I stared at the man in front of me, eyes wide as he began to approach, and even though the lights of the room didn't quite reach him, I could see his glare, "Who are you?"

Even though he was still halfway across the very large room, I instinctively took a step backwards, my knees hitting the side of the couch arm. I went to respond, but my mouth was suddenly very dry. I swallowed and went to try again, but was cut-off as Tony stepped in front of me. "She's my daughter. And you're scaring her. So, you can stop where you are."

With Tony in front of me, I could now only see a bit of the guy's side. Enough to see that he didn't stop, clenching instead his fist as he demanded, "Why is she talking about me?"

Tony pressed a button on his watch, and his hand was suddenly encased in a metal fist, which he aimed at the man. "I said. Stop."

I felt movement behind me, and Mr. Rogers stood up, easing his way around Tony to stand in between the two men, his hands stretched out calmingly.

"Okay, guys, let's just calm down. Then we can talk and figure this out."

Tony didn't lower his arm. And metal-arm kept approaching, though his steps had slowed.

Slight movement from what I could see of Mr. Rogers indicated he looked at my father, "Tony."

"He stops walking, I put the suit away." His voice tense.

Mr. Rogers sighed and looked at the other guy, "Please, Buck."

'Buck' took a few more languid steps, before finally stopping just behind Mr. Rogers.

I glanced around the others, most of who just seemed to be watching in a state of shock. Loki looked like he kind of wished he had popcorn. I nudged Tony, and he looked back at me. I poked his arm, "That's your sign to put that," I waved at the metal encasing his hand, "away."

He sighed, and relaxed his hand by his side, the metal retracting back into the watch while I marveled at the motion. His body stayed tense though.

Feeling like things were a bit calmer, I cautiously stepped around Tony to face the man. Obviously, he couldn't be that big of a threat if he was allowed in the tower, and if none of the other Avengers had gotten up to fight him. Still, I stayed close to Tony's side as I moved, my arm brushing against his, as I steeled myself to meet what would likely be an angry gaze.

I looked up and gasped as his face was now fully exposed under the lights. Those icy blue eyes looked so familiar and the set of the jaw. I belatedly registered that Mr. Rogers had referred to him as 'Buck' —and I remembered the nickname 'Bucky' from some of Grandma's fonder ramblings. His hair was longer and he looked older, lines in his face that hadn't been there before. And while the eyes were familiar, they were missing the warmth and lightheartedness from his pictures.

Grandma hadn't had many photos of her brother, but she'd shown me them often enough for me to recognize who I was looking at. Bewildered, my head snapped back and forth between the ghost in front of me and Tony, my voice coming out slightly hysterical, "How…what…how?"

Bucky looked at me, his features lightening as I think he realized I wasn't a threat, though wariness lingered in his eyes and posture, and his voice came out gentler this time, but still with a firmness to them that indicated he was insistent upon an answer, "How do you know who I am?"

I felt Tony's hand raise to squeeze my shoulder. "I think we should all sit down with some drinks, how 'bout that?"

No one acknowledged him. I just kept staring, my mind trying to fully comprehend the impossibility of what was happening right now. Disregarding both of what either of them had said, I turned to Mr. Rogers, "You were in the war together, is he like you? Was he frozen in the Arctic too? Why didn't anyone tell us?!" My pitch and volume raised with my panic and anger. How could the government not have told my grandma what had actually happened to her brother? Everyone knew Captain America went down in the Arctic, but they'd only been told vague answers of 'lost on a mission." Why wasn't he important enough to be mentioned?! Why hadn't my family deserved to know the truth!?

It was until Tony shifted to face me, his hands on both shoulders, intently looking in my eyes as he gently shook me as he urged me to breathe, that I realized I was hyperventilating and panicking. I focused on my father's eyes and the feel of his hands, taking a deep breath, then matching my breaths with his. I nodded, my breath coming evenly now, and I gently brushed his hands off, and moved to questioningly look at Mr. Rogers.

He sighed, "Y/N, it's a lot more complicated than that."

Bucky gave him a light glare, "Why does her question get answered but not mine?"

I took another deep breath, briefly contemplating everything that had been said, before taking a step closer to my great-uncle. Tony let out a little squawk and tried to pull me back, but I tugged out of his grip and continued to approach Bucky, extending my hand for him to shake.

