As we crossed the lawn, the security head met us partway, nodding at Happy, doing a doubletake of the Avengers with us, then refocusing on Happy,

"Hello Mr. Hogan, we've done a few sweeps of the property, everything seems in order. No sign of disturbances or suspicious devices outside. I have some people stationed in the backyard. Those out here will be divided between watching the front and side yards, guarding the moving truck, and patrolling the perimeter. Some of them will go inside ahead of you to sweep within the house and will continue patrolling inside while you pack. No one else will be allowed on the property without express permission."

Happy nodded in acknowledgement and guided me towards the front door, three of the security people breaking away from the group to join us. As they approached, I realized two of them were women. I led everyone to the front door, unlocking it and stepping aside so security could go in. As we stood on my porch waiting, I felt highly conscious of the neighbours curious eyes, and after giving a few small polite waves, tried to look everywhere but in their directions.

While we waited, the two moving guys came over, now joined by several others that had been waiting inside the truck. They addressed Happy, "So what's the plan here, Sir? We were just told to bring people, supplies, and the largest truck we had. We can also call for additional trucks if needed. But we don't know any of the specifics."

Happy looked at me, "It's your house, Y/N, what's the plan?"

I'd been thinking about it a bit on the way over but wasn't entirely sure how well it would go. "I'll go through the rooms one by one with you, giving some more specific instructions on what does and doesn't need to be packed, or if anything needs to be done a certain way, leaving some people to start working in them as we go. You'll mostly be doing the main rooms. I'll be taking care of the bedrooms and upstairs bathroom. When it comes to heavy lifting, especially for some of the furniture, these two," I gestured at Mr. Rogers and Bucky, who both sighed resignedly "will take care of most of that."

Just as I finished giving instructions, the front door reopened and one of the security ladies came out. "All clear. It's all yours."

I thanked her and we all trooped inside. We went through the small entryway with the coat closet and shoe rack, the parlour room with all of my grandmother's fancy furniture and the display cupboard full of china and crystal, then we had the dining room with a large wooden table and another cupboard full of fancy dishes and silverware. I emphasized several times to the movers that if even a single dish was broken, it wasn't Tony Stark they'd have to be worried about it, it would be me. They seemed suitably afraid for me to feel comfortable leaving them to start packing said dishes as we continued across the hall to the kitchen with its adjoining pantry. At the back of the house were the downstairs powder room, the sunroom, and the living room, both with miscellaneous items strewn amongst the furniture and tables. In the living room, between the cabinet filled with records and an overstuffed bookshelf, was the door to the basement.

It was only a half basement, and we entered the small study which doubled as the computer room, with a door leading into the cool cellar. An open doorway led to the laundry room, with two doors at the other end. The first was a large storage room filled with all the seasonal décor and extra household items, all of which were already in boxes and would be pretty simple to move. The second was my grandma's history room. This was where all her memory boxes were, and the walls were hung with photos from her life pre-marriage. There was also a cabinet filled with small trinkets, such as a set of dancing shoes and her class ring. I'd noticed both Bucky and Mr. Rogers giving some of the furniture and decorations second looks, but here Bucky became entranced, nervously approaching the pictures and items, his eyes wordlessly taking everything in. I told the movers to also leave this room for me, and we headed upstairs.

The upstairs had the sewing room, the walk-in linen closet, the full bathroom, and our three bedrooms. A lot of Grandma's stuff had been packed into boxes already, but we'd left a few things out. I told the movers they could take the boxes out that were already there, and pack the bedlinens and bed, but that I'd take care of the loose items. They could also do the sewing room and linen closet, but I reiterated that I would do the bathroom and the other two bedrooms.

The movers that hadn't broken off into previous rooms, now did so, going off to back. Bucky and Mr. Rogers went to get boxes and other supplies, returning with a large pile, and I moved into the bathroom to start packing. All three of the Avengers stood awkwardly just outside the door as I began emptying cabinets. After a few moments of silence with them either watching me or staring at each other, I sent Bucky and Mr. Rogers downstairs to help the movers with some of the furniture. They hesitated but went downstairs after Ms. Romanoff assured them that she could handle anything going wrong up here long enough for them to join. Her slight gesturing at her ear made me realize they all had communication pieces. Geez, this was so overboard.

