Clint woke Pietro up at six in the morning.

"Mh?" He rolled over, looking sleepily to Clint.

"We've gotta head to the airport."

It had been a month since they started planning the trip and nothing had really changed.

"It is s-so early."

"Come on, baby."

Pietro sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Help me up?" He raised his arms up a bit.

Clint held him up. "Where'd we leave your crutches last night?"

"I do not know."

"Such a great help." Clint teased, adjusting the way he was holding onto Pietro.

Pietro sighed. "Fuck..." He tried to shift his weight. "They are in t-the living room."

"Why?" Clint gave him a perplexed look.

"You carried me last night, remember?"

"Oh...shit."

"Okay, do you wanna stay here?" It was way to early for Clint to be awake.

Pietro shook his head. "I need to go and get coffee."

"Alright."

Clint tightened his grip around Pietro's waist, walking slowly and letting Pietro put his weight on him. Pietro's thin legs tried to keep up, uncoordinated movements frustrating him. He let out a noise of frustration.

"What's wrong, honey?" Clint stopped.

"I just-" He sighed. "I wish I am normal. I hate not being able to w-walk right."

"I'm sorry, baby. I'll carry you, if you want."

Pietro shook his head. "Let go for second. I w-want to try something."

Clint complied, ready to catch him if he fell.

Pietro took a shaky step, careening towards the wall. He lent against it, and suddenly, he was his sixteen year old self again, just rescued by Clint.

He could hardly walk in general again, he was scared, alone. He nearly fell over with every step.

Clint's voice brought him out of his trace.

"Let me help you." He pulled Pietro up from his slouched position.

Pietro nodded. "I just wanted to know that I could still walk on my own a bit."

Clint helped him sit in a chair, going to get his crutches from across the room.

"Here," He handed them to his boyfriend. "Go make your coffee, I'm going to go check our luggage and get your braces."

"Okay." Pietro stood, walking into the kitchen.

Clint left, leaving Pietro and his thoughts.

•••

"You hungry?" Clint asked, pulling the suitcase.

"No." Pietro sighed. "I can carry the backpack, Clint."

"No, it's not a problem, I've got it." Clint smiled at him.

They arrived at the security check in, showing their tickets and moving into the bigger line.

"Will my braces set off the m-machine?" He looked down at the capri sweatpants he wore that exposed the plastic and metal.

"I don't know."

Pietro looked over to another line to see someone having a pat-down.

"They t-touch you?"

"Not all the time, but if they do touch you, I promise I'll keep you safe." Clint pecked Pietro's lips.

"Okay."

The worked their way up the line, Pietro's anxiety growing by the minute.

Clint sensed this, and it made him nervous.

He placed the luggage and backpack on the belt, then removing his shoes and hearing aids, because he knew that they would set off the detector. He knelt down to take off Pietro's shoes, causing the younger man to blush.

"Can you walk through the scanner without your crutches?" Clint asked carefully.

"I t-think so."

"I'll go through first." He told Pietro.

He watched his lips for the response. "Okay."

Clint stepped through the scanner, and it didn't go off. The bin with his hearing aids inside came through, and he placed them on his ears once more.

Pietro looked scared. He set his crutches on the belt to the x-ray machine before nervously stumbling over the threshold, leaning on the belt when he was through. The buzzer, of course, went off. Clint rushed over to hold Pietro up while his crutches went through the machine.

The TSA agent pulled the two aside.

"Can you stand independently with your hands above your head for five to seven seconds for an advanced screening?" She asked.

"I do not t-think so." Pietro looked down, face flushing.

"Okay, then I need to give a physical pat down. You can have it here or in a closed off section." She said.

"H-here is okay." Pietro replied, looking nervously to Clint.

Pietro splayed his crutches to the sides, supporting himself while the agent ran her hands over his skinny, crooked frame.

"You're all clear." She went to go test his medications.

Eventually, Pietro got to go sit down.

"You okay, baby?"

"J-just a little sore."

"I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault."

Pietro fought with his shoes for a while, finally slipping them on.

Clint sat next to him, running a hand through Pietro's shaggy hair.

"You sure you're alright?" Clint held Pietro's hand.

He hummed affirmatively, standing. "Come, we will be late."

Clint scoffed. "We've got an hour till boarding."

Pietro glared at him. "I am slow."

