Pickpocket (Avengers x Child!Reader)
Description: You have been living on the streets for years, and over these years, you have become incredibly good at pickpocketing. Unfortunately for you, though, you picked the wrong target one too many times.
Part 2 if you guys want it, just let me know!
Chin up, shoulders back, even steps. My heart is calm, my breaths slow and measured, and every muscle in my body is relaxed. In other words, every last inch of me screams that I am a confident, kind young lady without a care in the world.
No matter what anybody says, looks really are everything. Every time you meet someone new or even just pass by them on the street, your mind makes a snap judgement about them. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that everyone you meet is prejudiced or anything of the sort. Those snap judgements can easily be changed with an open-minded person, sometimes without even needing a whole conversation. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that when you see a well-groomed person in a suit, your mind automatically thinks they are successful, and when you see someone coming at you with a hoodie covering their face and their hands in their pockets, you automatically tense up. None of that is your fault, and actually it’s probably a good thing that you would be wary of people who are acting rather suspicious. Really, the only issue with these immediate ideas of every person you see is the fact that it makes people like me -- people who understand how these momentary impressions work -- able to take advantage of them.
It didn’t take long to realize I had a talent for it. I already looked the part, -- a helpless, adorable little girl -- I had a surprising knack for staying calm under pressure, and as much as I hated the old bitch, my caretaker had given me all the tools I needed. She was a stickler for proper manners, so I learned how to speak, sit, and walk like a “proper young lady.” Plus, her insane rules about tiny meal portions and too-early curfews taught me to be light on my feet as I often sneaked downstairs to grab a roll of bread at night. Yes, I had everything I needed. The only real hurdle was actually deciding to do it. I never really wanted to be a bad person. But the world is a heartless place, the city even more so, and by the end of my first week, I knew what I had to do if I was ever going to survive.
So, I started working -- oh, and by the way, no matter what you think, it is still a job. I put my time and effort into a certain task, and I obtain money because of it. I don’t know about you, but that certainly sounds like a job to me. And it was easier than I thought it would be. Within about a day, I realized that people saw me as sweet, innocent, and harmless -- no, more than that, they wanted to see me as harmless. Because if I wasn’t harmless, then that meant their world was even more screwed up than they thought. I learned quick, and by the end of the year, I had perfected my technique. It was simple: avoid all conversation if possible, and if absolutely necessary, smile and point out the farthest adult man within reason as my dad before weaving through the small gaps in the crowd, preferably around taller people, so they couldn’t see or follow me. I only got caught once or twice, but I’m grateful that I did. It forced me to learn perspective, that I needed to know more than just how to talk well. So, I learned how to run through a city. And now, I’m practically unstoppable.
As I take my even, not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow stroll down the sidewalk, a small, ambiguous smile decorating my lips, I can see it in each person’s eyes as they walk past that I have completely embodied my character. My arms swung with a practiced nonchalance as my eyes flickered from one person to the next, each time going through a mental list as I weighed the chances I had of succeeding on them versus how likely they were to catch on and calculated the amount of time that both of these events would likely take to happen. Finally, after a few minutes of this practice, one of them caught my eye.
He was larger, more muscular. Guys like him were a gamble. Often, a man of his appearance simply cared a bit too much about his appearance. Still, every now and then, they look like that because they been trained, and while past training usually meant they had no practice running in a city, it also meant that he would be much more jumpy and alert to his surroundings. However, his deep, loose pockets with the corner of his wallet just barely sticking out and the thoughtful gaze as he surveyed the buildings tipped the scales further and further in my favor. The wonder in his eyes just screamed tourist.
I gazed forward with an absentminded look in my eye that I’d spent months perfecting in the mirror while keeping him clearly in my periphery before bumping into him. As I hit him, two of my fingers simultaneously dipped into his pocket, where my knee bumped against his leg to jolt his wallet up and out. The moment the warm leather was in my grasp, I forced myself to fall backwards. Before I could hit the ground, though, I felt one of those strong, muscular arms had wrapped itself around my waist and was helping me back up.
My jaw clenched for half a second. This wasn’t good. His reflexes were too quick to have just worked out at some random gym, which meant my hunch was right: he had been trained. And that meant that I needed to get out of there fast. I wouldn’t be able to slip the wallet back in his pocket without bumping into him again, and that would only make me look even more suspicious, so I quickly emptied it of all of the cash behind his back and slipped the bills into my sleeve before tossing the piece of leather on the ground a few feet away.
