p align="CENTER"Nicholas Barton-Romanoff: Rhinebeck, New York/p
p align="CENTER"br / /p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas stared at his fellow fourth grade classmates as they climbed on the playground and ran around the gated school yard. As usual, he hung back, sitting under the shade of a large oak tree with roots as big as chairs. It was his third week at Go Forth Elementary and he was still not "adjusting" as his mother and father continuously put it. The teachers, of course, loved him. He was polite, responsible, didn't get into any trouble. He simply did his work and minded his own business and waited until the last bell. The day was terribly boring. And lonely./p
p align="LEFT""Hey!" A boy jogged over to him. "Um...what's your name again?"/p
p align="LEFT""Nicholas," he replied automatically./p
p align="LEFT""We're playing kickball," the boy said. "Wanna play?"/p
p align="LEFT"There was a slightly nervous expression on his face and Nicholas' eyes trailed behind him to the teacher on recess duty. She was watching them intently, nodding in approval. It was obvious she'd made the kid come over and invite Nicholas to play./p
p align="LEFT""Sure," Nicholas said, remembering the rules of a spy. Blend in. Be somebody without secrets./p
p align="LEFT"He was unfamiliar with kickball, but after a few minutes of watching he caught on to how it worked. When it was his turn to kick, he kicked the ball so hard and so far that it flew over the iron gate several feet away./p
p align="LEFT""Our ball!" One of the other boys said, throwing his hands up in frustration./p
p align="LEFT"The teacher on duty blew her whistle, signaling it was time to go back inside, and the other children groaned. As the shuffled past, one boy frowned at Nicholas and said, "You're a freak."/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas wordlessly followed them back into the building and spent the remainder of the day spelling words he already knew how to spell, learning about the parts of a flower, and his least favorite part of the day- group work./p
p align="LEFT""Why do you never talk?" His classmates always asked him./p
p align="LEFT"Or, "What do you mean you've never heard of emNinja Force/em?"/p
p align="LEFT"Or, "How do you not know that song? Do you even watch TV?"/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas felt like he'd been abducted and dropped onto another planet. He didn't know anything about what was on television or funny internet memes. He didn't care about the parts of a flower or how-to papers (writing an entire page worth of instructions on how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich had been degrading). These weren't life skills. He cared about learning how to fight and survive. He cared about forgetting being "normal" and going back to SHIELD where things made sense. He could not believe that none of his classmates knew basic first aid or CPR. A lady from the American Red Cross had come into their gym period class and taught them. Nicholas had learned how to resuscitate another person when he was four. He couldn't believe that in a fire drill they moved in slow lines and didn't douse themselves in water first. There was a sink in every class room! He couldn't believe that kickball and tag were forms of physical conditioning, but sparring and combat training were not. There were even intruder drills. What good were they if nobody knew how to take down an armed intruder?/p
p align="LEFT"During the drill, the students had hid under their desks quietly with the lights off for what seemed like forever. If a gunman really was inside the school, Nicholas had thought, the lights being off would only aid him in confusing the attacker as he ambushed him from behind or above and rendered him helpless by attacking the pressure points on the body. A baby could do it!/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas wondered what Director Fury would think of how "normal" kids were being raised to function in society. No wonder SHIELD existed. If people were actually taught valuable skills, they wouldn't need a secret organization to look after them./p
p align="LEFT"At the end of the day, Nicholas waited with the other car riders for his father to come and pick him up. Even going home was a ridiculous process. A teacher on duty (more like a babysitter) had to walk every child to their parent's vehicle./p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas stood against the wall with the others on the lookout for the familiar jeep his father drove. When he finally saw it, a teacher called, "Wait, Nick!"/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas hated being called 'Nick'. He didn't mind his parents and the other SHIELD agents calling him 'Nicky', but 'Nick' was Director Fury's name. Of course, Nicholas knew he was named after Nick Fury, but still. This simple teacher had no right to call him by any nickname./p
