The Avengers stare at me with confusion in their eyes.

"Natasha," Steve chokes, "why didn't you tell me that you had a daughter?"

Natalia, my mother, swallows and contemplates her sentence.

"When I was 16," she starts, "I was promoted to Black Widow in the Red Room. I was sent on a mission to collect information from a wealthy man's son. While I was there we, um, had relations. I became pregnant and was rushed back to Russia. I gave birth, named my daughter, and then she was taken from my arms and was placed in the nursery. I never got to hold her." Nat's eyes blossomed with tears. "It was very traumatic and hard to talk about. I'm sorry I never told you," she said tears pouring from her eyes.

Steve pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "Hey, hey its okay. I understand."

"Wanda," Tony says. "did you find out who the father is?"

She shakes her head. I don't even know that myself!

Tony stares at Nat expectantly.

"Tony," my mother says slowly and gently. "the mission was about your father."

Everyone in the room, including me, froze. Tony Stark, the man sitting across from me, was my father!

"No," Tony didn't look all that present. "no! There must be a mistake! She," he points a finger in my face. I recoil. "can't be my daughter! I don't have children! No!" Tony sits down and runs his fingers through his hair.

"The first time we," Tony vigrously points to himself and Natalia, "met was when you infiltrated Stark Indistrdies!"

She slowly shakes her head. "Tony," Natalia says gently as she walks towards Tony, "we met about ten years before that."

Natalia sits next to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I never thought I would see her again."

Tony and Natalia look over to me and I smile at them. Very sarcastically. Of course.

They roll their eyes.

Wanda asks the million dollar question. "What will we do with her?"

Everyone looks at each other and then towards me.

"Well," Steve slowly starts. "she's family so she will stay here. With us."

Natalia and Tony agree.

"When I looked in her mind, " Wanda thinks out loud. "I saw that her intentions are good but her perspective in altered due to her time in the Red Room. We need to help change that. She is good."

I snort. Sure, let her think that.

Nat bends over me. "I will take off your restraints but you to promise no funny business. That includes violence of any kind and anything involving the Red Room. Deal?"

"Deal," I quietly mumble. She really left no loopholes for me.

Nat frees me and takes me to a common area where everyone is waiting.

"Okay so," Tony wrings his hands. "Nat has a daughter. Her father is, um, me." Collective gasps from those that weren't in the integration room ensue. "She is a agent of the Red Room, the Russian organization that trained Nat. The reason she tried to kill Nat is because it was her mission. She is to live here and she promised that she won't do any funny business."

Tony gestures to his left, I assumed that he wanted me to speak.

"Um," I stay to my American accent because I don't want to remind them that I work for the KGB. "I'm Lucy Romanova. Um," I look at the floor. I get nervous in front of strangers when I'm being myself and not on a mission. "I'm 15 and I'm a Black Widow."

"Um, sorry, but I thought you said Miss. Natasha was the Black Widow, Mr. Stark." I look towards  the voice. My heart skips a beat. The voice belonged to someone about my own age. Brown hair and eyes, tallish, intelligent looking, strong but soft, and - Oh My God he's perfect. I've never felt this way before. I suddenly have to urge to look better, perfect for this angel in front of me.

I dare to look in his eyes. Dilated pupils - either he was a drug addict or he felt the same for me. My stomach feels all weird and icky. I wonder if I caught some American disease. I'll ask Natalia later.

Tony nudges me. I peel my eyes away from that angel and look at him.

"Nat just asked you a question."

Oh, I didn't even hear.

"Sorry," I say. "What did you say?"

"I was about to explain Peter's question but I asked if you wanted to explain it to him." Nat gestures to the angel - Peter, that was his name.

"Okay," I say still looking at Nat. "I'll explain it to him." I look back at Peter. He was still staring at me. I blush. "Black Widow is a ranking in the Red Room. It consists of the top agents who have successfully completed a certain amount of missions."

"Oh, thanks." Peter looks at his feet. "I have some homework so I'll see you guys later. Bye Lucy." The way my name rolled off of his tongue made my heart flutter once again. I definitely caught a deadly disease.

I wave goodbye. The others start introducing themselves.

The man with the metal arm started. "Hi I'm Bucky."

"I'm Rhodey."

"I'm Vision." another robot. Cool.

"I'm Clint." says a voice in the walls.

I jump and get on guard.

Natalia, Nat I guess, places a hand on my back to let me know I can relax. "That's just Clint. He likes vents."

"Cause they're cool!" Clint yells.

"Obviously," Tony says rolling his eyes. "you already met me, Nat, Steve, and Wanda."

I nod and yawn from jet lag and from the eventful day I've had.

"Hey Lucy," Nat says. "You must be tired. I'll show you to your room. Come with us Wanda."

You follow Nat and Wanda to the elevator and it moves up. The doors open to reveal the same floor Nat resides in.

"So this is my room," Wanda says. "You already know this is Nat's room," she points towards the door you knocked on earlier. "Steve's room is technically down the hall but he always stays with Nat." My mom hits Wanda on the arm for that comment. I guess the truth of her relationship with Steve is a joke of sorts between her and Wanda. I still have much to learn about American culture and relationships.

"This is your room." Nat opens the door to a room with windows and a bed. The room is bare save for a few books and light fixtures. By the window is a bookcase and a reading area. Another door leads to a large bathroom with both a vanity, a bathtub, and a shower. Wanda shows me the door to my walk-in-closet. It is large and even has its own chandelier.

The room is crazy! I admire all of the space I have to myself. At the Red Room, I shared a room with at least 20 other girls. Comparing the two, my new room seems almost wasteful, but I'm not complaining!

I can't stop thinking about Peter.

"Um," Wanda and Nat turn to look at me. "where's um the others room? Like, um, Peter's?"

"For an elite Russian assassin, you sure aren't very subtle." Wanda chuckles. "Peter's room is across from yours, but he went to the library to study."

"Ok, thanks." Something strikes me as strange about what Wanda just said. "Study for what? A mission?"

"No, for school." Wanda looks at me weird.

"Oh, right." Nat says. "You never went to school. I'll talk to Tony about enrolling you in Peter's school."

"Wait," Wanda starts. "if she never went to school before, shouldn't she start off with homeschooling?"

"Red Room schooling is different from here, " Nat explains. "They learn advanced maths and literature by the age of ten. They also learn to always be feared and the art of combat. It's not 'formal' schooling because it goes by skill, not age." Nat turns to me. "I'll have you enrolled in Peter's school and tell them to put you in the same classes." She winks at me.

"I need to tell you guys something." I tell them about how I feel sick.

Wanda and Nat laugh. They tell me that I'm not ill, just falling for Peter. I blush, I never let emotions get in my way, but I think it seems worth it sometimes.

Nat shows me how to start the shower and where the towels and soaps are stored.

"Thank you," I tell her as she leaves and closes the door.

I strip of my clothes and let the hot water and soap cleanse me of the day. The soft, plush towels dry my pale, olive skin. I put on the bathrobe and brush my hair. I truly looked at myself for the first time in a while. My normally brown, wavy hair is frizzy from brushing. My amber eyes have streaks of red in their whites from the long day.

I open the door and see a comfortable pyjamas laid out on the bed for me. I put them on, close the blinds, and slip into the soft sheets. My head sinks into the pillow and I can barely keep my eyes open. I handcuff my wrist to the side of the bed like we'd been taught as toddlers.

One last thought enters my mind before I sleep.

Perhaps this won't be so bad.

Then sleep softly and swiftly carries me away.

Your room:

Window seat:

Bathroom:

Closet:

(pretend there aren't any clothes in there yet)