"Wellll, here's the band room." Clint sighed as he opened the door to a raging storm of instruments' sounds and kids chattering. Suddenly, they stopped. The band teacher had silenced them.

"OK, class, do all of you have your sheet music for Swan Lake Scene Finale?" "...Yeah." Some random kid shouted in the back. "Ok, instruments up." All mouthpieces, from reeds to brass, were in someone's mouth.

"One, two, three, four, one, two, ready, go." A beautiful sound filled the room. Every single note was in harmony. Bruce's eyes widened to the music echoing across the room. "I have to play that good?" He whispered to Clint as he nudged him. "Chill, it's too easy once you learn." Clint cheered.

The other four caught up with them, panting and whatnot. They had just run a whole courtyard, after all. "Are we…. too…late?" Tony panted. "I fear we are, Tony." Thor replied, catching the others attention as Ms. Delilah shuffled her feet to the small forming crowd.

"You're all, with the exception of these two young men," she pointed her finger at Clint and Bruce. "Tardy. Hopefully you brought your instruments, right?" She said, letting them in.

Tony pulled out a clarinet, followed by Natasha taking out her flute, Steve and his trumpet, Thor and his trombone. "What do you play?" Bruce whispered, finding a seat. Clint smirked as he pulled out a music book and two drumsticks.

"Now, class, we have a new student. Bruce, come introduce yourself to us, if you will." Walking up again, he gave a basic introduction to himself. Suddenly, the teacher began throwing random questions at him. "Favorite color?" "Yellow." "Outfit?" Bruce shrugged that one off. Why would he care about clothes?

"Food?" "...falafel." "Book?" "The Hunger Games." "Movie?" "...Zootopia." This is where he felt it got a little too far. "Any medical conditions?" Suddenly, a memory sparked in his mind. A very, very emotionally painful one, too.

"...borderline…. personality…...disorder…." He said as his eyes violently flashed from brown to green to brown again. Clint, Tony and Steve shared a look reading: You saw that, right? The trio nodded at each other, concluding their thoughts on that for a bit.

"What instrument are you interested in choosing?" Bruce shrugged to Ms. Delilah's question. "The flute, I guess. I really don't know." Ms. Delilah pointed at Natasha. "Yes?" Show this young sir to use a flute." "Ok." She said.

Grabbing her flute, book, and Bruce's wrist, she pulled him onto the stage, which was also in the cafeteria. After getting out a couple of chairs and music stands, they sat down. Natasha pulled out a spare flute.

"Here." She said, practically shoving it into his arms. "Assemble it. Like this." She slowly showed Bruce how to assemble a flute. "...what now?" Bruce questioned. "Play it. Like this." sitting in her playing position, played her Bb (B flat, for those who don't understand. When I type in # next to a letter, it is a sharp, not a hashtag. And lowercase b is a flat when next to a letter as well. Just clarifying.)

Her tone flourished from dull to bouncy. When she went back down the scale, it was even bouncier than when she went up the scale. "When you play, tongue like this. She made a string of air come from her lips. "Now you try." Bruce it his lip up to his mouthpiece.

Copying Natasha, he blew into the little hole. A solid sound came out. "What note was that?" He asked, as he put his flute down. "That's a Bb. Now try playing a higher note." "Umm, okay… I'll try."

As they played and read notes together, they finally decided they were ready. As if she was on cue, Ms. Delilah walked in on the pair packing away their instruments. "Well, I've showed him." Ms. Delilah frowned. "Don't pack up, I want to see what you can-" the bell's echo practically blasted off of the walls.

"Well it looks like we have to go, byyyyyeee!" Natasha yelled as she pulled Bruce and herself back into the band room, grabbing their things before the old lady could spot a trace of them again. "Go to Clint. You're about to go to language arts. Bruce groaned about this; it was his least favorite class.

A/N: Guys, I know it's been like, what, three weeks now? But, being in 7th grade is hard. Okay? So, 5 reviews (I'm not including my message)? Already? Thanks guys! Also, I'm open for story ideas, besides this one, so just PM me if you want a new story. Toodles- agonizingapple98