Sam Wilson inhaled deeply and put his hand on the door handle, retracting it quickly after a few seconds. He whimpered to himself, before furrowing his brow and inhaling, once more putting his hand on the door handle. He tried so hard to push the handle down, but it wouldn't go. He grunted softly.

"Okay Sam. You can do this." He said, taking a deep breath and pushing the door open, closing his eyes and holding his breath as he walked through. All noise from behind the door stopped and when Sam opened his eyes, he realized why. All eyes were on him.

"You must be Sam Wilson." A kindly voice said with a slight accent that Sam couldn't place.

Sam looked up at the man addressing him and nodded.

"I'll be your teacher, Mr. Selvig." The man said, smiling.

Sam nodded again.

"Why don't you tell us about yourself?"

Sam looked at him again and shook his head fiercely.

"No? Well, okay." The man shrugged. "There's an empty seat over next to Clint and Phil, why don't you take that?" He offered.

Sam simply shrugged and found the empty seat and sat down. He raised his head nervously and glanced over at the two boys sitting next to him.

The boy on his left had light brown hair and he was wearing a black hoodie with a purple t-shirt. That's okay, right? After all, it's not pink.

The boy to his right was wearing glasses had dark brown hair-in fact, it almost looked black-and he was wearing blue jeans, a blue zip up hoodie unzipped just low enough that it exposed a Green Lantern t-shirt. Sam put his head down and noticed the boy was also wearing blue Converse. Sam didn't have to guess what this boy's favorite color was.

Sam looked over his shoulder to see a brown haired girl listening intently to Mr. Selvig and vigorously scrawling notes. Sam put his head in his arms and groaned softly. After a few seconds, he felt something tap on his shoulder.

"Psst! Hi!"

Sam looked up. It was the boy on his right-glasses boy.

"Yeah, hi!" He whispered more enthusiastically.

Sam looked at him stoically, not saying a word.

"You don't know my name?" He asked.

Sam continued his neutral expression.

"I'm Philip, but everyone calls me Phil."

No change in Sam's expression.

"You like comic books?" Phil asked. "I love comic books!" He beamed.

Sam turned his head away from Phil and put his head in his arms again.

"Oh. Okay." Phil said, feeling hurt. "But Green Lantern is my favorite comic." He added, just so the new boy would know. Phil looked over at the boy to Sam's left and the boy to Sam's left looked over to Phil, who shrugged. They shared weird hand movements for a few minutes before Sam lifted his head and looked at their odd method of communication.

"What... What are you doing?" Sam mumbled.

"ASL. American Sign Language." Phil informed him proudly. "Clint is deaf. He can't hear so we use our hands to talk to each other."

"So you're friends?" Sam asked. He looked over at Clint, who smiled back at him. Quickly, he turned his head to look at Phil, who was moving his hands again. Sam looked quickly back at Clint who smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah. We have other friends, but we're friends with each other too." Clint happily said. Sam's eyebrows knitted together as he turns his gaze towards Phil.

"You said he couldn't hear."

"He can't. I said what you said, but with my hands."

"The word you're looking for, Phil, is 'translated'." Sam looked behind. It was the brown haired girl and she looked smug with herself. Sam looked back at Phil, whose eyes were closed.

"Thank you, Jane." He said sarcastically.

"Don't be snarky with me, Phil."

"Don't interrupt my conversations, JANE!" Phil said louder.

"Phil, Jane, is something going on?" Mr. Selvig asked.

"No, Mr. Selvig." The two said, sheepishly. Clint made some hand movements, which didn't go unnoticed by Mr. Selvig.

"Thank you, Clint." He said, kindly, moving his hands as he talked. Clint looked at Phil with his head cocked and a big smile on his face.

Sam looked confused and shrugged at the teacher.

"Clint informed me that Jane interrupted your conversation, though you really shouldn't have been talking anyway."

"Sir, I asked about 'this'." He said quietly, waving his hands as he talked.

"Ah!" Mr. Selvig smiled in realization that the new boy didn't know about Clint's communication issue. "Teachable moment, kids." He set down his textbook and picked up a dry wipe pen. He drew a stick figure. "Clint Barton," He began as he labelled the stick figure 'Clint'. "As most of you know, is deaf." He said, crudely drawing a picture of an ear and struck a line through it as he said 'deaf'. "He can't hear."

