— marias always leave

and the clock read 8:12 when the first bullet pierced the car's right window. Followed by a second bullet that shattered the windshield. Six minutes was all it took for her to be six feet under.

One.

Happy Hogan lost control of the steering wheel and a loud panicked scream left the girl's mouth as the car collided with a tree nearby. Both bodies jolted forward, her head slamming with the front seat while his head slammed against the steering wheel.

Another scream erupted from her mouth as the car's front caught on fire. The bright orange reflecting on her dark blue eyes. The world seemed to spin around her and all she saw was fire.

Two.

"Happy!" A metal arm smashed the driver's side window and grabbed a merely conscious Happy by the throat. "Happy!" The girl cried out as the man opened the door and pulled Happy out of the car. His knees dropped to the ground as he gasped. The man's flesh hand yanked Happy by the hair.

Three.

Metal hit against flesh. Once. Twice. Tears dripped down her soft cheeks and muffled sobs escaped her mouth as the man dressed in black repeatedly punched Happy on the face. Her blurry sight tried to find the phone her dad had given her, her shaking hands desperately roamed through the belongings inside her suitcase. She grasped the phone and called her dad. Ring. Ring. Ring. But his voice never came.

Four.

Breathing heavily, she got out of the burning car with her pale hands balled up into fists. Her jaw was clenched and the tears kept on falling from her scared eyes.

"Stop! Please, stop." She pleaded.

Happy glanced at her in a mix of worry and horror. "D-don't touch her." He grunted as the man punched him again. "P-please, don't." The man's cold eyes stared at her.

Five.

Another punch and Happy fell unconscious. "Happy!" She was sobbing uncontrollably by now.

The metal armed man whirled to look at her. Her eyes widened and she gasped. She turned around and ran as fast as her trembling legs could carry her. However, she didn't stand a chance against the tall man and he grabbed her by the arm. She hissed in pain as the metal squeezed hardly. "Stop! Stop!" The dim street light reflected on her teary eyes, making them look like crystals. "Please, let me go."

Six.

His blue eyes shifted for a moment and he said, "I-I can't."

Her quivering bottom lip was stuck between her teeth as she tried to hold back the sobs. But they came out muffled anyway. "Please."

Her voice was so soft and barely above a whisper that the man's heart skipped a beat. He had heard that softness on a voice before, he had seen that look on a face before. He did not remember though. He didn't remember the other Maria Stark he had killed. Yet he felt something, something he hadn't felt in a long while. Guilt.

He looked troubled and confused as his eyes gazed at the pleading girl. Something told him to let her go. But he couldn't fail. He didn't fail, he never did. So he punched her nonetheless.

was eerily quiet. Not a sound was heard as the great Tony Stark sat on the stairs with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, drowning his sorrow.

He had been waiting for them outside Stark Industries. He had planned a little getaway for New Year's to New York, just he and his daughter. Happy was driving her from the mansion to the company's headquarters, but neither of them arrived.

Life took an awful twist and Happy was found inside the wrecked Rolls Royce in a state of comma. Arabella, however, was nowhere to be found. All that was left from her besides her suitcase was blood. They had found her blood on the back of the passenger's seat and on the ground. That was it. The police had informed Tony of the horrible news, asked a couple of questions and left. Pepper and Rhodey had rushed to the house immediately, worried for their Goddaughter. But Tony had sent them away, saying he needed time to think. What he meant by that was that he needed to drink.

So that's what he did. He drowned his grief and sorrows with endless bottles of alcohol. Only hoping that when he woke up with an indeed massive hangover, his daughter would be there. But no matter the amount of liquor he drank or how intoxicated he got, Arabella would still be gone. And he knew that.

She would still be gone, just like Nina and just like his mother.

He couldn't help but think that if he had answered her call he would've gotten there on time. His little eight-year-old girl would be alive and in New York with him, enjoying the snow and the lights. And if she were to be dead when he got there, at least he would've had a body to cry for. But he got nothing.

The police had reported Bella as a missing child. Tony had the whole FBI investigating the case, but the policeman had told him not to get his hopes high. He told Tony that there was a high chance that Arabella was dead, considering the amount of blood smeared on the road.

He didn't want to think about it. The idea of his daughter lifeless was something that made his stomach churn and made bile rise to his throat. His heart ached and his chest felt tight as he gulped down the bottle of whiskey.

It was his fault. It was all his fault.

He stumbled upstairs and entered the empty room. He wandered around Bella's bedroom, lightly touching her belongings with one hand as he held on to the whiskey bottle in the other. The tears had stopped falling, he thought they had run out, but coming to the room they decorated together was painful. So very painful it felt like it was killing him slowly.

Her flowery scent lingered in the air. He closed his eyes and he exhaled it deeply. That was a mistake. A series of things he wouldn't get to see flashed through his mind. He wouldn't get to see his little girl grow up. In fact, he wouldn't see her ever again. He wouldn't hug her again or hear her voice or tell her he loved her so much it hurt him.

Oh God, he wished he had told her how much he loved her when she was alive.

He took another gulp from the half-empty bottle and plopped on her red-covered bed.

Red. Her favorite color that just happened to be the color of the only thing they had found from her.

He just didn't understand. Why would lifr take her little girl away? Why would life, fate, destiny or whatever separate her from him? Why her? Why not him? Why couldn't life take another girl? Why would it take precisely his baby?

He gripped the bed sheets with his hand as a set of tears fell from his bloodshot eyes. A quiet sob escaped from his dry lips and all he could hear was her soft laugh. A laugh that was so similar to his mother's. Arabella reminded Tony of his mother in many ways. One of them being the way they both died. The way they both left him.

Perhaps he was cursed. After all, the Marias he had loved were always goners.

HI! Thank you very much for taking the time to read this. I really hope I portrayed the sadness good enough. So the special guest was none other than Bucky Barnes, and I made a parallel of the Starks' death and Bella's accident. The quote I used is by unknown. I hope you stick around!

Love, Lili

tales of sacrifice ; issue no. 1