The school day was already well underway, with only three classes left before everyone could finally head home. Right now, though, it was time for AP Chemistry.
As the class settled into their assigned lab stations, the teacher paired everyone up for the practical. Mary Jane ended up with Ned, Peter was matched with another student, and Gwen had her own partner.
Billy, meanwhile, stared blankly at the name on the assignment sheet before slowly turning his head toward the person sitting beside him.
'Of all people... why the fuck am I paired up with this douche?'
Wearing his lab coat and safety goggles, Billy tried to focus on the teacher's explanation at the front of the room. His efforts didn't last long.
Flash Thompson wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. Instead, he had twisted around in his seat and was busy throwing cheesy pickup lines at the girl behind him, wearing the kind of cocky grin that probably worked on a basketball court but felt painfully out of place in a chemistry lab.
'For a guy who cares more about sports and staying popular than actually passing class,' Billy thought, 'I might as well do this practical by myself.'
He resisted the urge to rub his temples. Flash's flirting was so awkward that Billy could practically feel himself cringing on the inside.
"Am I interrupting you, Mr. Thompson?" the teacher called from the front of the classroom.
'Finally,' Billy thought with a hint of satisfaction.
"Not at all, teach," Flash answered without missing a beat, casually turning back around as if he'd been paying attention the entire time.
He leaned slightly toward Billy and lowered his voice.
"Hope you aren't as dumb as you look. I can't afford to fail this class. If my GPA drops any lower, I won't be able to play Basketball."
Billy looked at him for a moment before replying in an even tone.
"Then maybe you should pay more attention instead of leaving your grades in the hands of the new student who's still catching up on everything you've already been taught."
Flash opened his mouth, clearly ready with some kind of comeback, but before he could get a word out, the teacher's voice cut cleanly through the brewing argument.
"Mr. Batson. Mr. Thompson."
Both boys looked up.
The teacher had walked over without either of them noticing. Dressed in professional attire with his hair neatly slicked back, he adjusted his glasses as he came to a stop beside their lab table, his expression making it perfectly clear he'd heard enough.
"Since this class is apparently far beneath the two of you," the teacher said dryly, "why don't you do the rest of us a favor? You can not only share your vast knowledge with your classmates, but also carry out today's experiment in front of everyone."
Billy's shoulders sagged at the sound of that.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.
"Teach, that—" Flash began, hoping to argue his way out of it, but the teacher simply continued speaking over him.
Raising a hand to adjust his glasses, the lenses briefly catching the classroom lights, he looked at both boys with an expression that left little room for negotiation.
"Should you fail," he said evenly, "detention will be inevitable for the both of you."
'Once again... oh, shit.'
Billy suppressed a groan.
'I wonder how Happy's going to react when he comes to pick me up and finds out I'm sitting in detention.' His thoughts immediately drifted beyond the classroom. 'Actually... the guys back at Avengers Tower are probably going to have a field day with this.'
Almost as though he'd somehow heard Billy's thoughts, Ned quietly muttered from his own lab station,
"Oh, shit. He's cooked."
Judging by the way he was looking at Billy, Ned clearly couldn't care less about whatever happened to Flash.
"But I have basketball practice," Flash protested, sounding genuinely horrified.
"Then I suggest you get off your backside and produce the correct results for this experiment," the teacher replied without missing a beat. "You're already walking on thin ice with your grades. Fail this class, and you can kiss the rest of this season's basketball games goodbye."
Neither Billy nor Flash looked particularly enthusiastic as they reluctantly pushed back their stools and made their way toward the demonstration table at the front of the classroom.
Before standing, Billy carefully clasped his hands together beneath the desk, discreetly reaching for his left wrist for a brief moment before letting go.
As they walked past the teacher, Billy slowed to a stop and decided to make one last attempt at avoiding what was rapidly becoming an embarrassing afternoon.
"Shouldn't I get a little leniency?" he asked, scratching behind his right ear. "I mean... this is literally my first time taking this class. I'm still a new student."
The teacher regarded him for a moment before answering.
"On the contrary, Mr. Batson. This is the perfect opportunity for me to see exactly what my newest student is capable of... and what he's still lacking before midterms arrive."
Billy released a quiet, defeated sigh before continuing toward the front alongside Flash.
"But," the teacher added, causing Billy to glance back over his shoulder, "since you are behind the rest of the class, I'm willing to offer you a little incentive. Something beyond merely escaping the shadow of detention that's currently hanging over both your heads."
Having reached the lab setup at the front, Billy raised an eyebrow, silently asking what exactly that incentive was supposed to be.
"If the two of you manage to produce a satisfactory result," the teacher explained, "your score on this experiment will be added to your midterm grade. Considering how much ground you still have to make up, I'd say that's a worthwhile opportunity."
