"Are you seriously arguing with me about this stupid dance?" Clint asked indignantly as he walked into Natasha's room. The redhead raised an eyebrow and Clint hesitated by the doorway.

     "I just do not see the importance of attending if we're going in a big group. We might as well just hang out at our house for free," she argued. Natasha shook out a red pair of pants before folding it neatly and slipping it into her drawer. She reached for the next thing in her hamper.

     Clint groaned and pulled up her desk chair. "Really, Tash? It's a twenty-dollar dance in the gym. I can spot you the money if that's the problem."

     Natasha rolled her eyes. "The problem is that I don't want to go."

     Clint scowled and tipped the chair onto its back legs. "C'mon," he whined. "Steve and Bucky are only going if we go. Thor just got back and Bruce doesn't do dances. Pretty please?"

     "No," she replied. "If you want to hang out with Steve and Bucky so bad then go to the dance with them."   

     Clint spun her around and swiped the bra from her hands. He chuckled cheekily and placed it on his head. "I'll owe you one." Natasha perked up at that and Clint smiled. "Yeah, I'll owe you big time."

     Natasha snatched her bra off of his head and flicked him. "Stop taking my undergarments and I'll consider it."

     Clint raised three fingers and smirked. "Scout's Honor."

     Natasha closed her drawer with her hip and crossed her arms. "You will owe me if I go to this stupid dance? And you're paying?" Clint nodded eagerly and she dropped her hands. "Fine, fine. I'll go to the dance with you and the boys." Clint whooped and kissed her on the cheek. Natasha whacked him on the head and he ran out of the room. "You silly boy!" she shouted heatedly.

     "You know you love me," he cackled.

     Natasha scowled and pressed a hand to her chest. Her eyebrow twitched at the uptick in her heartbeat before she turned on her heel and continued doing her laundry. Natasha hesitated before lazily shoving everything in the drawer it needed to be in and sauntering out the room. It was her dresser and she could fold her clothes however she liked.

     Natasha pursed her lips and lounged on the armchair in the living room. Coulson nodded at her before disappearing around the corner with a mug of coffee and the newspaper. She placed her laptop on her lap and opened her e-mail. Her finals project with Stark was finally finished. No thanks to him. He hadn't come to school for the last two days and he'd bailed on their meetings in the library. She only semi-blamed him. If it had been before she'd decided to commit to her investigation, she would've walked right up to his house and made him watch her cut him open with a pair of scissors. However, Stark - though never one for punctuality - always showed up, and it was alarming that all she got was a two-word text. Whatever, it was done and ready to be turned in and he better thank her for months after this. Marie Curie would be proud if she were still alive. She sent it off to Mr. Strange and sighed. One less thing for her to worry about at the moment.

     With winter break right around the corner, teachers were cracking down on assignments. She had thought it over a lot during this past week and she considered herself lucky to have Tony as her partner before his recent disappearance. The kid worked hard and kept his focus and they made a lot of progress this week alone. She cranked out an entire project in two weeks with someone she used to outright ignore. Natasha blinked and pressed her lips together. She couldn't get attached again. Bruce was a fluke and everyone liked him. She was not going to take Tony in. She couldn't.

     Natasha mentally groaned and filed that away for later. She closed her laptop and stalked up the stairs. Clint slid down the railing with an impish grin and she rolled her eyes. Natasha tied a bright red jacket around her waist and situated a beanie over her ears. She glanced outside and shivered with excitement. The air was getting more of a bite and she could nearly taste more snow in the air. She slipped on her boots and headed to the window. Natasha frowned at the sight of Clint strutting out of the front door. She was not going to let him beat her.

     Natasha climbed out of her window and shuffled across the shingles of the small adjoining roof. She crept down the side and shimmied down the downspout. Her boots didn't make a sound when she dropped down and sauntered across the lawn with a blank face. "Loser," she teased when she passed Clint. He huffed and jogged up beside her. She patted his cheek and swiped the keys. "Winner gets to drive."

     He squawked, "When did that become a rule?" Natasha stepped into the driver's seat and he followed behind her on the passenger side. "That's not fair. You always win."

     "So I'll always drive," she deadpanned. "And it became a rule just now. You can check the rulebook."

