"Natasha, can we go spar for a bit first?" I asked her when the Avengers had all left. "I know that I'm not suppose to, but I just…"

She seemed to know how I was feeling. "Yeah, I don't see a problem with it. Let's see how rusty you've gotten. We'll just have to watch your head."

It was comforting to be in the gym with Natasha again. The same blue mats, the feeling of open space despite the equipment. There was nowhere to hide, nothing could surprise me. Natasha took me through the same warm up routine as before everything had happened. I smiled to myself, remembering the girls in the Red Room and how I had adapted and taken them down. I didn't think I'd win against Natasha, but I bet I could hold my own against her now, or at least last longer than a minute.

Natasha took her stance, and I took mine. She didn't move a muscle, waiting for me to make the first move. I swung.

"Woah! Hang on, stop. What the heck are you doing right now?" she asked, grabbing my fist.

"What?" I asked her, irritated, keeping my guard up. I was sure it was a trap.

"Your technique- did you forget everything that I taught you?" she asked, sounding alarmed.

I flushed, embarrassed; she was right; the angle to hold my wrist so it wouldn't be hurt on impact was one of the first things she had taught me. I just looked at my feet. She was disappointed in me, that was obvious. After a second, I shrugged, trying to play it off. "No, I know! I don't need to practice. Come on Nat, let's just spar. Please? I need to blow off some steam." I peeked at her, sending the pouty face that usually got my way with all of the Avengers if I was stubborn enough.

But I should have known it would be pointless to try it; this wasn't Nat, my friend, this was Agent Romanoff, my teacher, and she looked at me sternly. "Um, no. Absolutely not. If you would have hit me like that, you would have hurt your wrist. Tape your hands and get over to the punching bag."

She turned toward the bag, and I got a really bad idea, but I knew it would force her into sparring with me, at least temporarily. I leapt at the back of the Black Widow, trying to kick her legs out. I succeeded; unfortunately, Natasha took me down with her, but she was graceful enough to make sure my head didn't hit the mat. I struggled, and she let me up, opening her mouth to say something- probably lecture me- but I attacked her again, trying to tackle her, knowing I wouldn't succeed.

She smirked, and a second later I was being held down in a half nelson hold, my face against the mat, my legs pinned by one of her knees. I couldn't move. I was completely contained.

"What're you gonna do now?" She asked.

But for whatever reason, my mind wasn't in the gym of Stark Tower.

I couldn't move and they were hurting me and I couldn't escape, the Avengers were dead and the metal armed man just kept hurting me…

I panicked, flailing, but it changed nothing about my predicament. "LET GO OF ME!" I yelled, hysterical as the memory of the torture room faded and I was back in the gym with Natasha. Natasha released me, and I backed away, on my feet, ready to fight or run. I felt my back bump into something and I shrieked, turned around and threw a punch at the person before realizing it was the punching bag, not an attacker. My wrist throbbed. Natasha had been right.

"Holly, what_"

I squeezed my eyes shut and ran my hands over my face, trying not to remember the Red Room, trying not to remember being helpless and handcuffed and tortured_

I yelped as Natasha grabbed the tops of my arms. "Holly, focus!" she barked. I realized I was starting to hyperventilate, and I tried to get a grip on myself.

Suddenly, Natasha looked furious. "So, you want to join the Avengers, but you refuse to learn proper technique and you still panic when you're fighting. At least now it's just when you're pinned." She shook her head. "You say you're fine, but you show classic symptoms of PTSD. Hell no, you're not ready to join. You've got a lot of work to do. Now, go tape your hands."

Out of shock more than anything, I listened to her. Natasha never got frustrated with me. Ever. And she was pissed.

After a dull hour of working on technique for hitting and blocking, I suddenly stopped and folded my arms. Facing her, I asked sullenly, "If I'm no good, then how come I was able to beat the other Red Room trainees? You came from the Red Room."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Yeah, we did some research on that program after Sokovia."

"What?" I interrupted. Mentally, I made a note to hack their research about my Red Room as soon as I had an opportunity; this was the first I'd heard about them doing research. Obviously, they hadn't thought to share it with me. Just like they hadn't shared my crazy growth spurt with me, I thought bitterly. "What else did you find out?"