Billy slowly narrowed his eyes, pursing his lips into a skeptical expression as he considered the offer.
Around the classroom, quiet murmurs rippled through the students watching from their seats, the entire class now acting as spectators to however things might turn out.
"Think of it as my way of showing a little leniency toward your situation as a new student," the teacher added.
Billy rubbed his chin thoughtfully, weighing the offer in his head.
"Detention... or a boost to my test score," he murmured, genuinely considering the choice for a brief moment before a faint grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah... I'll take those odds."
His answer stirred another wave of whispers throughout the classroom. Some students looked amused, others looked curious, while Gwen, Peter, Ned, and MJ simply watched from their stations, unsure of what Billy was planning or whether he actually had a chance of pulling this off.
"What about me?" Flash asked, pointing at himself.
"The same applies to you," the teacher replied. "Avoid failing this experiment, keep your grades up in your other classes, and you'll still get to play sports."
His expression immediately hardened.
"We don't have all day. Get started already."
This time his voice rose noticeably, stopping just short of becoming a yell. Raising his wrist, he pressed a button on his watch, starting a countdown.
"You have exactly twenty-five minutes to complete this exercise."
"Okay, teach," Billy answered as he stepped up to the lab bench.
Turning toward his partner, he found Flash frozen in place, staring at the assortment of beakers, flasks, measuring cylinders, and chemicals spread across the table as though they were written in an alien language. Tension was practically radiating off him. A bead of cold sweat slid down the side of his face while more gathered across his forehead.
With absolutely no confidence in his own chemistry skills, Flash silently prayed that Billy could somehow pull a miracle out of nowhere and save both of them from detention.
Billy, on the other hand, remained surprisingly calm. He adjusted the sleeves of his lab coat, then with exaggerated confidence snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, earning a few curious looks from nearby students.
Noticing just how nervous Flash had become, Billy finally spoke.
"Relax, blockhead. Just follow my lead."
He lowered his eyes to the workbook, quickly reading through the instructions before organizing everything they would need for the experiment with an air of composed efficiency.
"Sure..." Flash replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He held the workbook up to his face, pretending to study the instructions despite hardly absorbing a word of them. "But... what exactly am I supposed to do?"
Billy didn't even look up.
"Just do what I tell you, and we'll be fine."
Flash nodded almost immediately.
"Hand me that beaker over there."
Without a second's hesitation, Flash grabbed the beaker Billy pointed at and handed it over, falling naturally into the role of an obedient lab assistant while Billy took charge of the experiment.
- - -
Clint sat alone in the briefing room, fingers steadily tapping away at the keyboard as he sifted through page after page of data on his laptop. The quiet rhythm of the keys echoed softly through the room until the doors slid open and Natasha stepped inside.
"Come on, Clint," she said as she made her way toward him. "Spit it out."
Her voice pulled his attention away from the screen. He blinked twice, taking a brief moment to consider her words before looking up with an expression that was almost convincingly innocent.
"And what exactly is that?" he asked, his tone carrying just enough sincerity to make it difficult to tell whether he genuinely didn't know what she meant or was simply pretending.
"What have you worked up?" Natasha repeated, her voice remaining casual as she walked around the table and stopped beside his right shoulder, giving herself a clear view of whatever occupied his laptop screen.
"What brings you here, Tash?" Clint asked in return, making no effort whatsoever to conceal the information displayed before him as Natasha folded her arms.
"For someone who respects Fury as much as you do, you seemed a little too relaxed while giving your report. You said your investigation into Fury's disappearance turned up nothing—no leads or possible location. No info of the association that's ballsy enough to kidnap such a Fury, and do a good job at the concealment of their trail."
Clint didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and released a slow, exasperated sigh before rubbing the back of his neck.
"You know me a little too well," he admitted at last.
By then, Natasha had already taken in everything displayed across his monitor.
"Apart from keeping a possible lead to yourself instead of sharing it with the team," she said evenly, "it really sucks that you kept it from me too."
There was no anger behind her words, only an undertone of disappointment.
Before Clint could think of an apology—or another excuse—Natasha continued.
"So, why don't you make it up to me?" she suggested, her eyes still fixed on the screen. "Tell me what you've found... and explain why it somehow led you to dig through the NYPD database looking for an Officer McCall."
Her tone remained calm and almost conversational, but the implication behind it was unmistakable.
She already knew he'd uncovered something.
What she wanted now was for him to stop dodging the question and tell her what it was.
Clint recognized that look immediately. There was no sidestepping it this time. Any attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere would be pointless. Natasha had already connected enough pieces to know he was hiding something, and she wasn't about to let him dance around the subject any longer.
Besides, she wasn't just another Avenger asking out of curiosity. Natasha was one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s finest field operatives and arguably its greatest espionage agent. If there was anyone capable of helping him chase down the lead he'd uncovered, it was her. Working together was the most logical course of action.