     Clint leaned forward. "Where is it? I want to know how credible this is."

     Natasha smirked. "It's right here." She tapped her temple. Before Clint could start an argument, Natasha pressed the gas and sped out of the driveway. Clint shouted and buckled himself in with annoyance plain as day on his face. Her smirk deepened and she didn't slow down until they pulled up to the school. Clint's teeth were chattering and he had a white-knuckled grip on the seatbelt. She turned the car off and stepped out.

     Clint blinked rapidly before prying himself out of the vehicle. He pressed a hand to his mouth and placed his head on the roof of the car. He cursed loudly and raised his fist at Natasha. "You-I can't-Argh! Why would you do that? My poor baby," he crooned at the car. Natasha rolled her eyes. "Give me the keys, Nat. I'm serious. You're going to hurt her with your reckless driving habits."

     Natasha dropped them in the pocket of her red jacket. She spread her arms. "Come get them. I told you the rules. You can either beat me in the morning or pick them off of me right now. Come on, Clint. You know how easily I get bored."

     Clint wrinkled his nose and huffed. "Nah, you keep 'em," he grumbled. Natasha barked with laughter and headed to the school. She shook the jacket around her waist and raised an eyebrow. Clint scowled and followed her. "You don't need to rub it in."

     "I know," she replied.

     Natasha smiled back at him before turned back around. Steve waved from the top of the stairs and Bucky merely gave them a vague salute. Clint waved eagerly and Natasha nodded. She turned her head at the sound of Bruce conversing with Thor. Students milled around them and she narrowed her eyes. With her powers of persuasion, the two guys picked up their heads and smiled in her direction. She nodded and continued up the stairs. She glanced out of her peripheral to see Clint rushing to catch up, his fingers reaching for the right pocket of her red jacket.

     Natasha stepped to the side at the last second, her jacket swishing just out of his reach and leaving him grasping at air. Clint stumbled forward with a huff. She heard laughter around her and caught each of her friends' eyes. Clint scowled and spun around to shout at her, but his backpack collided with someone and Clint tripped forward. Natasha frowned at the prone body and stepped forward. Her eyes flicked to Steve and Bucky as they jogged down the stairs, and Bruce and Thor rushed over as well. The person whimpered, clutching at their stomach with one hand and their bleeding nose with the other.

     "Tash, I will get my keys back so help me-" Clint shut his mouth with an audible click and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He nudged her shoulder and whispered loudly, "Did that guy hit me?"

     Natasha gave in to the urge. "No, dimwit. Your backpack crashed into him when you decided to be a fool." He opened his mouth to protest that, no, he was not being a fool because she was the one who stole his keys, but she shushed him with a single finger. Natasha gingerly shook the body and said, "Hey, are you alright?"

     The figure nodded stiffly. "Just...peachy," they groaned. Natasha furrowed her brow at the raspy voice and reached for the dark shades blocking their eyes. The student recoiled. "Woah, woah. Uh, please d-don't do that."

     Natasha nodded and the others breathed a sigh of relief. The student sat up with some difficulty and Natasha pressed her friends back to give them space. They pulled the beanie off of their head and pressed it to their nose. Natasha pursed her lips. It had to be Tony. She couldn't see anything outwardly wrong besides the minor nosebleed due to all the layers he was wearing, but she knew something wasn't right. His voice was never that brittle and he didn't wear sunglasses. She could easily pick them off of his face before he noticed, but he'd asked her nicely. She had to respect that if she was going to get anywhere with her investigation. He was off the grid for two whole days and now he's suddenly at school being whacked by Clint's backpack. Coincidence, she thinks not. Her eyes locked onto Bruce and he pushed his glasses up.

     "Do you need help getting inside? Clint's backpack feels like a bag of bricks, trust me," Bruce said.

     Tony knitted his brow and his face turned up in pain. He hissed and pressed his beanie harder to his bloody nose. "No, I'm fine. You don't have to do that. I can handle it myself."

     "Are you sure? It looked like it hurt," he pressed. Bruce reached out for Tony's gloved hand and softly turned his palm over. Tony froze and his body shuddered so hard Natasha worried that he would fall to his knees. Bruce intertwined their fingers and smiled. "See? Let me help you. Okay?"