Ms. Romanoff leaned against the door frame, "So, how are you liking being Tony's daughter?"

I shrugged, "It's only been a few days, so it's hard to tell. But I think I'll like it. He cares about me. It's a good start."

"I think you'll be good for him. Possibly more than he will be with you."

I briefly glanced at her before moving to the next cabinet, my next words quiet, "I hope so, I just don't want finding him to be a mistake."

She stepped into the room, opening an upper cupboard and moving its items onto the counter for easier access.

"I won't lie, he's also practically a child himself in some ways. And he's been through a lot. Life with him won't always be easy. There'll be hard stuff. He'll try to hide it, try not to admit it. But you should be aware those moments will come. And you should know not to take it personally if he doesn't show any emotion towards you. It's how he is."

I nodded, taking it all in, staying silent as I put the last items into boxes and taped them shut, moving them into the hallway for the movers. Then headed down the hall to my room, taking a deep breath as I opened the door.

This room was everything familiar to me, and now I had to pack it up. I glanced at Ms. Romanoff, wishing I could ask to be alone but knowing she would refuse. Refusing to let myself sink into my emotions, knowing there would be plenty of time for that later, I started by taking all my posters and photos off the walls. Ms. Romanoff helped where she could, pulling my suitcases out of the closet and packing my clothes, then helping me with what I was working through. We idly chitchatted as went, her making little comments on clothes she liked or asking questions about things we found as we packed. At one point I referred to her as Ms. Romanoff and she insisted I call her Natasha. The late afternoon light outside the window got darker and darker, eventually forcing us to turn on the overhead light. We had paused briefly around 6 pm to eat pizza for dinner, after which Mr. Rogers and Bucky rejoined us, furniture moving being on hold until the morning. They pitched in with packing up my room and it got emptier and emptier. I'd moved from the walls to my dresser, to my desk, to my bookshelf, then to the storage bins under my bed, the stack of boxes in the hallway growing and growing. It had taken longer than I'd thought, and it was almost 9pm by the time there was nothing left to pack but my bed linens. Knowing I'd need to sleep at some point, I left them there for now, and moved out into the hall. I glanced at my mom's room, but instead headed down to the basement with my entourage. As we passed through the main level, we picked up more boxes, and I tried to ignore the twinge of pain seeing empty walls and spaces that had been filled with our life.

I stopped outside the door of my grandma's storage room, looking at Bucky, then at the others, "You two should take a break. Maybe grab some sleep. Bucky can stay with me for here."

Natasha narrowed her eyes then shrugged, "May not be a bad idea, that way we can make sure at least one of us is always awake."

Mr. Rogers raised his eyebrows at Bucky, "Will you be good?"

Bucky gave a slight nod, "I'll be fine."

Mr. Rogers and Natasha went off, and Bucky and I entered the room. I noted the way he slowly approached everything but didn't touch any of it. "You know, Bucky, none of this will explode if you handle it. And I'm sure Grandma wouldn't mind."

He chuckled, giving me a wry smile, "I'm not so sure about that. She never liked me going through her things when we were younger, I doubt that's changed."

"Yeah well, it technically all belongs to me now, and I hereby grant you permission," I mimicked a big flourish of knighting him with an imaginary sword, "so have at it."

He stared at me like I was crazy before rolling his eyes and tentatively reaching out to pick up a picture. It was of Grandma and Grandpa on their wedding day. Bucky smiled tenderly, his finger tracing the side of her face. I turned away to give him some privacy, moving over to the other side of the room and starting to pack up that cabinet. I heard Bucky rustling around behind me as I packed.

After several minutes, his voice broke the companiable silence, "I remember this." He came over to me, holding a silver bracelet. "I gave her this for her 7th birthday, I'd saved up all my allowance, wanting to get her something good. I can't believe she kept it all these years…"

I smiled softly at him, "She not only kept it, but she wore it all the time. So much so we considered burying it with her, but she'd told us specifically not to, so we didn't. She never told me where it came from, just that it was a gift of love and that it should be treasured. She wanted it to be passed down."

