Chapter Text
Hiding in my room, pacing up and down, I construct a text message to my Dad.
I fear facing him after what Peter and I did to his prototype. Surely he won’t be that mad. Right?
*Text Message*
Isla: Dad, hypothetically, if Peter and I were to have broken the Arc Reactor Prototype... how would you feel, and what would you do? Hypothetically, of course…
Billionaire Father: Isla!!!!! You have only been back here for less than 24 hours, and considering I have a massive meeting tomorrow, that was my only prototype at hand since Morgan took the other one in for show and tell... which ended up getting bedazzled during arts and crafts. I’d say hypothetically, y'all better run and beg Jarvis and Bruce to make one asap!!!!!!!
Better bring us coffee 😒🙃
Isla: ON WAY ASAP LOVE YOU!
Billionaire Father: Ohhh, and consider yourself grounded!
Isla: But Dad, I’m 24. You can’t still ground me, come on!
Billionaire Father: I may not be able to ground you anymore, psychically, kid, but I am going to tell Fury you are ready for your chat!
Isla: NOOO PLSSSS I TOLD YOU I WILL TALK TO FURY MYSELF. Dad, DON’T YOU DARE ...... I’ll clean all your sunglasses for 2 weeks and your cars!!!!
Billionaire Father: Knew you’d crack 🤣I’ll leave my sunnies and keys on the kitchen countertop.
*Few hours later*
Billionaire Father: Stop sulking, Isla, and come to the living room. All the rest of the team are back from their mission. I want them to finally meet my stubborn child.
*Walking into the living area*
“Team, I know some have had the misfortune to already know them, but for those of you who haven’t, I want to introduce you to…” Gesturing to me. As soon as I see Nat, I run into her arms.
“AUNT NAT!” Noticing over Aunt Nat's shoulder. “Uncle Clint, Uncle Bruce! How have you all been?” Both men grin from ear to ear, giving a nod that they are well.
“We’re Good Trouble.” Uncle Clint's silly nickname for me.
“As I was about to say until I was interrupted. This is my oldest Daughter, Isla”.
Everyone’s eyes are already on me… I hate being the center of attention. “Hi, Nice to meet you all.”
“Hello, Miss Stark. I am…” Letting out a giggle. As THE Captain America takes my hand and firmly shakes it.
“Captain America! Hi Steve, nice to finally meet you. I feel like I know you all already. Dad has told me so much about you all.” I make my way around the room offering my hand to shake.
“Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Pietro, Yelena, Kate, Thor, and mmmhh I don’t think I can quite put my finger on your name… Wait, oh yeah.” Turning to Dad. “That’s Reindeer Games! Mr Thinks he is all full of Mischief, and I can take over the world energy? Logan? No wait, Loki, that's it.” I shoot a glare at Loki, giving him a grin full of mischief and a bit of anger.
Nearly being knocked off my feet, with a slap to my back. “HAHAHAHA Oh, good one, Lady Isla. I feel like we will most definitely get along. Brother do, lighten up. You did attack her loved ones a few years ago.”
I still place my hand out to try to be respectful to him. After Thor nudges him, he returns the offer. I CANNOT believe they live with this guy after everything he has done. How do they even feel safe with him here?
“Stark, how come we never knew of Isla before? Where is that accent from, Doll?”
“Scotland, Buck. My Mum and I live in Glasgow. I have stayed there my whole life. Living a secret life as Tony Stark’s daughter here, but in Scotland I am a normal kid from a rough area.” Feels weird every time I go to open up to people after keeping both lives so separate.
“I would love to get to know you all. I am almost all unpacked. If any of you want, we can catch up soon here or wherever you all hang out, and we can chat.” Pep and Dad follow me to help me unpack a little faster.
We walk back to the living area where everyone is sitting around with Dad’s favorite meal. Shawarma. It is really a surreal feeling being here, with them all. Normally, those who knew of me just come to visit Glasgow to minimize my involvement with the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. I always knew one day I would most probably be ready for this, but I wanted it on my terms. I lived a semi-normal life with my Mum before I have to join this chaotic life. I guess now is the time for this part of my life to begin. I hope I don’t fuck up and get us all killed.