“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes, and immediately I decided on my personality for the day -- bright and bubbly but proper. Gently, he released his arm from its position on my waist once he knew I had regained my footing.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologized, my left hand shooting up to cover my mouth in fake shock while my right hand carefully dropped the money in one of my own pockets, all the while watching every last one of his movements for any sign of suspicion. “It was all my fault. I wasn’t paying attention where I was going.”
“It’s ok, really.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I wasn’t really looking where I was going either, so it was partially my fault, too.”
“Well, thank you for catching me, sir, but I really have to go,” I smiled at him apologetically. “I’m supposed to meet back up with my dad in about five minutes.”
“Oh, no worries,” he responded kindly before sneaking a glance at my old, slightly ripped clothes, the concern still dancing in his eyes. “You’re sure you’re alright, though?”
“Absolutely!” I dismissed. “Thank you again!”
“Um, yeah, no problem.” We both started to walk away.
I waited patiently as I listened to his retreating steps. 1... 2... 3... 4... and then-- “Hey, mister!” I called, bending down and grabbing the piece of leather from where I had tossed it earlier. “I think you might’ve dropped your wallet!”
The man turned back, shocked, before jogging back towards me. “I didn’t even notice,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey, thanks, kid.”
“My pleasure!” I chirped. “Now, sorry, but I really have to get going. See you around, sir!” I quickly jogged off, allowing myself to get lost in the crowd before he could even have a minute to fully understand what happened.
“I told you guys the world wasn’t such a bad place!” Steve called as he entered the living room of Stark Tower. The rest of the Avengers looked up in surprise. They had been having this argument for the past three days, with Steve insisting that there were still people who put others first living in New York while the entire rest of the team tried to convince him otherwise.
“Alright, show your work,” Tony leaned back against the wall, watching the captain with curiosity.
“I met a kid today who couldn’t have been older than 16. I was trying to remember what the city looked like before I went in the ice, and I accidentally bumped into her. She then spent the next few minutes constantly apologizing and saying it was all her fault. And the best part is, after we’d already walked away, she found and returned my wallet. I hadn’t even realized I had dropped it!” The 96-year-old man finished with a triumphant grin, leaving the rest of the team silent for a moment. That is, until Tony busted out laughing. Steve frowned. “...What?”
“Steve, honey, check inside of your wallet,” Natasha sighed as she turned back to the tv to watch whatever was on.
Steve frowned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet. “I don’t understand; why do you want me to....” He trailed off as he stared at the now empty pocket that only just earlier that day held around 65 dollars in cash. “She... but how did she...”
Tony slapped a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye. “She scammed you, bro. And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” he grinned before walking back to his room, still chuckling softly to himself at his friend’s misfortune.
------- Time Skip -------
About two weeks had passed since that godsend of a man and I crossed paths. I can’t remember the last time I had managed to lift 65 dollars off anyone. That kind of cash can last someone like me a really long time. But sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after buying myself the first decent meal I’d had in weeks plus a ton of canned foods and non-perishables that I dropped off at the nearest homeless shelter, that good thing ended ended all too quickly. Which meant it was time I went back to work.
I stepped into the public library, that same ambiguous smile painted ever so gently across my face. There weren’t a whole lot of people here and there were almost never any big scores, but working here was a lot less guess-work, and more often than not, the target was too engrossed in their book to even notice what I was doing, so there was also much less risk of being caught.
After a quick scan of the quiet room, my eyes landed on the man sitting at one of the long tables, his bag haphazardly laying next to him on the table. It should be easy enough to grab something from in there, and he seemed invested enough to have his guard down. He should make for a good target.
I walked into the science section and grabbed a few scientific papers, most of which were generally about to nuclear physics, before walking back to his table and sitting down right across from him. Scientific papers are the best way to make sure no one has the confidence to talk to you. I opened the paper that I had read a hundred times and started pretending to read it once more, my left hand resting on my cheek as my right hand slowly made its way towards the bag.
“Excuse me.” I glanced up, pausing my movement towards his back but still being careful not to react too quickly and retract my hand. I didn’t want to draw his attention to what I was doing, and if at all possible, I would still like to come out of this with something to show for it. As I met the glasses-clad, clearly intelligent eyes of the man in front of me, it was easy to figure out what my personality should be -- shy, smart, and above all else, kind. “Is that Schippers’s work?”
