Another average day in Stark Tower. I’m playing tag with my adopted sister, Maria, when I hear the door open.

“Dad!” I hadn’t seen him in a while. My adoptive father, Tony Stark, was finally back at the Tower. But it’s obvious something was wrong- he looks unhappy. In all honesty, he looks terrified. “Dad? What’s wrong?” I get the feeling I’ll wish I never asked.

“Sweetheart, remember Uncle Peter and how I told you he was going away for awhile?” My mind is spinning. Why is he telling me this now? “Manya…” I could barely hear him say my name. He dropped suddenly, landing on his knees and starting to cry. “Peter was shot and killed, right in front of me.” My heart dropped. Peter, only thirty years old, had been gunned down in front of Dad- who had also just lost one of his closest friends in the Battle of Wakanda. My red and black hair falls into my face as I stare at the ground, eyes burning with tears.

Why? I thought. My world was fine until Wakanda, and I hate that.

Maria came running into the room, looking worried. She takes a moment to take in the scene- me, trying to wrap my eight-year-old mind around my uncle’s death while holding on to my father, who mourns Peter as well.

“Dad?” Maria proffers the phone towards him. “There’s someone who wants to talk to you… it’s important.” Dad takes a deep breath, regaining his composure.

“Hello?” His voice still shakes slightly. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as possible.” He hangs up, with the “you’re coming with me and you better not complain” look. “We’re heading to Wakanda. Important mission, and you’re coming with me.” Maria and I both nod.

---

The jets lands and T’Challa greets us. I walk by Dad, holding his hand tightly.

“Is this about him?” Dad asks, and T’Challa chuckles slightly.

“As it turns out, he’s decided to wake up earlier than expected. I bet he would have stayed under longer, yet his healing time was extraordinary.” T’Challa’s face darkens and his voice lowers. “Not that we can tell the extent of the damage done, but it appears severe.”

“I have full faith he’ll recover,” Dad says softly, and T’Challa snorts derisively.

My mind wanders back to the war, when I was kept inside. There had been a boy, in a small chamber, almost like he was sleeping. My Wolf, Bucky, had been watching over him.

“My Wolf, shouldn’t you be fighting?” I had asked, scared that if he didn’t help, something bad would happen.

“No, Manya.” My Wolf pointed to the boy in the chamber. “I must watch over him.” I had slowly wandered over to the chamber, and placed my small palm against it. It was surprisingly cold. There was a beep from a tablet with wires that ran to the chamber, and I watched as the boy shifted slightly, like he’d felt my presence.

“Why is he in there?” I asked, turning to my Wolf.

“Because it’s not time to let him out yet.”

Snapping back to reality, I tug on Dad’s sleeve as we follow T’Challa.

“We’re here for the boy in the glass, aren’t we?” I ask, and Dad nods as T’Challa leads us into a lab, the lab where I saw him. This time, he’s awake, sitting on a table as people disconnect tubes from him, and Shuri stands in front of him, talking to him. She’s explaining something about nausea and dizziness, before checking something on a tablet.

It’s odd. Last week he was still, almost corpse-like and this week he’s alive as can be. His blonde hair is a mess- a train wreck. He looks over at us, and it’s as if he’s studying exactly who and what we are. His blue eyes are dull, almost cloudy, showing obvious pain, but his face perfectly still and painless. Dad stops in front of him, leaving me back by T’Challa.

“Hello, Phoenix. My name is Tony Stark, and these are my daughters. Maria, the taller of the two, is my biological daughter, and sixteen. Manya is my adopted daughter, and she is eight.” I give the boy, Phoenix, a small wave. He drops off the table, walking over to Maria and I. As he does, some odd instinct causes me to examine every small detail about him. His hair falls just to the top of his ears, and he has odd, symmetrical scars all over, from God knows what. He looks younger now he's not in the tank… maybe 11? What had he gone through? It was something I would probably never know.

“Dad, are we taking him home?” I ask. Something about this Phoenix scares me. He has a certain look to him that reminds me of… something.

“Yes, Manya. He will be living in the tower with us. I expect you'll be nice to him. If you do, I trust you will become very good friends.” Dad smiles. He heads off momentarily to grab something or other for Phoenix.

“Hi. My name is Manya. Nice to meet you.”  I say quietly while holding my hand out. He gave me an uneasy look before shaking my small hand. I smile at him as Dad comes back with a backpack.

“You’ll be back here soon for a check-up, Phoenix.” Dad says. “Ready to go, kids?” He says as he ruffles my hair. I giggle. I hold Dad’s hand tight as we head back to the jet, and sit near him on the left side of the jet near him. Phoenix distances himself, fiddling with the things in the backpack Dad got from T’Challa.

When we get home, Dad asks if I can take Phoenix up to his room.

“JARVIS, where’s Phoenix’s room?” I ask.

“The room below yours,” the AI informs me, and I grab Phoenix’s hand. He flinches. “Don’t worry. Dad will take good care of you.” I leave him to let him unpack. A small while later, he finally opens the door. “Hi! Ready to meet the others?” With a small nod, he lets me lead him into the main living room.

“Everyone, this is Phoenix. He’ll be staying with us. I hope we can train him properly, and he will become an important member of the team.” Dad says. Everyone seems excited to meet him, so Maria and I simply sit in the corner. Eventually, Phoenix wanders over, sitting somewhat near us. I decide to try and make conversation.

“So… how old are you?”

“Eleven, I’m pretty sure.” He says. For hours, Maria and I sit and talk to him, telling him stories about the members of the team and all their embarrassing moments.

I could tell we were going to be close friends.