Age: 13 Warnings: mention of blood, fighting, swearing Word count: 1325
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Y/n's POV: One of my classmates, Gunther, was stuck in a wheelchair after a car accident. He's always been a little bit of a nerd, always being picked on. But now that he was crippled, it became way worse.
I never liked him, I don't like anyone. I'm more of a loner, it's just how I get through my day. I just stay out of everyone else's business.
But as I walked through the halls of my high school, I saw Gunther wheeling his way through the halls in front of me.
Some senior, Mark, suddenly grabbed onto the wheelchair handles and yanked Gunther back, before pushing him out of the chair.
My blood was boiling.
"Hey!" I yelled, marching over to the scene. Mark only laughed, his friends running up to his side and high-fiving him. Gunther was still on the ground, trying to hold back tears.
"What's wrong little freshman?" He mocked, slightly pushing me back.
"Leave him alone." I said bitterly, practically spitting in Mark's face. He only laughed more, his friends giggling along beside him.
"What?" He turned to Gunther. "You got your girlfriend protecting you now?"
Without a single thought, I immediately jumped into action. Pining Mark into the set of lockers behind him, I began punching him.
"He's not my boyfriend!" I spat at him.
Blood began pouring out of his nose as I heard it crack under my fist.
"Fuck you!" He screamed in pain, pushing me onto the ground. Everyone circled around us, chanting 'fight' over and over again.
I was pined on the ground, but my legs were free. With one strong kick, I was able to escape his grasp.
"Miss Romanoff!" A teacher yelled my name, pulling me back as I continued to punch Mark, his face now unrecognizable with blood.
I flailed in the arms of the teacher who pulled me away, trying to hit Mark just one more time. He deserved it, but the teachers grip was just too strong as he pulled me to the principal's office.
Nat's POV: During a mission. She decided to get her ass in trouble while I was on a mission. I am beyond pissed at my daughter. Recently she has done nothing but get herself in trouble and I have just about had it with her.
Unfortunately, I couldn't call anyone else to go talk with the principal and pick her up because they're all here, on a mission.
After a half hour ride on the quinjet, and a ten minute drive yo the school, I finally bathed through the front doors.
Students stared at me, eyeing me up and down as I power walked toward the principal's office with my brows furrowed.
