Only You

Chapter Twelve

Note: I'm so sorry that it's taken so long for me to get back to this. I have 6-7 more chapters written right now that can be posted. I'll have to re-read what I have to remember where this story was going when I stopped writing it a while back. Thanks for all the comments urging me to write more.

Pietro catches a glance at Clint and looks like a deer caught in the headlights. His face is pallid, colorless and shining with a layer of sweat. His shirt is stretched, which Clint makes sense of as Pietro grabs at the cloth and tugs. He's trying to resist another burst of speed by trying to focus his energy on clenching his fist and pulling tight at his shirt.

In another few seconds, he shudders terribly and Clint feels like he shouldn't be watching as Pietro disappears from the corner, slamming seconds later into an opposite wall. Clint feels like he's watching something far too vulnerable but stares at him like a hawk, unblinking and never moving his eyes away from Pietro's violent spasms. Clint stands helpless in the middle of the room, pivoting to keep up with the way Pietro tears uncontrollably through the room.

"You didn't see this coming?" He chokes out, looking ghostly as he tries to smile. Clint feels weak at the knees as his voice, as rough and gravely as it is, finds him. Pietro groans and doubles over as the veins in his arms bulge, gripping this time at his own skin, like he's trying to tear himself out.

Clint takes a step towards Pietro, and then another. His blue eyes look detached from his emotions — he shut down the vulnerability from making it to his face. Pietro burns a hole through the middle of Clint's outstretched hand. It's like he's never seen an act of kindness in his life and scared to know the consequences of accepting it.

It looks like he's being electrocuted and Clint barely steps back in time and into the clear as Pietro jerks forward in a frightening fast lurch. Clint think's he's going to fall but he can't tell — Pietro's a blur again and collapses just before hitting the wall. He's too weak to catch himself and slumps to the ground with a sickening thud.

He drags himself over to the wall, leaning into it. His head lolls forward. "Wanda," he groans.

"She's okay," Clint says before Pietro even has to ask. Pietro shudders again and his shoulders slump. The shudders subside. "Get a room ready for him," Clint orders into the radio, to Tony.

"Already on it. Fifth floor," Tony replies. "Romanov's at the stairs waiting for you."

Clint unlocks the door and opens it. He grunts and slips his arms under Pietro's shoulders and the bend of his knees, picking him up off the floor. He leaves the training room with Pietro unconscious in his arms.

Like Tony had said, Nat was waiting for him at the top of the staircase. She pulls open the door for him and he turns his body, maneuvering his chest parallel to the doorframe and stepping sideways to fit Pietro through the doorway. Natasha points with a nod of her head. "We set up a room for him down this way," she says, motioning for him to follow.

Clint glances down at Pietro before following. His heart clenches like a fist. Relief and worry simultaneously eat away at Clint as he walks after Natasha. She holds the door open for him and the archer steps inside. The first thing he sees is Wanda tucked into Steve's arms, barely tall enough to see over his broad shoulders.

Wanda makes eye contact with Clint. She looks different as her expression shifts through a million emotions, a different person entirely. Her eyes slip down to look at a face she didn't expect to ever see again. Her arms fall from around Steve's shoulders and she clasps her hands over her mouth, taking several steps back. Tears blur the face of her brother. Wanda can't move her legs for a minute, frozen in place, watching Pietro as he's lowered onto the bed.

Clint glances at everyone but Wanda. She didn't see the looks he gives, staring uninterrupted at the rising and falling of her brother's chest. "We'll give you some time," Steve says to her quietly, catching the archer's expression.

"You know how to find us if you need anything," Natasha offers. Clint leads them out of the room. Bruce is the last one out and gently closes the door behind him.

Wanda feels dream-like as she walks to the bathroom, running a cloth under cold water and wringing it out. She wipes away her tears with the back of her shaking hand as she sits down at the edge of the bed next to Pietro. Pushing back the hair from his forehead, she gently uses the washcloth to clean the sweat off his face and neck. She crawls into bed next to him and spends what feels like forever with her head on his chest, listening to his heart.

Her body is racked with sobs that grow progressively stronger the longer she listens to the steady beat. Her eyes feel like they're being pressed from inside her head and she takes a series of deep breaths, gasping for air as she regulates her breathing pattern.

Wanda falls asleep, passing out with exhaustion. Pietro briefly wakes, long enough to wrap an arm around her.

Clint checks in on Wanda an hour later, relieved to see her and Pietro both resting. Not lingering so that he can't tamper and ruin his own emotions, Clint closes the door again. He leans back against the door, sighing for a long time.

He thinks for a long time what he's going to do, if — when — he and Pietro properly meet again. His heart twists in anxiety and his stomach knots itself while crawling up his throat. Recalling the calm on Pietro's face, Clint starts back towards his room. Natasha had offered to take his kids to dinner and Clint's incredibly relieved because walking back, he knows he's going to cry.

He starts a shower and strips out of his clothes, locking the bathroom door and stepping into the hot stream of water. He stands, not washing his face or hair for several minutes. He just lets the water run down his skin, erasing the goosebumps across his body.