"I'm sorry, I've been rude. My name is Y/N Y/l/n. I'm Tony Stark's daughter—we found out yesterday, everyone else found out about ten minutes ago. But I'm also the granddaughter of Elizabeth Barnes, who was the daughter of George and Winnifred Barnes. And if I'm following everything correctly right now, even though it seems impossible and frankly I have no idea how this is possible and I'mkindatryingtonotfreakoutrightnow, that makes me your great-niece."

Bucky stared at me, "You're…you're…" He looked at Mr. Rogers, who shrugged, then back at me, a lost expression on his face.

I lifted my hand further into his view, "You know, you're kind of leaving me hanging here."

He reached out slowly, finally taking my hand, his skin warm on mine as he shook my hand carefully- as though I was made of glass and could break at any moment. I gave him a reassuring smile and tightened my grip, not letting him go when he went to pull away. Those ice-blue eyes, the same as my Grandma's and the same as my mother's, met mine, wary and questioning. I met them with mine, wondering which of the chaos of emotions swirling inside of me showed in them, "I'm glad I got to meet you." Noting that his eyes were starting to look glassy with unshed tears, I gave a final squeeze of his hand, then let go, taking a step back.

Swallowing hard, I suddenly recalled we had an audience, and turned around to face all of them again. Tony looked perturbed, Ms. Romanoff indifferent, Loki amused, and everyone else varying ranges of shock and confusion.

I did a small flourish with my hands and gave a small bow, "'I'm here all week—or at least until Tony gets sick of me."

The resulting chuckles, and a few more of those damn 'Yep, she's Tony's' comments, broke the tense atmosphere and we all settled in, Tony sitting down beside Ms. Romanoff in the space vacated by Mr. Rogers. I started carrying over a stool from the bar, but Mr. Rogers quickly intercepted me and insisted on bringing it over for me. I rolled my eyes since I was fully capable of carrying the stool myself, and directed him to set it down next to where Tony was sitting. Mr. Rogers and Bucky then sat down on either end of the last couch.

Tony craned his head to look at me, "You want to take it away with story time, kid?"

I smiled, "Sure," I shifted slightly to better address the group, "So, about a month ago…"

I told them all about how I'd ended up at Tony's office, at which point he started interrupting me so often that I let him just take over, bringing everyone up to speed to where we were now. Obviously, there were quite a few questions, which we took turns answering, and eventually the conversation shifted from one to many, turning into the normal chatter amongst a group of friends. Every once in awhile, I'd get the feeling of being watched, and sometimes it was one of the others, but I would normally look around to see a pair of ice-blue eyes staring at me. Sometimes I ignored it, sometimes I'd acknowledge him with a quick smile before returning to whatever I'd been doing before.

An hour or so in, I stood up and excused myself to go the washroom, and following the vague wave of Tony's hand, headed down a hallway, cautiously opening doors as I went. Several halls later, I'd found several empty bedrooms, a kitchen, a mini-theatre, two more sitting areas, a room filled with computers, multiple labs, some storage rooms and linen closets, and a few totally empty rooms. But no bathrooms. I was also hopelessly lost.

I looked up at the ceiling, what was the AI's name again.. oh right, "FRIDAY, are you there?"

"Yes Miss. Y/l/n, I'm here."

"Great, um, can you tell me how to get to the bathroom?"

"Of course, go back three doors, turn right, then left, go through the fourth door on your right, exit through the opposite site of the room, and the door in front of you should be the bathroom."

I followed her directions, sighing in relief as I opened the door and saw a marble and tile bathroom. I thanked the AI, used the washroom, then exited back into the dark hallway (why were there no lights on anyway?). I didn't remember passing through this area before, and I now noticed that at the end of the hallway, there was a large glass window. I went over, looking down at the city spread out far below, a picturesque array of glittering lights in the dark.

I leaned my head against the pane of glass, a sudden pang of homesickness running through me, "Oh Y/N, what have you gotten yourself into?" I stared out at the view, the glass cool on my skin as I thought of home.