Sam saw Clint smiling and nodding from the corner of his eye.

"How do we talk to him and any other deaf kids?" Mr. Selvig asked. He looked around the room as he awaited a response. "You can't." He said. "So we use a different form of communication." He scrawled the letters "A", "S" and "L" on the whiteboard. "American Sign Language." He said, signing it out, slowly and carefully. "While all you that are able to hear can listen to my words, I can move my hands and body in certain ways that Clint is able to see my words. Sign Language is not standard. Other countries have their own versions, even English speaking countries."

Sam's eyes opened wide in awe. He had no idea about any of that. Sign language.

"ASL is primarily used by deaf people, mute people, people who can't talk or express themselves well, such as non-verbal autistics and their friends and relatives." Mr. Selvig picked up his textbook once again. "Of course, it would also be useful for spies and deadly assassins too." He added under his breath.

Sam turned to see Phil signing excitedly to Clint. Sam turned to Clint who looked down at his backpack before gently kicking it under his chair. He brought his finger to his lips and smirked mischievously.

Feeling uneasy, Sam asked "What's in there...?"

"You'll find out later." Phil's expression mirrored that of Clint's.

In the cafeteria that lunch time, Sam had just paid for his meal of pizza, fries and Jell-O and was looking for a place to sit when he heard a voice call out rather loudly; "Come sit with us, my new friend!"

He turned around and saw a boy with long blonde hair wave excitedly at him. Phil and Clint were also there. Sam figured that the blonde haired boy and the others were their friends and went to sit with them.

"H-hi." He stuttered.

"Hey! You made it!" Phil said.

He and Clint exchanged sign language with each other.

"What's he saying?" Sam asked.

"He said 'I still don't know his name' and honestly, neither do I." Phil said thoughtfully.

"It's Sam." He said, poking his fries listlessly with his fork. "Sam Wilson."

"Well, you know Clint Barton already, I'm Phil Coulson-but you knew that too." Phil smiled.

"I'm Natasha." A red headed girl said. "Natasha Romanoff and yeah, it's Russian." She smiled, as she ate a fry. "Because my parents and I are Russian immigrants."

"Steve Rogers." The short, scrawny kid next to him said. He had dirty blonde hair and big blue, expressive eyes. "And this is the best friend I have in the world, James Barnes." He said, putting a hand around a long brown haired boy. They both smiled.

"Everyone just calls me 'Bucky' though."

"Why?" Sam asks, looking puzzled at the pair.

"My middle name. It's Buchanan." Bucky shrugged as he lifted his pizza up to his mouth. Sam could see that Bucky's left arm wasn't real and it sent a brief shiver down his spine.

"I am Thor and this is my twin brother Loki!" Sam looked over to the other end of the table. It was the excitable blonde haired boy and he was wearing a t-shirt with the image of a Pop Tart on it, much like how Steve and Bucky were wearing matching t-shirts with stars on them.

"Indeed." Said a much colder voice. It belonged to a black haired boy. "I am Loki Odinson. And my brother is Thor Odinson."

"Yes!" Thor shouted excitedly. "I am the older brother!"

Loki simply rolled his eyes at his brother and growled quietly, but angrily. "We are the sons of Odin." He finished.

"Not really though? Right?" Sam asked nervously.

"Not really. Their parents were just eccentric when it came to names. Except their sister. She's called Angela. But their dad, he really is called Odin. Teaches here too." A boy sitting at the end of the table replied.

Sam was brought up not to judge others, especially since he was black, but the way this boy was sitting, eating, acting and talking said to Sam that this boy was selfish and annoying. "And what does 'axe-center-ict' mean?" He asked, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, come on, not everyone's as smart as you are, you know?" Steve said,

"It means weird. Strange. Odd. Out of the ordinary. Not normal." The boy arrogantly picked up a forkful of food and put it in his mouth. "Where are my manners?" He asked once he'd swallowed his food. "I'm Tony, Tony Stark-yes the Tony Stark, son of billionaire inventor Howard Stark."

Tony looked slightly embarrassed when he noticed Sam's expression of indifference. "Yes... Well..." He mumbled. "Bruce!" He whispered aggressively, elbowing the wavy brown haired boy next to him who had his nose stuck deep into a book.