p align="LEFT"He took Nicholas' hand like he was four instead of nine and briskly hurried him over to his father's jeep. It was humiliating. He even tapped the door, signaling they could drive away./p
p align="LEFT"His father wordlessly offered him a stick of gum. Nicholas took it./p
p align="LEFT""So how was it?" Clint asked, looking at him from behind a pair of sunglasses./p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas shrugged. It was so important to his parents that he be raised "normally" because it was only fair to give him that opportunity. His father reached over and tugged his ear playfully./p
p align="LEFT""I learned how to play kickball," Nicholas said, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him and ask no more questions./p
p align="LEFT"-/p
p align="LEFT"When they got home to the large two story house that was so much different than the apartment living quarters on the SHIELD base, Clint turned the ignition off, but made no move to get out. He took off his sunglasses and looked at his son./p
p align="LEFT""I know it's not easy," he said./p
p align="LEFT""Why did we do it?" Nicholas asked. "Why did we suddenly have to be like everyone else?"/p
p align="LEFT"His father sighed and put one hand on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it. Nicholas stared at him. His question had not been rhetorical. He expected an answer./p
p align="LEFT""Because it's fair to you," Clint said finally./p
p align="LEFT"" 'Fair'?" Nicholas' eyebrows raised up high. "Those other kids call me a freak."/p
p align="LEFT""You need to learn how to interact with them," his father explained. "Once you do, you'll have memories because you'll make friends and have fun."/p
p align="LEFT""I don't need friends," Nicholas replied hotly./p
p align="LEFT"His father smiled at him which made Nicholas madder./p
p align="LEFT""You sound just like your mother," he told him, opening the driver side door./p
p align="LEFT"They went inside and Clint made them a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches and opened a bag of barbecue chips. He turned on the television. emNinja Force/em was on./p
p align="LEFT""Change it," Nicholas said./p
p align="LEFT"His father changed it to an action movie. It was already near the end, but Nicholas didn't care. He liked the explosions. After the movie finished and his stomach was full, he felt a little bit better and went upstairs to do his homework. It was not hard-mostly tedious. The math he actually kind of enjoyed. Copying spelling words three times each, he did not./p
p align="LEFT"-/p
p align="LEFT"Some time later, he heard his mother's car outside. His father was now an insurance salesman and his mother worked as an interpreter for companies needing somebody to translate during conferences or business meetings or the local university needing one for a class or a hospital needing one for a patient's family. She could speak a number of languages which gave her work often. Nicholas hated it. His parents had once been a master assassin and hit man and then two of SHIELD's best agents. Now his father worked in an office and his mother wore a pencil skirt and translated business meetings into Russian or Arabic or Mandarin Chinese./p
p align="LEFT"He moved to his large window seat and peeked through the blinds to watch her walk inside. He heard her come in and speak with his father and listened as she ascended the stairs. She knocked on his door before opening it./p
p align="LEFT""Hey," she said, taking out her earrings./p
p align="LEFT""Hi," he relied, turning his head so she could catch his lips with hers./p
p align="LEFT""Dad told me you weren't feeling so hot," she said, perching next to him. "He said you were a little on edge."/p
p align="LEFT""Why can't we go back to SHIELD?" Nicholas asked. "I don't care about being normal or making memories."/p
p align="LEFT"His mother stroked some of his hair./p
p align="LEFT""Not yet," she said softly./p
p align="LEFT"She sighed and told him, "I would give anything to go back and have a childhood."/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas knew there was no point in arguing with either of his parents. Their minds were made up. They were going to live in the suburbs and go to work and he was going to go to school./p
p align="LEFT""Dad's starting dinner," Natasha said, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Should be ready soon."/p
p align="LEFT"After she left the room, Nicholas reached under his mattress and pulled out a spiral notebook where he kept all of his thoughts and ideas about how to get back to SHIELD, even if he had to run away and return alone. He tore out those pages and crumpled them up./p
p align="LEFT"He sat down and wrote, 'Ways to be normal'./p
p align="LEFT"He wrote down the rules of kickball and made notes about celebrities and internet memes. The very last thing he wrote before closing it and stuffing it back under the mattress was, 'live the childhood Mom never got to. Make memories and friends'./p
