s bed, “You aren’t allowed to be in here. Too many shocks to the system aren’t healthy! You know the protocol!”

“Dr.Stark,” Mabel corrected automatically, still staring at the Doctor in question, “He has six PHDs, you know. In various fields, including physics, engineering and artificial intelligence to name a few.”
Dr.Stark stared.
Ms O’Brien stared.
Mabel shut her mouth with an audible click. When she got nervous, she would word vomit. Blurt out information.
Like directly after she had been told she wasn’t a Parker.
A hysterical laugh built up in her throat. She forced it down. She was not making a fool of herself in front of one of her heroes. 

“That’s right,” Dr.Stark said, after a long pause, “A lot of people forget that.”
He seemed rather shell-shocked.
Wait.
Why was Dr.Stark even here?

Several FBI agents rushed into the room, swarming Dr.Stark. And her, by extension. She was so very lost right now. Her head was spinning.
If she wasn’t a Parker, who was she?

“Ms O’Brien!” She cried over the noise, raising her voice to seize the lady’s attention, “I believe you were in the middle of telling me something?”
Please finish what you were telling her.

Before she passes out again.
Not a Parker.

Not a Parker. 

Oh goodness.
What would happen to May? To her? Would she have to move to Malibu? She couldn’t be Ghost-Spider there! She’d have to leave MJ, and Ned, and Miles.

“You haven’t told her?” One of the FBI agents, a blonde, looked aghast.
“I was getting to it!” Ms O’Brien snapped.

But pieces were clicking together the longer Dr.Stark looked at her. The longer the FBI agents tried to herd him out of the room.
High-heels clicked on the floor. Someone else was coming.
Several footsteps accompanied them.
Several somones. 

Why would Tony Stark be here.. Unless?
“Oh my god,” She said, slumping into her pillows. 

“Mabel,” Ms O”Brien said, hurrying to her side, “As I was saying, dear, I know this is a lot. But we do have to tell you. You aren’t Mabel Parker. You are one Amelia Stark.”

Mabel’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she passed out for the third time that day.

Chapter Text

“Mr Stark,” the anxious CPS worker started, wringing her hands.
It made Tony uncomfortable when she wrung her hands like that. It was so aggressive, and yet at the same time, passive.
“We think it’s better for Amelia to be placed in a transition place. We understand your..concerns about your daughter. But considering her head trauma, and the staunch disagreement for blood testing, we think it's best she’s placed with a neutral party. Someone she knows.”
Tony clenched his fist. His knuckles went white. He wasn’t allowed to bring Amelia home. He had to.. Let her do this for herself because that was his little girl and he would do this for her. 

“Who do you suggest?” He forced himself to unclench his jaw as Pepper spoke, a pillar of calm beside him.
“The Leeds, or the Morales family. They know her, their children know her. At a push, Agent Stacey’s family. They have a daughter a year older.”
Tony nodded. 

Pepper hummed, “We don’t want to impose on anyone. Agent Stacey, what do you think?”
Agent Stacey stood from his chair in the corner of one of the many conference rooms in the hospital.
“She would benefit from a familiar face, but our home is near the tower. And Gwen was the one who called the police in the first place. She might be a good influence on Amelia.”
“With Agent Stacey it is then,” Pepper decided, glancing at him.
Tony didn’t want to give his approval on this. He wanted to bring his daughter home, wanted to hold her and hug her and tell her he loved her.
But his daughter didn’t know him. He had to think of her best interests.. Despite everything. 

Tony sighed. 

“Fine.”

***

Hospital rooms are boring.
Have you ever noticed that all hospitals smell the same? Except for her insanely fancy room, it was still a hospital. 

They were only doing all this for her because they thought she was Tony Stark’s daughter. She got more information out of bothering the nurses and pretending to cry about her “kidnapping”-they hadn’t taken blood yet, as she was over sixteen and needed her or her guardian’s consent. Then, they didn’t tell her what was happening to May. Didn’t let her get her phone either.

The relief that she didn’t have her suit was immense, since she was pretty sure they were going through everything in her bag.
Thank goodness for Ned, MJ and Miles’s paranoia, and codes. At the time, she thought they were all overreacting. 

She didn’t think they were overreacting anymore.

It just was awful to be in a room by herself. The nervousness that they would realise, her metabolism, or something would be wrong, wrong, wrong...

She took deep, even, breaths. 

Everything will be fine-hopefully.
As long as no bald guy in a floating wheelchair came by, life was great.
Or as long as no stretchy guy came by-its not like she wasn’t a fan of Dr.Richards, but so was not mentally ready to deal with all that.

She wanted to go home. Their home, the apartment in Queens. May’s bad cooking, her own room, her own bed, her stuff, her lego, her gear, her guitar-secondhand, but much beloved. 

Home.
What if they were already going through it all? Where had she put her suit-What if..?

It was at Ned’s house-he had offered to wash it when she got a nosebleed. 

She was one step ahead of Parker Luck! 

She would cheer, but she could see the nurses peering at her from the corridor. 

Mabel sighed, tilting her head up to the ceiling, the sterile white paint staring back at her. If it was anyone else, they would probably be discharged already. But “Tony Stark’s” daughter, they couldn’t let her go-.
She bit her lip, it was fair. Deep down, she knew it was. Except-she didn’t feel like Dr.Stark’s daughter. She loved the Parkers.
But she also knew that if her kid got kidnapped, and then she found them again in a hospital, found them hurt-. 

She would probably go mental. 

“Excuse me, Ms Stark?”
Mabel clenched her jaw at the unfamiliar, wrongness of that. 

She turned her head to the very anxious looking nurse, who was standing on the precipice of the room. 

“Yes?” she forced out, raising her eyebrows and trying to not look like she was insane. The nurse paled.
Worth a shot, anyway 

“There-um, there is a young man, he would like to speak with you. Briefly. With your consent.”
The nurse whispered the end of that sentence, before turning to her right, where Mabel supposed was where the “young man” was. 

“Fine.”
She turned toward the window then, looking out at the bright lights of New York. It had been sixteen hours since she had been taken to hospital. Sixteen hours since her life had flipped. 

She was still in shock. No one would let her see May. 

Mabel was so worried about her. May hadn’t known, couldn’t have known, neither could Ben. They just couldn’t have. 

“Hey  ‘Belle.”
Her head snapped up.
Miles awkwardly stood by the doorway, baggy jeans, Jordans, black hoodie. He was fidgeting with a bag on his shoulder. 

She felt awkward in the hospital gown. 

“Miles.”
He walked in then, smiling at her. 

Normally she would be internally freaking out because, yes that was her close friend, Miles, but also, it was Miles. He was smart, funny, and sometimes a little shy, but confident in his beliefs. She would be grinning about the fact he just called her beautiful in French. 

He was the only one who called her “Belle” now. Since her uncle had died. 

But it wasn’t normal. Nothing about this was normal. 

Her name wasn’t even Mabel. 

“How are you feeling?”

Miles sat down to her right, brown eyes earnest and worried. She just stared at him, from the pillows. 

“How do you think I’m feeling?” she snapped back, and Miles recoiled a little.
“No, I’m sorry,” She offers, sighing, ‘This is just all, a lot. You know? I don’t know how to feel.”

Miles nodded, reaching for her hand, “I get that. It is a lot. Plus, you’ve been stuck here basically on your own. It’s enough to drive you crazy. Everyone’s worried about you. And I’m pretty sure all the nurses are terrified. But no one has asked you how you’re doing. You can be mad.” He stops, rubbing circles on her palm, “ Amelia Stark though. Knew you were a genius.”
She smiles a little at that, shifting her leg, “Please, we all know you’re the smart one.”
“Lies.”
“How’s May?”
“My dad went to see her,” Miles shrugs, “They’re interrogating her, and going through the apartment. Looks like she didn’t know anything about it. The FBI are going nuts though.”
He bits his lip, thinking, before continuing, “Your-Dr.Stark asked my dad about you. Dad showed him pictures and stuff. Said his face lit up seeing you. They must care an awful lot about you ‘Belle, to do all that.”
She purses her lips, “I just-my life was finally getting into a rhythm, you know? I knew what I wanted, and it’s- Ben could have known, and he lied to me my whole life. Plus Dr.Stark is my father. And he looks at me like,” She shakes her head, “I’m not who he thinks I am.”
“Mabel,” Miles breathes deeply, “You may be against the guy because of the whole “Merchant of Death" thing, but you’ve idolised his technology for years. And you might even get to meet Dr. Bruce Banner, or maybe tell Captain America the US is actually a dictatorial state and the President has too much power, and that naming yourself after it while trying to be a hero for all is very much, um-.”
Mabel squeezed his hand, “You want me to insult Captain America. Got it.”
“Mabel, Tony Stark has been looking for you for fifteen years. I hate to be the voice of reason, but maybe give him a chance? He’s the one who let me come visit you. He said he didn’t want you to be alone.”
Mabel picked at her nails, “Miles,” she whispered, looking down at her hands, calloused from climbing and guitar, labours of love.
“Yes?”
“I’m scared.”

Miles hugged her then, briefly, “Aren’t we all? But the best things in life come from pushing through the fear. Besides, you’re Mabel, and Amelia. You’re stronger than anyone I know.”
A tear slipped from one eye as she hugged him back “When did you get so wise?”
Miles puffed out his chest, “Always have been.”

“Right, “ she said, drawing out the syllables, “So falling into the dumpster was the choice of a student of wisdom?”
“Yoda himself couldn’t have done better.”
They laughed quietly then. 

Just for a moment, the worries about being found out as the Spider of New York, and May, eased. Not gone. But better. 

***

Chapter Text

Mabel was sitting on the twin bed in the corner of Gwen Stacey’s room. Gwen had been the girl from the robbery a day ago, with the bright pink streaks. 

Small world. 

She was staring at a crack in the ceiling that looked like a spider. She felt her phone buzz against her leg.  It was probably Ned. She hadn’t texted any of them in a day.

Mabel pursed her lips, thinking. She probably should let them know-let them know she isn’t Mabel anymore.

Amelia Stark.

She peered into the mirror that was hung at a slight slant on the wall. Her hair, loose around her shoulders. Straight leg, well-worn jeans. Grey cropped-turtleneck Gwen had loaned her, since the apartment was still off limits. And this sage green hoodie that made her look sea-sick. 
She looked nothing like the perfect, polished daughter of a multi-billionaire. 

A hysterical giggle burst from her mouth, and she clamped a pillow over her face. 

How could she be worrying about Ned, worrying about school, when her entire life had just been flipped on its axis!
May was being detained somewhere for a crime she didn’t do, and Dr.Anthony Stark was her father. 

She laughed and laughed, muffling everything into the pillow. 

“..You okay there?”
Gwen’s face peered at her from the door, staring at Mabel who was lying on her stomach with her face in a pillow. 

“My life makes no sense.”
“Sounds about right,” Gwen turned out the door, “She’s fine Dad!”
Then the older girl shut the door and whacked Mabel’s- Amelia’s- legs. 

“Shove over.”
Mabel moved her legs. 

“You play any instruments?”
Mabel raised an eyebrow, “Guitar.”
“Nice. Drums, personally.”
Mabel flopped back onto her stomach, “Can I be alone please?”
“And let you continue your hysterical laughter? Dad was freaking out in the kitchen. He shooed me in. You should see his face.”
Mabel hummed. 