Natasha smirked. "The other girls had only been in the program six months, and they were mostly there for the mutation. They didn't have much more fighting experience than you. The only reason they weren't mutated yet is because they wanted to test it first, and they were waiting to find you- you were the only American that they took, you know that? They wanted to be able to mutate everyone at the same time. When they found out you were Tony's daughter… well, you became the test subject. Patient 001."

I was quiet as I processed this. "I was on their radar before I came to Tempe. Tony said that this morning, that they came to my house… and they killed my stepfather." I inhaled sharply, feeling an ache, and I wondered why. I wasn't sad that he was dead; I hated the man. Hated him from the day I met him, when my mom went from being an okay mom- sure, she drank, she may have believed in the philosophy of booze before food- but she also played with me, took me to the library and the park. Then he came along, and she stopped trying. But he was dead now, and I realized; he was dead because of me.

My thoughts must have been written on my face, because Natasha stepped forward.

"It isn't your fault," Natasha said quietly, reaching her hand out towards me. I stepped back before she could put it on my shoulder.

"Kiddo," she said, and suddenly, Agent Romanoff was gone and Nat was back. "Come over here." She led me over to the water cooler in the corner, and as she was filling up a cup, she told me again, "It isn't your fault. Understand? You weren't the one that pulled the trigger."

"Then who's fault is it?" I asked tonelessly, ignoring her hurt expression. I sat down on concrete ground, ignoring the proffered cup, my head on my knees. Mumbling, I added, "If I had been there_"

Natasha sat next to me, but not close enough to make me uncomfortable. "Holly, if you had been there, he still would have been killed. The difference is that you would have been kidnapped and been a mindless Hydra drone right now, because we wouldn't have found you." Natasha's harsh tone softened. "It's okay to feel bad about it. I'm sure that if you asked Tony, he'd fly you to visit your mom and stepdad's graves. Get some closure, if that's what you want."

I lifted my head off of my knees and looked at Natasha without really seeing her. "I don't know where my mom was buried," I choked out, the memory sharp. "I wasn't invited to her funeral. I don't even know if she's cremated or buried or what." I shook off the icy feeling that I got whenever I thought about them, pulled myself together, and changed the subject. My tone cocky, I told her, "Anyway, I still beat them. The girls in the Red Room. And they'd still had some training. I'm not that bad."

Natasha didn't push the subject, thankfully. She offered me the cup of water again. This time, I took it. "Holly? They were your size. Good luck trying to beat an adult. You could pound on other kids your age, maybe. It wasn't your regular Red Room, kiddo. But that doesn't make your experience any better, I know," she added hastily. "The point is- Holly, you're not going to be fighting against other kids. You'd be fighting against people who are bigger than you and have years worth of experience. Do you understand?"

I knew she was right- I had to learn how to fight better. Without my suit, I was powerless. So if I could fight an adult successfully, I could go on missions with them? Sounded fair enough.

I nodded. "Yeah, I understand. Are you mad that I forgot the technique? I'm sorry. I'll try harder, I'll_"

Natasha shook her head and cut me off. "I'm not mad you forgot. I'm worried about you, because you're so convinced you can take on the word, and I don't want you to run into a fight and get hurt. You need to realize, you need to get this through to your thick skull- you are NOT ready to fight in the field. Not even close, and this proved it. I'm sorry for being so harsh. You Starks are just so good doing impossible things with technology, that sometimes you need a dose of reality when it comes to the fact that you're not invincible."

I contemplated this, then feigned innocence. "What? We're not invincible? Then why does the media call Tony the Invincible Iron Man, then?"

"Because the media lies." She grinned. "Go shower. You should have some new clothes by now. Meet me in the kitchen; We'll have lunch and then work on your alias."

Natasha's cooking skills were about on par with mine; they were practically nonexistant. Considering that neither of us really felt like waiting for takeout to come or putting out a fire, we decided to play it safe with sandwiches, Oreos, and at Nat's insistence, fruit. Natasha was cleaning up and I was sitting on the counter next to the sink, finishing up another lemon cookie flavored nutrition shake, when Phil Coulson showed up. He looked haggard; his tie was loosened, the first button of his shirt undone. But he smiled warmly when he saw me.

"Hey, Holly," He greeted me as he walked into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar. "Agent Romanoff," he nodded to Natasha as she dried her hands on a dishtowel. "Is Tony around? I just finished talking to child protective services." He scowled and a thrill of fear shot through me. "Don't worry, Holly- you're still not going anywhere. Not today, at least."

