A/N: Ok, guys! This is my very first fanfiction, and I know that this is an unoriginal topic, but I guess I should add my own twist to it! The story should be updated every week or so, unless I say otherwise. AND YES, THE AVENGERS STILL HAVE THEIR POWERS! Now, without any further ado… here I go!
**omgosh I forgot the disclaimer!- Unfortunately, I own nothing associated with Marvel. Tear.**
Everyone hates being the new kid. Heck, having new parents, or should I say just being adopted was really tough. Living with his aunt, Susan, Bruce Banner was adjusting to living in a new environment. He was young and scrawny for an eighth grader.
"Bruce! Wake up! It's the first day at your new school!" His aunt yelled, running past his room and swinging his door open. A head full of brown curls emerged from the covers. Seeming a bit startled from the door banging on the wall, he began breathing a little hard. "BRUUUCE! I'M LATE FOR WORK! YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO WALK!" Susan shouted as the front door slammed behind her.
Groaning, Bruce groggily crawled out of bed and put on a solid gray flannel and his purple pants. After slipping on a pair of dogged tennis shoes, Bruce headed downstairs. Sauntering into the kitchen, he read the sticky note on the counter. Ugh. No breakfast. Bruce sat down and took a banana from the fruit bowl and packed his backpack with a binder, pencils, and… that's it, really.
He almost forgot his glasses. Nervous as ever, Bruce reviewed what he needed to do to keep his reputation quiet, given that he has really bad anger issues. That's why he transferred to a new school a while back. But this one? He was scared,even though he should've been used to it. Putting on his indigo backpack, he walked out onto the gloomy streets of New York. The school was only a couple blocks down the street, but it felt like miles. Finally, he arrived all by his lonesome.
There were many groups of teens. Bruce was staring all around in awe. He hadn't seen this since he was in the orphanage. Forgetting he was living reality, he bumped right into a short, pale-ish boy with sleek, black hair reaching his neck. Immediately startled, Bruce backed away. "I'm sorry… I guess I kinda, um, trailed off, I gue-" the buffer boy, standing next to the one he ran into, pulled his arm up. "Watch it, punk." After the Executioner, Loki's 'bodyguard' (or something like that, anyways) dropped him, Bruce looked mortified. Well, at least nobody was looking. Until he hit the ground.
Suddenly, a brown-haired boy wearing a black and purple tee started dying. It hit the rest of the student body like dominoes. Bruce blushed as people fell to the ground. From laughter. There went his 'quiet' reputation. Loki, the one he had accidentally bumped into, glanced over at him. "That will teach you to mess around with me." He muttered. Bruce's vision was faintly tinged green. No. Not now, not today, not ever… He thought. That whole fiasco took only about a minute or so, but it felt like millenias. The bell rang and everyone who wasn't already in the library left. Bruce's face was a bright pink hue (maybe some green…?). Tears began to fall down his cheeks. He got up and was headed to the office for his schedule.
Suddenly, the very boy who had caused the great laughing syndrome, if that's what it was, walked over to him, offering a hand. "Hey… I'm -" Bruce's grip tightened significantly harder on his backpack. "WHAT." He barked, just barely able to hold back a growl. The boy jumped back, pulling away his hand. "I-I was just gonna say sorry for laughing at you. That wasn't right." Walking into the school office with Bruce, the boy sighed. "There you are, sir. The brunette officemate looked up. "Clinton Francis Barton!" Clint sighed, humiliated by his own mother working in the office. "Yes, dearest Mom?!" He asked, bearing another suffering sigh. "Show this young lad 'round, would ya?" "Yess, mom." Clint grumbled.