Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. from the Marvel Cinematic Universe are the property of Marvel Entertainment and its affiliates, and are used here without permission. This story is purely a work of creative expression for entertainment purposes only. The original characters, plot, and certain situations are the creation of the author. This work is not intended for commercial use, and no profit is being made from its publication. No copyright infringement is intended.

I hope you enjoy :)

Chapter 1

The heavy oak door to Nick Fury's office swung shut behind Tony Stark with a resounding thud, the sound echoing in the oppressive silence of the room. He paused for a moment, taking in the familiar surroundings: the imposing desk, the sparse furnishings, the faint scent of old leather and stale coffee. He raked a hand through his hair, the tension already coiling in his gut. Babysitting duty. Not exactly how he envisioned spending his day, especially not when he had a fully-functioning workshop calling his name. But Fury had been insistent, his voice brooking no argument, practically pleading with him to take in this girl, some kid with powers SHIELD had rescued from Hydra."Trauma," Fury had growled over the phone, that gruff voice laced with an unfamiliar concern, "You know a thing or two about that, Stark."

Fury sat behind his imposing desk, his one good eye fixed on Tony with an intensity that could melt steel. The girl was perched on a chair in the corner, her posture rigid, hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her hair fell to her shoulders in a cascade of dark waves. He couldn't quite place her ethnicity, but her skin had a pale tone, and her features were delicate, almost elfin. But it's her eyes that captured his attention. They're an extraordinary shade of blue, almost luminous, framed by thick dark lashes. And they're filled with a deep-seated fear, a haunting vulnerability that made his chest ache. "You wanted to see me, Fury?" Tony asked, his voice softer than usual, a hint of concern creeping into his tone. Fury's expression remained unchanged, an impenetrable mask. "This is Teresa," he said, gesturing towards the girl. "Teresa, this is Tony Stark. He's going to be your guardian."

Teresa flinched at the sound of her name, her head snapping up, those mesmerizing blue eyes widening in alarm. They met Tony's, and he felt a jolt, a strange flicker of recognition, as if he's looking into a mirror reflecting a part of himself he'd rather forget. He could see the fear in her eyes, the way she shrank back in her chair. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly, taking a small step closer. "I'm not going to hurt you." Fury cleared his throat. "Teresa's situation is...unique," he explained, his voice low and deliberate. "She has abilities that require a certain level of, shall we say, specialized supervision." "Abilities?" Tony glanced at Teresa, curiosity and concern mingling in his gaze. "What kind of abilities?" Fury hesitated, his gaze flickering towards Teresa. "We're still evaluating the full extent of her powers," he said carefully. "But let's just say they require a delicate touch." Tony nodded slowly, his mind already racing with possibilities, but he pushed them aside. Now wasn't the time for questions.

He turned to Teresa, offering a warm, reassuring smile. "It's nice to meet you, Teresa," he said, his voice kind. "I'm Tony."Teresa remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor, her body radiating tension. "And she's not...comfortable talking about it," Fury interjected, his voice softening slightly. Tony sighed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. This was going to be harder than he thought. A lot harder. But he was going to do everything he could to help this girl. He owed her that much.

The silence in the car was thick enough to cut with a knife. Tony glanced over at Teresa, who was staring out the window, her face still pale and drawn, a stark contrast to the vibrant cityscape flashing by. He could practically feel the tension radiating off of her, the fear and uncertainty swirling around her like a storm cloud. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the ice, to bridge the chasm that seemed to separate them. But the words seemed to catch in his throat. He wasn't used to this, this delicate dance of trying to connect with someone so fragile, so guarded. It was a stark reminder of his own vulnerabilities, the ghosts of his past that still haunted him. He cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. "So," he began, hating the way his voice sounded, overly loud in the confined space, "how about that weather, huh? Typical New York – can't make up its mind if it wants to rain or not." Teresa didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the passing cityscape, her expression unreadable. He could see the reflection of the buildings in her eyes, the distorted images mirroring the turmoil within her. Tony winced inwardly. Okay, so maybe small talk wasn't his forte. Especially not with a teenager who'd probably rather be anywhere else than trapped in a car with him, the man who was supposed to be her guardian, her protector. He tried a different tactic, drawing on his own experiences, the scars that still lingered beneath the surface.

