Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers or any other of Marvel's awesome shit

AN: Rated T for language. Read and enjoy.

My name is Rosalie Maria Grace and the day my mother went missing, Phil Coulson himself came to my door to tell me. My mom had been on a mission in Bolivia. She was looking into some kind of renewed Hydra activity.

I wasn't supposed to know about Hydra, but my mom and I had a pretty open relationship. She would tell me things so that I didn't go looking for them, and I would tell her everything so she never needed to worry. It wasn't always like that though.

I was thirteen the first time I semi-successfully hacked the SHIELD database to locate my mom. I say semi-successfully because 30 minutes after I got my information, two SHIELD agents were at my door demanding to know how I hacked it. Mom had been furious, but also kind of proud. She was mostly honest with me after that, and for that I was grateful. The only detail she would never share with me, was the identity of my father. She said he was a one night stand and far too irresponsible for children.

I had always been gifted with computers, but so was my mom. She worked resource repossession for SHIELD, hacking and stealing back information that fell into the wrong hands. That was how she went missing.

I got home from school that day after a long day of teachers, assholes, and other petty annoyances to be greeted by the sight of a SHIELD agent outside my apartment door. This wasn't overly unusual. Sometimes SHIELD would send someone to give me updates about my mom, or to tell me she would be out of contact for a little while, but I knew something was wrong this time. No one ever sent Phil Coulson out for simple updates.

"Why are you here? Did something happen to my mom?" I asked immediately after seeing Coulson's serious face.

"I'm sorry to tell you, Rosalie, but your mother went missing last night." Coulson told me with a solemn face. I didn't know how to process this, this wasn't real. This couldn't happen to me.

"Who took her? Where is she?" I demanded. He better fucking tell me. I can't even believe this is happening. This my worst nightmare.

"We have a general idea of where she is, and we know she's alive. It's going to take a while to get her out though. The rest is classified."

I gave him my best 'don't mess with me face' and said, "Agent, we both know I'm going to hack SHIELD for the information I need, I know you know I can. So why don't you save both of us some time and just tell me."

"Rosalie, you know that's illegal, and it's safer for you if you don't know." He said trying to placate me.

"Ignorance kills people, Coulson, it doesn't save them." I snapped.

Couslon ignored my outburst and continued with : "Your mother gave me a letter to give to you in case there was ever a chance she wasn't going to make it back."

I couldn't believe this was happening. I didn't even know where the fuck I was going to go.

"Phil, I don't have any other family. What's going to happen to me?" I asked cautiously, so scared that this would inevitability end up with me going to child services.

"I'm going to hold off the social workers for tonight, but they'll be here tomorrow. They will try to find anyone you might be related to first, then they'll go to close family friends."

"Okay." I said, unsure of what else I could say.

"We'll find her, Rose." Coulson said with a reassuring pat on my shoulder and then he was gone.

I couldn't name the feeling inside me, but it was more terrible than any I had ever experienced. I felt nauseous, and devastated, and nervous all warped up in one giant ball of sadness.

I opened the door to my apartment slowly setting down my book bag and other school books. I was still clutching my mom's letter in my hand and that hand was shaking.

I got the kitchen table and I poured myself the glass of wine I was going to need to get through this letter.

Rosalie,

I first want you to know, that no matter what happens, I love you. You are my favorite accomplishment, and the person I am most proud of. If anything ever happens to me, never forget that I love you, and that I will always be proud of no matter what.

I am writing you this letter in case I should die before I have time to tell you everything I need to tell you. You are my beautiful, intelligent, sarcastic daughter, and while I would love to say that you got all that from me, it's just not the case.

Your father is Tony Stark and yes, I do mean that Tony Stark. I never told you because at first I feared he would never be the father you needed, and later because I thought it unfair to make you worry about two parents in a life- risking line of work. I know that this is not necessarily right, but I truly believe I made these decisions with your best interest in mind. I planned to tell you on your 18th birthday, but if you're reading this now, it appears that is not a possibility.

I met Tony when I first started working for SHEILD. I was on a mission to get weapons details from him to find out what our enemies might be buying. I was different back then, more free, and much more fun. When we met, he was as taken by me as I was by him. It really was a one night stand, that's one detail I never lied about. He doesn't know you exist yet but he will.

If you are getting this letter, then one went to Tony as well. I want you to get to know him. I think it would be best for both of you. I love you, Rose, and I really hope you can forgive me someday.

With love always,

Mom

What the actual fuck?! My mom goes missing and decides to tell me my father is fucking goddamn Tony Stark. WTF? I downed the glass of wine trying to forget that this whole day ever happened.

Nope. No. I am not equipped to deal with this right now. I need to forget and I need to do it now. I tied up my long chestnut hair which was falling all over my face and went to the liquor cabinet.

The liquor cabinet which was never locked because mom trusted me. Well, I trusted her to always come back and then didn't turn out so great so screw it. I looked at the array of bottles and grabbed an unopened bottle of vodka and a paper bag.

I quickly dropped the vodka in the paper bad grabbed enough cash to check into a motel for the night and locked the door behind me. I did not want to be there in the morning if child services came to establish a temporary guardian, I just didn't.

I had been walking around Central Park with my totally classy Bag O' Vodka for a good hour now and it as going swimmingly if I do say so myself. No one was messing with me and I was pretending the whole day never happened so it was going as well as it could possibly be.