"Bruce Banner." He said, looking up from his book. "I love science. Physics, biology, chemistry, psychology, anatomy-anything really. Science is awesome. When I grow up, I wanna be a scientist." He smiled, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"And I wanna be a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist!" Tony laughs. "And I'm already halfway there!"

"Give it a break, Stark!" A voice barked from the other side of the table. Sam looked over and saw another black boy, just like him.

"Who are you?" Sam asked.

"Nick Fury. Call me by Nick or Fury, I don't care." Nick gave a one sided shrug.

Sam noticed that Nick was wearing an eye patch. Great. "So one of you has one arm, another has one eye, does anyone have one leg?"

"No, but I got this!" Tony stood up and lifted his red hoodie and his yellow t-shirt to reveal his bare chest. Only there was something glowing light blue in the center of it.

"Do I wanna know?" Sam asked, disgusted as Tony lowered his clothes.

"It depends if you're into tales of swashbuckling pirates on the seven seas and...!"

"He was kidnapped for a ransom off his father, only there was bad communication between the kidnappers and Tony ended up getting blown up and now he has like metal grating around his heart… Or something." Natasha said smugly as she finished off the last of her fries.

"Aww. You're no fun, Natasha." Tony pouted as he sat down. "Yeah, it's a mini arc reactor and it basically keeps the bits of metal from killing me." He looked around at the puzzled expressions on his friends' faces. "It's a life support machine and I invented it for myself." He explained, in simpler terms.

"Wait, you built that, all on your own?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Mostly. I had a bit of help from my computer-and I don't mean Google-but yeah. Pretty much. The technology existed, I just made it smaller." Tony said, picking up his juice drink. "And fitted it into my chest." He added under his breath.

The short haired girl sat next to Clint spoke up next. "And I'm Maria Hill and yeah, I've got all my limbs and I've not got a weird heart like Tony has either."

Sam opened his mouth to say something.

"Or any other part of my body." Maria finished.

"I just noticed something." Tony said, putting his hands into the front pouch of his hoodie. "Rhodey's not here."

"Where has friend Rhodes been today?" Thor asked as he opened his lunchbox. He gave a disappointed sigh when he saw there were no Pop Tarts.

"I don't know, Brother. I haven't seen him all day." Loki said coldly, staring at his sandwich. He lifted the top slice of bread in disgust at the topping inside. Ham.

"Maybe he's sick." Steve offered.

"Sorry, but we're not all as sickly as you are, Steve." Tony said as a wicked smile flashed across his face.

Bucky noticed and stood up. With his eyes narrowed, he calmly began to walk over to Tony.

"Oh, come on, Bucky, lighten up. I didn't mean..." Tony was cut off by a punch to the groin.

"And don't you dare insult Steve again." Bucky said icily. "We don't like bullies in this group, Tony." He made his way back to his seat and sat down next to a shocked looking Steve.

"I'm not a bully!" Tony gasped.

"Good." Bucky said. "Because you would just hate to get a punch from my metal arm." Tony looked a mixture of shocked, afraid and like he was about to push his luck.

Phil decided to change the subject. "So Clint has something to show us all." He said with a smile. The table fell quiet as everyone but Sam signed frantically to Clint, who grinned back at them.

"It's in my backpack." He stifled his giggle as Mr. Selvig passed their table.

"What's in your backpack, Clint?" He asked, signing the words out.

"My uh... Homework, Sir." Clint said sheepishly as he bowed his head, his eyes still fixed on his teacher.

Mr. Selvig gave a disbelieving grunt, but said nothing more. "Very well, kids. Carry on." He walked away and everyone but Sam burst into laughter.

"I don't get it." Sam shrugged.

Clint noticed the shrug and stood up, before reaching down for his backpack.

"Clint, what are you doing?" Sam asked and Phil interpreted.

"You'll see." He replied with a smirk. Everyone else stood up and Sam couldn't help but notice that they were all grinning from ear to ear-even the cold and distant seeming Loki.

"Come on!" Phil grabbed Sam's hand as everyone exited the cafeteria.

"Now hold still." Nick said as he placed an apple on Sam's head.

They were all crowded around behind the dumpsters and had Sam backed against a wall.

Nick backed away with a smirk as the rest of the kids parted to let Clint through.

