Arrival, 6:45am

"...and these children that you spit on,

as they try to change their worlds are

immune to your consultations. They're

quite aware of what they're going through...

- David Bowie"

Saturday...March 22, 2014. Shield High School, home of the New York Hydras.

Dear Mr. Pierce… we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us...in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, a prince, a loser, a basket case, a foreigner, an athlete, and a punk. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed...

Although spring had just started winter was still holding on tight with it's frozen grip. The school grounds were still dead and barren of any flora and the trees still frosted and asleep. The sky was, as it had been for all of the past week, a dreary grey, which was a complete contrast to the brilliant red classic Corvette convertible that had just pulled into the high school parking lot, its nice tan roof pulled up to keep out the biting temperatures.

A heavy but not uncommon silence hanging in the air between the two within. The brunette goateed teen was looking boredly out the window with hint of defiance in his posture while his sharply dressed mustached father sat up straight, hands angrily gripping the steering wheel as he drove. As soon as the shining vehicle came to a stop the passenger door swung open as the teen attempted to make his quick escape, an attempt that failed since as soon as his father had put the car into park he'd grabbed a hold of his sons arm.

"This is it, Tony, I won't be driving you to another detention again." He told him gravely.

Tony quirked an annoyed eyebrow at his father "I'm pretty sure this is the first time you've driven me." it's always been Jarvis, and hell, Tony's still surprised he's actually serving detention, since usually dear old dad here would get him out of it because-

"Anthony." he snapped "Do you have any idea what it looks like for me to have a degenerate for a son?" Howard asked.

Ah, there it is.

"This is your last chance, if I get one more call from Principle Fury about another one of your goddamn screw ups I will be taking the boarding academy back into consideration."

Tony's eyes widen and he quickly snatch his arm out of his fathers grasp as he glared furiously at him. "That would make life so much easier wouldn't? You won't have to look at my face anymore or even acknowledge you have a son!" he yelled as he got out of the car before slamming the door shut, ignoring his fathers protest. He was probably just worried Tony chipped the paint job.

As the young Stark stormed up the steps to the school building another much less valuable and slightly dinged up car pulled up. The dark haired bespectacled boy who sat in the back seat hadn't taken his eyes off his lap the entire ride here, his mother had been looking out the window, and his father, thankfully, had kept his eyes on the road. Now, though, they had been turned onto him, making Bruce grip his school bag tighter.

"Is this the first time or the last time this happens" He asked, eyes glaring darkly at his son through the rear view mirror.

"Last…" Bruce mumbles, his eye's still lowered.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you Robert!" He snapped, his tone causing Bruce to immediately look up and his mother to tense in her seat. "You are going to go in there and use this time to your advantage, I will not tolerate failure in my household, do you understand me?!"

"Yes sir." Bruce responds clearly. He bites his lip to keep from pointing out how you're not supposed to do anything in detention and instead gathers his things.

"I be here to pick you up at 4." his mother tells him softly as he steps out of the car and he can't help but sigh in relief at that knowledge when he reaches the school steps.

The Banners car was about to pull out only to hit the brakes and honk angrily at the motorcyclist who just pulled in. It's rider isn't surprised, as he tends to get that reaction allot as it seems everyone hates cyclist. He pulls up into his preferred parking space, not to far from the entrance and right next to a light post to chain his bike. The engine gives a wheezing sputter as he cuts it and he makes a mental note to check it out later. The old thing is practically held together with duct tape and love for the most part, having been bought second hand and half dead. But Steve spent three summers saving up for it so that made it perfect.

Steve shakes his head after removing his helmet, having actually remembered to wear it for once, though admittedly today it was more likely for warmth then safety. Steve dismounts the bike before pulling his scarf and the collar to his old leather jacket up in an attempt to keep out the cold. He hurried to chain up his vehicle, his thin fingers still stiff in his gloves from the drive. Steve knew his mother would have offered to drive him in this cold but he wanted her to not have to worry about getting up on her first day off in weeks.

He tugs on the chain lock to make sure its secure before standing and quickly heading toward the door, his nose and ears already aching from the cold, and the rings in them weren't helping. Steve takes the front steps two at a time to reach the door faster, which he came to regret when he had to pause at the top to catch his breath, 'damn asthma...'

He's about to turn back and head in when he noticed it, the blue ford that had just parked on the curb. Steve frowned. An old part of him wanted to wait here until the cars passenger caught up to him but Steve quickly dashes the thought. They guy would just walk right by him anyway, and those butterflies that use to dance around in Steve's stomach at the sight of him have long since died. So he squares his jaw, turns his back, and heads into the building.

