Lost Girl, Gone Girl

January 1992

Sofia Collins Stark was curled up in her bed, out cold after crying until she exhausted herself. Downstairs, the Stark brothers sat together at the kitchen table. Needless to say, Sofia had not taken the news of moving well.

Howie sighed. He had not been looking forward to telling Sofia they would be moving to the Stark Mansion in New York City. He had stalled for two days but the move was inevitable.

He needed help taking care of Sofia, getting to and from the doctor, and walking literally anywhere; and Tony had the company to think about and would not be able to stay in Massachusetts.

None of that had mattered to Sofia. She had cried and cried when she realized she would have to leave her home, her yellow-walled bedroom, her stray cat with his fancy name, and everything else that was comfortable and known.

She knew the Stark Mansion to an extent. She knew its grand, sweeping corridors and sprawling gardens. She knew it in the same way someone knows a vacation house. It is familiar but not known. Not like home.

Sofia Stark was always a rather emotionally intelligent child. Speech came quickly to her, as did complex thought, but she was still a child who did not like change.

She liked her home. She did not want to leave it. It would not be permanent but when six months was 12.5% of someone’s previous lifetime, it felt like forever.

“It’ll be alright,” Tony told his brother.

“I hate to move her like this when she’s having to process what death is. She’s just a kid.”

“It’s for the best. You can’t take care of her alone and I can't stay here.”

“Thank you. For being here now.”

“I’ve got your back, Junior. Don’t doubt that.”

“I would never.”

The move to the city was not made any easier by Sofia’s obvious reluctance. She dragged her feet whenever she could, cried a lot and complained even more. For a child normally so agreeable, it was a much unwanted change.

“Sofia, you can bring all the stuffed animals you want,” Tony had tried to explain to her.

“But if I bring them all who will watch the house? Who will protect my room?!”

“Nothing is going to happen—“

“But if I leave them behind they’ll think I left them on purpose. I can’t abandon them!”

It took the better part of two days to pack Sofia’s room. She would not permit the movers to handle her things, so Tony was on Sofia duty while Howie was fine letting the movers do their work with his own belongings.

Clothes, books, stuffed companions, and other personal belongings were all eventually packed up and on their way to the Stark Mansion. Sofia watched through the front window in despair as the moving truck drove away from her house.

Her uncle knelt down beside her. “Hey, kiddo.”

The house was not empty; Sofia and her dad were not leaving forever. But Sofia hated the idea of leaving for a long time.

“You ready to go?"

“Do you promise we’ll come back?”

“Of course, we will.”

“You gotta pinky promise.”

Sofia held her littlest finger out with a serious look on her face. Pinky promises were something sacred to Sofia Stark. She would never ever break them. Ever. She expected the same from others.

Tony wrapped his pinky finger around hers. “I pinky promise that you and your dad will come back to live here once he gets better.”

That satiated her enough to move outside and let her uncle lock the front door behind them. Tony buckled her into her car seat and joined his brother in the front.

An hour and a half later, the Starks pulled into the mansion’s garage. They were greeted by Mr Jarvis. Tony greeted him as he got out to help Howie out of the car.

The elder brother’s full limb cast meant he would be bound to a wheelchair or crutches for several months as the fractures and breaks in his left leg mended themselves. The injury was only made worse by what had been hours of walking on it prior to treatment.

He could get around well enough on his own. Taking care of a four-year-old was a whole other story.

“Hello, Mr Jarvis,” Sofia greeted him politely.

“Hello, Miss Stark. We’re very happy to have you here.”

Jarvis (and the rest of the staff, by default) had been briefed on Howie’s condition and on Sofia’s attitude about moving. They knew to treat them accordingly.

Howie hopped around a bit, trying to position his crutches under his arms. He had never had to use crutches before. He had never broken a bone before.

The worst injury he’d ever sustained was a sprained ankle after tripping on the bleachers at a football game in college. This leg thing was a dark smudge on his previously pristine medical record.

Sofia haunted her dad and uncle’s footsteps as they made their way to Howie’s old bedroom. She stayed silent, carrying SJ under her good arm.

She vaguely remembered the hallways they took to get to her room. She remembered that her room was right next door to her dad’s and two doors down from her uncle’s. Grandpa and nonna's room was at the end of the hallway, door closed.