I blinked in surprise and allowed a soft smile to spread across my lips. “You know Stefan Schippers?”
“Yeah, his work in antimatter is amazing,” he grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and making him almost look like a completely different person. “Particularly regarding his research in collisions.”
I grinned back, taking note of how his eyes were now trained on mine, instead of glancing around like before. Maybe I should’ve started a conversation before -- clearly it was a good distraction for him. Well, either way, it’s going to be easier to lift something off of him now, so I guess I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. “I completely agree. His work is amazing,” I giggled softly, glancing down at the table before looking back up at him, a slight red hue now painting the apples of my cheeks as my hand slipped inside of his bag.
“I was honestly surprised to see you reading that paper, actually,” he chuckled nervously. “I’ve read it at least 20 times, but I figured I was the only one.” I laughed lightly, slipping what felt like a wallet out of the bag and tucking it under my arm.
“Trust me, I’ve read this so many times, I’m afraid the library is going to have to replace it because I’ve worn it out so much. You know, if you’re interested in Schippers, you should read some of Dr. Banner’s papers,” I laid my left hand on his arm gently while my right arm swung back over to me, pushing the wallet into my lap. “As much as I love Schippers, Dr. Banner’s work is unparalleled.”
The man chuckled nervously again, ducking his head a bit. “You really think so, huh? How old are you anyways? I don’t see a whole lot of kids brushing up on nuclear physics.”
“I’m older than I look,” I casually brushed off the question. I was not about to give up any personal information, fellow science geek or not. “Oh, by the way, do you have the time?”
The man glanced at his watch. “About 6:00.”
My eyes widened in shock. “You’re kidding, it got that late?! My dad’s gonna kill me!” I gasped and quickly stood up, catching the wallet in my left hand and slipping it into my pocket. “It was really nice meeting you, sir, but I have to go home. I really liked talking to you, though! I hope we can meet again!” I hurriedly gathered the papers and rushed off, waving with a broad smile.
“Oh, uh nice meeting you... too...” he tried to respond, but she was already well out of sight.
“What the hell?” Bruce mumbled, digging through his bag. The pizza had just arrived, and he needed to pay his share.
“What’s wrong?” Natasha glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.
“I could’ve sworn I put my wallet in here, but now I can’t find it,” he frowned, continuing to search every last nook and cranny of the old bag.
“Don’t worry about it, buddy, I can cover you if you’re short,” Tony shrugged.
“That’s not the issue,” Bruce frowned, finally giving up and tossing his bag to the side in frustration. “That had my credit card, my driver’s license, and my ID for Stark Tower. If it’s lost somewhere, it could be a real problem.”
“When was the last time you remember having it?” Clint mumbled through a full mouth of the piece of pizza that he’d already shoved in his face. Natasha rolled her eyes and wiped off the bit of spit he’d gotten on her in disgust.
“I was at the library. I used my library card to check out some books,” he responded confidently.
“Again?” Clint asked, once again through a mouthful of cheese and marinara sauce. “What, do you live there or something?”
“Ok, now walk us through exactly what happened after you checked out those books,” Natasha suggested, doing her best to ignore her best friend.
Bruce sighed and nodded, sitting down. “I checked out my books, then walked over to one of the tables to start reading. Then I talked to that teenager for a little while about some of Schippers’s theories before she ran off--”
“You talked to a teenager about Schippers? And she actually understood?” Tony asked, lifting a brow in surprise.
“Yeah, she even recommended I read Dr. Banner’s work in the same field,” Bruce chuckled. “I thought it better not to tell her who I was, but according to her, Banner’s work is ‘unparalleled’.”
“Damn, the kid knows her stuff,” Tony nodded, impressed. “Did she say anything about--”
“Boys,” Natasha cut in. “The wallet.”
“Ah, right,” Bruce mumbled apologetically. “Anyways, after she ran off, I kept reading for a few minutes before leaving, too. Then I came back to the tower and got up here just in time to decide on ordering pizza with you guys.”
“Did you use the subway?” Natasha asked.
Bruce shook his head. “No. I figured since it was such a nice day out, I would just walk home.”
“How did you enter the building?”
“I ran into Steve downstairs, and we came in together.”