“So…” Gwen trailed off, “Want to play? Or we can talk about something else. The Daily Bugle maybe? J.Jonah Jameson’s latest “article” on the “masked menace” that is Spider-Girl. Spider-Woman? Ghost-Spider?”
“Ghost-Spider, apparently. She can vanish.”

Gwen twirled her hair around her index finger, eyeing the pink streaks, “Cool. Dad doesn’t think so. Says vigilantes are “outdated” and “enhanced individuals are dangerous”. She seems nice. So.. guitar?”
“Guitar.”

***

Mabel fidgeted with the guitar Gwen had thrust into her hands. They were in a music class. Gwen had said something about booking it out for band practice, but her band wasn't coming for around thirty minutes or so. 

She tightened the tuning pegs, strumming lightly. 

There.

She let out a sigh, eyeing the tuned guitar, “I don’t know what to play.”
“Play what you know.”
“Not helpful.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, “Sorry, didn’t realise that I was supposed to be helpful.”
“You know,” Mabel kept her eyes on the guitar, plucking it idly, “When I first saw you in the store, I thought “she’s interesting.” Then when you rang the police, I thought “she’s cool.”
I take it all back.”
Gwen mock-gasped, “You’re rather comfortable with me after meeting me two hours ago.”
Mabel shrugged, “I’ve turned over a new leaf, it’s called “trying not to break down and hyperventilate”, especially since I can’t leave the house alone, or go see anyone I know. So you, unfortunately, are now my only companionship. Feel honored.”

“The honor is miniscule. Rather like you in that regard.”
“I’m 5”7.” 

“I said what I said.”
“Taller than you are.” 

“Lies and propaganda.”

Mabel leaned her head against the chair, placing her fingers in the frets, making chords.
“Play,” Gwen waved her hands at her, pulling at her phone, “Break down on the guitar instead of me please.”

Mabel contemplated for a minute flipping her off. Then remembered May and Ben teaching her manners when she was little.
“Always say please and thank you. It shows respect, Bel.”

She turned away, letting her curtain of bleached hair hide Gwen’s face.
It wasn’t Gwen’s fault. She was just taking out her frustration, her worry, her anxieties on her.
Maybe she should just play.
Focus on that instead of everything else. 

“So you place you fingers here, that’s it Bel! Then you strum with you other hand. Ready on three? One.. two… three!”
Ben’s voice floated through her mind, familiar and comforting.
She let herself play. 

***
Tony paced.

He was meeting with the woman-May Parker- today. Then CPS, to ensure the tower was safe for Amelia.
Safe for Amelia.

He gritted his teeth. He was Amelia’s father. Amelia was the victim here. He just wanted to bring her home. Make sure she was safe. 

The confirmation of the paternity test was still swimming around his screen. It had taken years. And it had taken a lot of convincing of nurses to get Amelia to give them a hair sample. He worried what the Parkers had done to her. Had told her, made her believe that she couldn't trust them. She was still adamant on the blood test. She wouldn't let them touch it. 

Had they experimented on her? Tortured her? Manipulated her, brainwashed her? Turned her into a weapon like Barnes. 

Scenarios, scenarios he knew weren't true spun in his head. He clenched and unclenched his fists. His breathing grew louder in the silent lab. Different from every other day. But it wasn't every other day you found your daughter. 

He heard footsteps, and slowed his pacing, moving for the window. He could see Rhodey walking toward him, reflected in the tinted glass panes. 

“When’s the last time you slept?”
“Not now, Honey Bear.”

Rhodey waltzed into the lab, waving to DUM-E. 

“Don’t “Honey Bear” me. You ditched the compound all in a hurry. Then seal yourself up here. Pepper called me all panicked. Sit down. Away from the coffee machine,Tony.” 

Tony glared at him for a moment.

Then he sighed, slumping into one of the chairs scattered about the lab, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“Well…” Rhode sat down across from him, holding a pastry bag like it was a volatile explosive.
“I found her.”
“Found who? A shrink? Been telling you that you needed one since MIT.”
“Firstly, screw you Platypus. And no. Her. Mia. Amelia.”
“ Mia?” Rhodey jumped to his feet, “You found her! Does she remember me? Is she here? When? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t get the chance to ask, and you’d be the last thing I’d be asking about. Look around Platypus. If my long-lost daughter was here, would I be in here?”
Rhodey paused, giving him a long stare. 

“Don’t.”
“You are terrible with feelings. Either you’d be pacing outside the kid’s door, or you’d be in here building her a state-of-the-art.. That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?”

Tony brushed a paper over the StarkPhone for Amelia. With eight trackers. Ever since.. 

Maybe he should make it nine. No harm. 

“Tones,” Rhodey sighed, “Have you even talked to my niece?”
“Briefly.”
“And..?”
“She goes in for her bit for the investigation today. Smart kid. Better than I was at that age.”
“You were in MIT.”
“Kinder, than.”

Rhodey sighed, “Get up, get breakfast and,” He made a face, “Shower. Long, hot shower. Don’t be scaring Amelia off. And bring your freaky phone gift.”

Tony made a face at him, but stared down at his grease-stained hands.

Maybe a shower wasn’t the worst idea. 

***

Mabel shifted on the cold steel chair. She was in one of those interrogation rooms she had only ever seen in movies. 

Steel table, water glass, chair. Missing the handcuffs though. 

And of course, the mirror that she was currently facing. 

She blew a strand of hair out of her face, wondering who was watching her behind the glass. 

Probably her father. 

Father. 

Crazy. 

The door opened, and she heard arguing.
“I should still get to meet her! She’s my kid!”

The door swung shut behind-. 

“Officer Morales?”
Relief was like a truck, and she immediately slumped in the chair. 

“How are you keeping Mabel?”
She gave Miles’s dad a tight smile, “I’m fine, I guess.”
She fidgeted with one of the strings of her hoodie, “Have you seen May? Is she okay?”
“May Parker is fine. She is currently in the custody of the FBI as part of an ongoing investigation.”
Officier Morales smiled a little, “She’s doing fine. She asked me to let you know that.”
Mabel nodded, gnawing her lips, “How-how is this going to go?”
She tried to avoid looking into the mirror, but kept glancing at it anyway.
Who was watching them?

“I’m just going to ask you a few questions Mabel,” Jeff Morales’s voice was familiar and soothing, “Just answer them as best as you can.” 

***

Tony watched as his kid answered question after question, shyly. 

She seemed to relax once she saw an officier she recognised, even though Officier Morales wasn’t with the FBI, it had been a decision to send in a familiar face. A trusted face. 

Amelia spoke about her earliest memories featuring the beach. 

She very vaguely remembered the shimmering blue waters of Malibu. 

And then her life with the Parkers. Mostly fuzzy. She said, aside from the waters, the earliest thing she could remember was classical music, and then May and Ben.

Obidiah had probably paid them to take her, was what Tony had been told at least ten times in the last two minutes. 

But still.
Amelia had been three when the Parkers died in a myterious plane crash.
The thing that was bothering Tony, was that his kid never had a mint allergy, or asthma. Or needed glasses.
And it was odd that she no longer seemed to need an inhaler, or glasses. Especially considering it was supposed to be terrible.
Wouldn’t she be unable to take down a criminal?

Something was off. 

Tony grinded his teeth, ignoring the look Rhodey sent his way.
The Parkers had done something. He wasn’t sure as to what..yet. 

But he’d find out. 

***

Mabel was exhausted.
Mr Morales had said that was everything they needed for now. That she would be brought back in as the investigation continued. 

Mabel had nodded in a near-daze. 

She had been brought out of the room then, into another, that was occupied by six, currently arguing, adults. 

Four of which, she knew.
Dr.Anthony Stark, Ms Virigina Potts, Mr James Rhodes-War Machine, and Agent Stacey. 

She stopped in the doorway, jaw dropping as she took it all in.

They were arguing with some guy who was wearing an eye-patch. 

A wanna-be pirate, perhaps? 

And a lady, with red hair. She looked vaguely familiar. Had Mabel seen her somewhere before..?

“Stark!” Eye-patch said, gesturing widely, “This is serious. A TRASK. You didn’t think that we would need to know about this?”
Dr.Stark frowned, “I think, Nick, you need to mind your own goddamn business.”
She couldn’t help the little gasp that had escaped her from hearing the name Trask though.

All six adults turned. 

Ms Potts made a choking noise. Mr Rhodes gasped.
Eye-patch frowned. 

Mabel blinked, “Sorry. Wrong room.”
She turned and bolted.
Right into a tall man wearing a suit. 

“Sorry, sorry.” She muttered, trying to move out of his way, catching sight of a badge labelled “Hogan. Security.”

The man-Hogan?- glanced down at her, then his eyes widened in recognition. 

“Amelia?” 

“Mabel, actually.” She blurted, before she could stop herself, “You have the wrong person. Happens to us all. No need to be embarrassed. Take care now!”
She made to run again. 

“Ms Stark!”
That was Agent Stacey.
He was very insistent on calling her either Amelia or Ms Stark, even when she had told him her name. 

She froze, turning to face the FBI agent. 

Dr.Stark stood next to him, Ms Potts-still staring at her-on his right.
“I truly am sorry about interrupting.” She blurted, “was looking for the..bathroom?”

“Amelia?” Ms Potts sounded as if she was trying not to cry.
Mabel felt terrible, watching the CEO of the leading tech company in the world tear up. 

She waved, a little awkwardly.
Tried to force a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. 

“Hi.”
Ms Potts burst into tears. 

Chapter Text

Mabel shifted uncomfortably on the chair facing the Pirate- as she had dubbed the man with the eyepatch. 

He was still staring at her.
She felt the bandage scratch against her leg a little more. 

“So..” She twisted her hair around her finger, “I-um, I don’t think I’m supposed to be in here. Agent Stacey is probably looking for me, and I shouldn’t, keep him waiting?”
It came out like a question and she immediately wanted to bury her face in her hands. 

This was a disaster. 

Dr. Stark and Miss Potts were holding hands so tightly their knuckles were white. 

The red-haired lady- she looked so familiar- was pacing in the corner.  

And.. Hogan?
Hogan was standing by the door in the pose from Men in Black- hands clasped behind his back, face blank.
His eyes kept flicking to her though. 

Pirate didn’t say anything. 

She cleared her throat, “Does anyone else think it’s weird that Captain America claims to be a hero for the world but just named himself after America? Which you know, has a lot  of nuclear weapons, plus our military budget is far bigger than our education and healthcare budget which is…” She paused, slapping herself internally, “Um, bad.”

Um, bad?
UM, BAD? 

Mabel Parker you are an idiot. Except she wasn’t Mabel Parker.
Oh, she had a headache just thinking about it.
The red-haired woman snickered, then looked a little surprised at herself.
Miss Potts blinked a little. 

Dr.Stark looked proud, and a little bit confused. 

“Sorry,” She whispered, “It was just so, so quiet.”

“Ms Stark!” Mrs O’Brien came running in, and Mabel took back everything bad thing she had thought about her.
“You’re not supposed to be here!”
Nevermind. 

She stood, wiping her hands on those jeans that were just a bit too big, “Yeah, okay.”
Mrs O’Brien frowned at Dr.Stark. 

Mabel moved for the door, and then stopped.
Mrs O’Brien made a clucking noise with her throat, “Come on, dear.”
“Can-” She turned to see Dr.Stark, “Can I see May? May Parker? She’s my aunt- I mean, she’s not my aunt, but she practically raised me, and I know, I know, she didn’t know. Please. Please.”
She could feel the tears she had been suppressing over the last few days come to her eyes, and she wiped them hastily. 