     Tony huffed shakily with wide eyes and allowed Bruce to lead him up the steps. "Th-Thanks," he muttered before the two disappeared into the building.

     Natasha looked at her nails and counted down in her head. Three, two, one... "What the hell was that?" Clint shouted. Natasha hit him upside the head and sighed. Clint jostled his backpack with a knitted brow. "My bag can't be that heavy. Is it that heavy, Buck?" Bucky let the bag drop onto the ground when Clint tried to hand it to him. Clint scowled and muttered, "That was rude. Steve give me Happy Bucky."

     Steve turned Bucky's face up toward his own. His blue eyes traveled over Bucky's face with intense scrutiny. He patted Clint's shoulder and smiled. "That is Semi-Happy Bucky. He just woke up so that's the best you're getting." Clint rolled his eyes under Bucky's blank stare. Steve shook his best friend's shoulders and laughed. Natasha resumed walking into the school and left them behind. Steve skipped the steps to catch up with her and he grinned. "Sorry, sorry. We'll be serious now. Clint's backpack couldn't have been that heavy."

     Natasha pushed through the doors. "Tony is small. That backpack probably felt like a freight train. He's lucky he only got a nosebleed, it could've been worse." She spun on her heel and placed her hands on her hips. The three boys fidgeted under her gaze and Bucky just stood there. Her eyes flicked to his metal arm and his eyebrow twitched. She snapped her gaze back to all of them. Students walked around them with barely concealed glances their way. Natasha's green eyes scared them all away. "Have any of you been doing something to him? Thor, you're free to go."

     Thor beamed before his face turned grave. He clapped Bucky on the shoulder and leaned close. "Good luck to you lads. It was a pleasure being your friend. Lady Natasha, I shall see you in the halls," he bellowed. The crowd of students parted for him like the Red Sea and he smiled and waved at them all.

     Natasha raised an eyebrow at the remaining three. Steve crossed his arms. "Why do you think it was us? You know me, Nat. I wouldn't hurt the little guy."

     "So, Tony is a part of the little guy? What happened to him being a bigshot billionaire jerk?" she snapped.

     Steve flushed a bright pink. "It's different now." Natasha took a step forward and he blinked. "He fainted in gym class with Bucky. Buck helped him out and we talked. W-We don't like him, but we aren't going out of our way to hurt him or anything." Natasha narrowed her eyes. "I swear, Tash."

     Natasha turned her fury onto Clint and he caved. "I haven't done anything aside from hitting him with my backpack. If I knew it was him, I would've never turned," he teased with an atrocious Jersey accent.

     Natasha rolled her eyes and headed to her locker. "Just...leave him alone today. I have a bad feeling about this."

     Clint tugged on her sleeve with a worried expression. "What do you mean? You can't seriously think my bag hurt him that bad."

     Natasha glanced over her shoulder in search of Bruce. "I know it didn't. Something is going on with him and it isn't right. He's out of school for days and now he showed up for finals. My gut is trying to tell me something, but I can't figure it out."

     Clint dropped his hand and shouldered his backpack. He stepped back beside Steve and flashed a small smile. "You'll figure it out. And...we'll help you."

     Natasha spun around. "You three? What happened to hating on Stark? No one can change in the course of days. Not even the charitable Steve Rogers."

     Steve flushed and Bucky gripped his hand. "As he said, we don't like him, but if something bad is happening to him we can't just sit around anymore. He...I don't understand him. One moment he's a snarky asshole, and the next he's this tiny kid who looks like he's about to be blown over by the wind. Nat, we can be an extra set of eyes and ears. We won't speak with him directly if that's what you'd like. Just watch from afar."

     "Like guardian angels," Clint snorted. Steve laughed uneasily and Bucky's lip twitched. "We'll be the damn best guardian angels Stark has ever had."

     Natasha pursed her lips at them. She stared them down, searching for the slightest crack in their story. If they were serious about helping this investigation, they had no time to lose. But if they were pulling some sort of sick joke she was going to make them watch her castrate them one by one. Natasha cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "Time for work, Charlie's Angels. We don't have a lot of time to figure this out."

