Hearing a knock on her door, Elia closed her suitcase and slid it back under her bed. If it was the Warden at her door, she would slam it in his face and get back to what she was doing; if it was someone else she'd hear them out before politely saying she was busy and closing the door with normal force. She slipped on a sweater before opening the door, knowing that the air in the hallway was colder than in her room.

"Did you need something, Steve?" The tall man stood in her doorway, taking up most of it.

"No, but we were wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with us."

"We?"

"Mostly me, but the others agreed that you shouldn't have to be alone. Tony kind of insists."

"Thanks for thinking of me and all, but I'd rather stay here."

"Come on, how is being cooped up here all alone better than spending time with others?"

"In just about every way possible, I quite enjoy isolating myself in this overly large room. Thanks anyway, bye now." Steve sighed in a strangely 'you've left me no choice' way. Suspicious of the heavy release of air, Elia quickly shut the door. The loud slam of the door never came however, as it was held firmly by a strong super soldier hand.

Not expecting it and before she could react properly, Elia found herself thrown over Steve's shoulder and carried toward an elevator. The soldier carried her like a sack of potatoes, though with one of the weight. The position was probably more comfortable for him than for her.

"Mind putting me down?"

"Are you going to run for it?"

"No. I might walk or scurry away, but I won't run."

"You can get down at the couch." She could have kicked him or hit him, and if she used certain parts of her body, it could hurt him enough to make him release her. But Steve was only being considerate and trying to do something nice. So she merely squirmed a bit before finding a somewhat more comfortable position.

Elia wasn't sure how many floors they moved, or whether they'd gone up or down, but the elevator ride was short and when they stepped out they entered the main living area. On the television was some version of A Christmas Carol. The Avengers were scattered about the room, Stark was on the couch playing with one of his inventions, Thor was watching the screen attentively from his spot on the floor (though there was plenty of space on the couches), the assassins sat closest to the coffee table and were drinking what Elia guessed was vodka, and Banner was sitting in a recliner, smiling amusedly at the two stepping out of the elevator.

"Will you put me down now?" Elia asked, the embarrassment of her position only now being realized as she felt her face grow hot. The room's occupants turned to the newly arrived, none quite able to hide their amusement, least of all the billionaire who immediately cracked up at the sight of them.

"I said the couch, not two feet from the lift."

"Close enough. Please?" Several long strides had them at the expensive piece of sitting furniture. He gently dropped her on it, Elia grumbling all the while.

"How nice of you to join us," the Warden said still laughing.

"It's a one-sided sentiment," she replied in a less than friendly tone, getting up and making for the elevator, though instead relocating as far as possible from the man-child at Steve's pointed look which ordered her stay in the room. She may have been a teen without much respect for authority, but she deemed that he'd used a 'Captain America' look and that really was hard to ignore. So she sat quietly near Banner.

The movie didn't hold her interest for long, the monotony of yet another rendition of the Christmas classic only serving as white noise as she retreated into the sanctuary of her mind. She supposed it could be considered daydreaming or spacing out, Elia liked to think of it as tuning into a different station. All the other stations, like reality, were still there, she was just listening to a different one. Unfortunately the station she tuned into then wasn't a very pleasant one.

. . .

Everything was fuzzy when she woke up. Or when she thought she woke up. She wasn't too sure if she was actually awake or not. Everything was fuzzy, her hearing, her sight, and the things she smelled; it was all so unclear. Slowly, whether it was minutes or hours later, things started coming into focus.

Elia noted that she was in a bed, but it felt different than her own. This one was harder and the sheets felt wrong. She couldn't feel her fluffy blanket though she always slept with it, and she was aware of something in her arm every time she moved it slightly. The light in the room was bright, made even more so by the colorless walls which were far too white to belong to her purple and blue room. Once her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she realized she was in a hospital room. Why was she in a hospital?

Panicking, Elia tried to sit up but found that she couldn't. She could move her body parts a bit, but not enough to push herself up. Suddenly she realized that her right arm and leg wouldn't move. In fact, she couldn't even feel them. Try as she might, the two were unresponsive. It never crossed her mind what she might see until she turned her head to look at her unmoving limbs.

And when she did look, Elia screamed.

. . .

"–go to?" The station turned back to reality at the sound of Bruce Banner's inquisitive voice.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"It's alright. I asked what school you go to."

"Oh, I go to Lewiston High School. In Boston." She hadn't realized the Warden had been listening until he spoke up like the know-it-all he was.