"Look, I know this is probably weird for you," he said, his voice softer now, more sincere, the edges rough with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to show. "Being taken from one strange place to another, meeting a bunch of new people..." He paused, searching for the right words, the words that might offer a glimmer of comfort, a lifeline in the storm. "But I want you to know that you're safe now. You're not going back there. Not ever." Teresa finally turned her head, her deep blue eyes meeting his with a flicker of something that might have been gratitude, or maybe just surprise. He saw a hint of vulnerability in those depths, a crack in the armor she had so carefully constructed around herself. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile thread of sound in the hushed interior of the car. Tony felt a warmth spread through his chest, a sensation that surprised him with its intensity. It wasn't much, just a whisper of connection, but it was a start. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this. Maybe he could help her find her way through the darkness.

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence, punctuated only by the occasional hum of the engine and the changing pop songs playing on the car's stereo. Tony had opted for a common radio station, hoping she might recognize some songs. He wasn't sure if it was working, but he figured it was better than his usual hard rock, and hopefully it would at least help her relax a little and take her mind off things. As they approached the Avengers Tower, Teresa's eyes widened, taking in the gleaming skyscraper that pierced the city skyline, a monument to power and ambition. "This is where you live?" she asked, her voice filled with awe, a hint of wonder breaking through the fear. Tony chuckled, the sound a little rusty, but genuine. "Yeah, it's a bit much, isn't it? But it's got a great view." He pulled the car into the underground garage, the sleek vehicle sliding smoothly into a designated spot. The sudden silence, after the hum of the engine and the city noise, was almost deafening. "Come on," he said, stepping out, offering her a hand. "Let me show you around."

He led her through the maze of corridors and elevators, the rather cool, sterile environment a strong contrast to the warmth he was trying to project. Finally, they arrived at a spacious guest suite. It was decorated in calming neutral tones, with a plush bed, a comfortable seating area, and a large window overlooking the city, a panorama of twinkling lights against the darkening sky. "This is your room," Tony said, gesturing around the space, hoping it would feel welcoming, a sanctuary from the storm. "There's a bathroom through there, and the closet's stocked with clothes." Teresa's eyes darted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the luxurious furnishings, the technology that was both familiar and alien to her. She looked overwhelmed, but also a little bit curious, a spark of interest flickering in her eyes. "Thank you," she murmured again, her voice still soft, but with a hint of something stronger, something that sounded like hope. "No problem," Tony said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'll leave you to it. Dinner's in a couple of hours. Just head down to the common area when you're ready. And Teresa?" She looked up at him, her blue eyes questioning, searching his face for answers he wasn't sure he had. "If you need anything at all, just ask," he said, his voice gentle, his gaze steady. "Anything." He gave her one last smile and then quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall for a moment, drawing a deep breath. He hoped he was doing the right thing. He hoped he could help her.

His expression hardened, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders. He walked down to the living room preparing himself for his following speech.
"Alright, team," he said, his voice low and serious, demanding their attention. "Listen up. We've got a situation." All eyes turned towards him, the playful banter dying down as they sensed the shift in his demeanor. Steve Rogers lowered his book, his brow furrowed with concern. Natasha Romanoff, ever alert, straightened up on her stool, her gaze fixed on Tony with laser-like intensity. Clint Barton, the oranges he was juggling with a minute ago forgotten, leaned forward, his usual playful grin replaced by a look of curiosity. Bruce Banner, his fingers hovering over the screen of his tablet, looked up with a worried frown. Even Thor, his attention momentarily diverted from the pop tarts in front of him, sat up straighter, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "We've had a very recent addition to our family. Her name is Teresa," Tony continued, his voice heavy with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to show. "She's going to be staying with us for a while. And she's going to need our help." He paused, letting the gravity of his words sink in. He could see the questions swirling in their eyes, the concern etched on their faces. "What happened?" Steve asked, his voice hushed. Tony hesitated, unsure how much to reveal, how much they could handle. "She was... experimented on," he said finally, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "By Hydra."