Goodness Mabel. Could she be any more pathetic?
May was in a police station and she was crying because she hadn’t seen her.

Dr.Stark looked affronted, and so torn apart to see her cry. He stood, buttoning his blazer. 

“I’ll-” he cleared his throat, “I’ll see what I can do, kid.” 

She didn’t mean to walk over and hug him, but relief was like a truck hitting her, and she would know from her time as Spider-Girl. Ghost-Spider. Whatever. 

“T-thank you,” She whispered, and his arms came around her shakily. She breathed in the smell of motor oil and coffee. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, forcing herself to not think of Ben, of May. Of all the hugs she’s had and all the hugs she’d given. 

She breathed deeply, and then stood back.
Dr.Stark’s arms tightened when she moved, and then immediately let go. 

She nodded again, bobbing her head a little anxiously, and then followed Mrs O’Brien out of the room. 

***
Tony could still feel the ghost of his daughter in his arms.
“Fast track the paperwork,” He snapped to his lawyer, Mr Williams on the phone.
“I want to bring my daughter home as soon as possible.”
“CPS thinks it’s best to slowly ease her into the new environment…” Mr Williams protested.
“She’ll be a target the minute people hear of it. I’m not risking that. NDAs can only keep people silent for so long. Send the people around to check out the tower. Arrange the meetings, whatever it takes. Amelia needs- I need Amelia to be safe.” 

***
Four Days Later. 

Mabel sighed into the phone.
“I know it’s a lot Ned. I can hardly believe it.”
Ned, MJ and Miles peered back at her through the screen. She knew she looked a disaster. Dark bags beneath her eyes, pale skin from a lack of sleep. 

She still hadn’t seen May. Or seen Dr.Stark since the brief..encounter four days ago. And yet, today she was moving into Avenger’s Tower.
Or was it Stark Tower again?

Was her father a narcissist? Or was it deep trauma from his father Howard Stark that makes him desperate to surpass him. 

Focus. 

“We’re here for you,” Ned’s face filled the screen, “And I’ve been taking notes and the homework for when you get back to school!” 

If she goes back to school. 

Knowing rich billionaires, she could be shipped off to some fancy boarding school.
Of course, given the fact that Dr.Stark had been looking for her for fifteen years, probably not. 

Maybe just another private school in New York then. 

She forced a smile and ended the call, staring at the boxes and suitcase that had been sent over from her room. 

Plus the unopened letter stacked on top, and the package it was taped to. 

She sighed. She didn’t want to do this. 

She wanted to leap from the roof of the building and swing around the city like she hadn’t been able to do in days.
Days. 

She had seen Instagram posts of people actually hunting for Ghost-Spider, Spider-Girl now. 

She really needed to pick a name and stick with it.
Spider-Girl had been it first.
Then when she’d vanished during a fight- camouflaged, really- and re-appeared, Ghost-Spider had blown up. 

Shaking, she lifted up the letter, and hoped, that maybe it was a letter saying all of this was a mistake. That she was actually a Parker, May was free and she was going home. 

She cracked the seal, and slid out the note. 

This is your stuff-from your apartment you shared with May Parker. 

Made sure they didn’t go through it kid, just the essentials.
Pepper says she’ll take you shopping, and steal my Black Anex while she’s at it.
Considering I owe you around fifteen years of presents and birthday gifts, I hope you break the bank.

I got you a five minute conversation with May Parker, next Tuesday. Supervised. They are relatively sure she didn’t do it, though. 

Hope you like the gift Trouble

Password is 100810

-Tony

She noticed he didn’t write her name once.
“Trouble”.

She faintly remembered a male voice calling her that. She had always thought it was Dad-Thought it was Richard.

She tore open the package, and saw a StarkPhone inside. 

10/08. 

That was Mabel Parker’s birthday. 

She didn’t actually know when Amelia Stark’s birthday was- but she knew she was older than-

She was younger than she had thought. 

She cleared her throat, tapping in the password.
The phone was sleek, new, and expensive.
Everything she was not.
She missed swinging through New York more than she could admit. 

There were five contacts on the phone. 

-Ms Potts. 

-Tony

-Hogan

-Someone called Rhodey

-And FRIDAY. 

All caps.
Weird name. 

She fished out her old phone, battered from the amount of times she had dropped it. She was pretty sure she could drop the new phone from Stark Tower and not make a dent. 

She tapped in Miles, MJs, Neds, Mays, Officier Morales, and everyone else’s contacts in.
She hesitated when signing into her social media.

Could Dr.Stark read this?
See this?
She closed the new phone, sliding it into her pocket just as Hogan walked in.
He didn’t look at her this time, just went and picked up the boxes.
“I can do those!” She said, getting to her feet.
Hogan glanced at her. 

She could feel his eyes on the messy ponytail, the worn grey jumper, leggings, old trainers. 

She folded her arms defensively over her chest, and picked up a box and a suitcase. 

“It’s my job.” Hogan said flatly. 

“It’s my stuff.”
He stared at her for a minute.
“Fine.”
He picked up the other three boxes, and she cringed internally as he walked out without a second glance.
Well done Mabel. 

You made the Head of Security hate you already.

***
Happy was shaken. 

She had looked just like her father in that moment.
He could hear her her footsteps behind him, as she managed the box and the suitcase easily. 

She seemed as stubborn as Tony was 

Slight frown, arms crossed.
Same stance. Same eyes. Same frown. 

She looked eerily like Maria Stark as well. 

Amelia thumped down the stairs eyes widening at the sight of the car. 

“That’s your car?”
Happy nodded, forcing himself not to stare. Did she remember him at all? He had built her sandcastles, pushed her stroller, made her apple sauce. 

Of course, she had been one. 

So probably not. 

She made a face at it, “It’s so.. Eye-catching.”
He huffed a laugh at that despite himself.

She was polite. 

Not like Tony. 

“It’s Rolls-”
“Rolls-Royce Phantom,” Amelia interrupted, eyeing the car, “With gold tyre spokes. I’m presuming you didn’t buy those.”

He took back the polite statement.
She looked apologetic, “Sorry. I-um, I word vomit, when I’m nervous. It’s like rambling? I guess. I’m not really sure. Just, when I know something, or it's quiet, or I feel like I’ve offended someone? I really-um, I really don’t want to offend you, Mr Hogan. Really, I promise. I- I’m usually much more polite than this, and-”
“Happy.”

She stopped, “You feel happy?”
“No, my name, kid. Happy.”
She nodded, opening her mouth to say something, and then shutting it abruptly. 

Amelia followed him to the boot, blonde hair swishing behind her. He could see dark roots at the bottom of it. 

“Dyed your hair.”
“I like it.”
“Suits you.”
She slid her meager boxes in, and part of Happy felt like tearing up at the sight.
This much stuff was the minimum Tony had carted around on day trips with his little girl. 

It shouldn’t be everything she needed.

Amelia caught his gaze, and shuffled on the pavement.
“Miss Potts- that is, Dr.Stark says she wants to take me shopping. So, um. Yeah.”
Happy nodded, and then turned and opened the backseat door for her.
“Can’t I sit shotgun?”
“No.”
“Okay.”

***
@tonystarkslefteyebrow

guys , did i just see happy hogan opening the door of his car for sm teen in nyc?? 

View Image

@iwoulddieforblackwidow

What??? Who is that?? @feelingaster ding her for us!!

@spiderwatch 

Local Queens Hero, Ghost-Spider, still not back on regular patrol! Contact us at 1-212-1234567 or our website: spiderwatchnyc.com to drop Ghost-Spider's location!

@username0098

Coming back to @tonystarkslefteyebrow Who is she?? Intern or smt? New hero? Nyc y does the best stuff happen to you?

@americasass

Wait a min. Didn’t stark have a kid. Girl too???

@flashthompson009

Nah that’s sm weirdo from my school @mabelelelparker not a stark at all. Legit the opposite. 

@feelingaster      

ya, she only shows up on like school instas, robotics comps., and like smart people things. 

acadecchampions     midtownhigh  robotics2025winners

Check out the links. She’s pretty cute ngl :/

@mabelparkerismynewpersonality 

Waiitttt her hair??? Is no one else intrigued??? @tonystark who is she??        

@tobeastarkintern

@tonystark , this ur kid??                  

@theguyinthechair                  

That’s just mabel lol. She’s just nice to everyone-literal ray of sunshine

@mileshatesbeingontime

Ya, mabel is just a sweetheart. Plus hogan prob. Knows her from queens?? She’s pretty smart. In midtown high for science and tech. 

@iwoulddieforghost-spidernoquestionsasked

Nahhhh she’s got to be stark’s kid. put  their eyes in a colour picker and turned out the same. plus check out that face?? She looks like Maria Stark y’all are delusional. 

@ghost-spiderfan

So much effort. Ew. also who says :y’all??

***

Tony stared at the shit storm that was his twitter feed. 

Almost every comment was tagging him.
Amelia.

How?
He had been so careful. 

He checked the trackers on them both, Amelia’s phone now connected with her face and thumbprint, ever since she opened it. 

They were nearly here. 

He thrummed his fingers nervously on the countertop, giving the penthouse a once-over. 

He had sent Nat to the Compound, making sure she kept all the Avengers away, at least for now.
Especially Rodgers.

Plus he had blocked them. And Fury. 

Asshole. 

Please let Happy take the back entrance. 

He checked his phone. 

@mabelparkershareurhairroutine

everyone!! hogan just pulled into stark tower carpark! location confirmed!! she’s GOT to be stark’s kid. @tonystark tell us all!! 

Well shit.              

Chapter Text

Mabel fidgeted as Happy- that sounded weird, pulled her stuff out of the car.
It stood out aggressively against the pristine “Stark Tower”, and that was before they were even in the building.
People would take one look at her, and realise she didn’t belong either.
She chewed her lip, breaking the skin of it, blood filling her mouth. It tasted like iron.

This was terrifying.
Her phone buzzed against her leg.

The Penguins of Madagascar 

Kowalski

Why did we let Ned pick the names? Why is Mabel Skipper?

Private 

It was my turn MJ  it’s not my fault you picked the pac-man ghosts for urs. 

Rico 

Y ru the dumb one? 

Mabel smirked as she read through their texts. Of course Ned had made her Skipper. She sighed, typing back.

Skipper 

I miss being blinky 

Private 

shush rich girl 

Skipper 

rude

Kowalski 

Mabs have u checked ur insta or twitter recently

Rico 

isn’t it called x now

Kowalski

Still mourning larry 

Skipper 

No y 

Kowalski 

Check. 

Mabel’s spider-sense prickled, and was the only thing that stopped her from jumping when Happy suddenly spoke. 

“You ready to move?” 

Mabel turned to him, forcing a tight smile, “Yep.”
Happy walked to the elevator a bit to the left of the central one.
“FRIDAY?”
Mabel frowned, “It’s Wednesday.”

A feminine voice with an Irish lilt suddenly came from the speakers, “Welcome back Mr Hogan. To the Penthouse?”
Happy nodded, and the elevator doors smoothly slid open.
“Boss is waiting for you in the kitchen. You and Miss Stark, that is.”
Mabel flinched, turning to Happy, taking one of the small boxes out of his hands, “Who is that?”
“FRIDAY.”
She frowned.
“Mr Stark’s AI.”

Tony Stark had an AI? Didn’t he blow up Sokavia with one? And create the Vision?
“How much free time does this guy have?” she muttered.
Happy sighed, “Very little. It’s just a pity his job is to do this.”