Steve, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up. “This teenager... Was she about 16? With (H/C) hair?”
“What, you think it’s the same girl who totally scammed you the other--” Tony started, getting ready to take part in his favorite pastime of making fun of Steve.
“Actually, yeah, she was,” Bruce answered, his eyes wide in realization.
Before anyone could say anything, Tony’s incredibly loud laughter filled the room. “Holy shit, you guys both got scammed by the same teenager! How does that even happen?!” He wheezed, laughing so hard he could hardly breath.
“Hey she seemed like a nice girl!” Bruce defended. “How was I supposed to know she was robbing me?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” Tony asked, tears streaming down his face now. Bruce opened his mouth, trying to come up with something but came up blank. A heavy hand landing on his shoulder knocked him out of his stupor.
“Just let it happen,” Steve sighed, his eyes cast down as he shook his head in sympathy.
------- Time Skip -------
It had been a week since I had spoken to that science nerd in the library, and I was still pissed. Seriously, what kind of grown man only carries around 4 dollars and 36 cents? Well, apparently, that weirdo did. I had thrown out all the cards and IDs to at least sell the what looked to be leather wallet to a pawn shop, but apparently the thing wasn’t even leather! All of that time, wasted for a measly 12 bucks. I’ll say it again: I was pissed.
So, now I was back out working again, because the money I’d made was barely enough to buy a few snacks that I had to portion out over the course of the past week.
As I walked down the sidewalk, still grumbling softly to myself about what had happened, I saw him.
I grinned. Maybe my luck was getting better after all. I mean, a billionaire who’s famous for having, shall we say, questionable morals? After all, it’s not exactly nice to sleep with as many women as humanly possible before tossing them away like they’re nothing. I mean, sure there’s the whole iron man thing, but he’s still kind of a dick, let’s be honest. And while I usually tried to refrain from taking anything major in case my target doesn’t have a whole lot of money or the object is sentimental, billionaire jerks are fair game. And the best part was, I didn’t even have to read him to know the part I was going to play. Tony Stark would only ever fall for one personality: sarcastic, quick-witted, and strong.
His head was down, buried in his phone, so I casually walked towards him, picking up an old cup of coffee from one of a nearby cafe’s outdoor tables, before smacking into him head-first, spilling the coffee everywhere.
“Oh my god!” We both yelled at the same time.
“Oh c’mon, kid, this is silk!” Tony continued to shout, staring down at the coffee covering his chest.
“Hey, I’m not the one with my head buried in my phone while walking through one of the busiest cities in the world,” I snapped back. “And you’re not the only one whose clothes got ruined. This is cashmere!” I lied through my teeth. It was a ratty old sweater that I’d bought for about 3 dollars at a thrift store.
Stark scoffed. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Yeah, you’re Tony Stark. That doesn’t change the fact that my parents are gonna be pissed about me ruining a hundred dollar sweater,” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms defiantly.
That was when he finally glanced at me and my coffee-stained outfit. Stark sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I’m sorry.” Wait, what? Since when does the great Tony Stark ever apologize for anything? “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning, ok? Just give me your parents’ numbers.”
Shit, that’s not how this is supposed to go. Ok, new strategy. A sassy front but a kind interior.
I sighed and shook my head. “No, it’s not entirely your fault. I guess I could’ve tried to avoid you better. Anyways, you got a pen and paper?”
Stark nodded slightly and reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a tiny pad and a fancy looking pen. I quickly jotted down the phone number and handed it back to him. Shoot, he looked like he was about to walk away. I had to act quick or lose my chance. Time to add one more very important characteristic to my identity: pitiable. “Hey, I really am sorry. I kind of overreacted. It wasn’t cool. I guess I just got a little nervous. My dad likes things to be clean, and he can get pretty mad when I don’t follow that rule...” I trailed off a bit, glancing down at my feet. I shook my head quickly and met the billionaire’s gaze, now filled with concern, again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump that on you. I just wanted to say thanks.” I held out my right hand, praying that I’d guessed which hand to use correctly. As Stark grabbed my hand, I had to hold back a sigh of relief when I saw the watch casually placed on his wrist.
