A/N: Here's chapter 2...I told you I wrote it! On to studying for my history quiz...

That night I barely slept. I tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. I had always fallen asleep easily in my bed, but it didn't feel like my bed anymore. It felt alien, as did the house around me. But it wasn't the house that was alien – it was me. I felt different, as though I didn't know myself. My identity had been stripped from me. I didn't even know my name anymore. It wasn't Lillian James, that was for sure. What would I call myself if my last name was a fake all along? Would my last name be Rogers? The word sounded foreign in my head, as if it didn't apply to me. I supposed it would; he was my father after all. The question still remained, though – would he even want to be my father? He had never met me, and I assumed he still hadn't been told about me. Parenting, I thought to myself, was a big responsibility, and this was a man who just years earlier was frozen in the Arctic. I wouldn't have been surprised if he was still adjusting to life in the twenty-first century, and wanted nothing to do with being a parent to a teenager. That just made me more nervous. Finally, after hours of lying awake, contemplating what was sure to be my doom, I forced myself to set an alarm, and went to sleep. If I was going to meet my superhero father the next day, I would do well to get some sleep, so I didn't end up looking like a sleep-deprived mess. With this thought in mind, I drifted off to dreamland.

I awoke the next morning to the opening chords of "Scarecrow", by the Counting Crows. Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of orange juice. Today is the day, I remembered with a start. Today, I made an impromptu move to New York. The washing machine in my stomach seemed to be on full power, so I decided breakfast was an option I would skip that particular morning. After quickly showering and dressing, I realized I still had a half an hour before the car came to pick me up. I realize I may have given myself off as an antisocial outcast who actively avoids all human interaction, but that is far from true. In fact, it hit me that I had neglected to inform my friends of my impromptu-forced move to the big city. They would be angry, I thought, but they would also be in school, so they wouldn't, in all probability, be able to react to their anger until I was safely on the way to New York. I decided that, though impersonal, I only had time for a group message, and typed, Hi. Won't be back at school, found out I was adopted, being moved to NYC. Miss you guys. It wasn't touching, only informative, which was exactly what I was going for. Perhaps it wasn't the best way of handling my situation, but I was so confused myself, I didn't know how else to.

Just then, as I was losing myself to thought, a large, expensive-looking black car pulled up in front of the house, and I saw a man exit. He looked familiar, as if I'd seen him on T.V. or something before, but he was still too far down the driveway for me to be able to discern any recognizable facial features. However, this would not plague me long, as the stranger was fast approaching, and as he came closer, the once-vague features solidified into the iconic face of ... Tony Stark? I was taken by confusion. Why on Earth would he be the one to come retrieve me? Sure, I was moving into his tower, but I suppose I thought that the prominent billionaire and genius would have better things to do than run around picking up the long-lost children of teammates. As he climbed the steps to the doorway, I gripped the handle of my rolling bag a little bit tighter, hoping it would calm my nerves. He knocked once, twice, and I forced myself to steel my nerves and open the door. The handle felt cold against my skin... With the door open, I was greeted by a friendly smile that I knew concealed a wry, sarcastic nature. "You must be Miss. Lillian Rogers." Lillian Rogers. Although the name sounded odd and foreign in my head the night before, when he said it, it sounded less so. These thoughts only took a matter of seconds to flash through my head before I replied, "Yes, I am. Mr. Tony Stark, I presume." He grinned at this. "You presume correctly." "Are you here to take me to New York?" Here, the grin evolved into a sly, mischievous smile. "Yup." My brain finally put the pieces together. "My father has no idea, does he?" "Well, technically he's on a mission right now, and won't be back for three weeks, so we couldn't tell him. Not that we made any effort to." I sighed. "Let's go then." The ride to the airport was awkward, to say the least. All I wanted to do was retreat into myself and read a book. However, I kept myself from doing so, rationalizing my decision with the simple fact that over the next few weeks and months, I was going to be spending quite a bit of time with people who would probably make me very uncomfortable, so I might as well get used to it now. Tony - er - Mr. Stark kept trying to make small talk, barely succeeding until he mentioned what was going to happen once I got the the Tower. "So – you must be curious about what's going to happen once we get to Avengers Tower." I think he saw the curiosity light my eyes. "Yeah. Curious, and a little nervous.", I admitted. I didn't know where that had come from; it's very unlike me to admit personal fears to complete strangers. Especially complete strangers who happen to be superheroes. "Like I said, Cap won't be there for a few weeks, so you'll have time to settle in before he gets there. Everyone else is at home, though, so you will get to meet the other Avengers and company. You won't go to a normal school – too much press; we'll all chip in to tutor you, though, so it'll be almost like going to school." I decided at that moment that this situation was far weirder than I had ever even imagined it being. I was going to be taught by the Avengers. My next question, though, was, in my opinion, vitally important. "Where am I going to stay?" Tony replied, "With your father, of course. Each Avenger has his or her own floor in the tower. Why? Did you think we were going to let you sleep on the roof?" I felt silly. Of course I was going to stay with my father. The whole point of me going to live with the Avengers was for me to go live with my father. Just then, the car pulled into the airport, and we got out. Tony led the way to the medium-sized private plane with the distinctive Avengers "A" on it.

As I boarded the plane, my nerves started to get to me. It was enough that my father was a superhero, but on top of that I had to go live in a tower full of other scary, intimidating superheroes. Tony seemed to sense that I wasn't really in the mood for talking, and he, mercifully, kept quiet. However, after about forty-five minutes, the tense silence began to get to me, so I said something. "What if he doesn't want me?" Tony looked up, surprised that I had spoken. "Who?" I cast my eyes at the floor and replied, "My father." Tony snorted, as though I was suggesting that we take a vacation to the Moon. "Your father? Not want you? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard in my entire life. He is so family-oriented. Don't be silly. Of course he'll want you." This did little to calm my nerves, "I'm not being silly. He was frozen in the Arctic until three years ago. He is still adjusting to the modern world. Do you really think he wants to have to raise a teenage daughter on top of all of that?" At this, Tony gave a kind of sympathetic smile, but I could see the sarcasm hidden behind it. "Don't worry so much. I have never met someone as loyal as the Captain, and I know he wishes he had some family of his own. You can be that family for him." "Are you sure?" "Positive."

For the remaining hour of the trip, we fell into comfortable conversation, he asking me about myself, what I liked to do, what I was interested in, and I bombarding him with questions about what my life was going to be like from here on out. Too soon, the pilot announced that we were going to be landing, and quickly after that I felt the familiar rush of the ground coming up to greet the plane. We got off the plane and were greeted by one of the airport personnel, who took us to a helicopter that Tony explained would take us to Avengers' Tower. The helicopter ride was short, only about ten minutes. Although it was significantly less awkward that the plane ride in terms of conversation with Tony, as we landed on the helipad, my stomach became a gold-medal Olympic gymnast.