Once they'd found themselves in their rooms, Tony left them in favor of his workshop. Howie's things were already unpacked and put away but Sofia's had been left in the suitcases and boxes they had come in, per her request that strangers not handle her belongings.

Sofia began dutifully unpacking, starting with the most important things like her stuffies and her science kits. They went on the too big bed and the large wooden desk, respectively.

After about thirty minutes of this, Sofia got bored.

Genius children come in all sorts of temperaments. The Starks are well aware of that fact. First, there was mild-mannered Howard Jr, then confident chatterbox Anthony, and now sweet and independent Sofia.

Regardless of IQ level or personality traits, all children need stimulation. All children need play. All children are born naturally curious, wondering at the world about them. A world that they still do not know or fully understand.

Why would Sofia pace around in her room putting things away with only one good arm when she could be exploring the giant mansion that she was now living in? She had been to the mansion before when her father needed to visit the city for work but she only truly spent time in the entryway, day room, dining room, and her and her father's bedrooms.

Now, she would be here for an undetermined number of months. She had thought perhaps if she whined enough, she would be permitted to stay in her home in Cambridge; her fate now seemed sealed in New York City.

She may as well make the best of it and explore her new home.

“Daddy?” Sofia poked her head into her father's room.

He was going over paperwork at his desk. “Yeah, babygirl?”

“Can I go exploring?”

She was already wearing her adventuring hat (a fisherman's hat made of yellow linen). Her yellow satchel was already packed with her flashlight, magnifying glass, and bandana. She held SJ in her good arm. Her traveling companion.

Howie smiled at her. "Of course. This is your house now, too. You can go anywhere you want."

Sofia's eyes lit up and she disappeared out of the doorway.

Her first day in the Stark Mansion, Sofia found thirty four rooms she'd never been in before, including but not limited to eight unoccupied bedrooms, two game rooms, the pool room, a room with a pool, the library, a second day room, and her grandpa's office.

She was so busy exploring her new home that she forgot to eat lunch, so once dinnertime rolled around, she was starving. She was also very lost.

Sofia had learned to read clocks when she was three. With the little hand on the "7" and the big hand now nearing the "2," she knew she'd been wandering around trying to find the dining room for nearly ten minutes. She was officially late for her first dinner in the mansion.

Normally, eight minutes would not bother Sofia. Normally, she would not be discouraged by not meeting her goal exactly as she had hoped. Normally, she would remember her dad's calm reminder that "failure was part of the scientific process."

But normally, she was home in Cambridge. Normally, her dad was able to come find her if she got lost. Now, she had neither of those things.

So, Sofia sat down in the corner of the drawing room, pulled her knees to her chest, hugged SJ, and cried. The whimsy of her massive new home was not completely gone but she was hungry, tired, lost, and she missed home.

The big hand had touched three, meaning it was a quarter past seven when the shouts started.

"Miss Stark?"

"Miss Stark!"

A chorus of people calling for her told her that the staff had been sent in search of her. But Sofia did not know the staff. She did not want one of the three maids or the cook or even Mr Jarvis. She wanted dad.

One of the maids whose name Sofia did not know yet came into the drawing room. She searched the room but missed the dark corner beside the curio cabinet and behind the green armchair. After all, why would a lost little girl hide from someone trying to find her?

In the end, it was Tony who found Sofia. He had grown up in this place and knew all the little nooks and crannies to hide. Howie was looking as well, but he was making slow progress with his crutches.

Tony, too, entered the drawing room and checked under the couch and behind the doors. He almost left just as the maid had when he remembered a particularly good hiding spot that he had found during one of his and Howie's many rounds of hide and seek.

The hidden corner of the drawing room had been almost too small for a nine-year-old Tony Stark but would have plenty of room for an undergrown four-year-old. Sure enough, Tony leaned over the back of the armchair and found Sofia curled on her side with her stuffed rabbit, asleep.

Tony loosed a tense breath.

He pulled the chair away from the wall and scooped Sofia into his arms. He was too relieved at finding her to notice when SJ fell to the floor.

Sofia stirred at being moved.

“I got you,” Tony said.

She groggily asked, "Daddy?"

"No, it's Uncle Tony."

Sofia whined, wriggling in her uncle's hold.

"Calm down, squirt. I'm bringing you to your dad. Everybody's out looking for you."