Thor jumped into a dumpster and emerged after a few seconds holding a weird looking bag.

Clint gave him the thumbs up and Thor jumped out the dumpster to hand him the bag.

"What's going on here, I...?"

"Come on!" Nick said authoritatively. "I said 'hold still', didn't I?"

Sam watched as Cling took something out of the bag. It looked like an arrow. But it couldn't be-he didn't have a bow. Clint put the arrow carefully in his mouth as he took something out of his backpack. What was it? It was a broken chunk of metal? Clint unfolded it and a look of horror flashed over Sam's eyes. It was a bow.

"I gotta get out of here, sorry..." Sam tried to escape, but Nick pushed him back to the wall and put the apple back on his head.

"What's the matter with you?" Nick said angrily. "I said don't move!" He moved out the way as Clint took up proper position.

Clint took the arrow from between his teeth and pulled it back against the bow. Breathing out, he released the arrow.

Sam saw the arrow hurting towards himself at top speed. He ducked and closed his eyes before hearing a *thunk*. He opened his eyes again and realized he wasn't hurt. He looked up and saw the arrow, in the wall of the school with the apple speared into it.

Sam looked over to Clint, who handed his bow over to Phil and began to walk over to Sam. Sam moved out the way, figuring Clint would want to retrieve his arrow. What surprised Sam was how Clint pulled the arrow out of the school with such ease.

Clint offered Sam the apple, but Sam declined with a shake of his head. Clint shrugged and took a bite out of it, still speared on the arrow.

"How... How did he do that?" Sam panted.

"Archery is his sport." Phil shrugged. "He's the youngest of two and he's deaf. He had to get noticed by his parents somehow that wasn't for pity, so he became a good shot."

"No, I meant the arrow." Sam clarified. "How did he take it out the wall so easy?"

"It's just cork painted to look like the school wall." Bruce said. "Clint practices here all the time."

"At school?" Sam asked, still not recovered from his shock.

"Yeah." Phil shrugged nonchalantly. "He can't get in all the hours at home, so he practices here too." He walked over to Clint and put his arm around his close friend, before giving the skilled young archer his bow back.

Phil signed a few words to Clint who nodded enthusiastically.

Clint pointed at his backpack and Loki, who was closest to it, picked it up and handed it to him. He folded up his special bow and put it carefully in his backpack before gratefully taking it off Loki. He waved before leaving with Phil running after him.

Sam was confused by the events that had transpired around him and turned to whoever was next to him and asked "What's the deal with those two?"

It was Maria that responded. "We all started kindergarten together. Clint was often by himself. We assumed he didn't want to play with anyone so we left him alone. In first grade, Phil got a new neighbor-their kid is deaf and Phil put the pieces together." She looked down. "He figured that Clint wanted to be friends and play, but didn't know how since he couldn't hear."

"Apparently, he got his neighbor to even teach him some basic sign language." Natasha interrupted. "Showed it to Clint. He was so excited that someone had taken the time to learn to communicate with him that they just instantly became friends."

"And since we were friends with Phil, we became friends with Clint, too." Nick added.

"Huh." Sam grunted thoughtfully.

"They don't really like to be separated." Bucky sighed. "At least not for very long. Although we all know some sign language, we don't really know it like Phil does."

"Bucky's right." Steve shrugged. "They're best friends, but Clint needs Phil more than he'll ever tell. But Phil needs Clint too."

"It's called 'symbiosis'." Bruce stated proudly, but everyone except Tony just stared at him blankly. "Uh… It's a relationship of mutual benefit and/or dependence." He explained. Everyone still stared blankly.

"Clint needs Phil and Phil needs Clint. They're both getting something from each other." Tony explains in simpler words. "Friendship, companionship, love…"

"Love! Eew!" The girls giggled.

"I meant like brotherly love, but yeah. Whatever." Tony sourly folded his arms across his chest.

The kids took their seats after lunch break was over. Sam knew that he was sitting in between Clint and Phil. When he saw them enter the classroom, he immediately stood up.

"Uh, Phil?" He asked nervously. "Do you wanna sit where I'm sitting?"

"Why?"

"I heard off Natasha and Maria that you're best friends with Clint. I don't wanna separate best friends." He mumbled.