Bucky sniffed and turned away, his shoulders shaking slightly. I hesitated a moment, unsure if I should just pretend I didn't know he was crying, or if I should do something about it. I decided on the latter, slowly standing up and approaching him, making sure to scuff my feet against the carpet so he knew I was coming towards him. I hesitated one last moment before reaching out to him, gently rubbing soothing circles in his back the way Grandma always did when I was crying or sad. His entire body froze and he turned, breaking my connection to him, and looking at me with an uncertain expression. I reached my two arms out to him. When he stayed frozen in his place, I took the step forward to wrap my arms around him instead, cheering inside when his arms slowly moved to return the gesture. His head tilted down to press against the top of mine, and we just stood like that for several moments. Slowly, his stiff body relaxed, and his covert sniffling dissipated. Eventually, he lifted his arms and stepped back, stretching his hand out towards me, the one still holding the bracelet, "You should wear it." There was an unspoken intensity behind the suggestion, and somehow, I knew that it would mean a great deal to him, if I wore the bracelet he'd given his sister.

I nodded, taking the now warm metal from him, and slipping it over my wrist. I turned to go back to my work, but paused when I noticed a strange look cross his face. I looked at him questioningly and he met my eyes briefly before looking away, "And um, you can call me Uncle Bucky… you know, if you want…"

"I'd like that," I exhaled softly, "Uncle Bucky."

He gave me a soft smile, which I returned, and we both went back to packing. I saw the time on my watch slip past eleven and noticed Uncle Bucky looking over at me with increased frequency. I also noticed myself getting tired, but I was determined to finish the room. I was on what I figured would be the last box, when I got distracted reading the front page of an old newspaper, settling into a bit more of a comfortable position on the floor to do so.

I ended up falling asleep sprawled out on the floor with the paper, only waking slightly at the feeling of Uncle Bucky's arms lifting me up. He quietly told me to keep sleeping and I relaxed against him. I vaguely noted being carried up the stairs but was fast asleep by the time he laid me on my bed.

Which is where I woke up a few hours later, roused by the sounds of someone moving boxes in the hall. I crawled out from the covers, idly wondering if I'd shifted under them myself or if Uncle Bucky had actually tucked me in. I stood up and stretched, heading out of my room to go find something to drink. As I entered the hall, I was startled by Mr. Rogers, who was leaning against the wall outside.

He nodded in acknowledgement when he saw me, "Hello Y/N."

I raised my eyebrow at him, "Hi, Mr. Rogers. Um, what are you doing just creeping outside my room?"

He cracked a smile, "Guard duty, per orders of your father."

I rolled my eyes, "Of course. I'm sorry, that must be pretty boring. Are the others sleeping then?"

He fell in line with me as I continued towards the first floor, "Yes. Bucky finished up the room you were working on together downstairs first though."

I nodded and pursed my lips, giving him a sideways glance, "You must know Bucky pretty well?"

He gave me a guarded look, "Yeah, I'd say so. Why?"

"He's so different from how Grandma always spoke about him—I mean, I've seen the caring and carefree parts of him break out occasionally, but most of the time he seems very… serious and kind of glowery with me… did I do something to upset him?"

"Nono, of course not! It has nothing to do with you. He's just been through a lot, what with the war and…everything after," I think he saw the question on my face, because he sternly added, "And that's his story to tell. When he wants to tell it. Don't push him in this Y/N, and don't go looking elsewhere for it. Some of it…some of it involves your dad's family, and we can't stop Tony from telling you if he chooses to…but, don't ask him, okay? It's a very complicated situation, and no real good way to handle it."

I pushed down the urge to immediately go and ask Tony, now that I knew that he had part of the story, but I would respect my great-uncle's wishes. I had enough other stuff going on right now, that I didn't really need to add any more complications. "Okay, Mr. Rogers, I'll wait."