"Tony's with Fury and Steve," Natasha said, walking around the kitchen island to sit at the breakfast bar. I copied her, sitting on the other side of Coulson. "Remember? They're trying to do public opinion damage control. Glad I wasn't invited," she smirked. "Dealing with those two? Fury'd be pulling out his hair if he had any."

I smiled a little at that thought, but I couldn't help but worry. Coulson had brought back child protective services to the front of my mind. "What'd they say after I left?" I demanded.

He sighed. "I have to talk to your dad about it first, Holly. I'm sorry. But I'll tell you this right now- whether you like it or not, you need to listen to and do exactly what the Avengers, Fury, or I tell you. Understand? They're looking for a reason to take you away, and right now they have a case. Tou being in Sokovia and getting hurt does not bode well for Tony's parenting skills, they're trying to put you into the system- and if they take you into foster care, it'll be child's play for HYDRA to find you. Hell, I'm sure that the reason why they're coming after Tony despite his money and lawyers is that they have Hydra agents planted."

I was frozen, dread rushing through me. Natasha fixed me with a stare. "Holly, it's not going to come to that."

As much as I trusted Natasha, I knew logically that she couldn't possibly be sure that they wouldn't take me. She was just an adult trying to make a kid feel better right now. I looked at Coulson, thoughts racing. "Be honest- what's the chance of them taking me? What do I have to do so they won't?"

"There's no chance of them taking you, because we all know you'd run away first," Coulson said with a wry grin, causing me to calm slightly. They knew, they'd have a contingency plan. "You're not that hard to read. As for what you can do? Be a model kid," Coulson told me seriously. "Eat your green vegetables, listen to what we tell you, do your homework- and for your safety, don't leave the Tower without one of the Avengers, except for school. And even at school, we'll have people keeping an eye on you, making sure that you're safe. Understand?"

A cold shiver went down my spine. "Yes, sir," I told him.

"I'll have to video call Stark tonight, I've got to run. Holly, try not to worry, okay? Let the adults take care of it- let us take care of you." He turned to the elevator.

"Everything okay with you and your team?" Natasha asked as he pressed the button. "Anything I can help with?"

He looked at Natasha with eyes that seemed to be a million years old. "We lost one of our own, Nat. Jemma Simmons- remember her? Graduated early from the Science and Technology Academy."

Natasha face twisted in pain. "I remember her. I thought she and her friend were going to drive me nuts that time I guest lectured. I didn't know she moved into the field. I'm so sorry for your loss."

Coulson shook her head. "She's not dead, Nat. Lost. We're still trying to find her."

I felt doubly guilty that he was here for me when he had major trouble with his own team to worry about. "I'm sorry, Director, sir," I said. "I didn't mean to_"

"It's okay," he interrupted. He didn't look mad, just tired. "Just keep yourself out of trouble from now on, okay?"

I nodded. "Thank you, sir."

He grimaced. "Phil."

He left, and Natasha picked up the Stark Tablet lying on the counter. "Ready to make your fake identity?" She asked with a grin.

I tried to push CPS and the missing SHIELD agent out of my mind. Phil was right- if it came to it, I'd run. And I couldn't help the agent. Well… maybe I could.

"Holly?" Natasha asked, and I realized that I'd zoned off again.

"Sorry, I was just... thinking." A fake identity? Figures that as soon as I realized that I really liked being Holly Stark, I'd have to pretend to be someone else. "I guess so. How about Haleigh Stone?" I asked. "Same initials, Holly sounds kinda like Haleigh."

Natasha frowned. "It's almost too similar, but I agree that it might be safer in case you forget. Then you could just claim they misheard you if you told them your name was Holly by accident. So, Haleigh Stone." She typed commands into the Stark Tablet.

"Whatcha doing?" I asked, trying to peer at the screen.

"Making you some fake documents," she answered casually. "What day do you want your birthday to be?"

"How about December 25th? Easy to remember."

Natasha leveled me with a glare. "Holly, you're a genius, and you're about to go undercover, and you're trying to take the easy way out?"

"Fine!" I cast my mind around for a random date. "July thirteenth."

She mumbled in Russian under her breath and typed before looking at me analytically.

"What?"

"I'm trying to figure out the oldest we can make you without it being suspicious."

