Nate seemed a bit shaken up when they reentered the apartment.

"Are you okay?" He asked timidly.

"Of course." Pietro had to think about the words.

"We're gonna get going." Clint spoke.

Wanda embraced Pietro, saying goodbye.

•••

Pietro laid in the dark bedroom about a week later. His head pounded and he felt nauseous and dizzy.

Clint knocked on the door before opening it.

"You okay?" He sat on the bed.

"Yes." His breathing was shallow and forced.

"I need to call your doctor, honey."

"Why?"

"I think you might have pneumonia." Clint rubbed the back of Pietro's hand.

"Oh. I will be fine. It is just a cold." He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his other hand.

"Baby, it's serious. I've heard the way you've been breathing. Your coughs are unhealthy." Clint played with Pietro's hair, looking down into his peaceful blue eyes.

"I will be okay."

Pietro's expression changed. "Fuck." He went to get up, falling to the floor and promptly puking.

"Aw, baby." Clint sighed. He stroked his boyfriend's hair as the younger gagged, dry heaving.

Pietro's braceless legs lacked the ability to support him, so he sat on the floor, unable to get up. Clint eventually picked him up, carrying him into the bathroom.

"Okay. You take a shower and I'll clean up out there, okay?" Clint kissed his forehead.

"Y-yes."

Pietro was set on the chair in the shower, and Clint left.

He undressed carefully as to not fall, standing with his knees pressed together, leaning on the wall. Turning on the water, he coughed, shaking and sitting on the ground because the chair was too far away. He leant forward, coughing more. Blood stained the white porcelain and was washed away by the water.

He breathed as deeply as he could, closing his eyes and focusing on inhaling. He hacked again, his chest hurting.

Clint walked in, seeing Pietro having a coughing fit on the floor, a spray of blood staining the ground.

He knelt beside him, not caring that his clothes were getting wet.

"Okay. Okay, okay." Clint tried to think. "Can you breathe?"

Pietro just kept coughing, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Clint rubbed his bare back, waiting for it to pass.

He stopped after a few minutes, breathing deeply.

"Are you okay?" Clint asked the younger.

"Yeah. Yes, I am f-fine." He sighed.

"I've gotta call the doctor."

"No."

"I know you won't do it."

"Exactly."

"Baby, I hate to see you this sick."

"Okay. Call." He pulled himself up on the rail that was attached to the wall.

Clint held the man up, kissing him gently. Pietro hooked his arms around Clint's neck, flush against him. He rested his head on Clint's shoulder, just staying there for a minute.

Clint sat him down on the chair, beginning to wash the silver hair.

"I could do that myself."

"I know."

He took off his wet shirt, tossing it outside the shower.

He helped him stand, keeping him up so he could wash himself

The doorbell rang.

Clint cursed. "Okay, I'll go get the door. You wanna stay here?"

"I will be okay here."

Clint left, Pietro heard the door open.

A soft female voice spoke.

"Dammit. Laura, I can't watch them today." Clint's voice spoke.

The argument intensified. He stumbled out of the shower, leaning on the wall as he threw on shorts and a oversized shirt.

"Fuck, Clint, I've gotta get to work. I can't get the babysitter and there's no other option. Why can't you?!"

"He's sick, okay? Pietro is sick. I don't think-"

Pietro entered from the hallway. "It is okay, Clint. I am alright." He spoke softly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, they can stay. I am not that sick." His messy hair was plastered to his forehead, hanging into his eyes, which had dark circles from the lack of decent sleep. His lips were cracked and chapped as well. He looked like shit.

"Alright, fine." Clint sighed.

Nate noticed Pietro.

He ran out, hugging him and nearly knocking the sick man over.

"Hey, kiddo." He gave a half smile.

"Why are you sick?" He asked concernedly.

"It is just a cold." He assured. "I am fine."

"I've gotta go, Clint. I'll be back tonight." Laura left.

Clint sighed. "Okay."

Nate got distracted by the TV, Cooper playing on a tablet with Lila.

Clint pressed the back of his hand to Pietro's forehead.

"You're burning up, baby."

"I am fine." He gazed up with tired eyes at Clint, wavering on his crutches a bit.

"C'mon, you should get some rest." Clint convinced.

"Okay."

Pietro stumbled after him, a bit slower as he didn't have braces on.

He laid in bed, sighing weakly before coughing.

"Okay. Yell if you need anything, alright? I'm going to call the doctor." Clint kissed his cheek and left.

Pietro felt the darkness of sleep wash over him like a warm blanket.

He didn't dream, didn't think. He was simply encased in darkness. It was soothing, comforting.

He woke to a bright light, white walls. A monitor beeping. He felt a tickle of air in his nose, and starchy sheets.