"I'm used to sitting away from Clint. Actually, Mr. Selvig encourages it." Phil shook his head and smiled.

"Apparently we sign with each other too often." Clint said, sitting down at his desk.

"I thought he couldn't hear?" Sam asked.

"He can't. Well, not extremely well." Phil turned to Clint. "What is it? Eighty percent deafness?" He asked carefully.

"Yeah. Exactly." Clint nodded. "I can lip read, but not brilliantly."

"Wicked." Sam nodded back. "What's it like being friends with each other?" He asked.

"It's really normal." Phil replied. "When you move past the sign language, you see Clint for who he is, a normal kid who likes comic books, candy and archery." He shrugged.

"Huh." Sam grunted thoughtfully. He hadn't spent that much time with Phil, Clint and their friends, but already he felt that he belonged with them. Maybe it was because he wasn't bullied by them, like he had been at his other schools, or maybe it was that he felt like they trusted him with such personal information. Either way, it was a nice feeling.

"Class, take your seats!" A voice called out loudly from the front of the classroom.

Sam looked away from Phil and saw that Mr. Selvig had entered the room and sat down at his desk. There was an awful sound that filled the classroom of chairs scraping against the floor.

Sam cringed at hearing it, but noticed that his teacher didn't seem too bothered by it, figuring that Mr. Selvig had heard the noise often enough over many years-he looked pretty old after all-to be used to the terrible sound by now. He also realized that Clint for sure wouldn't be bothered by the noise and it was the first time Sam didn't actually feel sorry for him for being deaf. Sometimes it had its advantages, he figured.

As Mr. Selvig called attendance, Sam looked around for his new acquaintances. He saw Tony sitting in the far corner on his right. In front of him were the Odinson twins, the easily excited Thor and the cold and sarcastic Loki. At the front of the classroom, he recognized Steve and Bucky. Steve, because he's the smallest and scrawniest kid in the whole room and Bucky because he'd taken off his hoodie and his prosthetic arm was in full view. Sam could see someone in the front row turning to look at him with a redhead girl. He recognized the boy as Bruce, but not the girl.

"Natasha?" Mr. Selvig called out. A hand to the right of Phil shot up. At least Sam knew where she was sitting. He looked behind and realized the boy behind Clint was Nick and sitting behind him-doodling on a notebook-was the short haired Maria.

There were plenty in the class that Sam didn't recognize, or the names. He recognized Jane's name, of course, but who was Darcy? And Virginia? Carol? Jessica? Peter? Another Peter? That's going to be confusing. Hank? He didn't know there was anyone his age called Hank. Janet? Very similar to Jane and also confusing. James? James? James? Why were there so many boys called James? Stephen? Great, another double name. Sif? What kind of a name was Sif? At least it's not James. Sam's name was the last to be called out.

"Alright, kids! Welcome to English class!" Mr. Selvig said enthusiastically. He almost sounded like Thor. "Today we're going to carry on reading…" He picked up a book from his desk and held it aloft. "Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets." He set the book down with a *thud*. "But first, I need someone to deliver this note to Ms. Carter. I know I could just email her, but as you all know by now, she's very traditional."

Several hands shot into the air, with the exception of Sam's and Clint's. "Alright… Let me see." Mr. Selvig mused. "How about our very own… Star Prince." He said, going over to a table in the second row.

"It's Star Lord." The boy huffed.

"Yes, my apologies." Mr. Selvig said dryly and not apologetic in the slightest. A boy with messy brown hair stood up. He wore a red zip up hoodie that exposed a powder blue t-shirt and a set of headphones around his neck. He stuffed his right hand into his jeans pocket, snatching the note from Mr. Selvig as he exited the room, brown boots thudding against the floor tiles as he walked.

"Is he the type of person I think he is?" Sam asked as he leaned in to talk to Phil.

"Why? What kind of person do you think he is?" Phil asked.

"Jerk. Slacker. Just generally trouble."

"Nah, he's alright. Peter Quill. He's just acting out like that because his mom's sick with cancer." Phil whispered back. "He's got bags of personality, but he's a bit of a pushover." He shrugs. "There's a girl in third grade that he just lets walk all over him. Nebula Titan. Stay away from the Titans. They're trouble."

"Uh, I don't know who this Nebula girl is." Sam said, wondering what country this girl came from to have a name like that.