The passenger of the blue ford frowned softly when he noticed the retreating back of the scrawny blonde disappear into the school. You'd think the idiot would be smart enough to wear a thicker jacket then that in this weather-

"James Buchanan, are you even listening to me?" A voice sighed.

Bucky looked back at his dad and gave a weak smile in apology, "Sorry dad, guess I'm still half asleep." he shrugged.

"Yeah, well, you should be, I mean…" he sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose "Bucky, look, I know kids do dumb things in high school, I did plenty of dumb things in high school, but you can't risk this. Colleges aren't gonna want to deal with a discipline case, you keep this up and you could risk bowing your free ride!" He exclaimed.

"I know, dad, I know! I-I didn't mean for-" He tried to explain, but it just wasn't any use.

"For what? To get caught?" He asked, his anger building, "Because you know this isn't just your future at risk, it's your sisters too! Your lucky that Couch Shmict got Nurse Zola to back you up on this or you might have been off the team! And then what Bucky? Then what? You know I only want what's best for you and this scholarship is it." He presses.

Bucky glared at the door, his lips pursed as he didn't respond, wanting the chance to just leave already.

Mr Barnes opened his mouth as if to say more but paused before sighing again. "Look, just get today over with, and if you put this all behind you I'll even lighten your sentence and let you go hang out with your friends Brock and Grant after the meet next week." He smiled.

Bucky nearly winced at that idea but took the chance anyway and nodded before finally unbuckling his seat belt and opening the door.

His dad still saw the near wince though and caught Buckys arm as he was stepping out of the car, "Hey, I know you might be mad at them but they care about you sport, they're real good friends." He assured with a half smile, not wanting their conversation to end on a bitter note.

Bucky looked back at him before giving the most honest smile he could muster, "Yeah," he agreed, "they're the best." He then took his arm back and stepped out of the car. He kept his head down as he walked up and into the school, ignoring the rest of the world around him outside of his conflicting thoughts.

This included the lone teen walking across the frosted grounds to the school. The frozen dead grass crunching under the steps of her black combat boots as the March wind tasseled her striking red hair. She didn't seemed fazed at all by the cold and you would think she didn't notice it at all if it weren't for the black hoodie she wore, though admittedly it might just of had been for the style.

She walked straight ahead across the parking lot and up to the curb, unflinching at neither the biting chill or the blaring horn of the car that just barely managed to break before hitting her.

The driver gaped in shock, her arm still extended over her bulky passenger, as she watch the redhead casually walk up the steps to the building, like she hadn't even notice her near death experience.

"Did Jane just hit someone with the car again?" a tired voice asked from the back seat .

"Nay, but just nearly." The big blond passenger chuckled as he looked down to where his underclassmen, Darcy, was laying across the back seat 'trying to take back some z's' as she put it.

"I never 'hit' you! I grazed you, remember? And you were just fine!" Jane insisted with a pout, seemingly recovered from the shock of having almost hit someone, again.

The blond, Thor, grinned. "As I was." he chuckled, and then his grin softened into a smile, "And thank you, Jane, for having driven me here so early this morning. You did not-"

"Oh no. it fine, completely fine!" She insisted waving it off. "I mean it was kinda my fault that you got a Saturday detention in the first place so it the least I could do really". She shrugged. "And again, I'm really sorry about that. The whole idea was so stupid to begin with, and I just-"

"It was no small matter Jane," Thor assured her, "I would be more than glad to do it again. And it is I who am sorry I couldn't have been of more help to get back what was wrongly taken from you." He smiled kindly to her, and Jane couldn't help smiling shyly back.

"Ok, can we please hold off on the puppied eyed pining until after I've had my morning Starbucks? I'm really too tired for it right now." Darcy groaned, her arm flung over her eyes in dramatics, or to keep out the light of the rising sun that had just started to peek through the dreary clouds, either one.

Thor chuckled and gave Jane one last smile of his before ducking out of the car. Darcy had sat up so she could catch the view as the 6'3 blond Scandinavian beef cake walked up the stairs to the school entrance. She couldn't help smirking when she caught Jane admiring the view as well.

When the final car rolled into the lot it didn't stay for long, as as soon as the blond teen got out of the back seat and shut the door the car sped off, the parents within not even bothering with a goodbye, or even have a nice day.

The teen, Clint, frowned as he watch the car speed away, then stuffed his hands in his pocket before trudging up the steps to the front doors. Not like his day could get any worse, right? He just needed to sit in the library for the next 9 hours, probably watch that Rogers kid draw for a bit (It is Rogers right?) he's in there just as much as Clint anyway.

Just another same old same old Saturday…. right?