Ironically, she'd already suggested exactly that earlier. Clint, however, had managed to skillfully dodge the proposal and steer the conversation away before giving her anything resembling an actual answer.
Unfortunately for him, it seemed she'd come back determined to collect one.
This time, Clint decided there was no point trying to dodge the conversation any further. Letting out a quiet breath, he filled Natasha in on the clue he had discovered hidden inside the chimney of one of Fury's safe houses during his visit the other day. As he spoke, Natasha listened without interrupting, mentally piecing the information together as only someone with years of espionage experience could.
Once he was finished, she folded her arms and considered the lead for a moment before speaking.
"If tracking down this officer could possibly lead us to a clue on Fury," she said, "then our best bet is to narrow the search to the officers who were on duty around that mall that night. From what you've pulled up here, there are two officers named McCall in the NYPD database that actively patrol areas around that region."
It was the logical next step, and Clint had already arrived at the same conclusion.
"Was just getting to that," he replied, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The two continued sorting through the information retrieved from the NYPD database, scrolling through personnel records, assignments, and patrol logs. The room fell quiet once more as both agents studied the screen with complete focus, searching for anything that could connect Fury's clue to the right officer.
After a few more moments, Clint's eyes settled on one particular profile.
"Well... would you look at that," he muttered as Natasha leaned in slightly, reading over the details herself before a look of quiet satisfaction crossed her face.
"I think we just found our next stop," she said. "Let's go pay Officer Bautista McCall a visit and see what turns up."
- - -
Standing at the front of the classroom before the watchful eyes of their classmates, Flash wore an expression riddled with anxiety. His foot tapped impatiently against the floor as he waited for the verdict.
Beside him stood Billy, whose demeanor couldn't have been more different. Calm and composed, he kept his hands tucked into the pockets of his lab coat, doing his best to stop the smug satisfaction bubbling inside him from showing on his face while the teacher carefully inspected the results of their experiment.
The classroom had fallen almost completely silent. Every student's attention remained fixed on the demonstration table as the teacher compared their results with the expected outcome in the workbook. It was obvious from the murmurs spreading across the room that many had already noticed the experiment appeared to be correct, but no one was willing to celebrate just yet. They all waited for the only opinion that mattered—the teacher's.
For his part, the teacher wasn't eager to admit that the newly transferred student was indeed that good. After watching Billy confidently take charge of the experiment, he had expected at least one mistake to expose that confidence as nothing more than bravado. Instead, everything matched the required results almost perfectly. He was already preparing to ask Billy for a detailed walkthrough of every step they had taken for the practical exercise when the bell rang, signaling the end of the class.
The sharp sound cut off his train of thought.
Letting out a quiet sigh of reluctant defeat, he adjusted his glasses before finally delivering his verdict.
"You've earned a quarter mark toward your midterms."
The announcement was immediately drowned out by the classroom erupting into cheers.
"Yes!"
Flash and Billy exclaimed at the same time, pumping their fists before turning toward each other and slapping their palms together in a triumphant high five. Their celebration, however, lasted only a second before the teacher deliberately cleared his throat, reminding them that he wasn't quite finished speaking.
The room gradually settled down as everyone's attention returned to the front.
The teacher looked toward Flash first.
"Seems luck was on your side this time," he remarked. "You should be thanking your partner. Thanks to him, you've avoided detention, you'll still be able to play football, and your chances of passing your midterms have slightly improved."
Flash glanced sideways at Billy before giving him a small, grateful nod.
The teacher then shifted his attention to Billy.
"And as for you..." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Welcome to AP Chemistry. I'll be looking forward to seeing your grades by the end of the session."
With that, he turned toward the classroom door, where a middle-aged woman stood patiently waiting. She was the teacher for the next period, and judging by the look she gave him, he had already begun eating into her class time.
The teacher gave the woman waiting by the doorway a brief nod of acknowledgment. She returned the gesture with one of her own before continuing down the hallway toward her classroom. She had merely stopped by after noticing that every student was still seated in AP Chemistry despite the bell having already rung to signify the change of periods, and now that things had wrapped up, she resumed making her way to await the arrival of her own class.
With that taken care of, the teacher turned his attention back to the students.
"That'll be all," he announced.
The classroom immediately sprang to life. Chairs scraped across the floor as students rose from their seats, gathered their books, stuffed notebooks into backpacks, and began filing out toward their next class, the chatter in the room steadily growing louder.
It wasn't long before Ned caught up to Billy and Peter in the hallway, the three of them joining the flow of students moving between classes.
"Didn't take you to be book-smart," Ned admitted, shooting Billy an impressed look.
