I'm currently sitting in the optometrist's office, praying that they have cute frames available.

Year One: It's Tradition

Camp SHIELD - 6:35 AM

Out of everything that was the same from back at the Academy, the shower setting made everyone feel back at home. It was the same communal layout with stalls, steam, and soaps. Xavier almost forgot he was at the dreaded Camp SHIELD. It feels like he's back at Hudson, about to head to class after he's done here, and can go find his friends.

"Someone took our clothes!"

Everyone, including Xavier, shot off the water. Through the fog from the showers, they step out and wrap their towels around. In the various spots where they left their training uniforms, they're empty.

Curses fill the shower space as they look around. They check each stall, underneath the pile of dirty towels, in the corners and vents. Nothing. At least they have their towels but it's quite the walk from here to their cabins. And the towels aren't allowed to leave the showers or else they'll get left in the dorms and nobody will have any towels in here.

Nobody noticed anyone walking in who wasn't still here.

A counsellor walks in, laughing like an evil mastermind. "Streaking across camp is a must. It's tradition. Every male Operations freshman class goes through it. I had to do it two years ago and you can make cadets do it in two years. Run to the main training centre and you'll get your uniform back. You run with a towel, that's all you get to wear for the day."

Xavier bites his lips at the slew of curses being thrown at the counsellor. He isn't one to swear yet he's not innocent of it, but fuck that guy. He looks at the other guys in the room with him. They're enraged because it wasn't one of their own who did that or even those Sci-Tech kids, it was their counsellors. Xavier recognizes some of them from his classes, but now wasn't the time for reconnecting.

"Anyone got a plan?"

Xavier doesn't have time to think because he's getting cold, hasn't eaten, and has somewhere to be in less than thirty minutes. At least he knows where his uniform is.

"You heard him," Xavier says. "It's tradition."

He drops his towel and sprints out the door. Thank the genetic gods for his father's super-soldier traits.

Not even five minutes later, Xavier arrives at the main training centre. Before he stops, his uniform is thrown at his face and he quickly puts it on. After zipping up his vest, he lies on the ground and catches his breath. He isn't tired from the running because that was nothing. It was the adrenaline of being completely exposed while sprinting across the open Ohio fields. He didn't see anyone because he was too focused on getting here, but anyone could've been out there. He pities the other guys more.

Once Xavier catches his breath, he looks up and sees one of his professors standing above him.

"You don't quite have your father's speed," his instructor says. He offers Xavier a hand and pulls him up.

Xavier shrugs. "No, but I won the better traits."

Before the instructor could ask, Xavier grabs everyone else's uniforms and heads right back out the door.

-o-

"Easy…" Daniel mutters to James. "Don't rush."

"Sometimes I want to rush just so you'd be quiet," James responds.

Daniel huffs. "Well, sometimes I tell you to slow down because you go too quick."

James rolls his eyes.

The two of them stand in a laboratory, working on an experiment that their professor projected the instructions to complete. Along with their classmates, Daniel and James wear lab coats, safety goggles, and gloves. James had to be reminded on many occasions to put his glasses and/or gloves back on. He didn't understand how Daniel wears glasses all day. Don't they add weight on his face? Maybe he got used to them after coming out of the womb with glasses. But Daniel holds the clipboard, taking down the notes they need for the report to hand in by the end of the class. James was performing the experiment. Maybe not the best choice but it's better than him taking notes.

James pours a translucent substance in a green solution that simmers over a bunsen burner. When the two liquids contact each other, they sizzle. James puts the test tube down and watches as nothing happens. James taps his foot restlessly as Daniel writes the observation for the report.

"That was anti-climatic," James says, disappointed.

"That's because you rush to conclusions," Daniel replies, not looking up from his writing.

"Well, excuse me if -"

James cuts himself off when he sees the beaker starting to smoke. He runs over to the fire extinguisher and points it at the beaker as Daniel remains calm and unfazed by all this. At one point, James gets too scared of anything threatening that would happen if that beaker kept on boiling.