My expression brightened. "Can you make me sixteen, so I can have a driver's license?"

"Absolutely not." Her expression was amused, so I decided to keep it up, trying to make things less awkward after our discussion earlier about how I wasn't ready to be in the field.

"Please," I said rolling my eyes. "It's not that hard to drive."

Natasha fixed me with a gaze. "Have you actually ever driven a car before?"

I shook my head. "Nah. But if Steve can do it…"

"I don't think you could see over the steering wheel," she smirked. Before I could retort, Natasha flicked me in the ear. "Focus. I'm thinking the oldest we could put you at is fourteen, and that's pushing it, although with a July birthday, you'd have just turned fourteen. You can pull it off, and we could enroll you as a sophomore that skipped a grade. So, you were born in 2001 now. Got it?"

I nodded. At least I wouldn't be a freshman. "Got it."

Natasha was staring at me again. "Okay. So for your disguise- how do you feel about blonde hair and hipster glasses?"

"No," I said flatly.

"Too bad." She typed in a couple of commands, grinned, and then turned the computer around to show me a picture of a state-issued ID.

The picture was me, one that had been taken a few weeks ago. I wasn't smiling. Natasha had tweaked the picture so I had on black rectangle-frame glasses, blonde hair, and the scar on my face was gone. Unless you knew it was me, the contrast was weirdly extreme enough to fool anyone.

"Seriously? I look that different with just hair dye and glasses?"

Natasha laughed. "Haven't you seen Steve's 'I'm just a civilian' starter pack? Aviators and a ball cap and he's good to go, no one realizes he's the famous Captain America."

The elevator dinged before I could call her on her probably bull crap- no way that was true for Steve, there were just too many fangirls in this world- and Tony walked out. "Dad!" I exclaimed, running up to him.

"Hey, Holls, how was your day?" he asked, hugging me. I couldn't believe how good it felt- Before, Tony had been in the tower, so I had never been able to greet him when he came back. I hadn't greeted anyone like this since I was what, five? Six? It felt good to have someone excited to see me when they came home.

I pulled back and grinned at him. "Well, Natasha kicked my butt when we sparred, proving to me that I'm wrong and that I actually do need training, so that was fun," I couldn't help the irritation in my tone.

"Yeah, she does that to everyone, don't worry," Tony reassured me. "You guys figured out who you're going to be at school," Tony stated, seeing the pile of paperwork that Natasha had just printed out. "Who?"

"Haleigh Stone, a fourteen year old. You're officially the father of a teenager- congratulations," I smirked.

"Oh man," Tony whined. "I thought I still had another seven months before I had to deal with teenage angst!" He dramatically facepalmed before shooting me a cheeky grin. "Actually…" He trailed off, reading the fake birth certificate."Nat is," he announced, seeing the words 'Natalie Stone' typed on my fake birth certificate. "Have fun with that, Romanoff."

Natasha smiled, walking up to me and Tony. "Um, nope. You can handle the teenage angst. That's just pretend. I'm still the fun aunt," she protested.

With a smirk practically mirroring Tony's, I asked her, "Hey fun aunt, can I borrow your Widow's Bite?"

"No," Natasha said at the same time Tony said, "Only if you play a prank on Legolas."

I snorted. "Okay, who's the 'fun aunt'?"

Clint and Wanda walked out of the elevator as Tony and Natasha laughed. Clint was carrying a heavy-looking plastic shopping bag. "Present for you, Stark," he said, chucking it at Tony, who caught it reflexively and peeked in the bag.

With a look of disgust, Tony put the bag on the counter. "You got me parenting books?!"

"You got him parenting books?" Natasha and I echoed, her tone amused, mine affronted.

"What? The social workers are gonna be back. You need all the help you can get."

Everyone stared at Clint in disbelief, except Wanda, who was laughing.

It was good to see Wanda laughing, and I bantered, "Maximoff! I thought you were on my side!"

She shot me a friendly grin. "Sorry, Stark. Payback for scaring me in Sokovia. I almost tore you in half, you know!"

I stuck my chin in the air, feigning indignance, as I told her, "Please, Maximoff. You and me, anytime, sparring." But I smiled at her after that, so it'd be obvious I was joking. It was so great to see Wanda without the mask of grief.

"At the risk of breaking my tower, I'm gonna say that's a no. Go get ready for the press conference, Holls."

