Wanda gasped in surprise when they pulled into Clint's driveway.

"You live here?"

"For past three and half weeks, yes."

"And before that?"

"Streets." He replied casually, carefully stepping out of the car.

Wanda went to help him, but he held up a hand, telling her he could do it.

He trudged forward, Clint walking slowly beside him.

He had been told the left side of his body had more issues than the right, and suddenly, he became aware of it. He felt embarrassed to have to use crutches in front of his sister, to admit he was weak.

It was easy to deny all those years of sitting in the cold basement floor, the struggle that he went through to stand and walk was confused with his injuries. Now reality hit Wanda head on. Her brother was disabled. He always had been, and always would be. She watched from behind as he moved the crutches before him one at a time, shuffling up. The plastic braces he wore on his legs that showed under the cuffs of his jeans, limiting the movement, and even now he looked unstable. Like he could fall any second.

Pietro sat on the couch, propping his crutches beside him.

Clint had left the twins alone. He knew they needed space.

Wanda sat by her brother, sharing a silence for a moment.

"So, what is it?" She touched the outline of the braces that showed through the pants.

"C-cerebral palsy, I think." He tripped over the words a few times. "It is not so bad."

Wanda looked at him with pity in her eyes. Pietro hated that.

"See, just plastic. It only help me walk. Not bad." He tugged up his pant leg to show the white plastic and metal.

Wanda clung to Pietro, burying her face in his shoulder. "I am sorry."

"Why?" Pietro stroked her auburn hair.

"I made you come back, face father. He hurt you." She pointed to the bruise on his cheek and the scrape on his elbow.

"It is okay." He gave a slight smile.

Wanda curled up on his lap, feeling safe for the first time since Pietro was kicked out.

"Get some rest." Pietro reached for the crutches.

"Stay." Wanda tugged his sleeve.

"Okay, little sister." He allowed her to sleep, arms around him.

Clint walked back in half an hour later, seeing her draped in Pietro's arms. He was crying softly, not to disturb the sleeping twin on him.

Wanda stirred, sitting up. She jumped away before noticing it was only Pietro.

"Hey, little sister." He pulled her into a hug.

Wanda held him tightly, smiling into his shoulder.

Pietro pulled away. His eyes were dull. He looked confused. Pietro grabbed his crutches, pulling himself up to stand. Clint put a hand on his shoulder, asking him if he was okay.

That's when the spasms started. His vision went dark and his hearing muffled as he heard Clint yell his name.

He shook, jerking uncontrollably and fell to the ground.

Wanda screamed.

Clint held Pietro on his side, counting the seconds that the seizure lasted. He shook and spasmed, jerking violently.

At last, Pietro stopped shaking. Clint breathed a sigh of relief.

"Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" Clint began to examine him.

"I bit my tongue." Pietro sat up. "What happened?"

"I think you had a seizure. It's not uncommon with cerebral palsy." Clint pulled him up. "I'll talk to your doctor about it tomorrow."

Pietro nodded, looking to Wanda. Her eyes were wide with fear, face pale.

"I am okay." He assured, grabbing his crutches and stalking off.

He blushed and lent against the outside of the house. His head was spinning.

He saw Clint come outside, but didn't say anything.

"Hey, it's okay." The warm palm caressed his cheek.

"I feel sick." He groaned, wrapping his arms around Clint's neck.

"It's okay. It's okay."

Clint lifted him up, carrying the thin boy into the bedroom.

He pushed his face into the pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.