"No you don't." Elia's inner self groaned, was the man really so ignorant?

"Yes, I do," she defended, keeping her eyes fixed on the corner of the maroon rug.

"You don't. You go to MIT," the irksome man persisted. Sigh. That had gotten the room's attention.

"Every other morning I do. The rest of the time I'm at Lewiston High."

And of course then came the incredulous exclamations of surprise.

"MIT, as in the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, that MIT?"

"But you're like, twelve…"

"Yep, I'm drunk. You win this round, Nat."

"You're joking, right Tony?"

Maybe this was still salvageable.

"Right, because a sixteen year old girl who's already been suspended three times this school year and prefers sleeping through physics rather than listening is totally going to get into one of the country's best universities. Might as well run for president while I'm at it I suppose." She forced every aspect of the statement into sarcasm, even throwing in an eye roll at the end.

"You've been suspended three times?" Steve asked slowly, almost menacingly. Huh, she hadn't thought this far ahead, so much for being smart. Though to be fair she didn't think Steve (or any of the Avengers) would go all 'disappointed-parent-who-wants-their-child-to-succeed-no-matter-what' on her. At least the Warden was distracted; it seemed that he was trying to figure out how to get the others to believe him. She sincerely hoped he failed in a fiery spiral of misery.

"They weren't very long suspensions…"

"You were suspended," he reiterated.

"I think we've covered that." Having Captain America glare at you wasn't an enjoyable experience, Elia noted. "It wasn't my fault," she said although it sounded more like a question.

"Why did you get suspended?" Bruce asked more kindly, yet still with a rather disappointed tone. Why did these people even care? They met her less than twenty-four hours ago.

"I broke a school rule."

"I'd assumed as much," Steve said continuing to frown at her.

"Did you get into fights?" the redhead asked, looking amused as she sipped her drink.

"Two out of three," she admitted, starting to play with her phone to keep herself distracted.

You guys don't have a hedgehog, where would that sort of urine come from? Might as well reply to her texts.

Is the microwave broken because of hedgehog urine? She'd already talked to Vince, so she figured she didn't have to reply to his message.

"What sort of fight? Was it a cat fight or an actual fight?" the archer turned away from his alcohol to fully invest himself in the conversation.

"Do you want to know about fight A or B?"

"Here!" The sound of Tony Stark excitedly calling for attention made them all turn to look at him. He had the television screen showing records of sorts, all of them Elia's. "See? She's got registration forms, an acceptance letter, and report cards. She does go to MIT and not some crap high school."

The room's attention was shifted from one thing to another, and though Elia felt momentary relief at no longer having her school behavior scrutinized, it only lasted just that – a moment. Because now she had to deal with people knowing that she was a university student, not to mention the very likely repercussions of having lied to superpeople (though she hadn't actually lied).

"Are those files real?" Bruce wondered aloud.

"You hacked into MIT's computer files," someone else deadpanned.

"Er… yes, but it was to prove a point." Then he turned to Elia with a smug look on his face. "Can't lie to me, little girl."

In response, Elia scowled and stuck her arm out. "Phone."

The Warden tossed the device to her and asked, "Why do you want it?"

"You used it to hack MIT, right?"

"Yeah." No one heard the teen's quiet, 'It's my turn now.'

Elia knew what she was doing; she'd done it enough times, too many if she was being perfectly honest. It wasn't always just for fun, but to her it was a puzzle, and Elia liked puzzles. Puzzles made her think and often made scenarios that real life just didn't have. But those were puzzle games, and what she was doing at the moment was definitely not a game. She still loved them nevertheless.

Wishing she had her laptop but making do with the StarkPhone, Elia skillfully entered the Boston Public School System. It was probably the easiest thing she'd ever had to break into. Barely five minutes had passed when she got to what she wanted and let her findings show on the television screen.

"What's that?" Elia wondered how the man could be considered a genius.

"I go to Lewiston High."

"That doesn't answer my question."
"Read them, Sir. I'm sure you can do that much."

No one spoke for a while as they read her school files. Every achievement, grade, detention, and suspension was up there for them to see. Bruce took the phone from her to open some other files.

"Why are you going to high school?" the Warden asked, his voice an amalgamate of emotions ranging from confusion to… anger?

"This may come as a surprise to you, but most teenagers attend high school."

"But you finished, graduated, moved on to other stuff."

"And then I went back because hey, maybe sitting through classes with people sometimes old enough to be my parent was starting to get to me."

