They finally get through the questions, and they're one of the last groups to finish. They quickly clean up their lunch stuff, and head out through the cafeteria doors. Clint walks slowly, keeping pace with Steve who seems to be walking a bit stiffly.
"So, does anyone know what our elective options are?" He asks as they round a corner.
"If it's like last year," Tony speaks, "Which it could be totally different, but if it's not then it's going to be: Recreational Rocket Science; Sculpting; Intro to Architecture; Visual and Practical Effects; Hand to Hand Self-Defense; Foreign Language Crash Course; Culture through Food, Dance, and Holidays; Idea to Completion; Environmental Strides; or Everyday Technology."
They stare at him as they continue walking, and he just shrugs. "I've gone here for a million years, they've only ever changed a few courses since I started."
"Some of those sound really interesting," Bucky says easily. "I like how it's not just normal electives."
"Well, when you're paying 9k for a summer program, they have to make it worth your money's while."
Clint doesn't react to the number, he'd already known, but he watches as Bucky and Steve's eyes widen like saucers. Okay, so somehow their parents didn't tell them the cost. He'd worked all summer and had applied for a matching scholarship from his local aeronautics college. They'd agreed to help cover the cost if he agreed to attend their trade school when he graduated, which was the easiest decision for him to make.
They round the last corner and halt at the sight of 95 other kids trying to sign up for an elective.
—-
They decide to split up, looking at each elective poster board and coming back to discuss their options. Natasha follows Steve towards the left side, Bucky stays in the middle and Tony and Clint walk towards the right. They each agree to look at two boards and then come back to where Bucky is to decide.
Natasha stops at the 3rd and fourth boards which say: Environmental Strides and Recreational Rocket Scientist. She's reading the descriptions when she hears voices floating over the crowd.
"Culture through food and dance? Ugh, what is this school coming to? Like dance has any importance in the real world. Who comes up with these electives? They need to be fired."
Natasha tenses. Her jaws clench and she's prepared to ignore whoever made the asinine comment when a clear, unwavering voice cuts back.
"Actually, dance is incredibly important in most cultures, and the use of body language and movement has been passed down for centuries as a way to relay information and their histories. It's been around way longer than before what we consider modern technology." The voice isn't mocking, it's just a clear argument against what the previous kid had said. A quiet falls over the group to her left and she swivels her head.
She can see a hole forming in the middle and a kid with dark hair turns to face someone she can't see.
"And what do you know, you little pipsqueak?" The voice is a sneer and the nickname instantly has her on edge.
"I'm just sayin-" The voice is cut off as the older kid steps forward and pushes his opponent, growling out the next words.
"There isn't anybody here who wants to hear what you say. You got that?"
A steely voice is heard in return, "Just because you can't see the importance of dance doesn't mean you need to share your ignorance with everybody around you."
The quick bite of that comment leaves the crowd going "ooOoohh" and Natasha steps forward, trying to push her way through.
She hears a hard smack and then a thud of someone hitting the ground. She shoves further and finally breaches the circle of kids to see Steve, on his back on the ground, leaning on one elbow, wiping the back of his hand against his nose.
The kid, whose name Natasha doesn't know, steps forward and points a menacing finger in Steve's direction. "Stay down, runt."
Steve's eyes narrow and he glares the much bigger kid down as he pushes himself up and squares his shoulders, an almost intimidating glare as he speaks, "Never."
Natasha watches as the bigger kid steps forward, arms raised for another blow, and Steve just standing there, ready to take it. She steps forward, gracefully placing herself in between them and facing the big kid.
He jolts to a stop, surprise flitting across his face as he takes her in.
"Hi," She smiles sweetly, adding the touch of threat she likes to use against boys like him, "I was just wondering if you knew where I could sign up for 'how to beat up a kid smaller than me'?" She blinks innocently at him, "you seem like you would know where that is."
She lets the words sink in and his face goes from surprise to hatred real quick.
"Don't let your little brother out of your sight." He threatens, stalking off.
The tension and crowd dissipates as soon as he's far enough away and Natasha whips around to look at Steve.
A bruise is already forming on his nose and upper lip, blood dripping out of his nostril.
"What was that?" She says in a huff, feeling like an older sister.
"What was what?" Steve glares back, unwaveringly.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed? You just picked a fight with probably one of the biggest bullies in this program!"
"Well he can't just run his mouth."
"And you have to be the one to stop him?"
Steve's face shifts and he stares at the wall behind her. 'Well, no one else was."
She stops short at that and takes a deep breath. She has no idea why the thought of this little kid getting beat up, who she only just met an hour ago, has her so on edge.
"Thanks." She finally says.
His eyebrows lift in surprise. "For what?"
"For defending dance."
Steve's smile widens but his eyes are still confused. "Are you a dancer?" He asks.
Natasha's mouth gapes for just a moment before it stretches into a grin, "You didn't know?"
Steve shakes his head.
"Yeah, I'm in advanced ballet…" She stares at him, "You said at lunch that you couldn't dance… So why did you defend it?"
Steve gives her a look that clearly says 'isn't it obvious?' "Because he was wrong. And I hate when people are disparaging about the arts. Their value in society is unimaginable, and just because dancing is not tangible like a cell phone or the next biggest weapon, doesn't mean it doesn't deserve respect for how it influences society."