They passed a clock that read half past eight. She’d been missing for an hour and a half, scaring her family and the house staff half to death.

Sofia sniffled. "I missed dinner."

"It's alright. We'll get you something to eat."

The staff quickly learned of Sofia's being found. Howie limped into the dining room accompanied by Jarvis ten minutes later to find Sofia dejectedly eating a grilled cheese at the dining table.

"Sofia," he sighed out in relief.

"Daddy!"

Sofia ran to him and wrapped her arms around his good leg. He could only cradle her head with his hand at this angle, his crutches and casted leg hindering much beyond that.

"Where were you, babygirl?" Howie asked.

"I got lost. I was scared. I waited for you to find me."

Sofia had her face tucked against Howie’s leg and didn’t see the pained look that crossed his face when she said that. This further proved the need to move here; he couldn’t keep up with her while he was injured.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” he said. “Next time, stay in the hallways. Someone can find you easier that way.”

“Okay.”

Sofia finished her late dinner and went straight to her room to go to bed. It wasn’t until after she was changed into her pajamas that the loss of her companion was noticed.

“What are you looking for?” her dad asked her after she had checked under the bed and in the closet for the second time.

“Sofia Jr! I can’t find him.”

“Sofia, babygirl, we can look for him tomorrow. I promise nothing will happen to him—“

“But I need him!”

For the life of him, Howie could not figure out what it was about this particular stuffed animal that had Sofia unwaveringly obsessed with it. All he knew was that she had not gone anywhere without it since she was gifted it in the hospital six days ago.

“Do you know where you left him? Is he in the dining room?”

“No…”

“Where did you have him last?”

“In the room with the green armchair. And the fireplace.”

(Sofia was unaccustomed to the large house and didn’t know that the drawing room was called the drawing room.)

“Was there a painting over the fireplace?”

“No.”

“Okay, come on. Let’s go get your bunny.”

Howie started to get up just to have his daughter get in his way, forcing him into sitting back down.

“No, you stay here. You shouldn’t be walking too much. I can go get him.”

“Are you sure you know the way? I don’t want you getting lost again.”

“I know how to get there. I’ll be right back.”

She was gone before he could argue further.

Due to getting horribly lost earlier, Sofia made a point to note every twist and turn she had taken after being found. She remembered how to get to the dining room, and from there she could remember how to get to the room she’d fallen asleep in.

There, behind the green armchair in the corner and between the wall and the curio cabinet, laid Sofia Jr. Sofia scooped him up, straightened his long ears, and kissed his forehead.

“Sorry, I left you behind, friend. I’ve got you.”

Sofia found her way back to her room. Her dad was still sitting on her bed. He smiled at her return, only a few minutes after her departure.

"Ready, now?"

Sofia nodded and climbed into bed.

Even with a half-crippled leg, Howie was determined to be able to tuck his daughter into bed. So, he did. He pulled her covers up and helped her get nestled in with the blankets under her feet to keep warm.

"Comfy?"

"Mhm."

"Are you still tired after your little nap earlier?" Howie dug his fingers under the covers to poke at Sofia's sides as he teased her.

She laughed and squirmed away. "Yes! I'm tired."

Howie relented. He fixed her blankets and smoothed her hair out of her face.

"I love you, babygirl," he said. "More than anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything. More than the stars and the moon. More than the sun. More than the whole world. You're my whole world."

Sofia smiled sleepily up at him, eyes already half-closed. "I love you, too, daddy."

Howie leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Goodnight, babygirl." Before he left, he kissed SJ on the head as well. "Goodnight, Sofia Jr."

Sofia's giggles followed Howie's crutch-assisted exit from the room.

Sofia spent her days wandering her new home, memorizing the layout, discovering every hidden passage, familiarizing herself with all the nooks and crannies she came across. She was a silent presence pittering to and fro without real purpose.

Some of the staff had been worried about having a little girl running free in the house but she proved to be no problem at all. Most days, they didn't see her save for at meals.

They realized after a few days that it had become something of a game for Sofia to avoid being seen by the staff. She was a terribly shy girl who preferred to try and sneak an apple from the kitchen rather than ask Chef Alex for anything, but she was still playful.

The staff played along, sometimes pretending to be ignorant of her presence even if they knew she was just hiding under the side table, one of her bunny's legs sticking out too far not to notice.