p align="LEFT"br / /p
p align="CENTER"To Be Continued.../p
p align="CENTER"br / /p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas stared at his fellow fourth grade classmates as they climbed on the playground and ran around the gated school yard. As usual, he hung back, sitting under the shade of a large oak tree with roots as big as chairs. It was his third week at Go Forth Elementary and he was still not "adjusting" as his mother and father continuously put it. The teachers, of course, loved him. He was polite, responsible, didn't get into any trouble. He simply did his work and minded his own business and waited until the last bell. The day was terribly boring. And lonely./p
p align="LEFT""Hey!" A boy jogged over to him. "Um...what's your name again?"/p
p align="LEFT""Nicholas," he replied automatically./p
p align="LEFT""We're playing kickball," the boy said. "Wanna play?"/p
p align="LEFT"There was a slightly nervous expression on his face and Nicholas' eyes trailed behind him to the teacher on recess duty. She was watching them intently, nodding in approval. It was obvious she'd made the kid come over and invite Nicholas to play./p
p align="LEFT""Sure," Nicholas said, remembering the rules of a spy. Blend in. Be somebody without secrets./p
p align="LEFT"He was unfamiliar with kickball, but after a few minutes of watching he caught on to how it worked. When it was his turn to kick, he kicked the ball so hard and so far that it flew over the iron gate several feet away./p
p align="LEFT""Our ball!" One of the other boys said, throwing his hands up in frustration./p
p align="LEFT"The teacher on duty blew her whistle, signaling it was time to go back inside, and the other children groaned. As the shuffled past, one boy frowned at Nicholas and said, "You're a freak."/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas wordlessly followed them back into the building and spent the remainder of the day spelling words he already knew how to spell, learning about the parts of a flower, and his least favorite part of the day- group work./p
p align="LEFT""Why do you never talk?" His classmates always asked him./p
p align="LEFT"Or, "What do you mean you've never heard of emNinja Force/em?"/p
p align="LEFT"Or, "How do you not know that song? Do you even watch TV?"/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas felt like he'd been abducted and dropped onto another planet. He didn't know anything about what was on television or funny internet memes. He didn't care about the parts of a flower or how-to papers (writing an entire page worth of instructions on how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich had been degrading). These weren't life skills. He cared about learning how to fight and survive. He cared about forgetting being "normal" and going back to SHIELD where things made sense. He could not believe that none of his classmates knew basic first aid or CPR. A lady from the American Red Cross had come into their gym period class and taught them. Nicholas had learned how to resuscitate another person when he was four. He couldn't believe that in a fire drill they moved in slow lines and didn't douse themselves in water first. There was a sink in every class room! He couldn't believe that kickball and tag were forms of physical conditioning, but sparring and combat training were not. There were even intruder drills. What good were they if nobody knew how to take down an armed intruder?/p
p align="LEFT"During the drill, the students had hid under their desks quietly with the lights off for what seemed like forever. If a gunman really was inside the school, Nicholas had thought, the lights being off would only aid him in confusing the attacker as he ambushed him from behind or above and rendered him helpless by attacking the pressure points on the body. A baby could do it!/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas wondered what Director Fury would think of how "normal" kids were being raised to function in society. No wonder SHIELD existed. If people were actually taught valuable skills, they wouldn't need a secret organization to look after them./p
p align="LEFT"At the end of the day, Nicholas waited with the other car riders for his father to come and pick him up. Even going home was a ridiculous process. A teacher on duty (more like a babysitter) had to walk every child to their parent's vehicle./p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas stood against the wall with the others on the lookout for the familiar jeep his father drove. When he finally saw it, a teacher called, "Wait, Nick!"/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas hated being called 'Nick'. He didn't mind his parents and the other SHIELD agents calling him 'Nicky', but 'Nick' was Director Fury's name. Of course, Nicholas knew he was named after Nick Fury, but still. This simple teacher had no right to call him by any nickname./p