“Hey, Sis, we ordered you some food if you are hungry.” Peter has become a little brother to me; he belongs in this family.
“Thanks, Pete. Can I sit next to you, Wanda? Is that okay?” Wanda shimmies her bum over to create more room for me and shines me the brightest smile I think I have ever seen.
“So… I’m shit at letting people get to know me. Ehh, I guess if anyone has any questions, go ahead.” Silence falls over the group for a second before Kate speaks up.
“What was it like growing up in Scotland? I know there are so many differences to American Culture.” Kate seems so sweet. I can’t wait to get to know her.
“Well, I guess an important thing to put out there is that we speak a whole lot faster than most people. I tone my accent and speed down a lot in front of others out of habit. A lot of people who aren’t familiar with Scots don’t seem to quite understand us. So feel free at any point to stop me if you don’t catch what I’m trying to say.” Speeding up the last part of my sentence to test the waters and give a glimpse to the team of what I mean.
“Also, we use a lot of swearing, different slang, and we love a wind-up. A joke. We have a particular dark humor from time to time.” The group let out a laugh. A few eyes shot Cap a look. Knowing fine well, I am in for a few telling-offs in the future for sure.
“What is your Mom’s family like?” I turn to Yelena, smiling at the thought of my family back home.
“Well, it is complicated. My Mum,Lucy, remarried to my stepdad, Ben, when I was around ten. I guess I am fortunate enough that I don’t just have the family that brought me into this world. But I have a great extended family. Mum has always brought me up to believe that you meet your family along the way in this life. My Mum is an only child. I grew up with my Gran, who gave up everything to help bring me up in Scotland… I owe everything to her, and I like to think everything I do in this life will honor her sacrifice.”
My eyes start welling up thinking of the Mother figures I have lost.
“In my stepfamily, I have Step Uncle and Step Aunt. My Aunt is married with three kids, and my Uncle is divorced with two kids. I’m the oldest of them all. I love spending time with all the littles, and my step-grandpa is a widower. My Step Nan was a big part of my life too. Not doing well in the Grandparent department, pretty sparse.” I let out a laugh, and so did Dad. I look at him, not knowing really what else to say. I don’t like to mention much about them, since they live quiet lives.
“Honey, why don’t you tell them about you in school. One of the reasons Barton calls you Trouble.” I uncontrollably let out a loud laugh, thinking of all the shit I got into trouble for back then.
“Ehh, half of the mischief I got up to was well validated. Hoff of those teachers deserved it! Right, when I was in High School, I took loads of different subjects throughout my five years there, but I’ll just tell you the funny ones I got into trouble with. I had Drama, against my will, Art, and Biology, I think, were the main ones… Well, in High School, at least. We will not talk about my feud with my Primary 7 teacher.”
Dad translates into what that would be in American Grade.
“So in Drama, I originally chose Dance, but the teacher wouldn’t stop getting up to the duff. Pregnant.”
Laughs burst out at the Scottish reference to being pregnant.
“So I had to take Drama, because I was not about to take double lessons of Gym or double Mathematics, since I was already asked to drop the second-lowest level. Since I’m that stupid, the teacher just so happened to leave the answer sheet at my table so I’d pass. Back to my point about Drama, I got told off by the teacher that I was monotone, I couldn’t do accents for shit, and I read too slow… Oh, by the way, I have Dyslexia. Just no one caught on until I was in university.” I notice a confused Thor.
“When I read, it takes forever for my brain to unravel the words in front of me. Some describe it as if your letters are mixed or backwards, kinda.” He nods slowly, trying to figure it out… I will explain it to him later, ahah.