The long-suffering sigh answered all questions Mabel had on what exactly this was.
Her phone buzzed again. 

Kowalski 

Mabs. 

She rolled her eyes, but opened Twitter, than saw the messages tagging her. 

#tonystarksdaughter 

#tonystarksnewhero

#newstarkintern 

She blinked, clicking into threads, fuzzy pictures of her greeting her. People, dissecting her entire life. 

She scrolled, eyes widening.

@wishiwascapsshield

So we r all in agreement then? Smt to stark anyway. My money’s on genius intern. 

@flashthompson 

Please. Mabel parker is not smart enough for stark

She squeezed her phone tighter, loosening when she heard the metal groan a little.
Crap. She didn’t mean to do that.
She turned to Happy, who raised an eyebrow at her, “Let me guess, Twitter?”
She turned away, staring at her beaten trainers. She didn’t belong. She definitely wasn’t smart enough to be Stark’s kid. And they’d realise that, along with the whole Spider-Girl thing, and she’d be packed off to the school of Mutants. 

She picked at her nails. 

“Ignore them. Twitter is a cesspool of haters and trolls. Tony is-he’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him, knowing you’re here.”
She glanced at Happy. He looked.. Sincere.
“Thanks.” She muttered.

“Of course, kid.”
The numbers on the elevator kept climbing. 

***
Ned, Miles and MJ were crowded around Miles’s phone.
Mabel was everywhere. The one thing she really hated was attention, and ever since the bite.. Bright lights and loud noises too suddenly would not be great.
“Do we tell her?” Ned asked, worrying at the zipper of his hoodie.
MJ bit her lip, “Texted her to check her Twitter and Instagram. Maybe it’s not too bad?”
Miles brought up another thread talking about how pretty she was in silence.
MJ snickered, “Tick tock lover boy. You better get to her before Johnny Storm does.” 

Miles blushed, and coughed loudly, before his phone buzzed angrily in his hand, he leaned against the back of the couch, swiping into his Twitter. Because, usually the four of them can’t fit on the couch in Ned’s house, so they all sit on the rug in front of it. Even though Mabel wasn’t here, old habits died hard. 

“Guys.”

They both leaned over again. 

@spiderwatch 

So far, our local Queens hero, Spider-Girl has been missing for 5 days! We are currently theorising on where our beloved arachnid could be, and if she’s 

1. Sick 
2. Working a case
3. Possible new avenger?

Call us at 1-212-12567492 if you have any sightings of our hero, or any theories! Vote on our polls at this link here. 

Ned groaned.
“I don’t think Mabel realises how obsessed people are with her. On both sides of the mask.”
MJ coughed loudly, “And once this whole Stark thing gets out.”
They all shuddered.

“There isn’t anything really we can do,” Miles sighed, rubbing a hand down his face, “Mabel will be… busy the next few days anyway. Plus we have her suit, so she can’t get out that way. Speaking of.. Did you manage to get the blood out?”

Ned nodded, hurrying to his room. MJ waited until he left to make a face at the half-finished black spherical shape on the coffee table.
“Is that supposed to be the Death Star?”
Miles shrugged, “They’re trying to make it without the instructions. Or the Lego.”
MJ rolled her eyes, “Of course they are.”
Miles nudged her, “Don’t try to act cool with me Jones. I’ve seen you watching the Clone Wars when you think no one’s watching!”
MJ scowled at him, “Ahsoka rocks. So does Padme Amidala. She has actual personality in it. And the whole storyline that Kenobi dies is amazing. So hush Morales.”
Miles huffed a strained laugh at that.

MJ frowned at all the photos scattered along Ned’s shelves while they waited.
“Don’t you find it.. Weird?”
“That’s she’s a Stark?”
“No,” MJ glanced at the window, picking at her nail, before turning back to him, “Amelia Stark was kidnapped when she was one, right? And Mabel says Richard and Mary died when she was three. So she moved in with May and Ben then. But there’s no toddler photos of her. The earliest photo they have is around ten years old. Ned says he remembers her moving to his middle school. She doesn’t talk about elementary or kindergarten. She doesn’t have any artwork or anything. When we tell childhood stories, hers are always when she’s eleven or older. Isn’t that.. A bit off?”
Miles frowned tapping his fingers while he thought, “But where would she have been?”
MJ shook her head, curly hair flying around her face, “I don’t know. But what if she didn’t go to Richard and Mary? Or she did, but only temporarily.”
“Wouldn’t May and Ben have said something?”
MJ meets that question with a dead stare, “Finding out Mabs is  a Stark changes a lot, Morales.” 

Miles nodded slowly.

He wanted to believe that May and Ben Parker would never do anything like that. They were good, kind people. His dad and Ben had worked on the police force together.
Miles froze.
“Shit. When I met Mabel, it was high school, we were thirteen. Dad seemed almost.. Surprised to meet her. She just shrugged and said Ben’s private. Likes to keep his family life, just that, for family.”

MJ's eyes widened a little, “Do you think Mabel knows?”
Miles shook his head, “She’s not conscious about it, I don’t think. She’s too normal. Ned would have noticed. I would have noticed. You definitely would have noticed.”
“She’s a vigilante that roams the streets of Queens. Haven’t you noticed she’s a little too good. Her suit is too good. Web-shooters. Fighting style. For someone who was bit when she was fourteen, she became good at it right away. And powers can only do so much.”

Miles bit his lip, “So either she’s lying to us, or she has no idea.”
MJ looked away, “Neither of those sound good.”

“GUYS!” They both jumped guiltily as Ned hurried in, holding a school bag.
“I got it all, I think.’

He carefully unwrapped the suit. Mabel’s suit. It was a deep pearlescent white on the forearms and collarbone, with crimson red web accents, the spider included, iridescent black-blue or midnight violet for the bodywork and main center of the suit, reflective elements that glowed faintly in low light, that Mabel had figured out how to activate and deactivate with a chemical compound she kept in her web shooters. Nerd.
Cute. 

But still a nerd. She had been grinning for a week straight after. 

Miles glanced down at the carefully pressed bottom of the suit, including the shoes. 

Sleek split-sole ballet flats were usually laced around the ankles. She had bought them at a second-hand store and had become emotionally attached-enough so to refurbish, re-paint and wear as part of her suit; they even had webbed soles and black webs spray painted in-courtsey of Miles. Crimson ribbon laces wrap around ankles like pointe shoes. 

She had wanted a white hood- “I’m not going out there looking bald Ned! It’s this or a ponytail!”-and Miles wanted to laugh just at the sight of it. The mask is seamless. Cold. Empty. Web pattern fades in from the temples like stylized tattoos

A sleek spider emblem crossed across her face, the insignia giving a nod to her name. Red, outlined in subtle dark blue and white linework,the legs of the spider motif stretch subtly over the shoulders and around the ribcage

The blood stain that had dripped from the mask down the white material of the front of the suit when she had slammed into a brick wall was gone. Smooth, clean fabric peered back at them.
“Nice job, Ned.” Miles forced out, shoving down the feelings of mistrust and betrayal.
They didn’t know.

Innocent until proven guilty. 

..Right?

Skipper 

guys - WHAT IS HAPPENING? 

Ned laughed as he typed back. MJ and Miles exchanged a long look, nodding in agreement to keep quiet. For now. 

Private

Blame flash. 

Skipper 

Why is it always FLASH? Dr.Stark looks all guilty- i swear to god if flash makes dr.stark cry im going to web him onto the statue of liberty

Kowalski 

Coward- make it the empire state building. 

Skipper 

Dream on. Not giving the bugle anything else jones. 

Skipper

Crap! Gtg, i’m getting looks from everyone now. Will update later. 

Private

WAIT-EVERYONE?! Are you meeting the AVengers? Mabel? MAbel? 

Kowalski 

suffer. 

***

Pepper watched from her phone as Happy walked out of the car, toward the elevator-their elevator, a blonde teenage girl trailing after him, holding a box, anxiety and worry crossing over her face.
That was Amelia. 

The little girl she had carried and cared for. Cared for as if she was her own daughter.
The little girl who had made Tony laugh and smile again. The one who had made him put down the bottle. Of course, until she vanished, and the bottle was the only thing left to pick up. 

She sighed, turning off the live-feed on her phone as she entered the living room-bar, the balcony looking over New York. 

Pepper walked over to Tony, who was thrumming his fingers on the countertop as he paced anxiously. 

“Maybe we should re-do her entire room? Renovate entirely? Maybe I’ll give her a whole floor-a whole floor? Buy her.. Netflix? Owe her so many presents.. Lab?”
He mumbled away to himself, and Pepper laughed internally as she only heard segments of his on-going internal monologue.

The CPS agent cleared their throat politely.
“Mr Stark?”
Tony turned, his blazer unbuttoned over an ACDC t-shirt and jeans.
“She’s outside now. Are you ready?” 

Tony nodded, his face drawn. 

The doors slid open.
And Natasha walked in. 

Pepper sighed.

So much for a happy family reunion. 

***
“Natasha?” Tony blurted, anger and worry crossing over his face as he walked over to the Russian spy, “What are you doing here?”
Natasha calmly folded her arms over her dark brown puffer vest and the thick white wool jumper she wore under.
She looked nothing like The Black Widow. 

Just a red-head in New York, out for a walk in lime-washed jeans and a thick jumper. 

But exactly the wrong person that should be here when Amelia was arriving.
Any minute now.
Tony glanced at his watch, then at the CPS worker, the young man staring at Natasha Romanov, his jaw dropped.
So much for help.

Natasha blinked calmly at Tony, before turning to Pepper, “Ms Potts, a pleasure.”
Pepper nodded silently, eyeing the elevator.
The doors Natasha had entered remained open, and Pepper could see the numbers ticking up.
Natasha needed to move. 

“Not the time,” Tony snapped, “For whatever it is. I’m busy.”
Natasha nodded, smiling, her teeth shining white against the soft pink lipstick, “Is it bad that I am also interested in meeting your daughter?”
Tony and Pepper shared a look. They had insisted that Amelia wasn’t to meet anyone, or become involved. At least until she was settled. Pepper doubted they could keep a teenager from meeting the Avengers, but Tony was stubborn.

The elevator numbers kept rising.
Pepper stepped forward, “Would you be amenable to meeting her at a later time? We are very worried about her settling in well.”
She gave Natasha a tight smile.
That was CEO-speak for “Get the hell out-or I will throw you out.”
Tony looked like he was ready to throw Natasha out right now.
Natasha smiled, “Just here to help, Ms Potts. Think of me as your aide.”
Tony sighed, “Fury?”
“Fury.”
“Bastard.”
“Language.”

The elevator doors slid open, and Pepper watched, as Happy and Amelia- little Amelia- walked in. 

“FRIDAY runs the Tower,” Happy was saying, his head tilted toward the girl beside him, who was carrying one of the boxes and rolling a suitcase alongside her.
She was taller than Pepper remembered, even though she had seen her a few days ago. 

Blonde hair,but dark brown roots were beginning to peak through. Pepper could see the corners of her bright hazel eyes, which were looking up at Happy. 

Being slightly underweight had been on her medical file. Pepper felt the anxiety rise up in her gut, and the longing to hug Amelia returned.
The girl nodded along as Happy continued, the two unseeing of the audience they had acquired. 

“So she’s his AI, that manages basically everything?” Amelia asked, and her voice was smooth, New-York tinged, and seeping with curiosity, “This might be rude, but isn’t that a recipe for disaster, considering what happened with Ultron?”
Happy nodded, “Not rude, good question. You should ask Tony about that one, he knows more than I do. Don’t think I didn’t see you tapping questions into your notes app about the place. He’d love to answer them.”
The teen looked awkwardly down at her feet, “I don’t know-not today. Up ahead here?”
Happy nodded, tilting his head toward the door to let her go in first.