"Trust me." Phil whispered in a groan. "You soon will." Natasha leaned forward so Sam could see her and nodded vigorously, mouthing 'bad news'. Clint rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Uh… What are you talking about?" It was Jane from behind. Phil turned around.

"Nebula." He said, emotionless.

Jane winced at the sound of his name. "That girl's a hundred percent insane." She said. "She's in the third grade, but she's the same age as most of us. She just seems to think she can get away with picking on us because he's in a lower grade."

"Still." Another voice added. "She's not as bad as Shiro." Sam looked towards the direction of the voice and saw a small black haired boy sitting next to Jane. He was really small, like 'his feet didn't even touch the ground' small. Probably smaller than Steve. "Her sister Gamora's alright though-a bit weird, but alright."

"Yeah." Jane agreed. "The bullies seem to be in the lower grades. That way they can target the older grades and when we fight back, it looks bad on us."

"Scott would fight back for Alex against anyone." The black haired boy said. Jane shrugged.

"I'm sorry, who are Scott and Alex?" Sam asked.

"Scott Summers, fifth grade. He has four younger siblings. Nathan who's in third grade, Alex who's in second grade, Rachel, who's in first grade and Hope who's in pre-k." Phil said. "Scott isn't afraid of looking bad. Anyone who picks on them is getting a punch."

"Third and fourth row, I'm watching you." Mr. Selvig said.

Star Lord dragged his feet through the door and half-heartedly dropped a note onto Mr. Selvig's desk. He sat down at his desk and slouched into the chair with a long groan.

Mr. Selvig picked up the note and read it. He lowered the note and looked out at his class.

"I'm going to have to leave for a few minutes. Ms. Carter wants to see me personally." Mr. Selvig says after a few seconds silence. "Steve and Bucky are in charge." He says as he turns to leave the room. "Can't trust the rest of you." He mutters under his breath as he walks through the door.

Sam turned to face Jane. "I thought you didn't like Phil?"

Jane smiled. "Nah, he's alright. He can be a bit of an idiot, but he's fine."

"So who's Mrs. Carter then?" He asked.

"Not Mrs., it's Ms.!" Jane corrected, with a smile. "Ms. Carter teaches fifth grade." She said. "And Steve Rogers has a crush on her!" She said loud enough for Steve to hear. He blushed bright red.

"No I don't!" Steve looked down, awkwardly. Bucky was smiling, which was a good thing, especially given that his fist nearly went through Tony's groin earlier.

"Steve, you do. You can't really deny it." Bucky said, looking down on his diminutive friend. "I'm sure even Ms. Carter knows that herself-"

"Bucky, please." Steve said, looking up at Bucky with pleading eyes. Bucky turned to face towards Sam and Phil.

"He was having an asthma attack last year and Ms. Carter found him sitting on the floor in the hallway. She went to his teacher, Mrs. Rael and got his inhaler. Sat with him for a full ten minutes until he was okay again."

"Bucky!" Steve protested.

"What? She's not that bad looking." Bucky said, clapping Steve on the shoulder. Steve simply cringed and looked at his shoes. "I mean, for a teacher." Steve put his head in his hands. He was thoroughly embarrassed.

Sam turned back to Jane and the short, black haired boy, who was smirking. "So I didn't catch your name…" He muttered.

"James Howlett, but most people here-in fact everyone here-calls me by my middle name, Logan."

"Logan?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Logan sighed.

Sam turned away, shaking his head.

"Whatever, new kid." Logan snorted. "But when Nebula or Shiro are bullying you, I'll be the first one to beat their sorry asses into the ground, eh!" He shouted as he slid out from his chair. "I'll punch them and knock them straight into the garbage cans! I'm like a wolverine!"

"What's a wolverine?" Sam asked, turning around to see what Logan was shouting at. All eyes were on the small boy. And boy was he small, looking at least a foot shorter than everyone else in the room. Even Steve and was saying something.

"What's a wolverine?" Logan repeated. "A wolverine is an awesome Canadian mammal that's really small but has a lot of strength." He nodded.

Sam raised his eyebrow at the small boy in front of him. He was having a really difficult time believing this kid was strong. Cocky, maybe, but strong?

"Logan, back in your seat, please. Now." Mr. Selvig had re-entered the room. He had raised his voice and spoke firmly to Logan.

