you don't need to run
"Okay, Peter. You can do this." Peter watches the teenager that was walking towards him. This was the thirteenth person he had tried to stop today, but the citizens of New York didn't have time for a homeless kid.
The man walks closer, and Peter takes a couple steps, then fumbles right in front of the guy, stopping him in his tracks.
"Hey kiddo, you okay?" The guy bends down next to Peter. Up close, Peter could see his hair was a medium blond color, and his eyes were blue.
He seemed nicer than anyone else Peter had stopped.
Peter looks up at the man, his brown doe eyes working their magic, "My family kicked me out."
Of course, Peter hadn't been kicked out by his foster family, but they sure didn't care about him enough to report him missing, so Peter thought his version of the story was close enough to the original.
The blue-eyed man frowned, then held out a hand for Peter to take, "You want to grab a bite? There's a McDonald's close by."
Peter accepts his hand and smiles, "Yes please!"
"Lets go kiddo." He leads Peter down the road, the smell of burgers and fries growing stronger. "The name's Clint by the way. Clint Barton."
Peter is taking twice as many steps to keep up with Clint, "I'm Peter."