Amelia’s eyes looked up and met Pepper’s, Tony’s and then Natasha’s.
Her eyes widened as she recognised the red-head.
“Why’d you stop?”
Pepper tried to hide her shock about how relaxed Happy was with her, and it had only been thirty minutes. 

Miracle worker.

Happy saw Natasha then, and his eyes narrowed.
Amelia swallowed. Hard. 

Pepper winced internally.
The CPS agent cleared his throat again, “Tour, Mr Stark? Ms Potts?”
Tony nodded slowly, glaring at Natasha before turning to Amelia and holding his hands out for the box. “I can take that, if you want?”
Amelia looked at him for a beat, before nodding slowly, gently handing it over.
Pepper wanted to cry at the lack of stuff, thinking of all the baby stuff that was in storage. All the years of clothes that had been carefully bought, pressed, and packed away.
She blinked hard, as Tony had grinned at Amelia excitedly before gesturing around the place.

The tour.
Right.
Natasha gave her a quick once-over, and then nodded, her attention on Amelia. Her eyes narrowed slightly, before her face smoothed over, becoming neutral.
Pepper winced.
This was going to be a long day. 

***
Mabel’s jaw dropped as Tony led her around the two-storey penthouse. The two-storey penthouse on top of Stark Tower, not including a lab, and an entire section that was dedicated to various projects and offices the two had.
“We can get you your own space too,” Tony was saying, gesturing to the lab off-handedly, “A walk-in-closet, or a lab- robotics or science,or a studio for making music, maybe renovate the movie theatre?”
Mabel felt faint.
There was a movie theatre?
“Is there a gym?” She asked quietly, peering at Tony’s lab with wide eyes, noting the robots that lay scattered around the place, and the Iron Man suit in the back.
It was like if science, coffee and spite had smushed themselves together to form her dream room.
Tony nodded, “Here, and at the Compound. You have full access, of course. Anything in particular?” 

She shrugged, “I like swimming. And gymnastics. Maybe ballet?” 

Tony smiled, “Ballet? Let me guess, Sugar Plum Fairy?”
She waved her hand so-so, “I would love to be able to do La Esmeralda, but mostly I just enjoy the positions. They’re calming. The patterns, the familiarity..” She trailed off, “Um, yeah.”
Tony gestured again, “Want to keep moving?”
She nodded, internally slapping herself for that word vomit. 

Embarrassing. 

***
“So this is my room, and Pepper’s,” Tony rushed, hurrying to the end of the corridor, and the door on the right, which may or may not be the safest room in the entire tower, except for maybe the Bunker.
And that’s because Pepper pointed out Amelia might like windows.
Amelia nodded, trailing after him.
Happy had already visited it, dropping off most of the boxes, including the one Tony had been carrying. Amelia still had her suitcase, though, her grip on it tight.
He eyed that worridely. 

She was so nervous, and it made his heart-hurt. That was his daughter, and she was scared of screwing up.
“So.. what’s in there?” She asked, nodding at the door. Tony blinked, re-focusing and smiling at her.
He wanted to hug her, but she seemed curled in on herself.
There had been a few moments, especially when he had shown her the lab, the questions she had asked regarding FRIDAY, and the thing about ballet. 

He didn’t remember reading ballet lessons in her file.
Maybe she had learned from a babysitter or something. 

“This,” Tony began, “Is your room.”
The door slid open, revealing a room with floor to ceiling windows of New York, with tinted external panes. There was a bed on a raised platform, king-size, done in soft looking blue sheets, and a white comforter. It had a floor to ceiling book case on one wall, with a few shelves already full, of movies and of books. A door leading to a decent sized walk-in-closet, and another door to her ensuite, with a bath, and a waterfall shower, and a vanity of course. Pepper had insisted. 

There was a desk at another corner, a pastel blue office chair there, carefully outfitted with materials, for school and potential projects.
There was a guitar hook and amp, beanbags, curtains that would close around the bed.

The room was mostly blue and white. 

He hadn’t known what her favourite colour was. And that had taken him to the kitchen where he had leant his head on the cool glass overlooking the city and stared at the lights for a long moment.
He turned back to Amelia, whose jaw had dropped.
“This.. this is for me?”
He nodded, heart in his mouth. Please let her like it. 

“It’s-wow. It’s amazing,” She stepped in cautiously, “But it’s too much. Seriously. Don’t be going out of your way-I’d be happy anywhere.”
Tony laughed. An actual, genuine laugh.
“Kid, we wanted to do this. It’s for you. I’m not going to give this to Capsicle.”
She snickered at that, and a grin spread across her face, white teeth glinting, a dimple in her left cheek.
She had a crooked smile.
Like him.

“Blue’s my favourite colour. And red.”
Tony’s heart so full, so light it could lift him up and into the clouds.
Blue was her favourite colour. 

“Maybe we should let Ms Stark-” The CPS worker started, and Tony noted the flinch that came from his daughter at that, “-settle in while you show me the rest of the penthouse?”

Pepper and Natasha made murmuring acquiescences, and Tony caught Pepper’s eyes, which were shining.
“She likes it,” He mouthed. 

“I know.” She mouthed back.

Amelia nodded, “Sounds good.”

Tony nodded too then, and stood in the room for a moment, just staring at his daughter. Who was real. Who was really standing in front of him right now.
Amelia was home. 

He reached a hand out, hesitantly, and ruffled her hair.
She laughed, and seemed to absent-mindedly swat his hand away.
“We’re so happy you’re home, kid.”

Chapter Text

Mabel walked over to the massive bed in the centre of the room, and cautiously sat down.
It was so.. Soft. 

She sighed, flopping back against it.
This felt so wrong. Everything about this was making hairs on the back of her neck stand up. No spidey sense though. 

She breathed in deeply, the scent of vanilla floating through the air.

“I should probably check the rest of this place out,” She whispered into the massive room. That had been decorated for her. 

Oh God. 

It was breathtakingly perfect, and she felt as out of place as-as- a lug wrench in a kitchen. Mabel turned on the shower, dipping her hand into the instantly perfect temperature.
“I hope this temperature is amenable to you, Miss Stark,” FRIDAY’s voice echoed.. From somewhere. Even with her advanced senses, she couldn’t tell where, and for some reason, it set her on edge.
“It’s perfect, thanks,” She responded awkwardly, “Um, are you watching me shower?”
“Of course not. I merely monitor the heat signals in the room. Ever since the Tesseract Issue of 2012, it has been implemented into my program to do so. Would you like me to turn this off?”
Mabel mouthed “Tesseract Issue,” -then straightened, “Yeah-please.”
“Right away.”

Then there was a beat of silence, and she slumped against the cool tiles opposite the shower. She instantly felt better knowing no one was watching, and she tilted her head to the right, peering out at the tinted city lights. 

They couldn’t see her. But man, was it a view. 

She got changed, carefully folding stuff up, placing them on a shelf. 

She then untied her hair, and stepped under the shower, letting the hot water batter her back.
And then she turned it up a little.
AIs couldn’t get everything right. It slammed hot and hard into her shoulders, tracing old scars and too thin shoulders.
Mabel tilted her neck, soaking her hair.
This.
This was lovely. 

Then she turned up the water, drowning out her thoughts. 

***

Tony finishes showing the CPS worker around, as they jot down things in their notebook. He probably could bribe them off, making them say it's good-but he won’t. He’s Tony Stark, for goodness sake.
And he loves that girl in that room so much. It’s his daughter. He wants the best for her. 

That does not include a Russian spy who invited herself.
Finally, finally, finally, the CPS worker leaves, telling them they’ll hear back in the morning. Pepper nods, still smiling and welcoming, and then-at last- they’re gone. 

“What is this about?” Tony snapped at Natasha, eyes narrow, “I know you Nat, you don’t do things for Fury with no good reason.”
Natasha just cleared her throat, “Little ears.”
“She’s in her room.”
“Still. Compound. Tomorrow. I’ll fill you in then. Fury’s just being-Fury.”
“Not tomorrow. Unlike you, I have things to do. Friday.”
“Fine.”
Natasha straightened her spine, and Tony could see years of Red Room training in that subtle movement. 

“Until Friday, then,” She turned to Pepper, “It was a pleasure, Ms Potts.”
Pepper nodded graciously, “All mine, I’m sure.”
Tony translated it in his head-”Get out, now.”

Natasha stalked from the room, each stride even, and cool.
Pepper smoothed down her white dress pants, and turned to Tony, “What do you want to do for dinner?”
Tony paled, “Oh shit.”
“Little ears!”
“She’s sixteen!”

***
MJ stretched her arms over her head, sighing, “Do we have to watch Star Trek?”
Miles shakes his head at her, gesturing at the TV, “This one has William Shatner, and Patrick Stewart. A cinematic masterpiece.”
“Not you too.”

Ned beamed, “Mabel texted!” Then his face fell, “Hold up. Why am I the only one without an ‘M’ in my name?”
Miles and MJ ignored him. 

Skipper (Mabel)

Does anyone know what natasha romanoff looks like?

Kowalski  (MJ)

Red haired, badass, able to destroy men’s egos with but a glance?

Private (Ned)

Red haired?

Rico (Miles)

Why?

Skipper (Mabel)

Does she work fr Peprr Potts 

Kowalski (MJ)

*for Pepper Potts

Skipper (Mabel)

actually yk what die

Kowalski (MJ)

I will for proper grammar

Private (Ned)

We’re watching Star Trek btw

Skipper (Mabel)

greaaaaat- i have awkward dinner with Pops

Rico (Miles)

Pops? Srsly

Skipper (Mabel)

Im *processing*

Kowalski (MJ)

You were bothered to get stars but not an apostrophe 

Skipper  (Mabel)

Oops-gtg 

MJ and Miles shared a look as Ned frowned at his screen, “Does she seem.. Off to you guys?”
Miles shrugged, “She’s under a lot of pressure, Ned.”
Ned was silent for a beat, “Right.” He glanced between the two, “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there.”

MJ was silent.
Miles looked desperately at the movie.
Ned raised his hands, “Fine. Don’t tell me. But Mabs will figure it out, you know. Whatever it is.”
The two exchanged a look. 

That’s what we’re afraid of. 

***

1977 

Bolivar Trask tapped his pen impatiently in his office. Waiting. He hated waiting. He was not lesser than these people who had petitioned him for a mere moment of his time.
Finally, the wooden doors swung open. A stocky pale man walked in. Grey-brown hair, thinning. He had a lightly shaved stubble on his cheeks. Dark framed glasses, eyes hidden behind the tinted lenses. Expensive navy suit. Leather loafers. A single gold ring on his pinky finger.
Bolivar eyed it distastefully. He didn’t deal with the mob. His science, his work, was to help humans. Establish their place of dominance over those filthy, disgusting, mutants. 

The man sat down. And then Bolivar caught sight of the woman by his side. She was blandly beautiful, of course, to accompany an old man of clear wealth, she had to be. Pale as well. Dark hair, dyed perhaps to attempt that shade of darkness?
Bolivar eyed it, contemplative. 

Sharp brown eyes, discordant to the rest of her appearance. Oh, she tried to play the part of the bimbo, the tight dress, expensive coat, heels. Jewellery.
But the eyes. The eyes were windows to ones soul. 