It was Ellie, the head maid, who was first to try and play with Sofia.

She entered the day room to dust the drapes on day six of Sofia and her father’s stay, two weeks after the funeral and the second Stark car accident. Ellie was sure she had heard a small voice talking from inside the room but when she looked around, she saw no one.

Then, she noticed the ends of someone's long, dark hair poking out from under the couch along with a book about space laying open on the bay window seat with a stuffed rabbit seated beside it. The imprint on the window's cushion from its previous occupant had not yet receded to its normal shape.

Ellie hummed to herself and began her dusting.

Eloise Doyle had worked for the Starks as a maid since she was twenty. Now, at the age of fifty eight, she had dealt with her fair share of Stark children.

Ellie had been a maid during the entirety of Howie and Tony's childhoods. She knew that there was a certain balance to find between treating a young genius like the child they were and like someone with immense intelligence.

But all children thought they were cleverer than they were, IQ regardless.

Ellie dusted and pretended to be unaware. "What a sunny day. It looks like someone left their book in the window. But no one is here. Unless... Miss Stark, is this your book?"

Sofia was quiet for a moment, then gave a quiet, "Yes..."

"Miss Stark? Where are you? There's no one in here."

Ellie made a show of walking all around the room, giving the couch a wide berth.

"Miss Stark? Are you in here?"

"Yes." Sofia was giggling.

"But where are you? Have you learned how to turn yourself invisible?"

"Not yet."

"'Not yet,' she says. Well, I'll be.” Ellie sat her hands on her hips. “Looks like I'll just have to take your book and your bunny back to your room since you're too busy practicing being invisible."

"No, wait!"

Sofia rolled out from under the couch and scurried over to the bay window, throwing her arms over her book and rabbit so Ellie would not move them.

"You weren't invisible at all!” Ellie exclaimed. “Were you hiding this whole time?"

Sofia tucked her face into the window seat cushion, shy and also a bit embarrassed.

"Why were you hiding, Miss Stark?"

Sofia said something quiet and muffled.

"What was that, Miss Stark?"

"That's not my name," Sofia said, louder.

"Isn't it?"

"My name is Sofia. Everyone calls me Sofia, but everyone here calls me Miss Stark. But my name is Sofia."

"Do you want me to call you Sofia?"

"Yes."

"Alright, then, Sofia. Why were you hiding? Were you scared?"

"No... I didn't want to get in the way. You and the others are always busy and I don't want to bother you."

Ellie had not been expecting that answer. She had thought that the hiding was all because Sofia was shy and wanted to have a bit of fun. Instead, she had been trying to be considerate of the staff as they worked.

Ellie might have to adopt this girl right out from under Howie Stark's nose.

"Sofia, dear, you don't have to worry about bothering us. We work for your family and it's our job to stay out of your way. And we would love to get to know you. After all, we're here practically every day, and so are you. Would you like to get to know us?"

Sofia nodded.

"Well, how about today, you just get to know me? I'm Ellie. I'm the head maid."

"It's nice to meet you. What's a head maid?"

"There's three of us. Three maids. I'm in charge of the other two. I make sure the three of us are doing everything we're supposed to."

"So, you're in charge?"

"I'm in charge of the maids," Ellie corrected her. "And Mr Jarvis is in charge of all of the staff. And your dad and uncle are in charge of Mr Jarvis."

"They're in charge of me, too. That means I'm a butler."

Ellie laughed. "No, you're their daughter and niece. A butler is a job. They are someone who is hired to do things for someone and keep house."

"So, I'm not a butler."

"No. But I think you'd make a fine butler if you ever were one."

February 1992

Sofia led the charge through the many hallways of the Stark Mansion. She was practically skipping on her way to the mansion's indoor swimming pool. There was snow falling outside but Sofia and Howie Stark were clad in bathing suits on their way to go swimming.

At least, Sofia was; the eldest Stark was still in a full-leg cast that could not get wet. Even going into the pool house was a bit iffy but he decided to risk it in order to spend time with (and supervise) his young daughter.

After her checkup yesterday where Sofia had been told her collarbone had finally healed after an extended period of recovery, especially for a child her age, she had been dead set on finally using the mansion's indoor pool.

Sofia pushed the door into the pool house open and held it for her father. Inside was like a sauna. The pool itself was heated and the hot tub in the corner even more so.

