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When they woke the next morning, Pietro felt like he was hit by a train. Every moment with combatted with sharp pains and his back was tight and spastic.

Clint rolled over, looking into Pietro's blue eyes. A dark purple and blue bruise painted his upper left cheek and there was a small cut on the bridge of his nose, but he still smiled.

Clint kissed him softly, stroking his hair.

"How're you, baby?"

"Sore."

Clint nodded. He gently helped Pietro up and put another pillow underneath him so he was propped up.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." Clint apologized.

"Clint, you could not have known-"

"We did know. We saw the agents enter the building but I was told someone was ready on it. I still wanted to go but I got held up."

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