It was dark now and most of the people out and about were no longer out. I was still nursing my Bag O' Vodka in all of it's glory. Though it was now about half way gone and the world had been spinning for the last 40 minutes. But it's whatevers, I wasn't thinking about the incident anymore so I was happy as can be.

I didn't notice the man walking behind me until it was too late.

"Hey, sweet thing, why don't you swing those hips a little more." The man called from behind me. This was NYC so while not totally unusual, this still creeped me out unbelievably.

I needed a cab and I needed one now. The man was getting closer.

"Just go away, I don't want anything." I attempted to call without looking at him. I think I came out slurred, but I have no way of knowing.

"Dressed like that, I'd say you do." He leered. Eww, this guy was being mad creepy, and he was way to close. I chucked the Vodka bottle near his head, and missed completely. Sober me can't aim, it's no surprise drunk me is worse.

The next thing I knew, this man was pinning me against a brick alleyway and I thought it was over for me. I was either going to get robbed or attacked, or maybe both. I closed my eyes and tried to knee the bastard in the balls, but my knee only found air.

I looked up and I couldn't see exactly what was happening, but in a matter of seconds, my assailant was stuck to the brick wall behind me with some sort of webbed substance. I shouldn't drink so much, I think I'm starting to see shit. File this under notes for later.

With my captors gone I looked away from the wall to thank the last asshole in this city with any decency. The second I looked up the webs made sense, my savior was Spiderman.

"Is there someone I can call for you?" He asked.

"Holy shit! Dude, you're Spiderman." I said while pointing. I'm so observant, all the points to me.

"And you're drunk, nice to meet you." He smiled, and I decided I liked this asshole.

"Pshhh, I'm not drunk, I'm high on life... and probably adrenalin." The look on his face suggested that maybe he didn't believe me about not being drunk. Rude.

"Let's get you home. Where do you live?" He asked still smiling.

I gestured to the ally way as an answer just to be an asshole. "Everything the dark touches is my kingdom." I said in a terrible Lion King impression which I found hilarious. He did not share my enthusiasm.

"You're homeless?" He asked with some degree of concern while rubbing the back of his neck, wondering how he was going to help me now.

"Nah, man, I'm staying in a motel somewhere, but I can't really remember where and I don't know... I'm probably just gonna find a bench in a park or something." I Think I may have slurred some of that. Vodka is an evil mistress.

"You have to have somewhere to go, anywhere?"

I snorted, "You could take me to the Avenger's Tower, apparently I'm Tony Stark's bastard. I Found out today."

He looked me up and down and then he got this look of sudden clarity on his face, and it would have been hilarious had his next words not been: "You're the girl from the file Tony was looking at today!"

"What? No. I was kidding. Kidding. Don't take me seriously now, Spider-Dude. I'm drunk." I said trying to get away from this subject.

Plus, what the actual fuck did that mean? Why would Stark have my picture? I began laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

Spiderman was not feeling my amusement. He took one more look at me and then sighed and said, "Look, even if you're lying about being his kid, you can sleep it off in the Tower. No shelter is going to take you in while you're this wasted."

He then gripped me firmly around my waist and the next thing I knew we were swinging from the tops of buildings. It probably would have been mad cool if it hadn't been for the fact that the earth had already been all spiny when I was on the ground and it really wasn't getting better while I was in the air.

I think I blacked out while we were traveling because the next thing I knew, I was on top of the Avenger's tower and lo and behold the great Tony Stark himself was outside with goddamn Captain America.

Spiderman released me when we landed firmly on the ground, but my great savior didn't take my intoxication into account. I stumbled a couple of steps and then vomited all over Stark's shoes. Whoops.

"Is she okay?" Captain America asked with concern laced in his voice.

"She's a little drunk." Spider-Man said with a half shrug.

"Ah. I see she has some of my finer coping skills. Genetics, it really is a wonder." Stark said sardonically while removing his now ruined shoes.

I turned to Spider-Man, "Why the fuck did you take me here? I didn't actually want to meet this prick." How could he have not known I wasn't serious. Like dude, no. He was losing serious coolness points right now.

"Hey! The aforementioned "prick" is right here." Stark said having the gall to look affronted.

Captain America then gave Stark a look that communicated exactly how much of a help he was being. Stark stuck out his tongue in return. I got the feeling that these two frequently communicated like this.

I had finally finished vomiting all over the concrete roof top of the fucking Avenger's Tower, and now felt completely disgusting. Me and vodka are officially over. We are never, ever, ever getting back together. I snorted to myself at my own Taylor Swift humor.

Captain America looked to Spider-Man, "Why don't you get her to a guest room, this isn't going to get any more productive while she's intoxicated."

"You do realize 'she' is right here? Like I can talk and shit." I said indignant. These bastards are just ignoring my presence because I'm slightly drunk. Rude. This dude is supposed to be like the Stars and Stripes personified? Not feeling it.

"Com'on, Drunkie, you can be all beligerent and argue about everything later." Spider-Man said to me, gently shoving me toward the door.

AN: So... let me know what you think. I have tons more written, and if it's received well, I'll be overjoyed to share. Let me know. Constructive criticism and glowing reviews are always appreciated.