A collective gasp went through the room, the air thickening with tension. "Those bastards," Steve muttered, his jaw clenched, his eyes hardening with righteous anger. "What kind of experiments?" Natasha pressed, her voice sharp. Tony shook his head. "I don't know the details," he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "But it was bad. Really bad. She's traumatized, scared, doesn't trust anyone." He looked at each of them in turn, his gaze pleading for their understanding. "She needs our support, our understanding. And most importantly, she needs space." He paused, letting his words sink in. "I'm asking you guys to give her that space. No explosions, Barton. No pranks. No loud noises. And for God's sake, Thor, try to keep the Asgardian war cries to a minimum."
A flicker of amusement crossed Clint's face, but he quickly sobered up. "Got it, Tony. Lips sealed." Natasha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "We'll be careful." Bruce, his eyes filled with compassion, offered a reassuring smile. "We'll do everything we can to help her, Tony." Thor, his face grim, nodded in agreement. "She will be safe here, Stark. We shall protect her." Tony felt a surge of gratitude for his team, for their unwavering support. He knew he could count on them. "Thanks, guys," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I appreciate it. Now, I was thinking maybe some of you could go out for dinner tonight? Give her a chance to acclimate without being overwhelmed." "Sounds good, Tony," Steve agreed. "We'll give you some space." "Clint, Bruce, Thor," Tony said, "how about you guys grab some takeout? My treat." "But I was just about to perfect my orange juggling routine!" Clint protested, a playful whine in his voice. Bruce chuckled. "Don't worry, Clint. There'll be other opportunities for orange-related entertainment." Thor, however, looked disappointed. "But I was hoping for a grand feast to welcome our new companion!" Tony rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Point Break, there'll be plenty of time for feasting later. Right now, Teresa needs some peace and quiet." He turned to Natasha and Pepper, who had just entered the room. "Nat, Pepper, I was hoping you two might stay. I think it might be good for Teresa to have some female company." Natasha inclined her head. "Of course, Tony." Pepper smiled warmly. "I'd be happy to, Tony. I'm sure we can make her feel welcome."

Relief washed over Tony. He knew he could always count on them. "Thanks, guys," he said, his voice gruff with gratitude. "I'm going to check on Teresa, make sure she's settling in. Be back in a bit." He strode towards the guest suite, a sense of apprehension tightening his chest. He knocked softly, and when a small voice responded, he pushed the door open, his breath catching in his throat. Teresa wasn't exploring the suite as he'd imagined. Instead, she was huddled on the floor, her back pressed against the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. The last rays of the setting sun painted the room in warm hues, but she seemed lost in the shadows, her gaze fixed on the doorway, her body a tight coil of tension. He understood. This wasn't about comfort; it was about survival. She needed to see the entrance, to anticipate any threat, a reflex born from a life lived in fear. The plush bed, the inviting furniture – they represented vulnerability, exposure. The hard floor offered a sense of control, a meager shield against a world that had only ever brought her pain.

Crouching down, he met her eyes, those luminous blue pools filled with a haunting mix of fear and defiance. "Hey," he said softly, "everything alright in here?" "It's... different," she murmured, her voice barely audible, her gaze darting around the unfamiliar space. "Different good, or different bad?" he asked gently, trying to gauge her reaction. She hesitated, then finally met his gaze. "Different... big," she whispered, her voice laced with a vulnerability that made his chest ache. He nodded, understanding washing over him. "It is pretty big," he agreed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Takes some getting used to. But trust me, it's got the best coffee machine in the world." He hoped the lame joke might ease the tension, even a little. He wasn't sure it worked, but he saw a flicker of something in her eyes, a hint of curiosity perhaps. "Look," he said, his voice softening, "you don't have to use the bed, or any of this stuff, if you don't want to. Just... make yourself comfortable, okay?" She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor.
"It's time for dinner soon," he continued, rising to his feet. "Again, just come down to the common area when you're ready. It'll just be Pepper, Natasha, and me tonight. Everyone else is giving you some space." He saw a flicker of relief in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, the words barely audible. "No problem," he said, his voice rough with emotion. He gave her a reassuring nod and turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Oh, and Teresa?" She looked up, her blue eyes questioning. "Welcome home," he said softly, and then he was gone, the closing door leaving her alone with her thoughts and the vastness of her new reality.