“So I got to a point in school that I was just there for a wind-up, messing with her a few times. Until I met my new seat. The cupboard… That bitch sensed me walk into her class by the second year I had her and wouldn’t even look at me, would instantly tell me to go into the cupboard. Bitch knew fine well I’d just slag her.” Dad says, ‘Make fun of her.’
“The full time, so valid on her behalf. Got her back, though. When it came to her beloved shows, the Drama class would put on every summer. Could she fuck find any of her important costumes that I hid from her?” Laughter fills the room at my bluntness; even my cap doesn’t bother telling me off. Can’t tell a story without swearing; it adds to the fun.
“Art is a whole 10-part series that Woman Hates the Ground I Walk On. She denies even teaching me. I think I traumatized her that much. I’ll keep it short in case I bore you all. I was resisting Art. I started giving up on education. I was now failing the class for the second time, until the teacher wrongfully isolated me at a table by myself and told me I would amount to nothing, and she was going to get me kicked from the class. Bear this in mind up until this point: hand on my heart, I had never caused trouble in this class; I never troubled teachers until they annoyed me. I went home and googled ‘smart Art words to describe things’ and remembered all the words, and I started slapping them in sentences. God knows if I was using them right, but to my surprise, I got my first ever full marks on my homework. The glory was short-lived. the bitch accused me of cheating, so I showed her what determination to prove her wrong gets you. I sat my prelim. My test exam to see what I might get in the real one. Got the only full marks within my resit class; the teacher accused me again of cheating. I let her rant the full time, saying she will report me to the education board, that I will have all my previous awards taken from me, and that I will be refused entry and my upcoming ones. First off bitch I am in a resit class for a reason. I got three F’s last year, and little did she know I had something up my sleeve that would bring her down a peg. I told her to go get the head of the Art department, a man who has been backing me up the whole time I raged my war with her. Knowing fine well, I probably was being a menace to her, but I knew I was never going to cheat. He walks in, addresses her in front of the full class, lets her give her statement of basically I’m a cheating bitch. He lets her finish before she asks me.
‘Isla, where were you sitting in your exam?’
‘Front row, sir, next to the wall.’
‘And this is a severe accusation to bring to my attention, is it not? So we would have to investigate how you cheated and who was not doing their due diligence to make sure you couldn’t cheat.’
For context, we normally have people called invigilators who are normally old people, walking up and down, making sure we don’t cheat.
‘Isla, can you please tell me who was stationed in front of you for the FULL EXAM?’
‘You sir.’
‘So, Miss Clarence, not only have you now accused one of the only students in your class who has shown potential in passing a resit. You are now accusing the head of this department of allowing said student to cheat. I think it would be best if you just leave this as it is before you regret it.”
Everyone burst into laughter. Thankfully, I was so nervous that I was ranting too much and was boring everyone.
“Doll, I wouldn’t think you to be the outgoing and misbehaved type.” I tilt my head.
“Bucky, have you met my Dad? If you heard the stories, my Mum got up to in school, in her day, teachers could hit you, and believe me, she hit back.”
I feel a little more at ease. I hate the feeling of awkwardness. The rest of the night, people took turns telling me their stories, so I decided to take a step back from mine. I always have the fear that I take up too much space. I only answer direct questions to myself and try to keep my sentences shorter. Dad notices that too and realizes I am getting overwhelmed and in my head, but before he can say anything. Pep was five steps ahead.
“Isla, love, do you want to help me check on Morgan? I know she will be so excited that you get to tuck her in at night.” Dad mouths ‘Thank you’ to Pep. I catch their small interaction as I am making my way to the elevator.
“Good Night, guys. If you are all away by the time I am back. It’s so nice getting to know you all.”
Everyone shouted their Good Nights. Well, except Loki, who has been quiet the whole night. Sat in the corner next to Thor, shooting eye rolls in reaction to his Brother's storytelling. I wonder what the hell happened between being an innocent trickster child to becoming the Mr World Domination we have now? Why do I care? The less I speak to him, the better chance I have of not flying and kicking that son of a bitch for hurting all those people.