A 'science stuff' gone wrong, seven small children, two SHIELD agents, and a pinch of AIM sticking their noses where they don't belong. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, right? Have you ever wondered what would happen if Maria Hill had to look after a group of de-aged Avengers? You have? Well then, this is the story for you! Enjoy! DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, not even the idea, which I may or may not have 'borrowed' from about 15 different people on fanfiction.net

A rampid serial killer is on the lose: Where do you go? What weapon do you bring? Who do you trust? The choice is yours...

"What the hell?" Oliver says reaching towards his throbbing head. He winces as soon as he touches the open hash in his forehead that's laces with dry blood. He looks around trying to gather his bearings. He's in a cell. It's locked. Upon investigating more, he sees many torture devices. Each one his eyes land on seems to be more terrifying and cruel than the last. Suddenly a door starts to open followed by screaming. A man, perhaps the one who put Oliver in here, is dragging a screaming woman by her hair. That hair, it reminds Oliver of someone. It isn't until her face is tilted up that he can place the owner of the bright, blonde hair.