She was no bimbo, no background character. 

“Would you like a chair for your.. Associate?”
The man glanced at the woman through his dark glasses, “Marina.”
“Marina, then. A chair?”
Bolivar gestured toward one of his assistants, still holding the door open. It swung shut behind them, and then opened again a moment later, a simple chair in hand.
It was placed down by the desk. Nice and even. Marina sat down. The only name he was gifted so far.
The assistant left the room. Silence was restored. Sunlight gently drifted through the floor to ceiling windows. Bolivar straightened in his chair, smoothing down his blazer.
“I believe you both know who I am, so no need for me to introduce myself.”
He looked at them both, steadily. Even counts of three for each hard stare. 

“My name,” the man began, “Is Alexander.”
Fake.
Both fake names.
And a slight russian inflection on the ‘r’. 

“Alexander” gestured to “Marina”, “You have already met the beautiful Marina, she-”
“Enough.” Bolivar adjusted his glasses, “My country and yours are in the midst of a Cold War, “Alexander”, and yet you still wish to engage my services. Therefore, what it must be about is more important than mere relations between countries. You have engaged my interest, but also my ire. Speak fast, and speak honestly.”
Alexander laughed. A rich, throaty sound.
“Very good, Mister Trask. Very good.” The Russian accent returned in full force, no more slight cover-ups.
Bolivar relaxed slightly in his chair, raising a brow.
The man removed his sunglasses, and harsh, cold, brown eyes stared into Bolviar’s own. 

“This is Melina. My chief scientist, along with other roles.” With the introduction, Melina straighted, uncrossed her legs and assumed her natural posture. Straight-spine, proud chin. Finally matching those eyes. 

“And you are..?”
Bolivar waited once more.
“I am Alekesi. We are part of the international company R.R, and we believe we may share one, if not multiple goals. But first I must ask, how committed are you to accomplishing your goals?”
Bolivar’s grip on his pen tightened, “Very.”
“Good, good.” Alekesi straightened again, “And remind me.. How much do you hate Howard Stark?”
Bolviar raised a brow, “Is that even a question?”

Alekesi smiled, teeth eerily white. 

“Not anymore, comrade.”
Bolivar sniffed, “Do not call me that derogatory word.”
Alekesi nodded, “We will accomplish great things, you and I, Mister Trask.”
Bolivar tilted his head, “I am well on my way. What makes you think you shall be a part of it?”
Alekesi’s smile just widened.

***
2016

Mabel crept out of the shower, skin red from the heat, the softest, fluffiest robe she had ever felt around her. She was carrying her clothes with her, and then paused, glancing at the closet.
“They probably haven’t put anything in here yet,” She murmured, but grabbed her suitcase and opened the door.
She was wrong.
Simple, neutral clothes were there. Not enough for say, a fancy dinner, or a date (not that she had anyone asking her out on any). But enough for day-to-day, or for the gym.
She dumped her stuff in the corner, and grabbed a navy jumper, running her fingers along the smooth material. It felt amazing. Fresh, and new.
She pulled it off the hanger, and grabbed a few other things, the bare necessities, leggings, fluffy socks. 

She yanked on the clothes, pulling her wet hair out of the way. She braided it messily behind her, before her metabolism decided to remind her she hadn’t eaten enough for it in four days.
She pursed her lips.
Mabel wasn’t exactly anxious for another conversation with Dr.Stark, but she couldn’t hide in the beautiful bedroom for long.

She stared at the door. The door stared back.
Mabel gnawed her lip for a moment, then grabbed her phone, flopping onto the incredibly soft bed. 

“Can I live in this thing?” She murmured.
The beds she’d slept in before hadn’t been hard per say, but this level of comfort was practically unheard of. 

She hummed a little to herself as she texted the guys. Something about MJ’s messages felt off, but that was probably because she couldn’t see the brunette herself. 

She flopped onto her back.
How long would she be stuck at this tower for?
No one knew who she was.. Yet.
But she was missing school. A lot of it.
“I’m going to see May, tomorrow.” She whispered to herself, and opened Twitter.
Big mistake.

***

@StarkLegacyLover
I can’t believe my eyes — she looks exactly like Maria.

Blonde hair, that jawline.

If this isn’t Stark blood, it’s a damn good impersonator.

@MabelMystery2025
The resemblance is stunning. Like a mirror image.

And blond — Maria Stark was brunette, but other than that... Coincidence? I think not.

@SpiderGirlFandom
If Spider‑Girl meets this mystery Stark replica, that’s gonna be cinematic as hell. Can i ship-or no??

@PrettyPowerTruths
Her face. The exact same cheeks. The same eyes.

Stunningly pretty. My heart can’t take the beauty and the mystery.

@HotlineStark
Car enters Tower underground parking? That’s not a tease, that’s confirmation of something.

@JJJWatch
J. Jonah Jameson voice: “I’ve seen enough! If that’s not a Stark, I’ll eat my hat.”

@SpiderGirlLeaks
Not saying Spider-Girl’s been watching this house since July but…

we got two sightings of her perched on nearby rooftops over the summer. I sense loveeeee <33

What does she know 👀

#SpiderGirlKnows

@FlashThompson

She’s a nobody from my school-and not THAT pretty. Bet u spider-girl is prettier. She probably won sm stupid science comp. She’s 16 all. 

@mabelcansteponme

Oh ur the same flash thompson from earlier!!! She’s sixteen guys, so hold off the shipping and simping for now. She goes to midtown in NYC

Link here: midtownhighforscienceandengineering.com

@MarvelInternsReal
There’s no way she’s an intern.

Stark interns don’t get Happy Hogan as their Lyft driver.

@THEJohnnyStorm ✔️

Pause. That’s her side prof. She’s 16?!  She’s stunning. 

waaaaittt , i think i heard reed talking about some science genius at midtown. Theories people. Chop.chop. 

@johnnystormsmyidol

Johnny storm called her stunning. Without a joke. 

Guys if johnny storm CALLED ME STUNNING-i’d never recover. 

#BlondeGirls’sFanClub #MabelParker

@prettytechgoddess
if she’s not a Stark I will literally combust

she’s too beautiful to be normal

#BlondeGirl’sFanClub #MabelParker 

@futureavengersquad
Calling it:
She’s gonna show up in a Stark suit within 2 years.

Maybe Spider-Girl’s partner/gf 

Maybe something bigger.

#NewAvengerEnergy

***

Mabel dropped her phone like it was hot lava. 

Great. 

That was the weirdest thing she has ever seen. And then, eyes half shut, she checked her follow requests.
Through the literal roof. All she had on her account were some scenic photography photos of NYC, and a few selfies? It was private though.
Should she make a public one?
Mabel rolled her shoulders, flopping back onto a fluffy cushion. She deserved to create some drama.
Plus.
Johnny Storm had called her stunning. That definitely deserved a response. She clicked through ‘Make an Account’, then paused.
Did she really want to do this? Maybe she should check with Dr.Stark first.
A knock on her door. 

“Come in!” she called in response, shaking her head. 

Wow.
Maybe she was able to see the future. Rolling her eyes, she cracked her knuckles and swung off the bed, stumbling from dizziness. 

“Oh my goodness!” Pepper Potts, Ms Potts, the PEPPER POTTS, rushed over.
Mabel had already straightened by the time the woman had made it to her.
“Um?” She looked blankly at the woman, whose eyes were wide.
“You stumbled, are you alright honey?” Ms Potts was looking her up and down nervously, hands twitching forward and then back.
She laughed awkwardly-don’t say low blood sugar, don’t say low blood sugar- “I’m just clumsy, plus I stood up too fast. Blood rushed to my head. Don’t worry about it.”

Ms Potts nodded along, “Right, of course.” she straightened, and a gentle smile came across the woman’s face, “Would you like to have some dinner?”
“Yes!” Mabel blurted and then slowed, “I mean, yeah. Sounds good.”
The corner of Ms Pott’s mouth twitched. 

Mabel followed after her through the hallways, eyeing how dark it had gotten already.

“How are you finding your room, love?” Ms Potts asked, as soft golden lights turned on by the skirting boards.
“Oh, it’s lovely,” Mabel responded, fidgeting, “I hope you don’t mind I took stuff from the closet? Is that-”
Ms Potts beamed, “You did! That’s wonderful!”
Mabel blinked, “It is?”
Ms Potts nodded, her white dress pants swishing a little with each step, “I have been meaning to take you shopping. I’m aware you’re visiting Ms Parker tomorrow, in the morning. Perhaps in the afternoon? Tony’s buying.” The woman’s eyes sparkled,and something in Mabel urged her to agree.
“I would.. Like that. Yeah.”
Mabel inwardly slapped herself. Super awkward. Well done. 

Ms Potts just laughed and linked their arms together, “Excellent. Now, let’s go horrify your father. I don’t suppose you have a boyfriend or anything that would raise his blood pressure?”

Oh, you mean like regularly swinging through the streets of the city and stopping organised crime as a spider-themed vigilante?

“Nope!” Mabel shrugged, “Sorry to disappoint. Although apparently I have some sort of “fan club” now? I checked my Twitter.”
Ms Potts laughed again, “Don’t worry about it sweetheart. Any crushes?” 

Mabel blushed, “Sort of? It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?”
The two laughed, and Mabel felt this warm, fuzzy feeling rise in her throat. Her and May had talked too, but not like this. Talking with Ms Potts was light, and cozy, and nice.
She liked it.
She really liked it.
“I hope you like Pasta alla Norma, because Tony has ordered a storm of it,” Ms Potts tilted her head, a strand of strawberry blonde hair falling out of her neat bun, “It’s astonishing how much that man can eat. Especially when it’s cheeseburgers. Or pasta.”

And with that they entered the open air kitchen, with a large balcony that Mabel reckoned was where Dr.Stark  flew in with the Iron Man suit. 

“Already slandering me to my daughter?” Dr.Stark’s voice was light-hearted, and he was  busy spooning pasta into plates. 

Ms Potts led her down to an elegant marble table, already laid with cutlery and glasses. 

Three places. 

“What about your assistant?” Mabel asked, glancing at the table, “Or Mr Hogan-Happy?”
Dr.Stark and Ms Potts stiffened a little.
“Happy had a date, surprisingly, “ Dr.Stark mused, his dark blazer tossed onto a nearby couch. Carelessly. Mabel eyed it a little. 

“And, Ms Romanoff went back home.” Ms Potts finished, and she sat down, prompting Mabel to sit as well. 

“I never knew Natasha Romanoff worked as your assistant as well as the Black Widow,” Mabel said idly, glancing out a the view of New York, warm lights twinkling below, “It sounds like a lot of work.”
Ms Potts shrugged, “It’s more of a part-time thing. She helps on the odd occasion.”
Hairs on the back of Mabel’s neck stood up.

Ms Potts was lying. About Natasha Romanoff. But she kept her face relaxed, and just nodded as steaming plates of pasta and tomato sauce were dropped in front of them.
“Are you sure you don’t need-” Mabel started.
“All good, kid.” Dr.Stark said, grabbing cutlery, “Dig on in. Have seconds. Or thirds even. I think I ordered enough for Bruce.”

An easy silence fell around the table, and for a moment, Mabel let herself relax. Just for a moment.
What was the harm?

Chapter Text

The eyes are windows to the soul, so they say.
But they think that windows work awfully well for their purpose. They watched, silently, as the forms danced about the house, imitating life and “family”. They smiled, watching the one. Darkness flickered slightly, and rain began to pour, splattering the clear image into muddled paint. They scoffed, turning to the blue-toned monitors. The feed glitched once, and then steadied. They sat, calmly appraising the image as countless others flicked through thousands of photos. 

