One Change, One Chance

/3/

He calmed down when nothing happened, and had almost forgotten about it, but when he was about a half of the way up, the vent swung open and out jumped...

A man.

But he hadn't picked on that part. He was a little busy with that fact that said man was pinning him to the ground and... was he tickling him?

Yeah, he was. He was sitting on Peter's hips, and trying to tickle Peter's stomach.

But he was not doing too well, because at that moment, Peter was having difficulties breathing, and (rather unfortunately) not because he was laughing too hard (he wasn't ticklish on his stomach, but that doesn't mean he was telling you where he was ticklish!), but because he was startled. and the man on top of him was muscular, so he was rather heavy.

~

Clint Barton was on top of the elevator at the moment.

He had trying to surprise Steve, because it seemed like it was around the time Steve should be getting back from his run. He didn't know that anyone else was going to be in the elevator.

Who else could it be?

Bruce was in the Testing lab, working on science-y stuff.

Tony was having a rough day, so he was in his tinkering lab, getting some alone time.

Thor was in the kitchen, most likely eating some poptarts, or something else sugary and then going to go to his room, but was still in the kitchen as far as Clint knew.

Natasha was on a mission in Texas.

And Sam was doing whatever Sam does when he's up in his room.

So this had to be Steve...

...Probably...

But when he jumped out of the vent on the elevator ceiling, on top of someone, already starting to tickle them, because even if it wasn't Steve, who doesn't need a tickle?

But that's when he realized, no one, not even Bruce or Tony, besides Nat although she still wasn't as bony, had that skinny of hips.

And no one on the team should be breathing this hard, or struggling this hard to get Clint off of them.

Sure Clint had quite the grip, but he could easily be rolled over to underneath the person.

He finally got a look at the person.

"Who the hell are you?"

The person was a small teenager, that couldn't be older than a small fourteen old, with light brown hair that looked very soft (Clint notices these kind of things, duh) and big brown doe eyes. and freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks, making his eyes seem even bigger. But Clint wasn't paying much attention to those eyes that could melt him if they tried. He also noticed that he looked like he had gone through hell and back, with a black eye, scraped nose, split lip, and the way he seemed to be putting more weight in his left leg. He was paying attention to two other things.

He was breathing hard and gasping in obvious pain at the same time.

And the fact that he was struggling to reach into his pocket to grab something.