[---]--[--]--[---]

     Bruce swung Tony's arm languidly as they walked through the halls. Students trickled around to and from their lockers, and teachers rubbed their eyes with coffee steaming from their mugs. He smiled over his shoulder and Tony averted his gaze.

     "You can, uh, just leave me here and head to class. It doesn't hurt that much anymore," he mumbled.

     Bruce frowned when Tony pulled his hand away. He tried to catch Tony's eyes, but the sunglasses had tinted lenses. Bruce bit his lip. "Are you sure? I don't want you wandering the halls in pain, you know." Tony bristled slightly. "It's fine, Tony. I don't mind helping you."

     Tony sighed and wiped the last trickles of blood from his nose. "I'm fine. You can go now," he replied. He looked up and Bruce almost flinched at the hurt in his words. He looked so small and defeated; as if he thought Bruce was going to leave him regardless. Tony turned away and Bruce fought the overwhelming feeling to follow him. "Just leave me alone, Bruce. It's better for everyone that way. I can look after myself."

     "It's not better for you," Bruce said. Tony continued walking away and Bruce didn't follow him. He cried, "Tony, who's going to look after you!"

     Bruce huffed and slammed his fist into the nearest locker. He smiled apologetically at the junior he'd scared. "Sorry about that. Just some pent up issues I guess," he joked. He smiled and she nodded shakily before scampering away with her books. Bruce sighed and texted Natasha. He ran a hand over his face and headed to his homeroom. "Jesus, Tony," he sighed.

     Bruce slouched in his chair with aggravation radiating from him. His classmates shot him worried looks but he didn't have the energy to convince them that he was fine. He was far from it. His want to help Tony was digging him into an even deeper hole than he thought. The kid was always on his mind and he was worrying nonstop lately. Bruce looked up at the sight of Thor coming into the doorway and he knitted his brow. This homeroom must be on Thor's new schedule. Bruce didn't mind that.

     Thor greeted the teacher and approached the other students, but he ultimately sat down beside Bruce. Bruce pouted and Thor patted his shoulder. "What's ailing you, Bruce? Has something happened with Tony?"

     Bruce placed his cheek on the cool surface of the desk to calm himself down. "Yes," he muttered. "He's being stubborn."

     Thor laid his face down beside Bruce's and smiled. "Well, I'm sure he's okay. He seems capable of handling himself. What harm can befall him in this building of learning?"

     Bruce scowled and pushed himself up. "A lot actually. I know you've been gone buddy, but you don't know Tony. He's...kind of a target to the others." Thor cocked his head and Bruce closed his eyes to reel in his anger. "They don't really like him and I'm not going to exclude myself from that. I only spoke to him in chemistry because he's smart and I never wanted anything to do with him after that."

     "So he was excluded from the groups?" Thor inquired.

     Bruce picked at the cuff of his shirt. "Yeah, I guess. Our group never physically did anything to him, aside from Bucky a few times, but we ignored him just like half of this school does. Thor, I saw him in the halls once and he was talking to the janitor and he looked so small..." Bruce shook his head. "Anyway, that's why we're trying to make it up to him now. Better late than never I guess."

     Thor pursed his lips and stared at Bruce. His brow was furrowed and his face was scrunched up in that way it did when he was trying to understand something confusing. "If none of you had prior dealings with him aside from James, then shouldn't it be expected that he'd be frightened of your fascination with him now? He must think you're all playing a cruel hoax or something."

     Bruce groaned into his hands. "Yeah, I know. That's why I feel so terrible. He shouldn't feel like we're trying to hurt him. I just..." Bruce trailed off when his phone buzzed. His eyes bulged when he read the text, and he read it over to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. He looked up at Thor with an uneasy smile. Thor leaned forward and Bruce snorted. "Oh, god. Poor Tony. He does not want these angels."

     Thor smiled brightly at him. "I believe young Tony will be appreciative of the help."

     Bruce shook his head. "Thor. Sweet, caring, Thor. You really don't know Tony at all. If he finds out the Three Stooges are following him around, he'll burst a blood vessel. This is going to backfire terribly," he groaned.

     "We shall see, Banner. I have faith in our comrades."

     "Of course you do, big guy. Of course, you do."