Author's note: It that time again, where in input with something completely new! This is just going to be a short-ish two-shot, but I enjoyed writing it with feeling, so that's all that really matters. I think this is the last thing I'm going to write about Pietro for a while, as it's been so long since I've seen the movie now. Feel free to check out some of my other works as well, as I just finished one called Something New and it was NatashaxPietro. I've begun other projects as well, but this slightly sidetracked me.
Feel free to review if you have the time and enjoy the story!
It had been an easy split second decision for Pietro to put himself in between Hawkeye, the little boy he was holding and the bullets. He had not expected to live through it, but pictured that it would be a good thing to die for. An older, good man and an innocent child that had no business being in danger in the first place. That annoying old man didn't have business being there either, Pietro could run circles around the guy not even using his enhanced speed either. So, two for the life of one had been an easy choice and Wanda could tell everyone that he died a good man instead of a good for nothing street rat. That would be easier for her as well, maybe Hawkeye would make sure she was taken care of, since Pietro had made this big sacrifice for him.
He hadn't planned on waking up, let alone only minutes later to the guy he had just saved sprawled out over the seat just beside of him, looking more dead than alive. It was a shock, not because he didn't think he would have lived through that either, but because Hawkeye was alone. He looked worse than Pietro and only had one bullet wound noticeable. Then again, the guy was certainly not enhanced and looked to be bleeding out quite easily, his breathing was harsh and his eyes were closed.
The plane that they were on shook a bit, reminding Pietro just how much he preferred being on the ground to the air, and Hawkeye fell off his bench and landed on Pietro. Well, Pietro guessed that at least that had hurt the old man less than the ground probably would have. It knocked the breath right out of Pietro for a moment, but like everything else he was fast to recover. The fact that Hawkeye didn't have any reaction though, was not a good thing.
With a strained huff, Pietro pulled them over gently so that Clint was laying down on his back, and Pietro was hovering over him. His own wounds itched, but he couldn't feel any of them bleeding anymore; it was probably another side effect of being enhanced that he didn't want to think about. Most of the bullets remained in his skin, but now wasn't the time to worry about that, they could be removed later by one who knew what they were doing.
He put pressure on the other man's wounds and took note of the whimper that he received in return. That was not good, and Pietro was starting to really worry. The rest of the avengers wouldn't just leave one of their own for dead, would they? They seemed to have been a tighter team then that on the battlefield, but Pietro's respect for them was just slowly draining.
Hawkeye's eyes fluttered open but they didn't seem to see anything around him, Pietro took a guess that he was already fevered and would not put it past him to be hallucinating. A voice would calm him though, he could remember his sister talking him through fevers and stroking his hair. It was thoughts like that that still grounded him from day to day. "Old man, you are going to be okay now, Pietro is here with you." He sounded stupid in even his own ears, but he really wasn't sure what to say. What do you say to a man whom you nearly died for but seemly now failed to save?
"Clint, not that old." The old man, Clint, rasped out with a degree of difficulty. Clint was a weird name that Pietro hadn't heard before, but they came from differ bet countries so it probably wasn't that strange in America. Or maybe it was, but it seemed to suit Hawkeye none the less.
"Okay then Clint, I'm going to need you to stay awake with me. We will be landing soon." He didn't know when they would be landing, but could really hope that it would be soon. Another whimper left Clint and Pietro found himself rearranging them so that Clint head was in his lap, while he was still able to put a fair amount of pressure on the shot wound.
The ship rocked slightly, but nowhere near as bad as it had the first time, yet Pietro didn't even notice. His attention was full on Clint. He wasn't sure what else he could possibly do but hold him close and keep him from being alone during these moments. Wanda was always so much better at this kind of thing, if she was here instead of him, Clint probably would have been much better off.
Wanda wasn't here right now though, and Pietro was. Clint turned his head and nuzzled the inside of Pietro's upper thigh and for a split second Pietro thought that it had been stupid to move them into this position. Then he practically smacked himself, Clint was in a lot of pain and he was just looking for comfort. He probably didn't even know it was Pietro or remember that that was his name. Don't pop a boner with a guy slowly dying in your lap.
Clint's hand came up, and rested with his over the open wounds, not putting pressure but just resting there. His hand was colder then Pietro would prefer it into be, and Pietro was beginning to worry that they'd never land. Clint was going to bleed to death before he was going to get help at this rate. The scarier thought was that Pietro would be the one spending his last moments together with him if he didn't make it. Someone he had just meant and had never had a pleasantry with.
The ship started jolting though, and Pietro suspected that it was in fact due to landing. It wasn't good for Clint though, as the man hissed into Pietro's thigh and tried to bit his lip to stop the sound. Tried was the right word, because he was plastered so far into Pietro's thigh that he only succeeded in biting Pietro. Whom, was not happy about the harsh bite and had to stop himself from yelping and jolting away.
The doors opened and medics rushed in, with a worried Wanda. The bed they were rushing in was clearly meant for him, but he called to them without hesitation and proceeded to help load Clint into the bed. It was one of the only times in his life when he pushed his sister aside, he ran with the medics not even caring where they were.
A surgery room was where they arrived at and Pietro was pushed back out the doors. Which closed in front of him, and he had never felt so stressed in his life. What if he died in there, what if Clint called out for him? Wanda caught up with him and tugged him into a hug, he returned it out of instinct only for his gaze never left that pair of doors. Clint had been dying in his hands, and now was out of reach. Pietro's heart pumped hard and he felt a little bit dizzy from the stress. He could still loose Clint, but he wouldn't even be beside him.
Wanda led him to a chair to sit down and felt the bullets now under with his skin, he knew they had to be removed, but not while Clint was vulnerable like this. If someone attacked the hospital now, Clint would be defenceless and open to death. Pietro would watch over him until he woke up, besides he didn't have anywhere else to go.
When Wanda was done feeling the skin, they wrapped themselves up together to sit in wait in silence. The best thing about Wanda was she didn't need words between them, a simple touch was always enough. He wished he was in that operating room holding Clint's hand, he needed that touch too. That was a consequence of caring, it hurt when the other hurt and you worried when you didn't know if they were okay.
He cared now though and that wasn't going to stop; damn the consequences.