"Yeah," Peter added with a grin. "I was already thinking of what kind of advice I'd give you since I figured you'd most likely fail and end up doing detention with Flash."
'Ouch,' Billy thought, inwardly wincing at the unexpected jab.
Shaking it off with a small chuckle, he shrugged.
"I'm just glad it happened to be a topic I was already familiar with. Looks like Lady Luck was on my side. Otherwise, I'd probably be getting ready to spend the end of the school day in detention."
'And by Lady Luck... I mean Fred, my dear AI companion,' Billy corrected himself inwardly, unable to resist poking fun at the fact that he'd technically cheated.
Before getting out of his seat, he had discreetly retrieved his nearly barely noticeable earbud and slipped it into his ear without drawing anyone's attention. The moment Billy quietly read through the assigned practical, Fred who was always listening had immediately understood the situation and began feeding him a detailed, step-by-step guide on exactly how to perform the experiment.
So while Flash had been diligently following Billy's instructions throughout the practical, Billy himself had simply been following Fred's. Commands had flowed smoothly from the AI to Billy, then from Billy to Flash, almost like a perfectly organized chain of command.
Thanks to the discreet earbud of which Billy had been cautious enough not to make any gestures that could draw attention to his ear and his calm demeanor, not a single person in the classroom had suspected him of cheating.
- - -
By the time the final bell rang, the school day had finally come to an end.
Thanks to a last-minute change of plans, I'd called Tony and asked him to let Happy know there was no need to pick me up after school. I told him I had an unexpected study session with a classmate, though I assured him I wouldn't be staying out too late.
To make the excuse sound even more convincing, I played the "I'm already behind because I transferred in late" card. I explained that if I wanted any chance of avoiding a failing grade this session, I couldn't afford to pass up an opportunity like this.
The whole thing had started after AP Chemistry. Following what happened in class, Gwen suggested we meet up at a café after school so we could figure out a study plan for the upcoming midterms.
Naturally, despite it technically being a meeting to organize our study sessions, I couldn't help feeling a little excited. The idea of grabbing a drink with a pretty girl like Gwen sounded suspiciously close to a date.
'So why the hell are these fuckers here?'
Much to my disappointment, it wasn't just going to be the two of us.
Instead, what I could only describe as 'The Gang' had gathered around one of the café's larger tables. Located only a short walk from the school, the place was a popular after-school hangout where students came to unwind, study, or simply waste time before heading home.
Our little group consisted of Peter, Ned, Mary Jane, Gwen... and me.
As it turned out, Peter and MJ were a lot closer than I'd initially thought. Gwen was friends with MJ as well, making this the first time the three of us had actually sat down together outside of school.
Sensing my confusion, Gwen explained everything.
"There was no way I could tutor you by myself," she admitted with a small smile. "So I asked them to help out. They're all really good academically, and since you already know Peter and Ned, I figured it'd be easier for everyone."
The idea wasn't just to help me catch up. Instead, we'd be holding regular study sessions where everyone could pitch in, teaching the subjects they were strongest at while helping each other improve in the areas where we struggled.
"I see," I replied with a nod having been offered an explanation about the extras.
"Then why don't you tell us what else you're good at besides AP Chemistry?" Gwen asked, leaning forward with genuine curiosity. "Knowing your strengths and weaknesses will make it a lot easier for us to figure out how to help you."
As I ransacked my brain for an answer, unsure how to respond without sounding suspicious, a shower of golden sparks suddenly spiraled into existence beside our table.
The air crackled.
Everyone gasped as the sparks rapidly multiplied, tracing a glowing circle in midair before slicing reality itself open. The space within the ring twisted and folded back, revealing a swirling rift that seemed to lead somewhere else entirely.
Under normal circumstances, I'd have been just as alarmed as everyone else.
Instead, I found myself feeling something completely different.
Relief.
A much welcomed relief.
'Talk about perfect timing,' I thought. 'How the hell was I supposed to tell them I needed help with... well... basically every subject?'
As I watched the space continue to shimmer, a familiar memory surfaced.
'If I remember correctly, the last time I saw something like this... the Wizard was behind it.' Good thing we took a spot that isn't easily noticeable, barely a handful of people were likely to take note.
The thought had barely finished crossing my mind when a cloaked figure stepped into view on the other side of the rift. A flowing cape rested over his shoulders as he stood calmly within the glowing portal, as though opening holes in reality was just another ordinary day for him.
"Hey, kid."
His eyes settled directly on me.
"Don't mean to crash the party ," he said, completely ignoring the stunned looks from the others and possibly those surrounding us, "but I'd like you to come with me."
Around our table, Peter, Gwen, Ned, and MJ could only stare in speechless amazement, their attention locked onto the mysterious stranger who had quite literally appeared out of thin air.
'What could the Wizard possibly want with me this time?'