The short boy climbed back up into his seat and huffed as he laid his stubby arms out in front of himself.

Sam noticed that Logan's fingertips barely extended past the end of his desk.

"Where were we?" Mr. Selvig asked, picking up the copy of Chamber of Secrets that lay on his desk. "Yes, chapter thirteen." He said for the class to turn to the chapter. "Loki, would you like to start us off?" He asked.

Loki simply nodded.

Last period was almost through and Sam was looking forward to finally ending his first day at his new school. Since his father was in the military, this was his sixth first day and they never got any easier. But Sam knew that in a few months, he'd just have to wave the new friends he'd made goodbye as his father would be stationed somewhere else, meaning his family would be relocated to a new town. He felt someone tapping his shoulder. It was Phil.

"Wanna come get slushies with us after school?" He asked, leaning in.

"I ca-who's going?" Sam asked.

"Uh… Me, Clint, Nat and Fury..." He said. "I think Steve and Bucky are coming too. And I know Bruce definitely is."

"I uh… Maybe, Phil." Sam said after a pause. "My parents are kind of strict."

"What's your family like? I don't have a family-I mean, I do, but I don't. Clint has an older brother-he's in Middle School and his name's Barney…"

"Phil, you're speaking way too fast for me to understand a word you're saying." Sam sighed.

"Sorry." Phil blushed. He had to keep his excitement reigned in. 'This is why you're a misfit.' Phil scolded himself internally.

"You know everyone here, right?" Sam asked.

"I'd like to think so, yes?" Phil replied, not really sure where Sam was taking the conversation.

"Why are Bucky and Steve so…? Enthusiastic about uh… You know…?" Sam tripped over his words. "Hitler?"

Phil snorted and tried to cover it up as a sneeze.

Mr. Selvig narrowed his eyes at Phil.

"Mr. Coulson, I've never had a problem with you before. You're a very well behaved young man." He said. "So I would appreciate it if you stopped disrupting my class, please." He said, kindly but authoritatively. "Don't make me separate you and Mr. Barton further."

"No, Sir. It won't happen again." Phil muttered meekly.

"Good. Because the next disruptive noise I hear from you, I will be asking you and Mr. Pym to swap seats."

"Yes, Sir." Phil said, almost in a whisper, casting his gaze over to the blond boy on the right, sat at the table nearest the window.

Mr. Selvig returned to talking about Hitler and World War Two and writing notes on the blackboard.

Phil leaned in to Sam again. "What was it you wanted to know?"

"Why Steve and Bucky are so fascinated with Hitler."

"They're not really fascinated with Hitler, they just really love History." Phil shrugged. "They were the same when learning about the Civil War-but that even got the attention of Tony." He said as if it was some impressive feat. "So are you coming for slushies?"

"No." Sam said curtly.

Phil tried to hide the hurt he felt as he moved his body closer to his desk. "Oh. Okay then." He said, desperately trying not to act like his feelings had just been hurt.

A/N: So welcome to my new story. I've been in love with the Avengers probably longer than most of you reading this have been alive. Well, slight exaggeration, but it has been almost 13 years. I thought it would be fun to introduce it from Sam/Falcon's perspective, but it won't be solely focusing on him. The next chapter-which I've already written-is focused on Star Lord and Coulson. It's about the Avengers as elementary school students (and with the exception of Fury, older/experienced Marvel characters will be teachers), but it features characters and cameos from other characters from Marvel properties as well.

I tried to get the characters as close to how they would act in the movies/comics, but as all the Avengers are aged 9 or 10, it's pretty hard to do that. But each of them has their own stuff to deal with, as you'll find out. Whether it's Tony and his heart defect, Bucky and his arm, Clint and his deafness or Bruce and his... Well, you'll find out. I've given the Avengers their problems, but I'm also making them deal with them as children. If there's one thing I love about superheroes, it's the 'rise above it' attitudes.

There's no guarantee I'll stick with it either, since when I return to university, I'll lose a lot of time and have to work more on my essays and assignments. But I'll do my best to stick with it, since I see a lot of things I can do with this. Who knows? Maybe if I find the space and the right story line without it sounding too contrived, we might see a little bit of Doreen Green.

Lastly, I don't own any of these characters, they all belong to Marvel.