"You didn't tell me," he accused, a little more anger colouring his voice. Elia finally looked at him, this man that was supposed to be her father, making sure her eyes were nothing but ice. Somewhere far away she thought she could see the others' bemused expressions.

"I tried. You didn't pick up when I called, or reply to my text, or my email, and I assume you weren't listening when Pepper told you, because I know she attempts to keep you informed of what I do."

Keeping calm was a skill Elia still had to work hard at. She thought she was doing pretty well so far.

Adding to anger was disappointment in his tone along with a dose of 'I expected more from you'. "I get a lot of calls and messages, why would I ever check all of them? And you never mentioned it any other time. Doesn't seem like you tried very hard."

Yeah, she'd have to practice staying calm some more. "Fuck that! If you really wanted to know, it shouldn't be so hard to tell you. I had other things to think about that didn't involve telling some drunken asshole that I was trying to be a normal adolescent."

She didn't look back when she stormed away and entered the elevator.

"JARVIS, take me up to my room."

"I'm sorry, Miss Quint, but Mr Stark has forbidden me from allowing you onto that floor." The voice almost sounded sympathetic.

"Is there a recording studio here? One for music?"

"Yes, would you like to go there?"

"I would. And don't tell Mr Stark where I am or I'll reprogram you to talk like a redneck."

"I highly doubt you can do that, my protection systems are top of the line." Elia got her phone out and started typing and tapping. Stark Tower was a frequent victim of her hacking expeditions, though she was never detected.

"I'm there, JARVIS, and you know it. I could completely shut you down if I wanted."

"So is seems, Miss."

"Do as I say now?"

"Of course. You'll be at your requested floor in 23 seconds."
"Thank you. And don't tell Mr Stark that I can do that."

"I will not inform him of the extent of your skill."

. . .

"I feel like we're missing something," Clint said once the teen had left. They all knew that there was more to Tony and Elia's relationship. People didn't argue like that with their girlfriend's godchild. They didn't get the chance to question Tony, however, as he had left in as great a huff as the girl, going up a flight of stairs to his workshop where soon they heard music blaring from.

"Found why Elia was suspended," Bruce announced, the screen now showing all of Elia's misconducts since ninth grade. "First one was in September when she got into a fight with another girl – older – and ended with the other girl shoved in a trashcan and rolling down the hall. Five day suspension then two weeks of detention."

"Just her? No help?" Natasha asked.

"Some kid supplied her with a garbage bin, but aside from that, no. Second one was in November. Another fight, this time in the school parking lot and against some football players; twisted one of the guys' wrists, broke someone else's finger, and fractured another's nose. Ten day suspension, followed by two weeks of detention, and two weeks of community service."

"I took her for a geek, not a fighter," Clint commented.

"She is a fierce one," Thor agreed.

"And the third?" Steve was more than slightly baffled with the information.

"About two weeks ago for causing a disturbance in the school library involving verbal threats; three day suspension and one week detention."

They contemplated things for a while, not saying anything to each other.

"Think we should talk to her?" Clint said, breaking the prolonged silence.

"Yeah, she's acted up a couple other times in other years," Bruce continued to look at her files.

The others agreed and set off to find the troublesome child.

. . .

Elia sat in the music room. It may have been built for recording, but it was also a great place for hiding. The room was sound proof, the security camera was easily covered, and there were no windows to exterior areas. From the storage room, which housed all sorts of equipment and instruments, Elia brought out a trumpet. One thing she loved about regular high school was the band program.

Elia wasn't an artistic person. She could draw plans for machines or for things she wanted to build, but ask her to draw a flower and it would look either very geometrical, or like the work of a blind four year old. She wasn't eloquent either and her words were usually a mess on paper (unless it was science related), but music she could do.

Music she could simply let flow and create. It didn't require intense focus or thinking outside the box to discover the answer. There wasn't a problem, so why would she go looking for an answer? Music wasn't bound by formulas or equations like the other things in her life were. There were numbers, and variables, and theory to know, yes. But they were different from facts of science and though to most that was such an obvious thing, to Elia is was a wonder.

So she sat on the floor, leaned up against a foam lined wall, in silence that was only disturbed by the notes of her trumpet. She didn't think about mechanical or chemistry problems, or people problems, or father problems.

There were no problems – there was music.

A/N: Salutations! Another chapter as I wait for my spaghetti to finish (must wait for water to boil, grr..) Feeling a bit scatterbrained with this story, but then again I feel that way about most things.

Thoughts?