“It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I smiled a bit, with my left hand closing over his wrist while three of my fingers on my right hand undid the clasp on his watch. Then I pressed down one the buttons on either side of the clasp with my middle finger on my right hand and my thumb on my left hand, making sure to hold the watch in place. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to buy you a coffee to make up for it. There’s a really nice café right over there.” I squeezed the watch tightly with my left hand and jerked my chin towards the store just behind him. He turned his head and looked, pulling his hand back slightly as he did so, which allowed me to slip the watch off his wrist. Immediately, I dropped it in my pocket before he had a chance to turn back around.
“Thanks, kid, but I’m good. I’ll give your parents a call when I get home, ok?” He said before awkwardly giving me a pat on the shoulder. “Now go run off and play with some dolls or whatever.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, but my collection can’t be nearly as big as yours,” I bit back with a slight, good-natured smirk. “Anyways, I gotta go home and get yelled at by my parents. Nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I called, waving to him as I was already leaving.
Stark shook his head with a small smile. “Yeah, you too, kid.”
“What, no watch today?” Tony furrowed his brows at Bruce’s question.
“Of course I have a watch today. I have a watch for every day of the week,” he scoffed, lifting his wrist to show off the rather expensive Rolex.
“Umm dude...?” Clint started.
“Yeah, I know it’s awesome, and no, you cannot try it on,” Tony smirked. “I have a very strict look don’t touch policy. These bad boys cost quite the pretty penny, and I wouldn’t want any of you trying to take it from me.” Clint just shrugged in defeat and unpaused his video game -- it wasn’t his fault his friend interrupted him trying to help.
“Tony, look at your wrist,” Steve rolled his eyes at the pompous man’s antics.
“What, just so I can admire it--” he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the bare skin of his wrist. “...Where the hell is my watch?”
“Maybe you forgot to put one on today?” Bruce shrugged, going back to his computer as he continued to work.
“No, I didn’t forget; I never forget,” Tony snapped. “It was there this morning, and now it’s gone.” He yanked up his sleeve to search in vain for the incredibly expensive missing item.
“Hey, maybe Tony was pick-pocketed, too,” Clint joked absentmindedly before cursing at some ‘dumbass little camping noob’ who kept killing him.
Tony’s eyes widened in realization. “Holy shit, it was the kid.”
“The kid! The kid who spilled coffee on me today!” He shouted. “I had my watch, then she shook my hand, and now the watch is gone. She totally took it!”
Clint paused the game again. “Wait, so basically some kid took your custom watch, which is worth thousands of dollars, right off your wrist, and you didn’t even notice?” Tony bobbed his head up and down frantically. “Hold on... You don’t think...” Clint glanced between the three other men in the room.
“(H/C) hair?” Steve asked.
“(E/C) eyes?” Bruce called, suddenly no longer able to focus on his work.
Tony nodded slowly with wide eyes. Reality crashed down on all three of them.
A wide smile slowly took over Clint’s face. “So you mean to tell me that three of the Avengers, the Earth’s greatest defenders, got scammed by the same teenage girl in less than a month?” The three men were silent, each of them staring at the ground as they started to question how smart they actually were.
About 30 seconds later, the silence was broken. “Nat, you’ll never believe what just happened. I can’t believe you weren’t home for this,” Clint talked excitedly into the phone while his teammates all slowly left the room to sulk alone.
------- Time Skip -------
It had been a whole month since I had gotten the watch off Tony Stark. I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the amount of zeros on the offer the pawn shop had given me. It was probably one of the best days of my life. Immediately, I had gone out and bought myself a meal at an actual restaurant, and let me tell you, they weren’t kidding when they said restaurant food is delicious. Every protein bar and bag of chips in the world couldn’t live up to the food I ate that day. And with that kind of money, I could be eating like that for maybe even a year! Still, I knew what I had to do.
It was almost Christmas. With the money I’d just gotten, I could afford to buy each and every kid at the orphanage actual brand new presents that year, instead of the crummy second-hand stuff that had to be shared between three or four kids that I usually brought. So, I went out and blew a good three quarters of my new budget on toys, and not the kind from thrift shops or even the ones from the big department stores. I could finally get them toys from one of the fancy stores that had display windows. And it was worth it, too, seeing the pure amazement that lit up those kids’ eyes when they saw there was enough for all of them. I then spent another quarter of the money on nonperishable foods that I donated to the homeless shelter plus one massive turkey for their Christmas feast.