My grin faded. "Man. This is gonna be a bitch, isn't it?"

"That's a dollar in the swear jar," Tony told me. "And yeah, it will be, but it'll be over soon. And I'll be with you, it'll be okay. Just be yourself. Except with the swearing. And the stupid impulsive decisions thing. And the_"

"Okay, I get it! Don't be you."

I stared out at the army of reporters, completely at loss for words. Tony and I were sitting on a raised platform, with Happy and Pepper standing off to the side. I saw Natasha, Steve, and Clint hanging out incognito in the audience. Bruce and Thor were providing intel from the top of the tower; everyone, besides me, had a comm link in. I felt ridiculous; I was wearing an Abercrombie tank top, dark skinny jeans, and sandals. I couldn't fight in this! But hopefully, I wouldn't have to, although I would almost prefer to be back on Sokovia than doing this press conference right now. After Tony had introduced me, the reporters had swarmed with questions.

"Ms. Stark, what made you decide to join the Avengers?"

"Ms. Stark, did your father train you to be an Avenger?"

"Ms. Stark, how do you feel about Tony's girlfriend?"

"Ms. Stark, is it true that you're trained by Captain America?"

"Ms. Stark, do you have a boyfriend?"

"Ms. Stark, Where do you plan on attending university?"

"Ms. Stark, is Tony a good father?"

Tony seemed to be in his element amongst this storm of reporters. Classy as always in a grey suit, white dress shirt, and blue tie, he put his hands up. "Ladies and gentlemen, I assure you that you'll get the answers that you want. Let me just say this first- make my daughter feel uncomfortable, and you'll regret it." His tone went from joking to playful. "And no, she definitely does not have a boyfriend, she's twelve for Pete's sake." He glared at the man that asked that question. That reporter squirmed as the rest laughed good naturedly.

Tony looked at me. "Go ahead, kiddo."

I squirmed, feeling their eyes on me. "Um, well, I guess I should say first that I am definitely not an Avenger."

The crowd broke out into muttering, and I had a sudden stroke of inspiration. "You guys seriously think Tony'd let me join the Avengers? No way. He's a lot of things, but irresponsible father is not one of them. Playing a prank on Captain America or hiding the God of Thunder's favorite snacks, fine. But he would never let me go into a combat area. Heck, he freaks out when I climb up onto the counter to reach a kitchen cupboard because he's worried I'm gonna fall," I lied smoothly, smirking the trademark Stark smirk. Technically, Pepper was the one that had freaked out when I'd done that about an hour ago. Not my fault that the Oreos were up there. Natasha was just trying to hide them from Thor.

"Then why were you in Sokovia?" a female reporter shouted out. The crowd went silent, waiting for my reply with baited breath.

"I'm a Stark," I said flatly, raising my eyebrows. "Do you honestly think, if I want to do something, that anyone on this planet could stop me? I wanted to go help them save the world, so I did. But I took a beating, because it was stupid of me, and it was dangerous. I understand that. I'm done with that for now- I want to go to university, get my degree. I'm thinking bioengineering."

"That was brutal," I muttered, head throbbing as I sat down at the kitchen table in the Stark floor. "Like, I totally feel violated. I hate people. I really, really hate people. How do you deal? No privacy."

"You separate yourself from the real you and the you that you show the press. And you did a good job, Holly," Tony praised.

"I basically lied to them the whole time."

"Yeah, well, luckily you can lie to people you don't care about pretty efficiently. Either way, mission accomplished, kid, they love you. I'm starving. What do you say about going out for dinner tonight? Just the three of us."

I smiled, trying to relax. A family dinner with just Tony, Pepper, and me? "Yeah, definitely."

Tony grinned back at me. "Great! Oh, yeah, before I forget_" He flipped an object toward me; Nova's chip! Although now, it was completely cleaned up, slightly smaller and thinner, and silver in color. If you didn't look at it closely, it almost could be considered a square-shaped silver dollar. 'NOVA' was engraved on it.

"Thought you'd miss her, kiddo," he told me as I caught it reflexively. "And I'm in the process of wiring your room so you can plug her in and use her as your personal assistant instead of Friday. In the meantime, her consciousness will still show up when you want it to."

I was quiet, not sure how to express to Tony how much this meant to me, giving me my AI friend back- but one look told me that he completely got it.