Guest review response from Elaine Weasley:

Midnight: Elaine Weasley here! Thank you for your review! As far as you having read worse, I suppose I'm glad that my writing wasn't the worst you've read;-) Hope you enjoy the chapters to come!

Okay, to those who read the first chapter, you might guess that I'm Crystal di Angelo. Since the last chapter wasn't mine, I will not be responding to the reviews. Elaine Weasley will, however, through private messages. As for guest reviews, they will be posted here.

Second Chance

Chapter Two

"I don't care if this boy/teen/mutant/whatever the heck he is possesses feelings. I want answers, right now! Interrogate him the moment he awakes. Run tests on that bloody stick he was holding. Analyze his clothes. Really, why are those clothes still in fashion anyway?" Director Fury barked orders at his agents. He was seriously stressed out now. How the bloody hell could a guy just appear out of thin air and pop onto Earth again? Oh, hello, say hi! I love wasting S.H.I.E.L.D.'s manpower, so I distract all of you with a bizarre appearance! One magic wielding villain was enough. Nick Fury did not need another one to complicate his day. And there was always the possibility of the boy working together with Loki.

Agent Clinton Barton cautiously slipped the stick out of the boy's death grasp. What could the thin piece of carefully whittled stick mean, to be treasured so by the unknown boy?

He evaluated it with a quick glance before dropping it into a plastic bag. It looked as if it had a pine cone handle, though the wood was smooth and the rings blurred that Clint couldn't specify the type of wood. It was about 14 inches long, just a little shorter than his arrows.

Agent Phil Coulson was busy snapping photos of the boy, keeping them for possible future reference. Agent Maria Hill was reporting to the Council in place of her superior. Clint didn't envy her job, not one bit.

As for Director Nicholas 'Nick' Fury himself…

He was nursing a large migraine. Fury's expression made Clint reconsider his ambition to become the commander.

Agent Natasha Romanova was preparing the shock equipment to wake the prisoner up. She was the best in that field, and Clint be damned if the boy didn't wake up in three minutes after Natasha's treatments.

The rarely seen peaceful night at S.H.I.E.L.D. was gone.

Goodbye, rest. Clint thought mournfully.

Line break

Lots of complaints, shouts, grunts and commands later.

The scanners were up and running, the shock equipment ready to function at the press of a button. The boy was located in the best position possible, secured to his place with all kinds of binders. Even slightly scary portable rope tasers were wrapped around his hands. If he moved one finger out of S.H.I.E.L.D. base, he would immediately be tasered with at least a hundred volts of electricity.

Natasha pressed the button.

Everything else happened in a matter of seconds. The boy shot upright, some kind of energy wave spreading out from him, cutting through the taser ropes and the various chains holding him down. Eyes wild, the boy dove for the door as Clint grabbed his bow and took aim. The boy dashed down the corridor, taking S.H.I.E.L.D. agents by surprise and passing them, until one agent saw him coming from a distance and landed a kick on him, but the boy was panicking, and let loose another similar energy wave. The agent dropped dead instantly.

The boy paused, staring wide-eyed at the dead agent. Clint noted the brief flash of fear in his eyes, then the boy was running again, determined to get out of here.

Clint didn't follow the boy. Instead, he took a shortcut. If the boy managed to get out of the building, judging from the direction he was headed in, there was only one exit for him. And Clint intended to get there before him.

Just as he skidded to a stop in front of the exit, he found Natasha already waiting there. He barely had time to make eye contact with her before he heard Director Fury's furious roar.

"Bad news." Natasha murmured. "I'll check it out. Keep the exit guarded."

She slipped into the shadows lithely, like a cat.

Clint waited. And waited. An agent came by to inform him that he was on night duty for guarding the door, since the red-headed boy hadn't exited the building yet, therefore he must be still within the grounds.

Doctors and scientists hurried by, conversing in hushed whispers about who a certain Doctor Harrison was doomed.

The very next day, a sleep deprived Nick Fury assembled the Avengers. Well, the potential candidates anyway.

Line break

"Hypothetically speaking… People could move from place to place in science fiction right. So this boy," Tony Stark tapped the photo of the freckled, red headed boy. "May be a mutant of some sort that can teleport." This photo was taken by Agent Coulson, and the boy was smiling even when unconscious. But Director Fury definitely wasn't.

"Tell me one more time, Stark, why can't you just design the cuffs out of vibranium or something?" He fumed. "Now that damned threat could be anywhere! In places that S.H.I.E.L.D. has no influence, no satellites to pick up abnormal energy readings. He could be causing a massacre in Africa right now and no one would be able to stop him!"

"Listen, Nicky, magic is a whole new field of science for me." Tony growled, wagging an accusing finger at Fury. "I specialize in mechanics. Genius I may be, thank you very much for the compliment, but we weren't expecting a whole new wave of freaky magic users! Heck, maybe his magic could even cut through vibranium and that would just be a waste of good metal!"

Steve looked troubled and confused as he studied the boy's peaceful face and mischievous smile. "He's just a child. Shouldn't we try to talk to him before starting all the…interrogation tactics?"

"He killed. That alone is enough to give us a legal reason to gun him down." Agent Hill explained.

"Sadly enough, I'll have to side with Capsicle on this one." Tony announced. "Don't look at me like that. Despite popular belief, I do have a heart. I'll give you a talk on the greatness of my heart later, but the point is, if you provoke a neutral party, you'll have a hostile party on your hands in a millisecond."

"He started it by appearing unannounced within three miles of our compound using unidentified transport." Agent Coulson sounded a little childish.