They smiled, slightly. Even with these slight.. Inconveniences, everything is going according to plan. 

***

Mabel resisted the urge to fidget. Dr.Stark and Ms Potts were looking at her expectantly. She bit her lip. 

“So,” Dr.Stark cleared his throat, “Ballet? What’s the story with that?”
Her eyes widened, “Oh, um, my neighbour?” She inwardly kicked herself for letting it sound like a question, “My neighbour,” she reaffirmed, “Jessica Drew? She used to babysit me when I was a kid, and was majorly into ballet, so you know.” She shrugged.
Dr.Stark nodded.
Mabel wracked her brain for something, anything to say. She glanced at the blue rug by the television, just to have something, anything to stare at.
“Dear?” She lifted her head to meet Ms Potts’ anxious gaze, “I was wondering, do you-would you,” She swallowed hard before continuing. Mabel braced herself. 

“Would you mind if we called you Amelia-or would you prefer Mabel?”
Dr.Stark stiffened, and Mabel felt similar tension go taught across her spine. 

“Oh,” She said quietly, staring down at her empty plate, “I-thanks for asking?”
She lifted and raised one shoulder, then began twisting her hair around her finger, “Well, in my memory, I’ve just been called Mabel, or ‘Bel for short.”
Dr.Stark glanced away.
“But,” Mabel hurried, tugging at her hair a little harder, “I don’t think I’d mind Amelia? Whatever makes you comfortable.”
She finally met Ms Potts’ gaze, and the woman was tearing up, “Oh honey, it’s not about us. What would you like?”
She shifted in the plush seat, anxiety now a second heartbeat. 

Mabel or Amelia. 

“I-I don’t know yet?” She admitted, the words feeling like cement as she forced them out. Mabel glanced up at Dr.Stark, his painfully alert eyes, “Is that okay?” 

The two glanced at each other, and nodded, “So Mabel for now then?”
Mabel nodded, turning her attention to the skyline of New York, trying to breathe beyond the innate wrongness of Amelia Maria Stark. 

“Breathtaking, isn’t it dear?” 

Ms Potts had a faint smile about her lips as she looked out at the city. 

She thrummed her fingers on the table.
There was a long beat of silence.

God, this was awkward. 

Ms Potts cleared her throat, “So, tell us a bit about you. Your friends, Miles, Michelle Jones, and Ned, correct?”

She nodded, “Yeah, I’ve known Ned since middle school, and I met Miles and MJ at Midtown.”
Dr.Stark looked interested, leaning forward, and Mabel had to squash the fan girl in her that was screaming about IRON MAN sitting across the table, “Midtown? Your school. What do you think about it?”
She frowned a bit at the question, mulling it over, “I like some of the classes, plus it’s STEM orientated, which, you know.” She waved a hand, trying to encompass STEM as the future-she loved it-”Flash sucks, but like, it’s not bad, for a highschool.”
Dr.Stark tilted his head, “Flash?”
She rolled her eyes, “Eugene Thomson. He calls himself Flash. He’s not stupid-but he’s,” She gestured, thinking for the words, “A teenage boy. I can handle it.”
Dr.Stark frowned, “A teenage boy? He’s not-”
Mabel shook her head, “Oh no! No, no, no. Just.. irritating. Nothing relationship-wise.” She sways her hand side-to-side, then snickers, “Though maybe he’d try to hit on me now, that I’m a Stark.”
Ms Potts laughed. A bright, ringing sound. It echoed throughout the large space.
Bigger than her old apartment. With May.  

“What about kindergarten, elementary?” Ms Potts asked, tilting her head as she began to stack the plates, “Or middle school?”

Kindergarten. 

Middle school.
Normal questions, Mabel. Just breathe through it. 

“I went to the same middle school as Ned,” She started, “Explore Middle School? Then we both were, um, put into an accelerated program. Into Mid-Town, basically.”
Ms Potts nodded, “And kindergarten? Probably one near your apartment, right?”
She nodded numbly, “Yeah. I don’t really remember kindergarten much to be honest.”
Mabel shifted, rolling her ankle a little, “As for elementary, well. I preferred middle school. It’s where I met Ned. I, don’t really know what else to say about it.” 

Ms Potts opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by  a loud, beeping alarm blared throughout the penthouse, echoing louder and louder. Mabel clamped her hands over her ears, trying desperately to block out the loud noise. It was loud, ringing in her ears, her skull, vibrating her bones.
Ms Potts winced too, hands going to her ears, “TONY!”
Dr.Stark frowned, “FRIDAY?”
“Boss,” The AI’s voice echoed from the ceiling, and Mabel tried to ease the tremor that went up her spine at the sound of it. It felt.. Familiar and weird all at once. 

“There seems to be a.. Disturbance. An enhanced individual named “Viper” has just attacked Oscorp. The building is burning. Ms Romanov and Captain Rodgers are mobilising. They are requesting your aid.”
Dr.Stark ran a hand through his hair, “Get the Mark XLVI ready.” He glanced at Mabel, and she could see the worry in his eyes, “And activate the tower security protocols.”
“Yes Sir.”
Ms Potts reached out, her expression hesitant, “Tony-”
“I’ll be back,” Dr.Stark said, looking at the both of them, it sounded like a promise. He grinned, “It’s just one person.”
Mabel frowned, “Are you.. Sure?” 

She wanted to help-and if she had her suit, maybe she could..

The suit was at Ned’s house. 

“No.”
Dr.Stark’s voice was hard, and she snapped her gaze to his, “You both need to stay here. I-” He swallowed hard, “I need you both to be safe, okay?”
Mabel felt a lump in her throat.
Fighting crime as an unauthorised vigilante isn’t exactly safe. 

She just nodded mutely. 

Dr.Stark hurried to the balcony, and the armouring system buzzed to life. And that little part of Mabel’s brain that had been silent all weekend started paying attention. 

She gnawed her lip, as she watched each piece of armour lift into the air, surrounding Dr.Stark with incredible precision. 

“Induction levitation— no, no, more likely directed-field manipulation? But how’s he stabilizing each piece midair without mutual interference? Some kind of adaptive phase-shift controller?” She mulled the questions in her mind as the armour snapped into place, watching the way it sealed together, mind whirring. 

“Those microservos aren’t off-the-shelf. Each one’s got to have an onboard gyroscope for torque compensation. The power density alone— that’s gotta be a next-gen arc cell. He’s literally wearing a compact fusion plant. And he’s calm. Like it’s no big deal that he’s about to strap on a personal aerospace-grade weapons system that could rewrite the periodic table if it misfires.” She shuddered internally, thinking hard. 

One misfire, one failed calculation.. 

Boom. 

Finally, the chestplate sealed perfectly over the Arc Rector strapped to Dr.Stark’s-to her dad’s chest. Keeping him alive. 

Oh god. 

Mabel moved then, heading toward him, eyes roving over the suit. 

“Impressed kid?” Dr.Stark’s voice came out slightly robotic. 

She grinned, “The precision on this thing? How did you get it to map your micro-movements so exactly?”
Dr.Stark sounded pleased, “Trade secret. I can show you it slower in the lab-” Another ringing noise interrupted them, cutting him off.
Cold wind began to blow around them, whipping her wet hair around her face. 

“You’d better get back inside,” Dr.Stark said after a beat, once the ringing had stopped, “Don’t want you to catch a cold.”
She snorted, and then looked up at the cold blue eyes of the suit, and words ripped out of her throat before she could stop herself. Because that-that was her dad. 

“Be careful.”

Iron Man tilted his head at her, “Sure thing, Ace. Now hurry back in. This thing’s got a kick to it.”
She hurried back inside, shivering slightly as the warm heat hit her, Ms Potts staring at the suit-at Tony inside, nervously.
Then the repulsors ignite — blue-white, hotter than welding arcs — and Mabel flinches as the pressure wave ripples across the balcony. Then he was gone, a blue, red and gold blur over New York. 

Ace. 

This is such a disaster. 

Mabel’s left staring at the vapor trails, hands still tingling from the static.

Ms Potts’s hands are shaking for a totally different reason. 

Mabel buried that sick feeling in her gut, writhing around in there, that feeling that prickled the back of her neck and screamed “DANGER”. 

She turned from the glass, from the vapor trails that followed him-pulled into his orbit. 

She mechanically put dishes away, her eyes blank. 

It shouldn’t have scared her so much.

 
It did. 

It was so bright here. She blinked hard, dark spots spiralling in her vision, trying to focus her eyes. 

“You don’t need to do that honey,” Ms Potts’s voice came, still calm. Loud, even compared to the water pouring from the expensive stainless steel sink. The marble countertops reflected the light into her eyes more, and she dragged her eyes away, trying to find something easier to look at. 

Mabel fixed her eyes on the red rug by the massive television, trying to avoid the woman’s piercing blue eyes. 

“It’s been a long day,” Ms Potts said, her footsteps light for a normal person, “You should try to get some rest.”
She nodded, her hands feeling as if they were weighed down by bricks.
Dragging her down. 

Something was wrong. 

She just couldn’t put her finger on what. Mabel scratched the back of her neck, then her hand. Where the spider had bit her and.. 

And. 

She blinked, staring down at the clean, wet plates.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” She said numbly, exhaustion beginning to hit.
God, her brain was spinning. It had been a long day.
“Of course dear.”
Ms Potts smiled, and moved as if she was going to hug Mabel, but then settled for squeezing her shoulder, “I’m so, so, so happy you’re here.”
She smiled back, feeling her shoulders relax, “Thanks Ms Potts.”
Ms Potts waved a hand, “Please, call me Pepper. Everyone does.”

“Sure Ms-I mean, Pepper.”
The lady smiled again, and Mabel forced herself through a parody of a smile back. 

She walked back the long hallway, slipping into her room, dimming the lights. 

Sighing as the darkness made her brain slow down. She picked up her phone, the blue light harsh.
Messages from her friends. She dismissed most of them, opening Ned’s. 

Mabel

Can I stop by urs tomorrow?”

She waited, staring at the screen, ignoring the way her temples began to throb. 

A ding. 

Ned

Souonds good. Got a chem essay to write so i’ll be there

Mabel 

Souonds great. 

Ned

Die. 

Mabel 

Your laughing!!

Ned

*you’re

She smirked at the phone, before grabbing her charger and forcing it in, staring around the massive bedroom.
This was the weirdest day of her life. 

She grabbed her pyjamas, determinedly not looking at anything else. It had been a long day. Mabel glanced at the green-blue bruise on her side, and contented herself with thoughts of May.
She’d see her soon. 

Soon. 

Diving back into the bed, after brushing her teeth, she relaxed on it, soft as a cloud.
But inwardly, she thought of her slightly uneven bed back home. Of the smell of coffee and old books. Shutting her eyes tightly, she tried to breathe.
This was fine. 

And if she soaked her pillow with silent tears that night?
That was a secret between her and the darkness. 

***

“I get it.” She tried not to sound too put out by the endless rules Dr.-Tony and Pepper were circling through, exchanging looks each time. She rolled her neck, sighing. 

Tony adjusted his cuffs, “We can wait-if you’re not ready.”
“No!” she threw her hands up, worry sparking through her, “I’m ready, I’m ready.” 