p align="LEFT"He took Nicholas' hand like he was four instead of nine and briskly hurried him over to his father's jeep. It was humiliating. He even tapped the door, signaling they could drive away./p
p align="LEFT"His father wordlessly offered him a stick of gum. Nicholas took it./p
p align="LEFT""So how was it?" Clint asked, looking at him from behind a pair of sunglasses./p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas shrugged. It was so important to his parents that he be raised "normally" because it was only fair to give him that opportunity. His father reached over and tugged his ear playfully./p
p align="LEFT""I learned how to play kickball," Nicholas said, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him and ask no more questions./p
p align="LEFT"-/p
p align="LEFT"When they got home to the large two story house that was so much different than the apartment living quarters on the SHIELD base, Clint turned the ignition off, but made no move to get out. He took off his sunglasses and looked at his son./p
p align="LEFT""I know it's not easy," he said./p
p align="LEFT""Why did we do it?" Nicholas asked. "Why did we suddenly have to be like everyone else?"/p
p align="LEFT"His father sighed and put one hand on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it. Nicholas stared at him. His question had not been rhetorical. He expected an answer./p
p align="LEFT""Because it's fair to you," Clint said finally./p
p align="LEFT"" 'Fair'?" Nicholas' eyebrows raised up high. "Those other kids call me a freak."/p
p align="LEFT""You need to learn how to interact with them," his father explained. "Once you do, you'll have memories because you'll make friends and have fun."/p
p align="LEFT""I don't need friends," Nicholas replied hotly./p
p align="LEFT"His father smiled at him which made Nicholas madder./p
p align="LEFT""You sound just like your mother," he told him, opening the driver side door./p
p align="LEFT"They went inside and Clint made them a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches and opened a bag of barbecue chips. He turned on the television. emNinja Force/em was on./p
p align="LEFT""Change it," Nicholas said./p
p align="LEFT"His father changed it to an action movie. It was already near the end, but Nicholas didn't care. He liked the explosions. After the movie finished and his stomach was full, he felt a little bit better and went upstairs to do his homework. It was not hard-mostly tedious. The math he actually kind of enjoyed. Copying spelling words three times each, he did not./p
p align="LEFT"-/p
p align="LEFT"Some time later, he heard his mother's car outside. His father was now an insurance salesman and his mother worked as an interpreter for companies needing somebody to translate during conferences or business meetings or the local university needing one for a class or a hospital needing one for a patient's family. She could speak a number of languages which gave her work often. Nicholas hated it. His parents had once been a master assassin and hit man and then two of SHIELD's best agents. Now his father worked in an office and his mother wore a pencil skirt and translated business meetings into Russian or Arabic or Mandarin Chinese./p
p align="LEFT"He moved to his large window seat and peeked through the blinds to watch her walk inside. He heard her come in and speak with his father and listened as she ascended the stairs. She knocked on his door before opening it./p
p align="LEFT""Hey," she said, taking out her earrings./p
p align="LEFT""Hi," he relied, turning his head so she could catch his lips with hers./p
p align="LEFT""Dad told me you weren't feeling so hot," she said, perching next to him. "He said you were a little on edge."/p
p align="LEFT""Why can't we go back to SHIELD?" Nicholas asked. "I don't care about being normal or making memories."/p
p align="LEFT"His mother stroked some of his hair./p
p align="LEFT""Not yet," she said softly./p
p align="LEFT"She sighed and told him, "I would give anything to go back and have a childhood."/p
p align="LEFT"Nicholas knew there was no point in arguing with either of his parents. Their minds were made up. They were going to live in the suburbs and go to work and he was going to go to school./p
p align="LEFT""Dad's starting dinner," Natasha said, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Should be ready soon."/p
p align="LEFT"After she left the room, Nicholas reached under his mattress and pulled out a spiral notebook where he kept all of his thoughts and ideas about how to get back to SHIELD, even if he had to run away and return alone. He tore out those pages and crumpled them up./p
p align="LEFT"He sat down and wrote, 'Ways to be normal'./p
p align="LEFT"He wrote down the rules of kickball and made notes about celebrities and internet memes. The very last thing he wrote before closing it and stuffing it back under the mattress was, 'live the childhood Mom never got to. Make memories and friends'./p
p align="LEFT"br / /p
p align="CENTER"To Be Continued.../p