He Didn't See That Coming.

9.0

Kate was outside with Clint, Pietro sitting in a lawn chair watching them shoot arrows.

Clint corrected Kate's form a bit. "Your dad can't help you with this much, can he?"

"He tries, but..." Kate shook her head. "I think it hurts him. Y'know, on the inside."

"Yeah, he was something, back in the day." Clint fired a projectile, embedding it in the exact center of the target.

He was using Kate's spare bow, a bit too big for her and it was a recurve. She used a compound bow, the easier of the two, but Clint could shoot arrows with virtually anything that had a string. He actually shot one with a violin once on a dare. The violinist was not happy.

Kate released the string, watching the arrow fly.

Clint beaconed Pietro over. "C'mere, I'll teach you."

He gave Clint a curious look. "No, I am okay."

"Come on, babe..." Clint whined.

"Fine."

Pietro trudged toward his boyfriend.

Clint put an arm around him and Pietro put his crutches on the ground gripping the bow the best his hands would allow.

"I can h-hardly stand, Clint. How w-will I shoot bow and arrow?"

Clint placed his hands over Pietro's. "I'll help you, honey."

The younger tried to pull back the string, but he was too weak. Clint pulled it back for him, aiming.

"You ready?" Clint's breath was warm in his ear, their bodies flush together.

Pietro nodded, and Clint released the string. It snapped back into place with a loud thwap. The arrow plunged into the foam.

Clint kissed his cheek, continuing to hold him up.

Kate watched with a level admiration, her uncle took such good care of his boyfriend.

The admiration turned to horror as Pietro convulsed and fell to the ground.

Clint knelt beside him, relatively calm for the situation.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay." He held Pietro on his side, keeping the seizing man's head on his lap.

"S-should I get help?!" Kate panicked.

"No, he's okay. It's just a seizure."

He stopped twitching and lay still for a few minutes before coming to.

"You okay?" Clint helped him sit up.

Pietro hummed affirmatively, grabbing for his crutches and trying to stand.

Clint pulled him up. "I'll be right back, Kate."

"Okay." She watched as Clint walked with Pietro into the house.

Clint laid Pietro down on the bed, letting him rest.

"Khorosho, sestra. Ya gotov." Okay, sister. I'm ready. Seven year old Pietro was standing against the wall.

Wanda grabbed ahold of Pietro's waist, nudging his foot forward with hers.

She let him regain what little balance he had, scooting his other foot forward.

"Teper' vy pytayetes'." Now you try. Wanda was supporting all of his weight, but what was important now was that he would learn.

"Ya budu padat'." I'll fall. Pietro mumbled.

"Net, vy ne budete. Ya tebya ponyal." No, you won't. I've got you. Wanda tightened her grip further.

Pietro used all of his strength to scoot a foot forward about half an inch. Wanda praised him, grinning. He tried his other foot, only getting it to move about a centimeter.

"Ya ne mogu eto sdelat'." I can't do it. He looked down at his thin, practically immobile legs.

"Da, ty mozhesh'." Yes, you can. Wanda's eyes narrowed. "Vy mozhete i vy." You can and you will.

Pietro forced himself to talk another small step, breathing heavily. He panted, muscles screaming.

They heard heavy steps coming down the stairs. A booming voice screaming at them.

Father kicked Pietro down. The boy lay defenseless on the ground, stiff limbs making it impossible to fight back.

It was only when Father turned his attack on Wanda that he pulled himself in front of her, taking the blows for her.

"Zapustit'." Run. He told her.

She scrambled away, trying to carry Pietro but was too weak.

Father eventually tired himself out, and went back upstairs.

Pietro forced himself to his feet, nearly falling as he trudged towards Wanda. She had a bloody nose and bruises forming across her cheek. He needed to get to her. He leant on the wall and forced his feet forward so he could get to her.

He fell to the ground in front of her and she pulled him close, sobbing into his shoulder.

He'd just walked for the first time.

It was hard and he was unstable and couldn't do it for more than a few steps, but he did it.

Clint was shooting with Kate outside.

"So he has seizures, too?"

"Yep." Clint knocked an arrow.

"Do you know why?"

"He's had a hard life, Kate." Thwack. "He has cerebral palsy, probably caused by abuse." He grabbed another arrow from his quiver. "Epilepsy's probably caused by trauma, too."

"He was abused?" Kate shot a projectile.

"Yeah, pretty badly. When I found him he was living on the streets." Thwap. "He could hardly walk at all, his fine motor skills were much worse than they are now."

"But you love him?"

"Yeah, Kate. When you love someone, what they're capable of and what they look like doesn't matter. It's what's on the inside."

Kate lowered her bow. "Doesn't it get frustrating at times, though? Not being able to do something or go somewhere because of disability? Having to help with everyday tasks?"

"Yeah, it's frustrating. But I never get frustrated with Pietro, just at the situation. It's not the person's fault. I just support him. He's had it rough."

"Rougher than you and dad?"

"Oh yeah. His twin sister taught him to walk in a basement when he was seven, Kate. He was hit for having disabilities. He got kicked out, literally, for being gay. The circus was tough, but this is tougher by a long shot."

Kate nodded.

Clint sighed, aiming and firing.