Home, where the tallest building was the 3-story office building in the middle of town, that had served as city hall, the library, and most other office-based businesses for the area. I'd never even imagined a view like the one I was looking at now. I thought of the trees lining the streets at home, and all of the little patches of parks. New York City had a lot going on, but I hadn't seen a whole lot of green.

I'd stood in the streets here and been dwarfed by the buildings stretching high above me, just one other person in the crowds that rushed through the streets—streets filled with honking cars and packed buses, taxis swerving in and out of traffic, and pedestrians crossing all over the place. A stark contrast to the quiet roads of home, populated mostly by stop signs.

I sighed. I was a small-town girl. How could I possibly fit in here? It seemed impossible to think I could ever get used to the differences. I briefly wondered what the school would be like. What the other students would be like. Aside from the genius intern Tony said he was going to introduce me to, who would still practically be a stranger anyways, I wouldn't know anyone. A strange thought when I'd been in classes with the same kids since kindergarten.

Two months ago, I'd been happy living my quiet life with my mother, well as happy as I could be knowing she was getting sicker and sicker. A month ago, the dreaded day had come and two weeks later I'd found the journal. It had taken me about a few days to decide to follow up on it, and a few more to plan the trip. Because that's all I'd expected it to be. A trip. Where afterwards I'd be returning to my house and my bedroom and my life there. It had never occurred to me that I'd end up staying in New York City. Instead, in the last 24ish hours, my life had entirely turned upside down.

I didn't realize I'd started crying until the light trickle of tears turned into a flood. I slowly drifted down to the floor, twisting so my back was against the window, my knees crunched up with my head buried in my arms as I sobbed.

It was too much. I didn't want any more change. I wanted my life back. I wanted my mother back.

I sat there, sobbing, lost in my sudden grief for I don't know how long. It felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes considering no one had come looking for me. Slowly, my crying slowed and eventually faded away, leaving me with wet cheeks and tightness behind my eyes. I took a deep, shuddering breath and stood up.

I went back into the washroom, splashing my face with water and grimacing at my red-rimmed eyes. After a short chat with FRIDAY and a few wrong turns, one of which brought me to a hallway lined with doors labelled with the Avengers' names and another that had led to the discovery of a small library, I found my way back to the main room.

I watched them from afar, taking a deep breath as I moved to rejoin them. These were the people in my life now. This was my life now. Bucky was the first to notice my return and he gently tilted his head to the empty space next to him, seating having shifted while I was gone so that he was alone on the couch and no other spots were available. I sat down, suddenly feeling shy.

He cleared his throat, "Hi."

I tilted my head to look at him, "Hi."

His eyes widened when he saw my face, his expression swiftly becoming concerned. His voice soft, he asked, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, "Peachy."

He raised his eyebrow, "That's what Liz always said when she wasn't okay."

I gave a soft smile at my Grandma's nickname. "Perceptive, aren't you? It's just…a little much. Everything's changed so much in the last day. I have a dad. Who has an obscene amount of money. Who lives in a place like this. Who's in the Avengers. I have a new life planned for me: a new city, a new school, new friends, new everything. Not to mention, I have a great-uncle that's risen from the dead, who hasn't talked to me all night." My lips twitching into a mischievous grin at that last point.

He blew out his breath, the look in his eyes lightening a bit though they were still wary, "Life likes to be tricky like that—it can give you a lot of unexpected twists, and not all of them will be good, trust me."

My eyes narrowed slightly at his words, sensing the heaviness of them and knowing there was a story behind them. But I could also tell that right now was not the time for it to be shared. So instead, I gave a him a hopeful smile, "Well, I'm hoping this twist will be." My meaning clear as I gazed at him. His lips twitched a little and I cheered at the little victory.

We lapsed into silence after that, just quietly staring at each other until Tony called me over to answer something Thor was asking. I sat in a vacated spot next to Tony while I gave my reply, leaning back against the plush cushions once my contribution was no longer needed, content to just listen to the chatter around me. I must have been tired because the next thing I knew my eyes were closing and my head dropped slightly to the side. Not fully asleep, but not quite awake, I shifted to find a comfier position, pulling my feet up on the couch, curling my arms in front of me, and resting my head against something sturdy but soft. It was only in the last moment before I drifted off that I registered the scent of cologne and motor oil and realized that Tony was my pillow.