Twenty-Six

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        After helping Loki learn how to use a computer, you go back to the kitchen through the common room. You see Thor, Clint, and Natasha.

        "We're out of pop-tarts!" Thor exclaims in distress.

        You walk up to him and peek into the pop-tart box.

        You look back up at Thor, "No, we aren't. It's almost an entire box full."

        "Well, it's not enough for my breakfast."

        You nod with a bit of a smile at Thor's pop-tart enthusiasm. You begin searching the cabinets for more pop-tarts with no luck.

        You walk over to Natasha and Clint, "Okay. Natasha, do you want to go to the store with me to get Thor a supply of pop-tarts?"

        "Can't. S.H.I.E.L.D. is short of instructors for training, so Clint and I are going to help Fury out." Natasha explains.

        You nod your head in understanding and turn back to Thor.

        "I'll go get some more. Do you want to go with me?"

        "I'm sorry, Lady Y/N, but I want to visit Asgard as soon as possible."

        You smile, "Okay. Have fun!"

        You get ready before grabbing Tony's credit card. He wouldn't mind... right?

        You finish getting ready, then leave the tower. Walking down the streets, admiring displays in store windows, and enjoying the city now that you aren't living on the streets of it.

        Finally reaching your destination, you go inside the grocery store and grab as many pop-tart boxes as you can.

        Finally reaching your destination, you go inside the grocery store and grab as many pop-tart boxes as you can

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        As you walk out of the store after paying, you notice five large men crowded around something... or someone. Deciding to go closer, you see the five large men begin kicking the thing they're crowded around.

        "Hey!" You shout.

        They turn to look at you moving just enough to see a petite teenager. His medium brown hair with a slight curl is hanging in front of his face. From slight gaps between his hair, you can see scared big brown eyes.

        "Pick on someone your own size."

        Who you assume is the leader smirks, "I don't think we will, baby."

        You cringe before setting your bags down.

        "Look, leave him alone, or I'll have to kick your ass." You state.

        "I don't think so."

        You sigh, "You asked for it."

        Your magic begins to surround your hand, but then the leader throws something at you, and your magic stops.

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