So I literally wrote this for the hell of it. Personally, there aren't enough good High School Au's or de-aging fics out there so here you go. Something to chew on in the wait.

This is the prologue. I have no idea where this came from but give me a buzz if you want more. Also, this fic is incredibly AU. All personalities have been exaggerated in order for the plot to progress. Anywho's, enjoy!

Pop-Tarts

4:17, Thursday, Interrogation Room One

If asked, Nick Fury was proud to say that nothing could surprise him anymore, thank you very much. In his years, he thoroughly believed he had seen it all. Among these things were three beginnings of the apocalypse ("God's sake Stark! Don't touch that!"), a battle between a God and a giant robot ("What do you mean you see Xena warrior princess?"), a filmed grudge match between two assassins ("This is what you get for picking up strays, Barton.") and a discovery that Maria Hill was in fact a skrull ("Knew it. She's never that nice").

He wasn't the sort of man who would look at a six foot scientist-turned-lizard and say, "That's impossible". No, he was the sort of man who would look at a six foot scientist-turned-lizard and say, "That is a scientist-turned-lizard, men. Revert to standard procedure."

So yes, it was a widely known fact that nothing in the universe could surprise S.H.I.E.L.D's esteemed Director. Or so everyone thought.

It was in the Helicarrier, on a particularly average day, that the impossible was proven possible. Director Fury was surprised. And it wasn't the typical surprise one might feel when walking in on a secret party. No, It was the time slowing, jaw dropping, 'I must've died to be seeing this" surprise that made people consider their sanity.

You see, he was standing in an observation room. Agents Sitwell and Hill flanked his sides as he gawked at what was beyond the one sided glass that expanded over one wall. Across the glass and in the tiny interrogation room, sat a steel table. A bowl of pop-tarts was on this table. These weren't what Fury was focusing on, however. His attention was solely on the six teenagers that were crowded around said pop-tarts. Gangly, loud-mouthed and beyond obnoxious, these teenagers seemed to be just like those he walked past on the streets every day. There was just one, tiny difference.

They were the Avengers (aka, The World's Deadliest Team). As teenagers.

Fury watched, slack-jawed, as a younger version of Clint Barton attempted to slip his arm around a stunning Natasha Romanoff. A split-second later, she was holding him in an arm lock and hissing, "Try to touch me again and I'll kill you, Barton."

Thor, still larger then Fury despite being sixteen years old, was unceremoniously shoving pop-tarts into his mouth like cashews. Banner, who was squished between him and Captain Rogers, was looking a little green.

There was a tense moment. Fury opened his mouth, gaped at the air like a fish and then firmly snapped it closed. Agent Sitwell gave him a concerned look.

Finally, he managed to force out a strangled, "How?"

"Doctor Doom, sir," Hill responded. "He blasted the entire ship with an de-aging ray. Only a handful came out untouched."

"How old?"

"Most are in their late teens or early college years. The Avengers are the only ones this young, the oldest is Thor at sixteen and the youngest is Banner at fourteen."

Thor had finished his pop-tarts and Clint was once again making a move on an exasperated Black Widow.

Fury still hadn't moved. "And how long 'till we have a cure?"

It was Sitwell who responded this time. "We have all available personnel making sure we have a cure by the end of the month but..."

He trailed off, hesitant.

"But?" Fury urged.

"Well, our scientists only work in between their Mario Kart competitions."

Kudos went to Fury, who didn't even batt an eyelash. He sighed. "Alright, listen up. Here's what we're gonna do."

The two agents straightened.

"I want those six to be filmed night and day. And I don't just mean security cameras in their rooms. I mean fully trained operatives following each and every one of them with recording devices. I want their faces to be so full of cameras, they feel like they're on a reality show. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir!" they barked.

"I also want them to be interrogated hourly during daylight. Who knows what's going through their little pubescent minds."

A collection of nods.

After a few moments of no one moving, Fury shouted, "And I mean now, ladies and gentlemen!"

The pair let out a high pitched squeal and promptly scurried from the room.

When the door slammed shut, Fury squinted darkly at the six teenagers. He could only imagine what they were scheming because if there was one thing Fury knew, it was that teenagers were nothing but trouble. As if on cue, Stark turned to smirk through the glass, eyes glittering mischievously.

"From today onwards," he announced and he was god damn certain Stark could hear him, "We're at war."

Needless to say, it could no longer be said that nothing could surprise Nick Fury. Not. At. All.

Please review guys. I'd love to hear your ideas/suggestions and whether I should continue this. I haven't written the second chapter yet and I only have the barest of ideas of what to do next so watch out :) I might surprise you.

See you soon!