Tony adjusted his sunglasses, pushing them up to hide his nose, “Let’s move then.”
Pepper smiled at them both, as Mabel stood up to grab-yet another nondescript jumper- and yanked it over her head, the hood covering the blonde hair.
“I’ll pick you up at twelve,” Pepper said, lacing her fingers together, straightening her shoulders, “I’ve already arranged it all. And then to- Ned’s house, right?”
She nodded, forcing a tight smile, “Thank you so much, Ms Pott-I mean, Pepper.”
“Of course, dear.”
Pepper moved in for a hug, and Mabel stiffened, before allowing herself to relax into it, trying not to recoil at the smell of expensive perfume instead of sterile hospital or lavender.
“One more thing,” Tony lifted a hand, a shiny silver watch between his fingers, simple and elegant, a square like screen, a sharp black.
“A watch,” She noted.
Tony smirked, “Congratulations, you can state the obvious. It’s a StarkWatch, in case you lose the phone, or Pepper loses you. It can call and receive messages.”
And track you if you ditch the phone. 

She mentally tacked that onto the ending, but stretched out her wrist agreeably, letting him help her adjust it, tightening it. A strand of blonde hair came loose from the absolute disaster of the plait she had thrown her hair into. 

***
Tony watched the strand of blonde hair fall from his daughter’s hood, while she bent her head over the watch. He dumbly continued his explanation, watching her eyes light up as she swiped through it, syncing with the phone in her pocket.
He knew she still had her old one.

But he knew where she was now.
She would be okay.
It would be okay.

It wouldn’t always be the sleepless night he had experienced last night, the first night she was home. He had asked FRIDAY countless times if she was in her room. And although Amelia had requested privacy, he allowed FRIDAY to monitor just her heat signature. Not what she was doing, just that he’d know she was in there. Okay.
Safe. 

Breathing. 

He took a deep breath as Amelia’s brown eyes locked on his, and she nodded, tucking the stray strand of hair back beneath the hood.
His fingers twitched.

Tony grinned, and bowed instead, “Your chariot awaits.”
She mockingly raised her hand and waved like a parody of the Queen, “Please, no autographs.”

And he allowed himself to relax, just a little with the jokes, the sarcasm, the anything but thinking about what was happening. He couldn’t think too much, or too little.
Just keep breathing. 

***

Mabel fidgeted as they pulled around the back of the station. She glanced at Happy, sitting in the front, face impassive.
They were all far colder than they had been back at the Tower. 

But as she glanced at the foreboding door of the station, she felt this bubble of relief that May was inside- that she’d see her soon.
Soon wasn’t soon enough. 

She thrummed her fingers on her new lime washed jeans, with a cropped red hoodie, and a black tank top. All non-descript, and just baggy enough to hide her frame, her person.
Oh, she was going to see May. 

“Can I get out now?” She directed it at Happy, tilting her head slightly. 

Happy said nothing. 

“Hold on,” Tony grabbed her sleeve, gently, “I’m coming with you. Into the station. The rules I’ve been given, the rules I’m telling you, is that I have to come.”
She stared at him, “What?”
Tony pushed up his sunglasses, “On three, now. Be back in forty five, Happy.”
Happy nodded. 

“Forty five?!” Mabel started, but was hustled out of the door of the car. She ducked her head immediately, and grabbed Tony’s hand, without thinking.
Tony’s breath stuttered, and she could actually hear it.
She could hear so much here, so different from the constant vibrations and tinniness of the Tower. Yelling, and cars, hotdog stands and conversations. She soaked in the noise, glancing up at Tony. 

He walked-like always- drawing attention. Her eyes slipped down, and she let go of his hands, lacing her fingers together. 

They slipped inside the door, coffee and sanitiser hitting her as soon as she walked in.
“Mr Stark?”
A police officer walked up, name tag flashing “Officier Reeves”. 

He dipped his head at her, and the two followed him, toward one of the interrogation rooms. Mabel heard everything twice as loud. 

God, was May okay?
How long had she been in one of these rooms? Alone? May was her family, and she wouldn’t abandon her, no matter what blood said. 

“In here, Mr Stark.”
She was tempted to correct him, to insist upon it being “Dr.” 

But her fingers were tapping and May was right, right there. 

***

[SpiderWatch Official Update | Posted Wednesday 10:12 AM]

🕷️ UPDATE: No confirmed sightings of Spider-Girl since Saturday, 10/18, approximately 3:40 PM near Lower Manhattan.

She appeared to end patrol early — reason unknown.

We’ll post if new footage surfaces. Stay safe out there, webheads.

@queensfeed:
she hasn’t been seen since SATURDAY?? why’s no one talking about this more?

@cityherofootage:
usually by now someone’s caught a swing on video or a reflection in a window. nothing this time.

@spiderwatch (reply):
we’ve checked all user submissions from sunday–tuesday. no match yet.

@randomnycgal:
she could be anywhere tbh. nobody even knows how old she is. high school? college? grown woman? idk

@starkindustriesfan:
funny how she disappears right when Stark’s back in the city 👀

@maskculture:
if she stopped patrol mid-day, that could be anything. 

@brooklynvigilant:
what if she’s just switching suits or gear? might take a few days.

Post by @CityWireNY | 10:42 AM]
📸 Photo attached: blurry zoom — Tony Stark and an unidentified young woman  (mid teens) entering the NYPD 8th Precinct, Manhattan.

No statement yet from Stark Industries.

@queensfeed:
tony stark at the precinct?? that’s not normal right??

@techobserver:
anyone else notice she looks kinda young? like… 15

@flashthompson:
nah hold up— that’s Parker.

@bettybrant:
wait what??

@flashthompson (reply):
look at the photo going around — that’s her, i swear. same jacket, same bag.

@queensfeed:
you mean Mabel Parker from Midtown?? From earleir?? 

@bettybrant:
yeah. she hasn’t been in journalism since last week. thought she was sick.

@localrebel:
so this random high school kid’s walking into the precinct with TONY STARK?? what is happening

@streetcam_nyc:
you can kinda see she’s leaning on him, like limping?

@queenswatch:
yeah and Happy Hogan’s in the background too. what’s a Midtown student doing with Stark’s head of security?

@flashthompson:
this is seriously weird. she never talks about anything, then just—vanishes?

@nyc_watchblog:
people are saying she got out of Happy Hogan’s car. why’s Stark’s head of security dropping someone off at the police station?

@SpiderWatch:
🕷️ unrelated maybe, but still no Spider-Girl sightings since Saturday afternoon.
Timing’s… interesting.

@herotracker:
nah i’m with @SpiderWatch — weird overlap- tho i love how we all go- tony stark + random hero = somethings going on

@ironfan1999:
that’s the same precinct that handled the Stark Tower incident cleanup back in ‘12, or at least parts of it around queens 

@cityherofootage:
the photo’s so blurry but it kinda looks like she’s holding his hand? She’s like 16 maxxxx

@maskculture:
people bringing up Spider-Girl every time Stark sneezes is wild 😭 it’s prob business.

***

Tony watched as Amelia walked into the room and burst into tears.
“..May?” Her voice was choked, and the middle-aged woman with kind eyes turned around.
“Mabel?” She spread her arms, “Oh, Mabel, honey!”
She hurried into the woman’s arms, crying as she did so. They both held each other, murmuring quietly. 

Tony sat slowly, on one of the hard metal chairs, watching his daughter sob into another woman’s arms. 

He hadn’t quite expected it to hurt so much. 

He waited for a minute, watching his child be held by someone else, someone who could have taken part in her kidnapping.
Then the woman coughed, “Mabel, dear.”
Amelia broke away, wiping her eyes, “Right, um,” She glanced at Tony, then at May Parker, “May, this is Tony- he’s my biological father.”
May nodded, “The detective told me, Mabel, I swear, I had no idea. I married Ben after he and Richard stopped talking, after Richard married your-” She glanced at Tony, “Mary. I had no idea, of any of this.”
Tony wanted to hate her, disbelieve her. But she stared at him, and Mabel, with tears in her eyes and brutal sincerity. 

“We don’t have long,” Tony said, glancing at his watch, which dinged Mabel’s nearby. He shoved the relief down about that, “Forty five minutes, max. They want to talk more about Richard and Ben, but I’ve convinced them to let Mrs Parker stay at a nearby hotel, under supervision. Paid for, of course.”
Mrs Parker stared at him, “You-I-what?”
Amelia blinked, and then suddenly she was warm in his arms, bending over to hug him tightly, “Thank you.” Her voice was hushed, and tight, and she was trembling slightly. 

And that moment made all the hassle worth it. All the pain, and repressed anger. Hugging his daughter was the best feeling in the world.
And it was over too soon.

Amelia laughed, a little bit like a sob, “Thank you.”
“Of course,” He looked up at his little girl, “Always.”

***

They left the precinct forty seven minutes later. 

Mabel felt lighter than she had in days, knowing May would be safe in a hotel, and that Dr.Stark- had arranged it all. 

Pepper waited for them, hands clasped in her lap, “Tony,” She smiled gently at Mabel, strawberry blonde hair elegantly curled, makeup spotless, outfit pristine, a navy powersuit, high heels, a beautiful white lace inner shirt. 

Mabel felt underdressed right next to her.
“We’ll drop Tony off at the Tower,” Pepper said, grabbing one of Mabel’s hands, squeezing, “And then we’ll head shopping. I’ve cleared my schedule for the next five hours, and all we have to do, is spend money.”

Mabel felt a grin escape her, “Whatever will we do about that?”

***

The glass doors of the boutique glided shut behind them, the “Closed for Private Appointment” sign flipped neatly by one of the stylists. Inside, the light was soft and golden, reflecting off mirrors and glass shelves stacked with shoes Mabel wouldn’t have dared touch a week ago.

A week ago she hadn't been here. 
Anxiety still ate her stomach alive, about Spider-Girl, May, her parents. Everything she didn't know. She glanced at Pepper. 

Pepper Potts didn’t look like she’d just shut down three designer stores on Fifth Avenue — she looked like she did this every day. Graceful, calm, phone in one hand, another holding a cup of matcha like it was an extension of her willpower.

Mabel trailed a step behind her, sneakers squeaking on marble.
“Are you sure we’re—uh—allowed to just walk in like this? They, um, locked the doors behind us.”

Pepper smiled, passing her a hanger. “Yes, that’s sort of the point of ‘private appointment.’ You get the store to yourself. It’s… quieter.”

Mabel eyed the tag, saw the number, and almost dropped it.
“Quieter and way more terrifying,” she muttered. Pepper smoothly turned the tag over, hiding the price with a thumb. “Don’t look at those. They’re meaningless.”

That earned a small, startled laugh from Mabel — the kind that escaped before she could stop it.

They moved through the racks, Pepper holding things up for her to see: a pale blue blouse, a soft leather jacket, shoes that looked like art. Mabel kept shaking her head, half in disbelief, half out of habit.     “I don’t know, Ms. Potts,” she said, holding up a sequined top. “Feels like I’d need bodyguards just to wear this to school.”

Pepper grinned. “That can be arranged, actually, the trouble would be stopping Tony.” “Please don’t let him.”   For every dress Mabel hesitated over, Pepper found another she could ease into — jeans, sneakers, shoes, dresses. Let’s just say they left the stores, all of them, with too many bags, and Mabel had to leave before she heard the prices. 

Pepper said, and she quotes, “She was being spoiled for sixteen years of birthdays.”
It was sort of a good argument. 

“So can we head to Ned’s now?”
Pepper nodded, pursing her lips, “You’ll have to direct Happy.”
Mabel nodded, sliding up towards Mr Hogan-Happy, “Okay, so-”