"Unconscious." Tony interjected, frowning. "I think you conveniently left that part out."

"That wasn't in the briefing, Tony." Steve said, slightly admonishing, though his eyes were shooting daggers at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Tony shrugged. "So what? They were withholding important information. It is fully in my rights, as a party of a legal contract, to obtain all information I can about the subject."

Director Fury finally snapped. Exploding, he slammed a fist on the table. "We did NOT survive this long on compassion. We see threats, we act to demolish them. We don't take chances. Compassion isn't going to help you in the long run of protecting Earth. You learn that in this trade. Would you choose to baby a potential criminal or to let someone blow this whole damned place up? Huh? This isn't about morals, it's about survival!"

Steve looked at war with himself. At last, he put his foot down. "Okay, we can deal with this later. What matters now is that we've got to find the boy. Do you have a name for him?"

"No." Agent Romanoff looked extremely displeased with her answer. "Not even a false identity. He was too fast. Use the code name George Doe. John Doe is getting old."

"Besides," Agent Barton added darkly. "That was the name of the agent he'd murdered in cold blood."

There were no further arguments about the innocence of the boy.

Line break

"Where am I?" Fred thought, eyeing the icy landscape around him. The first place he'd had in his mind while apparating was the Burrow, but apparently his home really didn't exist in this world, and therefore winded up somewhere else. At least he didn't splinch, though.

Fred used an improvised version of the Bubble-Headed Charm and the Hot-Air Charm, which he'd renamed Warm-Bubble-Body-Charm-Invented-By-Fred-Weasley-AKA-Coolest-Guy-Ever. It was a little too long, so he shortened it to WBBCIBFWACG. Okay, he had to admit that even just the initials were a little too long, but really, it would be discrediting him by not inserting his name and cool in the spell.

Fred wandered alone in the cold and darkness. He couldn't feel the cold, thanks to the WBBCIBFWACG, but still, all these added to the lonely feeling that had been gnawing at his gut. Something felt missing.

That missing part was George.

For all their life, they had never been apart for more than a day. Even that day seemed like an eternity. He wondered how his twin brother was doing back in the other world. Come to think of it, was he still alive in the other world, or there was just a dead body? His family would be horrified. He hoped that George would be strong enough to cope with it. Or is anyone else dead? He hoped not. Did they win the war?

He dearly hoped that they did.

But at the moment, Fred was more concerned about his survival. Then he can think about his family. And then figure out who exactly it was that he was sent here to help. It must be someone really prominent, given that the…whatever they were…Nines maybe? Had paid special attention to him. He sorted through the information he currently had on this guy.

Info on Mysterious Guy:

I feel like a stalker.

Magic user like me. No wonder whatever organization that was tried to electrocute me. Gah, what happened to good old burning witches and wizards at the stake?

Greatly misunderstood. Oh-kay…

Put through things he shouldn't have to go through. Stuff enough to make a Nine sad. Gee, given that they are women who are probably really touchy feely, seeing how angry that brunette was at me in a second. Maybe he just lost a girlfriend or something.

How the hell am I going to find him?!

Fred sighed. "That narrows it down so much. Thanks, Nines." He loaded his voice with sarcasm. "That only makes like, what, half the population in this reality? Given how little I know about this place, you should just send a local like that scary Pirate Man."

No response.

Well, at least the Nines had the thought to leave the wand in my possession.

Not that he needed a wand to kill.

Fred shivered at the thought. He remembered how the man had fallen at his feet, head sliced off neatly.

That was him. He'd killed.

An innocent man, probably just following orders or trying to protect himself, judging from the terrified look on his face.

And Fred had just killed him.

He might have a wife, maybe even children. They had just lost their pillar of support, their father. An uncle, a husband, a son. Just because Fred didn't understand what was going on and lashed out with accidental magic.

It's not like Fred hasn't seen death before, he'd seen plenty of it during the Battle of Hogwarts, just…not one caused by him.

Oh, heavens, what had he done? He might just as well go and surrender to whatever organization that was and let them do what they will with him.

Except that Fred didn't think that he, a murderer, would deserve the mercy of death.

Fred screamed into the howling wind, letting all his emotions out. Another wave of power crashed through him, and a snow rabbit dropped dead not more than five meters away.

Fred backed into a corner of his cave, trying his best to control the mysterious power that had grown inside him somehow, sobbing. This wasn't just accidental magic. He'd never heard of young witches or wizards accidentally killing people. Somehow, something else was interfering. Making Fred a monster.

He grabbed his wand with shaking hands, trying to decide whether to snap it. It was the channel for his magic, a part of him for all these years, but without it, trying to use magic without something to direct it properly might just result in more mayhem.

A tear dripped onto the wand and instantly froze there. Fred pocketed the wand again, cursing his weakness. One simple flick of his hand, and his magic would be no more. Just like that. The murderer's weapon would be gone. And yet he had killed without it.

Utterly worn and spent, Fred laughed. He laughed until tears rolled again, remembering exactly how he had ended up in this predicament. Percy had made a joke.

Prefect Percy had just made a joke with him. It had felt so long ago when they were all a complete family again.

"I need to complete this stupid task the Nines gave me." Fred said aloud, trying to sound more confident. "It shouldn't be any biggie, or else they would have sent Harry Potter himself. Then maybe I can go home."

Nothing but the wind answered him. But all of a sudden, he felt relieved again.

True, they might not accept him when they learned that he had blood on his hands. The Nines might not send him home.

But at least now he had a path to walk.