A/N: This will stretch from the gang's high school years to probably a couple of years short from the start of the series, something like that.

Tic. Toc. Tic. Toc. The sound was haunting, taunting the students as they waited for the bell to their freedom ring. "…And so Napoleon Bonaparte finally died i-" Professor McDavis was interrupted by the bell ringing. Quickly piling up their things and rushing out, Skipper, Kowalski, Rico and Private met outside. If anyone would've seen the four they could've never possibly guessed that they were special recruits-to-be for the Marines. Seeing that they were 17, they still weren't exactly allowed to enter, but Skipper's father had let them into the base sometimes to practice, promising to keep them some places for when they were 18. He was, after all, a Marshal (Highest rank of ground forces!). They were incredibly promising, and couldn't wait for the few months separating them from their birthdays.

Skipper, the self-proclaimed leader of the team, was ironically also the shortest boy. He'd already gotten some sort of military cut, giving the impression he had a perfectly flat head. Kowalski was the tallest boy, his hair a bit long and ruffly. He was the only one who wore glasses, thin, rectangular and metallic, giving him an even smarter look that what he already was. Rico had a long scar running across the left side of his face from an accident when he was only three, and he put on heaps and heaps of gel to make a Mohawk-like crest running along the middle of his head. Private, the youngest, had a little splash of freckles across his nose and cheeks and his hair was short but a little curly, giving him that innocent look he was so proud about. Even though they seem so different to you now, the other students were a bit creeped out by the fact they all had piercing ice-blue eyes, they all had black hair and were quite pale, and they all wore the same black jeans, white t-shirt and black bomber jacket, with the exception of Kowalski who instead wore a white shirt with his jeans and a tie.

"This lesson was even more boring than usual!" Skipper groaned, shoving his stuff into his locker. "If that's even possible." Private added, neatly placing his books in his own locker. "I actually found quite interesting as to how Napol-" Kowalski was interrupted when Rico smacked him on the back of the head to make him stop, but inadvertently made his glasses fall to the ground right when a young woman was hurrying by. "Awww nuts!" Kowalski moaned as he heard the sound of glass crushing. He was completely blind without glasses, Rico might've looked perfectly like Private right now. "Oh my gosh I am so sorry!" The girl picked up the remnants of his glasses and handed them to Kowalski bashfully. Kowalski could only vaguely make out she was female, but the others were completely dumbfounded by her. She was medium-height but slim, her long light-brown hair falling down her back in locks. She was wearing a beige dress with a brown jacket on top, cute oval glasses framing her hazel eyes. "No no, it's ok, I can still see quite well even without them…" Kowalski lied, not wanting to make the girl feel bad. "Oh ok. Sorry. I'm Marlene." She held out a hand, and Kowalski thanked the Gods he managed to find it and shake it. "I'm Kowalski." He replied, smiling. "Nice meeting you, Kowalski. I'm new here, but I hope I'll be seeing you around. Bye!" Waving cheerily, she headed off to the courtyard. "I'm hoping I wasn't the only one who saw her…" Kowalski muttered, awed. "Let's go. We need to get your other pair of glasses back home, or you'll bang into every person in this school." Skipper ordered, motioning for Private to hold onto Kowalski so he wouldn't hit something. "But…Skipper, we only have 20 minutes of breaktime, and our house takes 30 minutes only to get there…" Kowalski tried to object. "We'll be back here in 8, with Rico driving." Skipper replied, grinning.

They did make it back in 8 minutes, if you didn't care of the fact that their hair was horizontally blown off their heads now. Ruffling his hair, Kowalski was glad they'd managed to make it. He needed them for his chemistry class, or he'd blow up the school because of a measurement gone wrong. Passing an office, a boy rushed past them. "What is up with that dude? He always seems like he's being chased by a ghost…" Kowalski commented, looking at the red-haired boy running off. "He never talks to anyone, he seems frightened to the death every second of his existence…" Private added, puzzled. "We'll see what we can do later. Right now, we need to go get something to eat. I'm starving!" Skipper finished the conversation abruptly. He hadn't been able to get his coffee that morning because it'd finished, and he was going completely mental.

Looking across to the other side of the room, Skipper watched the teen from this morning dart his eyes across the room, as if scared out of his wits. They only knew his last name, Kjaer, but because the teacher had called it out while doing roll-call. Speaking of, he seemed particularly terrified when said teacher, Professor Simmons, walked by. Skipper felt a strange feeling in his gut when the teacher asked for the boy to follow him outside, and his instinct was never wrong. After twenty long minutes, the teacher came back in, calm as ever. Tensing, Skipper realized the boy had not come back in. Knowing better than to ask the teacher where the boy was, Skipper went for Plan B. "Rico, blood me up." Skipper whispered urgently. Coughing up a little tube of blood gel, he squirted some on Skipper's nose and another drop on a tissue. Grabbing the tissue and coughing loudly to attract attention, he spluttered out, "Sir! My nose is bleeding, can I go to the bathroom?" After the professor nodded in agreement, Skipper rushed out. As soon as he was in the corridor, he wiped his nose and threw the tissue in a bin. Searching the classes, he found no one. Cautiously approaching the bathroom he heard sobbing from inside. Grimacing but not at all surprised, Skipper pushed open the door and soundlessly walked in. Said boy was curled up on the floor crying, a bloody mess. Eyes widening in shock, he saw his trousers had been roughly shoved down, red marks scoring his legs. Laying a hand on his shoulder, the boy curled up more. "No! Leave me alone!" He whimpered. "It's ok. I won't hurt you." Skipper tried to sound as soothing as possible. Lifting his head up a little, the boy looked at him with his one good eye. "Wh-Who are you?" He asked, afraid. "A friend. Come on, get up." Pulling up his trousers gingerly, Skipper held out a hand to the boy. Getting up, the teen swayed unsteadily on his feet for a few seconds before his legs gave way. Anticipating that, Skipper caught him in his arms. Walking him over to the sink, he washed his face and as much as the rest of his body as he could. The boy curled up against him, still crying. Trying to soothe him, Skipper was interrupted when the door banged open. "YOU!" He yelled, turning around, with the boy still cradled in his arms. Seeing his tormentor, the boy started sobbing again, trying to disappear. Setting the boy down behind him, Skipper faced the teacher. "Seems like you've discovered my little secret…Too bad I can't let you go around and tell." The teacher grinned wildly, a hint of madness sparking up in his eyes. "I don't give a damn I'm supposed not to blow my cover by showing people my black belts in four martial arts, this dude is dead." Skipper muttered determinedly in his mind. The professor lunged at him but Skipper quickly grabbed his arm and slammed him down onto the floor, knocking the wind out of him. Grabbing hold of his neck swiftly, he pressed hard and the teacher immediately fell unconscious. The boy was staring wide-eyed at Skipper. "Let's get out of here. What's your name?" Skipper asked, pulling the boy up. "…Hans."