"And enough with the Mr. Rogers, it makes me feel my age. Just call me Steve, kid."

I gave a small laugh, "Okay, Steve."

He continued following me around as I got a glass of water, sitting down on one of the dining room chairs that was now in the parlour waiting to be moved to the truck. I looked around at the haphazard collection of furniture from other rooms in the other, seeing them in their proper places in my mind's eye, desperately wishing I could have trusted Jeremy enough to leave them there.

One of the movers walked through the room and I turned to Steve with a sudden realization, "Have the movers and security been working all this time?"

"Yes, but not the same ones. They're on shifts. Every single one having undergone a background check by Tony and an inspection by Happy."

Good, I wasn't working anyone to the bone. "What's Happy been doing anyway?"

He chuckled, "He's sleeping now, but he's been supervising, mostly. As well as coordinating with the security team and keeping Tony updated on our progress. We should be out of here by 9am at the latest. Pretty much all the rooms have been packed up, except for the stuff you still have to do. At this point, they're just working on getting all the boxes and furniture down here, so that once it's light enough out, they can resume putting it on the truck."

I nodded. "Guess I should get back to work then." Just as I finished speaking, my cellphone rang, "After this."

I briefly checked the caller ID before picking up. "Good morning, Tony."

"Good morning, kid. How are you holding up?"

I wandered over to the other side of the room, not entirely sure it would make a difference with Steve's super-soldier hearing, but I liked the slight illusion of privacy. "I'm okay. Lots to do. Lots I wish I didn't have to do."

"I'm sorry I couldn't come up with another plan, so you didn't have to do this. Money can do a lot, but even it can't speed up some legal processes or I'd already have his guardianship of the building removed."

"It's okay, I appreciate what you have done. At least I know this will all be safe."

"I do have some good news though. Mr. Johnson has been working hard on getting my status as your legal guardianship. And while he hasn't been able to get the permanent status paperwork through yet, he was able to get emergency temporary guardianship status for me. So, you don't have to worry about CPS anymore. I've sent Happy digital copies of the paperwork in case it's needed."

I shuddered at the thought of some poor lawyer probably being harassed to sign the paperwork but couldn't lie that I was relieved at the outcome. "That's great, thank you Tony."

"Hey, there has to be at least some perks to being the daughter of the world's best billionaire."

I smirked, "And the world's most humble too, I see."

"You got it."

Laughing, I said goodbye and headed back upstairs. It didn't take long to pack the last few items in Grandma's room and the linens on my bed. As I moved into my mom's room, I heard them begin moving the big furniture from the other rooms down the stairs. Uncle Bucky and Natasha were awake at that point, so I sent the super soldiers to go help with the heavy lifting, and Natasha stayed with me. Since I'd already been working on going through my mom's stuff, which is how I'd found the journal that brought me to this moment, it was quick work to pack her stuff in boxes. Partway through, the horizon through the now-curtainless window began to lighten, and by the time I finished, the sun's bright light filled the room, and I could hear the noises of them beginning to continue loading the truck.

I began bringing the boxes downstairs but was quickly stopped by some of the movers that weren't helping put items on the truck, and they took over. No longer being allowed to help, probably some trickle-down rule of Tony's, I instead wandered through my now mostly empty house and out into the backyard. They'd even emptied the shed and taken away the patio furniture. I sat on the stone half wall between the patio and the lawn, turning away from Natasha and towards the sun, using the movement to hide my wet eyes.

The peace of the morning was disrupted by sudden commotion coming from the front. I immediately stood up and took off around the side of the house, Natasha following close behind, almost running into me as I skidded to a stop at the scene on my front lawn.

A man and woman from the security team held back an infuriated and yelling Jeremy, while the movers quickly moved past with the items they were holding, and two others retreated into the house with the items they'd just started bringing out. Happy had emerged and was firmly talking to Jeremy, his voice controlled and tight. Natasha grabbed my arm and tried to pull me backwards but wasn't fast enough. Jeremy's eyes had caught the movement of my arrival and he turned to me with a glare so harsh I flinched, "You think you'll get away with this, you little brat?"