The Life That Pietro Saved

0.5

About three weeks after Peter was adopted, the team had a mission. The first mission since Pietro woke up after Sokovia.

Clint knelt in front of Pietro. "I can stay, if you need me."

Pietro just looked sadly down at his immobile legs, shaking his head. A lump caught in his throat. Clint wiped a tear from his boyfriend's cheek.

"You need to go. The team needs you more than I do." His russian accent was thick with emotion.

"You sure? It's okay if you need me to stay." Clint laid his hands on Pietro's now muscleless legs. He barely sensed the touch.

"You go." His voice cracked. "You go fight, you are Avenger. It is your job."

Tiny Peter ran up beside Pietro.

Pietro wiped his cheeks, breath shuddering. "You come home, though?"

"Of course." His lips pressed on the speedster's forehead. "I promise."

Clint embraced Pietro gently, trying not to hurt him. Pietro wrapped his arms around Clint, his shaky breathing in his love's ear.

"I love you." Pietro's voice shook. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, baby." Clint kissed him softly on the lips before standing up. "Call me if you need anything. Okay, honey?"

Pietro choked back a pained sob, his palm covering his mouth. He nodded shallowly.

Clint walked onto the quinjet before waving at Pietro.

They took off almost soundlessly.

Peter touched his arm. "Why are you sad?"

"I-I f-fine." He choked out, tears streaming down his face. He shook his head.

Peter hugged him with his small four year old arms. He touched the sensitive spot on Pietro's back by accident, causing him to contract in pain with a near silent groan.

"Why are you crying?" Peter asked again. "Did you get hurt?"

"N-nothing. Come, we go inside." He shook, his arms straining slightly as he was still getting used to his new lifestyle.

Peter obediently followed.

"How long'll they be gone?" Peter asked.

"I not know. Until they get back, I watch you. Understand?" He fought to keep composure.

"Yeah." Peter flopped down on the couch.

Pietro caught a glimpse of his reflection on the pane glass window. He looked like shit.

His hair was messy, dark circles around his eyes and chapped lips pressed together. His cheeks were a blotchy red from crying, and tears that still clung to his face. Not to mention the wheelchair beneath him. It made him look fragile. It made him unable to fight. What use was super speed when he couldn't even walk?

He silently sobbed in a room separate from the one Peter was in, doubled over despite the severe pain in his back. He was alone. He could hardly take care of himself, now he was trusted with a small child. What was he going to do?

"Pietro?" He heard his name.

"Coming, kiddo." He wiped his eyes, sniffing.

He pushed the steel rims just as they were teaching him in therapy.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to watch Toy Story with me."

"I have never see it." He nearly cringed at his broken english.

"Really? You've gotta be joking."

"I only been in America for year, Peter. I not familiar with your movies."

"You have to watch this then! It's like the best movie ever!"

"Okay."

Peter patted the seat next to him.

Pietro blushed. "I, ah, no able to do that yet." He shook his head.

"Oh. Sorry."

Peter was almost instantly engrossed in the animation on the television again. Pietro drummed his fingers nervously. His back hurt no more than usual, but he was more aware of the warm pain. His wrists hurt. He was tired. He wanted Clint. Being away from Clint made him anxious. Everything made him anxious. He couldn't shut his eyes without being back in Sokovia.

The movie carried on for another hour.

"I'm hungry."

"What do you want to eat?"

"Popcorn, please."

"Okay."

Pietro dug in the lower cabinet where the snack food was kept. His phone buzzed.

Clint: I love you, babe.

Pietro smiled slightly.

I miss you. He typed, tapping 'send'.

Clint: I know. I'll call you when we land, I promise.

Yes. He wrote. Be safe, okay?

Clint: Yeah, I will. How's Peter?

Good. We are watching American movie called Toy Story.

Clint: Sounds fun. I'll text you later, I've got to go.

I love you.

Clint: I love you too.

Pietro jammed the phone back in his pocket, retrieving the popcorn.

He waited as in popped in the microwave, rubbing his wrists.

The machine made a noise, alerting him that the popcorn was done.

He went in the fridge to get butter, only to find there was none. There was no butter, no milk, no bread, or fruit on the counter.

Shit.

He would have to go shopping tomorrow. He couldn't drive a car. They'd have to trek all the way there and all the way back. Good thing they lived in a city.

He put the popcorn in a small bowl, balancing the plastic dish on his thigh. From what he could tell, it was still pretty hot.

Okay, he thought. You can do this without spilling.

He inched forward, breathing a sigh of relief when the plastic didn't turn over. He kept going until he saw it wobble and fall all over the floor.

"Der'mo." He huffed angrily, but was also relieved that he didn't put all the popcorn in one bowl.

He began to pick it up, looking up to see Peter.

"Do you need help?" He knelt down, picking up the kernels.

"No, kiddo. I got it. Go, watch movie." Pietro leant forward a bit more, on the edge of his seat.

Peter didn't leave. He stayed, picking up the fallen snack with Pietro.