After many tests Pietro could not name, he was called back into the room with Clint.

He sat down, and Clint smiled at him softly.

"It looks like cerebral palsy. We're not sure how it went unnoticed for so long, or why you weren't treated when you were younger. As you know, it affects fine motor skills in your hands and legs, and also gives you a bit of a speech impediment. What we can do is provide crutches and get you fitted for some braces. We can also recommend physical therapy for your hands." The tall woman with dark hair and squarish glasses concluded, glancing at her notes.

"Have you ever used crutches before?"

Pietro shook his head.

"Okay. I'm going to go get them, and then we'll walk through how to use them."

She left, leaving Clint and Pietro in silence.

Clint rubbed the back of Pietro's hand, kissing his cheek. The younger blushed and smiled, giggling like a little kid.

Clint shook his head, chuckling. "You're such a child, you know that?"

Pietro nodded, looking down at the ground.

"Whatcha thinking?" Clint asked.

"My sister. She called, yesterday. I am scared for her."

Clint's smile dropped. "Oh, I'm so sorry. We could...we could go get her, y'know? Take her then call the cops and get your dad put away."

"Maybe. I do not know, Father is not safe person to be around."

"It'll be okay." Clint pressed his lips to the top of Pietro's head.

The doctor walked in and Clint pulled away.

"Okay, these are Lofstrand crutches, commonly referred to as forearm crutches or elbow crutches. You're going to put your arm through this cuff, and put your hand around this peg. We might need to adjust them a bit." She explained, pulling up the rolling stool up to sit and instruct Pietro.

"Okay, top of the hand through here."

Pietro slid his arm through the gray cuff. It was slightly cold against his skin. He clasped his hand the best he could around the handle, repeating the action with the second.

"Alright, now push down when you stand."

Pietro did, and he stood up with an unknown ease. A bright smile lit his face, spreading to Clint's as well.

"Okay, now you're going place one of the crutches in front of you a bit."

Pietro complied.

"Now step up to it."

Pietro walked up to the crutches. It was easier than it had ever been in his life.

"Okay, we did fit you for braces so you'll have to come back in a few weeks." She reminded.

The doctor adjusted the length a bit, then letting them leave.

Pietro scuffed his lamer foot on the floor, now able to walk with more stability. He looked gratefully to Clint.

He would admit that the aide was difficult to use, at least at first, but it was so much easier than walking unaided.

Clint gave him a thumbs up, slowing his pace to match the boy's.

He made it down the hall, arms burning slightly from the new use.

Clint got to door for the teen on the way out.

"We can get you some lighter, better crutches online later."

"Better ones?" Pietro replied, a bit out of breath.

"Those ones are kinda heavy compared to others." Clint supplied, helping him into the car.

"Oh."

Clint ducked into the car, turning the ignition.

"Hey, Pietro, where did you live?" He asked.

Pietro unsurely relayed the address. "Why?"

"Your sister is in in trouble, right? We can't just leave her in an unsafe environment."

"Clint, we cannot go there and take her without plan."

"Plan my ass. We'll just go in."

"I do not think this is good idea."

"Neither do I." Clint put the car into gear.

"We must wait. Not today. We do it other day, when I can be ready."

"Okay." Clint backed out of the space. "We'll wait."

•••

A week had passed. Pietro opened the car door before the familiar house. They didn't live near anyone, so no one could help. It was just he and Clint. And he was scared shitless.

"You okay?" Clint rubbed his arm softly.

"No. I am about to face Father and I have crutches that I hardly know how to use and a sister who is depending on me."

"It's gonna be alright."

Pietro sighed.

"You want me to come in?" Clint asked softly.

"Not at first. If I am not back in ten minutes, come in."

Pietro shook with fear as he stepped up the stairs leading to his house. He breathed deeply, knocking.

The door opened, his mother appearing. She was thin and beaten, but the sight of her was comforting.

"Pietro." Her eyes widened. There was a deep bruise on her cheek and a cut on her lip, but she smiled slightly. Her look was soon replaced with worry. "Pietro, ty ne mozhesh' byt' zdes'. Vy dolzhny idti. Bystryy, pred Ottsom uvedomleniya." Pietro, you can't be here. You've got to go. Quick, before Father notices.

"Net, Mama. Ya zdes' dlya Wanda. Ya voz'mu yeye v bezopasnoye mesto." No, Mother. I'm here for Wanda. I'll take her to a safe place. Pietro stood as straight as he could, looking his mother dead in the eyes.

"Otets ne pozvolit etomu sluchit'sya." Father will not let that happen.

"U nego ne budet vybora." He won't have a choice.

"Oh, Pietro." A tear trickled down her cheek.

She embraced him, nearly causing him to fall but he stood strong, weight supported by the metal aide.

"Kto eto?!" Who is it?!

His mother stepped out of the way, revealing her son to the abusive father.

"Vy." You. The man's eyes reddened, growing with fury.

"Otets." Father.

"Ya skazal vam, nikogda ne vozvrashchat'sya, kalechat." I told you never to come back, cripple.

"Ya zdes' dlya Wanda." I'm here for Wanda.

Pietro was shoved back and he lost his balance, falling to the floor with a yelp. The crutches clattered to the floor and his father kicked them away, growling like an animal. He tried to pull himself to his feet, but it was no use.

"Pietro?" Wanda's voice came from the top of the stairs.

"Ostavaytes' tam, malen'kaya sestra." Stay there, little sister.

"Chto vy sobirayetes' delat', pedik?" What're you going to do, faggot? His father taunted, slapping him.

Pietro stayed silent, willing his muscles to cooperate and let him stand up.

Father kicked him hard, knocking him on his back. His mother wept and pleaded, but it was to no avail.

Wanda ran down the stairs.

"Net! Net! Ya ne khochu, chtoby vy poluchit' travmu!" No! No! I don't want you getting hurt. Pietro yelled, pleading with her to stay away.

Wanda stood in front of Pietro, shielding him from attacks. She pulled him to his feet, handing him a crutch that had been kicked to the side.

"Run." Pietro whispered.

Wanda gave him an uncertain look.

"Go. Now."

She bolted out the door.

Father pushed Pietro out of the open door, slamming it.

Pietro fell by the force of the shove, only to be caught by Clint. He locked eyes with him for a moment, bursting into tears.

Clint lifted him bridal style, carrying him to the car.

Pietro sat in the back with Wanda.

"I missed you so much." Pietro's voice cracked.

Wanda nodded, taking his curled hand in her bruised one.

She was silently crying too, gripping his hand tighter when Clint peeled rubber out of the driveway.

"I did not think I would see you again." Wanda cried.

"I told you I would come for you." Pietro smiled.