His face, sharp and bruised, blazes with sincerity and she has to hold her hand back from ruffling it in his hair. Instead she pulls her black long sleeve over her fingers and gently reaches out, wiping the drops of blood out from under his nose. He winces a bit, like it's tender to the touch, but doesn't resist.
"You think I can leave you here for two seconds without you starting another fight?"
Steve groans good naturedly at her. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Besides, he started it."
Her eyes narrow. "That's debatable." She walks back towards the boards she's supposed to be looking at, but keeps him in her peripheral. He dutifully studies his two boards and it's not more than a few minutes before they are heading back towards the center.
—-
Clint and Tony stand behind Bucky, reading the board over his shoulder.
"We're back" Clint hears Natasha say with a strange tone in her voice. Clint turns to face her when his eyes catch on Steve.
"What the HELL." He says loudly. Drawing looks from people around them. "Steve, what happened?"
"Nothing." Steve says adamantly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Natasha scoffs, but her eyes have a sparkle in them as she watches Steve.
Bucky and Tony finally catch what Clint's yelling about and Bucky steps forward, reaching out towards Steve's face. "Who did this?"
The implication lands heavily and Clint throws up his hands. "Was it the same kid who shoved you into a door frame the first day?" The three of them gasp and Steve's eyes go wide.
"How do you know about that?"
"I watched it happen."
"Well, I didn't know it was him until he just called me runt again. Then I recognized the voice." Steve's calm admission of this has Clint's blood boiling but he stays relaxed.
"The kid threatened him." Natasha adds lightly.
"Threatened him how?" Bucky exclaims.
"Told me I better not let him out of my sight."
"Then we won't." Bucky says immediately.
"Guys," Steve protests. "I'm fine. You think I can't handle a bully? Trust me, I've had plenty and look, I'm fine."
—-
Tony listens as Steve speaks, "I'm fine. You think I can't handle a bully? Trust me, I've had plenty and look, I'm fine."
"I don't think having lots of bullies equals being fine." He huffs. "What did this kid look like?"
"Tall, probably 17 or 18. Stupid skull t-shirt, and dark hair." Natasha states flatly.
"Ugh." Tony groans, "Really, Steve? You had to somehow pick a fight with Rumlow?"
"Who's Rumlow?" Bucky asks.
"He's been going here almost as long as me. His dad works in the government and I've seen the kid get away with highway robbery basically. He's not one to mess with."
"I'm not afraid."
Four pairs of eyes shoot towards Steve. His sharp cheekbones are pulled tight as he stares back, not giving an inch.
"No one said you were, Steve." Clint sighs. "Just… promise you'll be careful."
"Careful of what?" Steve waves his bony arms in the air, "What's he going to do? I'll be fine, bullies are bullies and I'm not going back down from calling him out on his garbage just because his dad works for the government."
"That's not what we're saying, Steve—"
"Can't we just discuss electives like we're supposed to?" Steve cuts him off, wiping at his nose again, clearing away the slow leak of blood and staring past them towards the elective boards.
Tony watches as Natasha and Clint share a look. He catches their eyes and raises his eyebrows. Bucky notices and his eyes dart between the three of them.
"Okay, Steve. Sounds good." Tony relents. "What were your boards about?"
—
Bruce watches as the groups each sign up. He'd come running when he'd heard a fight was starting, but by the time he'd gotten there, there'd been no fight to be seen. He tries asking about it, but kids just shrugged noncommittally or don't know.
—-
"Maybe I'll do sculpting. Would help with my hands-on practical skills for art class." Steve stares at the list, running the bottom of the pen across the tip of his nose.
"Or maybe Idea to Completion. Sounds like an interesting class."
They're sitting at their designated study table in the giant library. All around them kids are discussing the pros and cons of each elective.
"I think that a lot of them sound cool." Bucky adds, not being too specific.
"I was thinking about the Everyday Technology, or the Rockets one, but I agree that the Idea to Completion sounds cool."
"I don't know, I'm thinking the culture one could be cool, would involve lots of food." Clint notes.
Steve watches as Natasha raises her eyebrows at Clint. He just shrugs in return.
"Maybe Hand to Hand" Natasha mentions, decidedly not looking at Steve.
Steve goes to write his name down on the list. He gets through the first three letters when Clint speaks.
"Maybe we should all do the same one?"
When no one argues, Clint looks at Steve. "What do you think? You wanna do an elective as a group?"
Steve rolls his eyes. "You guys, listen. I don't remember signing up for the babysitter's club. We can and should choose different electives."
"Okay." Clint accepts.
Steve proceeds to finish writing his name down. He hesitates for one second before choosing the elective that's more out of his comfort zone: Idea to Completion.
He hands the paper to Bucky who starts writing. Steve tries to see what he writes but his vision doesn't let him read writing that small and that far away.
The rest of the group finishes writing down their choices.
"I'll take it to Mr. Banner." Steve offers, holding out his hand.
"I got it." Natasha says back, disappearing from the table before Steve can blink.
The bell rings and they stand up and collect their belongings.
"See you guys tomorrow." Tony says with a wave.
They each wave and part ways.
—-