Author's Note: The title of this fic is from the poem Cold Iron by Rudyard Kipling. Every chapter title in this fic/series will be parts of a line from a work of fiction. This particular chapter pulls its title from The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Alborn. This fic is the first in a series, henceforth referred to the Erstwhile Series. This fic will be the shortest as it introduces the differences in this version of the Marvel Universe but there's not anything in the storyline itself that changes drastically. The story will really take off with Avengers.

DISCLAIMER: This fic will contain a lot of potential triggers (death, depression, violence, etc.). Please read responsibly.

I give you the first installment of But Iron, Cold Iron.

Chapter One - All endings are also beginnings (we just don't know)

"Do you think they would believe I'm old enough to gamble?" she whispered.

"Depends," he mused, smiling and leaning in as if he was sharing a secret. "How much are you willing to pay them?"

She tapped her empty wine glass on the table, thinking that over. "It's your money."

"Uh-huh. Are you wanting more grape juice?"

She nodded and he looked up, starting to flag down a waiter when Rhodey raised his voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to present this year's Apogee Award to Mr. Tony Stark!"

"Ah, give me a minute then, Dani," he said, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. He jogged up the stairs and greeted Rhodey with a handshake. He took the award and turned it this way and that as he stepped up to the mic. "Wow, would you look at that. I've never gotten anything like this before." He cleared his throat and looked up. "Before I really get going with listening to the sound of my own voice, could we get more grape juice for my daughter?" He pointed at one of the waiters at the back. "Yeah, you. Just a refill. That's great. Now, back to this. I mean, honestly, this is a prestigious award. I'm happy that when they thought success they thought of me."

Danielle looked up when the waiter reached the table. She held up her glass and smiled as he filled it. "Thanks. You don't think I could get some wine, do you?"

Obadiah leaned over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Behave," he murmured.

She pouted and sank down a little bit in her chair, sipping her juice.

"And that's it!" Tony said on stage. "Thanks and good night, I suppose!" Amidst the sudden surge of clapping, he stepped down the stage back to the table. Tony thunked the award down in front of her. "There you go, my dear," he said, sitting back down.

She reached out and turned it so she could read the inscription. "It's not as big as some of your other ones," she commented. "Pretty, though."

"Maybe. If you like boring things."

"Uh-huh. Can we go, yet?"

"No. I want to listen to the rest of the speeches."

Danielle sipped her juice slowly, squinting at him. He met her stare evenly, undaunted. Then a grin cracked his expression. "Let's go. Happy is outside with the car."

"Yes," she whispered, pumping her fist. She set her glass on the table and then slung her bag over her shoulder.

Obadiah glanced at him. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "We're not done."

"You aren't. But we are." Tony smiled and patted him on the cheek before standing. He led the way and Danielle followed him, just smiling at the people that cast looks their direction. He opened the door at the back for her and bowed comically, waving her past. "My lady."

Danielle giggled and curtsied delicately. "Why, thank you." When he followed her out, she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Can we play some poker before we go? Please? Rhodey taught me how."

"Oh, did he, now? And did he tell you that he's one of the worst poker players in the world? No."

She pouted. "Maybe some craps, then? Roulette?"

"No and no. We're going home, kiddo."

"Can't I at least use a slot machine?" she begged. "What's the point of coming to a casino if you won't even let me gamble just a little?"

He squinted at her. Then shrugged. "Sure. But just one turn on the slot machine, okay? And remind me to lecture Rhodey about this later."

When they finally made it out to the car, Danielle was giggling ecstatically and Tony was shaking his head. Happy rolled down the window. "Something I need to know about, boss?"

"My kid just lost fourteen hundred bucks on a slot machine," Tony muttered, opening the limo's back door. "Didn't win even once."

"Still fun, though," Danielle assured him.

"Mr. Stark! Excuse me, Mr. Stark!"

Tony paused, putting a hand on Danielle's shoulder to stop her from moving.

"Christine Everhart, Vanity Fair Magazine," the voice said.

