She stood outside Stark Tower, looking up the many floors. She took a deep breath and held her jacket close to her, pushing through the doors to escape the cold New York snow. "Welcome to Stark Tower" a disembodied voice with a British accent chimed. Heather jumped, cursing under her breath. She shook snow out of her hair with her left hand, and proceeded on through the entrance of the building.

"Hello?" She called.

"Are you here for Mr. Stark?" The same British voice replied.

"Uhm…" She pulled out the paper in her coat pocket, searching for the name. "I'm looking for a Dr. Banner."

"That'd be level 21, experiment labs. The elevator is to your left."

"Thank you," She smiled as she bounced to the elevator.

"You're quit welcome Ms. Banner." Heather froze with her finger on the call button. She twirled around, forgetting there was no one there. "How'd you know me?" She asked the air, but the man didn't reply. Heather blinked a few times before slowly sliding back to the elevators.

DING!

She stepped onto the elevator, absent mindedly running into someone who was getting off. It was a tall man with short, messy brunette hair. He was wearing sunglasses and had a bow in his hand. Heather gulped. Why would someone just have a bow? She shook it off and pressed the 21 button, turning to the glass wall in the elevator.

The view was of beautiful New York City. Well… of reconstructing beautiful New York City. The damage from the Loki attack was pretty intense, and every day for the last couple of months has been a small dent in the clean-up. Stark got to work quickly with his tower, or so it seemed, since it was the only complete building in the whole New York City. Debris still covered the sidewalks, pushed over so cars could get by. New York cursed Loki for what he had done. Everyone but... well, me.

Heather was not some sadist who agreed with Loki, but she was someone who would have never been the same if it hadn't happened.

Two months ago.

"Heather, I need you to come home now. Something is happening in New York City, some kind of Alien attack." My mom nearly cried to me on the phone. I had been staying in New York City with my friend and her mother for the summer. September was rearing its ugly head when an alert hit New York, an alert that we all shrugged off. "Heather, please." She begged. I rolled my eyes.

"Aliens aren't going to attack us, and if they do, we have Iron Man right there, he'll save us." Without waiting for my mom to talk, I ended the call. She needed some time to calm down. Maybe I'd call her tomorrow and tell her I survived. I turned on the television, just to be in the know, when I heard a giant boom outside my house. I rushed over to the window and nearly passed out at what I saw. Buildings were ruined, the street looked un-walk able. I saw a red stream that unmistakingly blood. Quickly, I closed the curtains and ran back to the couch, turning on the television. Iron Man streaked across the screen in a red and gold line, and Thor (I watched the newscast from New Mexico last year) was there too. This is bad. There was a guy at the top of a skyscraper, attractive, with short brown hair, shooting arrows at the aliens. Someone I didn't recognize. There was another person she didn't remember, a redhead, from the looks of it, no powers, just training. Next to her was… Captain America? I thought he was dead in the 1940's. It must take a lot to make five superheroes to take this guy down.

That's when I saw him. Big and green, unmistakable, the Hulk, my father… Bruce Banner. After falling off the face of the earth, I found him, or rather, he found me. He's in New York City. He's here.

DING!

The elevator brought Heather back to reality. She glanced up at the floor number. "21." She sighed, walked through the open doorway. The lab was very… white, y'know, aside from all the Iron Man suits on the wall. She searched around looking for her father. She ran her hand against the smooth surface of the tables and walked towards the man in the lab coat. On the way over, her hand caught on a test tube. It fell and shattered on the floor. "Move away from it!" a man yelled at her. She quickly jumped back, throwing off her shoes so the liquid didn't seep through to her feet. She watched him, who she now recognized as Bruce, clean up the spill. "That could've been bad." He chuckled and held out a hand. She took his hand in hers and shook firmly. That's when she first saw his face. He was worn, with graying brown hair and soft brown eyes. Yet his eyes were tired and held pain in them. She wanted to tell him right there that he was her father, she wanted to hug him and cry and tell him everything about her. But no, she had to do this delicately.

"What brings you here, ma'am?" He asked, retracting his hand.

"Oh, uh. I come with news for you." He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Your, uh, friend, um, Sarah," She coughed a bit, holding back tears.

"Sarah Franklin?" He asked.

"Yes, well… She recently died of cancer."

"Oh my, that's terrible."

"Yes, well… she had a daughter…"

"I'm aware."

"Who was also… your daughter." His eyes widened.

"M- My daughter? What happened to her?"

"Well, she is being sent here, to live with you."

"I... uh oh," He sighed. "I don't think that's a good idea, though. You see, I have a... a condition, that isn't very… safe around anyone." He scratched at the back of his head. "A daughter, huh?" Heather nodded.

"Well, I'm sorry, but Sarah can't just dump a child on me. Especially now." Heather's heart snapped in two as tears began streaming down her face. She raced towards the elevator, wiping away at her face.

"I never got your name!" Bruce shouted at her.

"Heather. Heather Banner!" She screamed as the elevator doors closed.