"Take cover!" James says, throwing himself on top of Daniel for protection.

Both boys hit the ground, papers from their lab report flying everywhere. James covers his ears, curling in a fetal position with the fire extinguisher wrapped inside his body. Daniel merely sits up, gathers his papers and pencil, and continues writing. James looks at him and slowly unravels himself, realizing that nothing exploded. The beaker continues simmering.

"So it worked?" James questions.

"Of course, it worked," Daniel replies as if it was a given. "It's a science experiment that we're in charge of. I never doubted its success. We planned it out and followed the steps. How could it have gone wrong?"

James hates it when Daniel unintentionally makes him sound like an idiot. Because he does that perfect on his own. "Then why did it take so long and started smoking?"

Daniel grins. "Because you rush."

-o-

She preferred using a bow but they wouldn't give her one in first year. And yet they'll give everyone axes to throw at targets drawn on dead trees. Apparently, it saves the government some money if the trees fall so they wouldn't have to cut them down. Merida has nothing to argue about because she already lost the barter with her professor. It's a sharp weapon and she can channel her inner Apollo. Her professor didn't tell her that but that's how she got herself to shut up and start her target practice. Win-win.

Her arm is bent over her shoulder as her eyes focus on the target. She tilts her head a little and the butt of the blade taps against her shoulder blade. The surrounding noise is her classmates getting critiques and weapons hitting or missing the trees. It's peaceful and there's this rhythm to the randomness.

On her exhale, she brings back a memory of Apollo driving. She throws the axe as he makes the red light and it hits the bullseye when she and Apollo roar laughter.

Coming back to reality, Merida's proud of herself. She turns around and sees her professor looking at her with the grade book nestled in her arms.

"Your execution isn't as clean as your father's, Barton," she says as she writes. The comments are likely beside her name and not from the classmate next to her.

"Do I look like my father?" Merida asks. That came out a little ruder but she intended for it.

Her professor meets Merida's eye and points her pen at her. "Watch that tone with your superiors."

"My bad." Again, a little rude.

"And that attitude. At least fake it if you want to last."

Merida bites her lips together, forcing a toothless smile with a nod. She won't admit that's some good advice. When the professor goes to check the next student, Merida picks up another axe. She gets back in the stance to throw it but instead of picturing driving with Apollo, she hides a grin as she pictures her instructor.

-o-

For the first time at Camp SHIELD, the five of them found a minute to see each other. Since they didn't have cell service, they couldn't go into their group chat to drop a text about needing an existential crisis meltdown. Between classes and labs, they hide behind a cabin in a setting of trees with the familiar sound of screams in the background. For a second, they were almost unrecognizable. The Operations kids are in matching field uniforms without the bulletproof vests and holsters while the Sci-Techs are in their lab coats; James wears his field uniform underneath his lab coat. Before they start talking, they look at each other. Who will start the conversation?

"All our classmates have come from military schools, private schools, program-specific academies, and all that fancy stuff," Angela says.

"So?" Xavier asks, not seeing the issue.

James came from a private school but says nothing because it's not the time and he has nothing redeemable from it to prove a point.

Angela blinks, wondering why her twin doesn't get it. "We went to public school."

Merida shrugs. "Yeah, well, we're still at an advantage. Check out our names and our skills. Gotta love genetics and nepotism."

Angela shakes her head, irritated at all her friends. "You're all missing the point. SHIELD Academy is super competitive. Everyone here had to take a series of admission tests - psychological, physical, aptitude, written and oral tests, and have a freaking background investigation. We got accepted on an offered and full scholarship because we were born into this life."

"Shouldn't be that hard since we're the best," James says optimistically. "We could've easily passed all of those tests."

Angela shakes her head. "Our professors hold us to a different standard."

"It'll be fine," Daniel says. He's not sure if he believes his words. "We'll be fine."

"SA Babes," Merida mutters, grinning at the sound of their group chat's name.

"SA Babes," they repeat with smiles.

The part with Daniel and James in the laboratory is from PNG. And that last part with the whole group was in the sneak peek in Emily's story.