She's cute, Happy mouthed. Tony shrugged, thinking it over. Danielle wrinkled her nose. "Ew. I can tell what you're saying, Haps. You know that, right?"

Tony turned. "Yeah, okay. Go," he said.

The woman cleared her throat. "It's okay?"

"You have three minutes."

She held up her recorder. "You've been called the da Vinci of our time. What do you say to that?"

"Absolutely ridiculous. I don't paint. You should see some of Dani's stuff, though." He squeezed his daughter's shoulder and threw her a quick smile.

"And what do you say to your other nickname? The Merchant of Death?"

"Catchy," Danielle interjected. "I like it."

Tony smirked just a touch at that. "Let me guess. Berkley?"

"Brown, actually."

"Well, Ms. Brown, it's an imperfect world but it's the only one we've got. I guarantee you, the day weapons are no longer needed to keep the peace, I'll start making bricks and beams for baby hospitals."

"Rehearse that much?"

"Every night in front of the mirror before bedtime." That got a giggle out of Danielle and a smile tugged at his lips.

"I can see that. But all I want is a serious answer, Mr. Stark."

Tony sighed. "My old man had a philosophy. 'Peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy.'"

"That's a great line coming from the guy selling the sticks," she said, looking distinctly unimpressed.

"My father helped defeat the Nazis. He worked on the Manhattan Project. A lot of people, including your professors at Brown, would call that being a hero."

"And a lot of people would also call that war profiteering."

"Tell me, do you plan to report the millions we've saved by advancing medical technology or kept from starvation with our intelli-crops. All those breakthroughs? Military funding."

"You ever lose an hour of sleep your whole life?"

He paused, glancing towards Danielle. Then he leaned forward to make sure the recorder caught exactly what he said. "Never. Because I'm trying to make a world that's safe for my daughter. What are you doing?" He turned. "Alright, in you go, Dani."

Danielle looked up at Everhart and crossed her arms. "I thought reporters were supposed to at least pretend to be unbiased. It's a damn good thing you didn't go into acting."

Tony made an odd sound and then snickered a little. "Language," he said absently, back still turned to Everhart. "C'mon. In the car, kiddo." He opened the back door of the car and waved her inside. Tony slid into the seat behind her and shut the door. The moment he did, he started laughing.

Happy glanced back. "Airport?"

"Sure." He high fived his daughter. "That was a good line. What was her face like?"

"She looked surprised. Like this." Danielle dropped her jaw and widened her eyes a little. Then she broke into a fit of laughter. "You should let me join in on your interviews more often."

"The two of us together might give Pepper a heart attack." He leaned back and tapped on the headrest of Happy's seat. "Hey, take us through a Wendy's and let's get this girl a frosty."

"Sounds good, boss."

"He's downstairs in the shop," Danielle said before Pepper could even open her mouth, not looking up from her math homework. "He's ready to go. You can just ask JARVIS to send him up."

"Of course. JARVIS?" Pepper asked.

There was a moment of silence and then the AI responded. "He's on his way up, Ms. Potts."

"Thank you, JARVIS. Are you ready, Danielle? You've eaten? Got your things gathered?"

"Yep." She scratched out the answer to the problem and then closed the book, setting her pencil down. "Dad made pancakes. They were kinda burnt, but they were good. He put chocolate chips in them." She bent down and slipped her book into the bag at her feet. "Happy birthday, by the way."

Pepper smiled. "Thank you."

"We really should have scheduled this flight for later in the day," Tony said, stepping into the kitchen with a yawn.

"It's not so bad," Danielle said, hopping up to her feet. "I only had to get up a half hour earlier than normal."

"Your normal is five AM, kiddo," Tony said, rolling his eyes. "Alright, I had JARVIS email you instructions, but—"

"Tony, I've watched Danielle plenty of times before and she's been just fine. Besides, your daughter is twelve. She's pretty self-sustaining at this point." Pepper cleared her throat. "But I do have a couple things I need to talk to you about before you leave."

He sighed and turned to face her. "Right, fine. Lay it on me."

"Larry called. He's got another buyer for the Jackson Pollock in the wings. Do you want it? Yes or no."