After all of that, I was left with around 20 dollars for myself. Usually I can make money like that last with just a few extra marks, but as the month dragged on and less and less people were out on the streets at night, my budget ran thin. Eventually, I reached my breaking point. I’d gone I think four days now without any food. My stomach growled loudly, begging me to give it something, anything. I just sighed and receded further into the fabric of my thin, worn down coat that I’d found a few days back by a dumpster -- the coat I used to wear long traded in for a couple spare dollars. Sure, the wind cut through it like a knife, but hell, it was better than nothing.
I glanced up as I heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow, my heard immediately leaping into my throat at the prospect of there being people out. I frowned when I saw who they were. A couple walking together, chatting away about something or another. Normally, I would never choose a couple to target -- it was too easy for one of them to spot what I was doing to the other -- but I had gotten desperate. I was freezing cold, and I needed food now.
So, I walked directly towards them and crashed my shoulder into the guy’s, my hand slipping into his pocket. I thanked whatever higher power was watching over me when my hand came into contact with a money clip.
“Sorry,” I mumbled and slipped my hand back out before continuing to walk at a casual pace away from the two, tucking the clip into my pocket.
“Well that was rude,” Clint huffed, dusting himself off.
Natasha stared at the back of the young girl who continued to walk away like nothing had happened. “Hey, Clint,” she muttered.
“I put it back in my... pocket....” Clint froze when he realized he couldn’t feel the familiar clip in his jacket pocket. He whirled around to look at the girl, who was already a ways away. “Hey! Get back here!” He screamed, breaking into a run, Natasha quickly following suit.
“Hey! Get back here!” I glanced back with wide eyes, my heart leaping into my throat before immediately sprinting.
I ran through the snow, turning right and left through back alleys and narrow shortcuts, thanking my past self for never eating well, as my skinny form was able to stay on top of the snow for the most part. Still, somehow I hadn’t lost the two adults chasing me yet. They had barely fallen a foot or two behind over the last eight blocks. My stamina was quickly running out, the malnourishment over the past week finally catching up to me. I felt dizzy, and my chest burned as I focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other. I turned down an alleyway with a brick wall at the end.
“Ha! We’ve finally caught you!” The man behind me panted. I completely ignored him, not pausing a single step as I sprinted towards the wall.
“Uhh, hey, kid? Rock beats teenager...” He called warily. I continued to ignore him. I was only five feet away. “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” he shouted just before I jumped, pressing my feet into the bricks to launch my further and further up. I reached as high as I could and just barely caught the edge of the wall with my fingertips. I swung my other arm up and forced my arms to pull myself to the top.
I panted as I gazed down from the top of the wall, the couple staring back up at me. “Holy shit,” the man muttered, to which the woman immediately smacked him in the arm.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was hungry.” I wasn’t really sure why I was apologizing. Granted, I knew what I was doing wasn’t very nice, but I don’t recall ever apologizing before. Maybe it’s because they reminded me of my parents -- or, at least, what I imagined my parents to be like. Maybe it’s because I was so dizzy that I couldn’t really think straight. I nodded slightly to the two before turning around, preparing myself to jump down the other side.
Suddenly, a massive wave of dizziness and nausea smacked me in the face. I groaned slightly and put my hand to my forehead, trying to get a hold of myself. Evidently, that didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, I was falling.
Time seemed to slow as I fell through the air. I probably shouldn’t pass out right now, the surprisingly calm thought entered my mind. If I do, I’ll most likely just freeze to death. Then again, passing out would save me a lot of pain from falling. Alright, I guess that’s it then. I’ll pass out now and hope I wake up in time to not die. My eyes fluttered closed just before I hit the ground, the fog in my brain thickening as I finally allowed myself to just give in to it.
Clint grunted as he caught the girl. He was expecting to fall to the ground with her, only really serving to break her fall, but was surprised to find that she wasn’t even heavy enough to knock him down. Natasha made her way over to his side, looking down at the little thief in her friend’s arms.
“She’s light as a feather,” Clint murmured with a frown on his face, “and freezing to the touch.”
“She said she was hungry,” Natasha muttered thoughtfully.
Clint grit his teeth and nodded, determined. “Alright, that settles it. We’re taking her back to the tower.”
Natasha glanced at him warily. “You sure? The others might not be so accepting.”
“They’re gonna have to be,” he stated, already walking back, holding the girl as close as he could in an attempt to warm her up.