"I doubt it'll take us an hour to get there."

"Let's just go, yes?"

"Okay."

He moved rigidly after Clint, who was leading him to the gate.

About half way there, Pietro's legs began to hurt. He stopped off to the side, leaning against the wall.

"Are you okay, honey?" Clint moved the hair from Pietro's eyes.

"Y-yes. My knees just hurt a bit." He sighed.

"Do you want me to see if I can hunt down one of those wheelchairs?"

"Net, I a-am okay."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon then. It's only a little farther." Clint smiled.

Pietro leaned forward and kissed him, hair falling back into his face.

"You need a haircut." Clint fixed his hair again, knowing Pietro would get frustrated because he couldn't fix it himself.

"Do not."

"Do too."

Pietro giggled, sliding his feet forward.

"I love you." Clint placed a hand on Pietro's lower back.

"I love you, too." Pietro's lopsided grin lit up Clint's world.

The duo arrived at the gate, Clint sitting Pietro down.

"Okay, I think I'm gonna go get some coffee. You want some?" The elder kissed his forehead.

Pietro nodded, fumbling with the backpack to retrieve a tablet. He couldn't use a smartphone because of his hands, so Clint had the tablet wired to cellular network.

Clint walked off to a stand that presumably sold coffee, standing in line and looking back at Pietro every few minutes.

He looked content, shaggy faded silver hair draping across his face as he concentrated on the screen. Probably reading, he was getting better with the english language.

Clint placed his order, leaning against the counter while he waited. He accepted the coffees, thanking the barista and walking back over.

Pietro looked up when Clint sat down.

"What're you doing?"

"Reading."

"What're you reading?"

"T-There Will Be Lies is name of the book."

"Hm. I don't think I've read it."

Pietro pushed the tablet towards Clint, accepting the cup of iced coffee.

"T-Thank you." He kissed Clint quickly.

"No problem, honey." The older of the two put his hand on Pietro's thigh, causing the younger to smile.

"So our plane leaves soon, correct?" Pietro sipped the drink.

"In about fifteen minutes, yeah."

He nodded, shifting position.

"Did you see restroom in here?" Pietro grabbed a crutch, sitting on the edge of his chair.

"Oh, yeah. It was back a little ways, I'll walk with you." Clint stood, pulling Pietro to his feet.

They approached the bathrooms slowly, at Pietro's pace.

"Are bathrooms on plane?"

"I don't think they're accessible for you, they don't have the metal bars."

Pietro sighed. "Okay."

Upon entrance to the bathroom, there was a paper note on a stall.

'Disabled stall out of service. Sorry for inconvenience.'

Pietro cursed in russian.

He could hardly use non-accessible stalls. He stumbled into one, clinging to the walls and trying to force his near rigid legs to bend.

•••

"Pre-board passengers with small children under the age of five and passengers with disabilities may now board." The female voice spoke over the intercom.

It was after the A seating passengers had boarded, so the plane was a bit full. The airline they were using allowed them to pick their own seats, but passengers boarded in groups of A, B, and C. It was a bit more complicated and used some numbers, but Pietro didn't care to know all the details.

Clint helped him down the ramp-like decline to the plane. There was a line, so they waited.

A baby in front of them started crying. Clint sighed.

The couple stepped over the threshold onto the aircraft, slowly moving down the aisle. A mother was seating her children. She was also blocking the aisle.

An able bodied person might've been able to squeeze by, but Pietro's crutches wouldn't allow him through.

He didn't say anything, just stood half in front of and half beside Clint. He didn't want to be rude.

She obviously noticed, but continued to block the way.

Clint wasn't having it.

"Excuse me, we'd like to get through." He said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, sorry." She moved.

Pietro walked forward, tripping and almost falling because his crutch hung up on the edge of a seat.

The only reason he didn't fall was because Clint grabbed his arm.

"You okay, honey?"

"Yes, I am fine." He stopped at an empty row.

Clint sat Pietro on the aisle seat so if he had to get up it wouldn't be too difficult.

"Okay...I think I'm supposed to put your crutches in the overhead compartment thingy." Clint chuckled unsurely.

Pietro laughed quietly. "I do n-not know."

"I'm...I'm just gonna put them there..." Clint put them up in the compartment.

Pietro giggled as Clint sat in the seat next to him.