"Is it a good representation of his spring period?"

"Pollock didn't have a spring period," Danielle said, bouncing on her feet.

"Right. What do you think of it, Pepper?"

"It's a very beautiful painting. It's also very overpriced, especially since you're just wanting it to brighten up the office." Pepper glanced down at the papers in her arms.

"Good point. Dani?"

She looked up. "Huh?"

"If Pepper gets you the canvas, do you think you could work up something to make my office just a bit more cheery?"

She lit up, beaming. "Of course!"

"Alright. It's a plan, then. Tell Larry I'm not interested. What else?"

"The MIT commencement speech—"

"That's in June. I don't want to hear about it."

"Well, I have to hear about it, so this is only fair. They're bugging me and they want a confirmation."

"Fine, fine. Confirm." He rested a hand on Dani's head. "Is that it?"

"Almost." She held out a paper and pen towards him. "I need you to sign this. And then you can leave."

He took the paper and leaned over the table to sign it. "You seem a little more hasty than usual. What, you got plans today?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

Danielle nudged her dad as he handed the paper back. "It's her birthday," she whispered loudly.

"Oh? Really?" Tony looked up at Pepper. "Get yourself something nice from me."

"Already did. Danielle actually helped me choose it," she said cooly, looking through her papers one last time. "And that's it. You can head out with Happy and you, Danielle, get to come hang out with me."

"Tell Happy I'll be out in a minute," he said, waving to her and turning to his daughter. As Pepper left, he flicked his daughter's nose. "Now, no pranks like last time."

She pouted. "But you like my pranks!"

"I know. But what I don't like is Pepper complaining about purple hair for five weeks. If you do anything, make sure it's something she won't be angry about when I'm back in a couple day, sound good?"

"I hate rules," she whined, though a smile was pulling at her face. "What about Happy? Can I prank Happy?"

"Dani, you can always prank him. Open season on Happy year round. Got it?"

She grinned. "Got it."

"Good. Alright, bring it in, kiddo," he said, pulling her into a hug. "There we go." He pressed a dramatic kiss to her cheek, making her laugh. "Grab your stuff. Let's go."

She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Is it a long flight?" she asked, following him out the door.

"Pretty long, yes." He ruffled her hair.

Danielle squealed, ducking away and running her hands through her hair. "Hey!" She pouted, she moved away to stand beside Pepper. "So rude!"

He laughed, slipping on his sunglasses and opening the door of his car. "Love you, kiddo." He ducked inside and shut the door. Tony revved the engine and then peeled off. Danielle waved, laughing as Happy gunned it to try to catch up.

"Hey, Pepper?"

"Yes?"

"Do you wanna help me put itching powder in Happy's boxing gloves?"

Pepper stared at her for a long moment. Then she sighed. "No."

"Congratulations, Danielle. You have matched your high score with two point six miles."

She huffed, hopping down off the treadmill and wiping her face with a hand towel. "I thought I was going to beat it this time," she pouted, reaching for her water bottle.

"It is still impressive," JARVIS said. "You have been consistently at a twelve-minute mile for three months, now."

"I'm trying for eleven, though." She pulled at her shirt and tossed the towel aside in the basket. "What do you think for breakfast? Omelet? Spinach or bacon?" She left the gym and started up the stairs.

"There is no reason for why you can't have both."

"I like the way you think." She made it up to the living room to the sound of the TV going. "Good morning, Pepper."

Pepper jumped, snatching up the remote and turning off the TV. "Good morning, Danielle," she said, voice strained.

Danielle took a long drink from her water bottle, watching the woman. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Pepper set down the remote. "How was your workout this morning?"

Danielle moved to stand by the couch. "JARVIS, turn the TV on."

"Danielle, no—"

"Of course," he said.

The TV took just a moment to come back on. The camera panned over a large area of sand, littered with twisted metal and bodies. A newscaster was speaking over the image, but the voice was echoey and distant. Because all Danielle could focus on were the three words at the bottom of the screen.

Tony Stark Missing.