Second Chances

Chapter 1: Breaking In

JJ's PoV: I sprinted around a corner and pushed off the opposite wall for a boost as I continued to sprint down the hallway. When I reached the metal railing, I gathered my speed and vaulted over with one hand on the top rail. I swung around underneath and landed on the ledge below, a foot away from Director Fury. Evan and Talia sprinted from either side of the overlook by way of the staircases, panting heavily. "I win!" I crowed. Talia punched me in the arm, the arm that'd been stabbed during the battle against the Shadow King two months ago. It still throbbed when I tried to over work it but right now, chest heaving, heart pumping, blood rushing, I felt great.

"Mission. Read the file, follow instructions. You know the drill," Fury told us, handing Talia a tablet. After he dismissed us, we trooped down the stairs to the wishbone docking bay.

Evan Carter, Natalia Vanek, and I were the only three members of the young Avengers team left on the Helicarrier at the moment. August Fury had been sent on a solo mission to Finland to retrieve something for her Uncle Nick, and Sean Stark had gone home to visit his parents as promised. Erik Rhodes was on vacation with his uncle in Maine; of course, vacation for two of the world's most brilliant men was a science convention with a bunch of geeks in taped glasses and lab coats. Oberon hadn't been seen for a month, but word around the ship rumored he was coming back soon. For now, we were enjoying each others company and Evan had actually opened up. When he wasn't being morose and gloomy, he was actually fun.

Snick click. Talia buckled into the pilot's seat of a new Quinjet Stark Industries had recently produced. The file promised a short flight to Michigan, so I sat in back with Evan. He knocked back two Dramamine with a swig of Mountain Dew, then plugged into his music. Classic Evan. It wasn't often that he chose to socialize, but he was warming up to the idea of the team and having friends that weren't his grandmother's age. After the initial lurch of takeoff, I pulled out my arrows and began tweaking the heads rigged with explosives and poison. Just as Evan began snoring quietly, Talia announced fifteen minutes until landing. When the jet slowed to a hover, descended, and finally came to rest on the thin grass, I reached over and woke him. Rubbing his face, Evan and I headed toward the destination. "I'll stay here in case we need to get out fast," Talia told us as we lowered the ramp.

"Aye, aye, cap'n," I joked back. I could just imagine her rolling her eyes.

A pale blue house with grey shutters and trim sat beside one of the vast Great Lakes, surrounded by pine trees that scented the air and made everything have a Christmasy feel- even if it was only early September. We ascended the flagstone path to the front door, and I bent to pick the lock.

Isobel's PoV: My fingers rapidly pecked away at my laptop in front of my window overlooking Lake Huron. Clickclickclickclickclickclick clack. Beside my left elbow sat a mostly full mug of green tea and a half empty jar of Nutella. The spoon hung from my mouth while I typed until I'd finished and was free to hold it again. I began thinking, tapping the spoon against my nose as I did so, each thought coming in the rhythm of the taps. Code, code, code, break? No. Just coding.

When I replaced the spoon into my tea, a crash downstairs rattled the silverware against the mug. Immediately, I froze. Footsteps. The hair on my neck prickled. Someone was downstairs, but it wasn't my parents. The steps were too heavy to be my mom and too careless to be my dad. I listened more intently, getting up, creeping to the door, silent. The two voices audible were teenage males. One spoke with an accent unlike any I had heard. British with a hint of Pacific? The other was familiarly French-Canadian with sharp midwestern consonants.

Slowly, I opened my bedroom door and crept down the stairs in my socks, stepping around the squeaky floor boards to not alert the intruders. I could hear them blubbering about klutziness and... tights? Pressing my ear to the doorframe of the kitchen, I held my breath to listen.