The arched glass ceiling was foggy with interior condensation and melting snow from outside. The brick walls were warm to the touch, as was the tile floor. There were four removable sliding glass doors that led out into the gardens beyond, all closed to keep the winter chill out.

Sofia giggled at the absurdity of being able to go swimming in such a warm environment while it was snowing just a few yards away.

Across the room, one of the maids was waiting. Renata Dostoyevsky was the house's newest hire, a young woman in her early twenties freshly emigrated from Russia. She was out of her normal collared tunic and pants, instead wearing a pair of shorts over her one piece bathing suit.

"Hello, Renata!" Sofia called to her.

"Hello, Sofia," Renata said as she approached, voice heavy with a Russian accent. "Mr Stark."

"Renata. Thank you for offering to help watch Sofia.”

Renata had been temporarily contracted as a pseudo-lifeguard. Howie would be unable to get in the water should anything happen to Sofia while she was swimming, so he had requested an extra set of fully functional limbs to help keep an eye on her.

“It is no worry, Mr Stark. Really. Getting to relax here is better than shining silver.” Renata blanched. “Not that I do not appreciate being able to work for your family! Really. I like this job. I—I meant—I do not know what I meant but…”

Howie laughed off her worries. “No, I understand. You’re basically getting paid to go swimming.”

Renata gave him an appreciative look. “Yes. That is what I meant to say.”

“Yes, well, thank you, regardless.”

Howie made a home for himself on one of the cushioned couches against the wall. Sofia was next to him, pulling his shirt over her head and setting it beside her towel.

She pulled her goggles over her eyes. She didn't care that it made her hair mushroom away from her head hilariously when she situated them before running and jumping into the pool.

Renata laughed and shed her shorts to join her, though she chose the much milder route of entering via the stairs.

Howie watched Sofia splash and play with fondness written plain on his face, shadowed only by the slight apprehension of a parent watching their child do an activity where something could possibly go wrong. Though Sofia was a strong enough swimmer, there was only so much she could do with only one good lung.

Sofia was born nearly two months premature. There had been plenty of complications during the pregnancy and at only thirty two weeks, Sofia was born at three pounds and ten ounces, measuring at only thirteen and a quarter inches long.

For having a massively underdeveloped lung amongst many other medical complications, Sofia was a surprisingly healthy young girl. She was growing smaller and weaker than others in her age group but she could run and jump and play just about the same as other children (even if she did have to stop to use the inhaler when she overdid herself).

The typical terror of being a parent was multiplied tenfold in Howie Stark. He was constantly afraid she would hurt herself or get sick due to her weak immune system or drown in a pool thanks to only having about half normal lung capacity.

He tried his best not to "helicopter parent" but it was hard. Especially after recent events, he felt the constant fear of something going wrong and him being unable to keep her safe. His damaged motor skills were not helping to ease his worries.

Luckily, there were other ways he could keep Sofia safe. Such as calling in favors or pulling the house staff away from their actual jobs just so his daughter could have a bit of fun.

Howie sometimes wondered if the terror ever faded. If the fear of something happening to his kid would ever stop being all-consuming. He doubted it.

“INCOMING!”

Tony ran into the pool house and bailed into a backflip before splashing down upside down in the water. Evidently, he’d gotten home from the Stark Industries meeting he had been attending.

With Howie’s injury and lack of interest in running or working for SI considering his own career path as a professor and researcher at MIT, and with Tony too young and underprepared to take over the company immediately, it had been decided that Howard Stark Sr’s business partner and old friend Obadiah Stane would run the company as Tony got situated for the role of CEO.

The company could take a backseat. For now, Tony was busy scooping up his madly giggling niece and tossing her back into the pool.

“Careful with her,” Howie called anxiously.

“Aw, she’s alright." Tony swam over to where Sofia resurfaced, still in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, I’m alright! Do it again, Uncle Tony!”

“If you insist.”

Tony dove under the water to get underneath Sofia, pushing her up into the air. She went flying and landed in the water a little ways away.

Renata laughed and lifted Sofia up to the surface.

She remembered what Ellie had told her when she first got hired. “The Starks are rich and famous and the whole lot of them are geniuses, but they are still just a family.” Renata was realizing that the Starks truly were just that: a family, and nothing less.