DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE AVENGERS OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS. I AM NOT MAKING ANY MONEY FROM THIS.

Hi folks! I found this kicking around on my laptop from a while ago and thought I'd put it out there. I don't know if I'll ever add any more – depends if I pick up the thread again. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it!

Clint stared down at the boy stretched out on the hospital bed beneath him. He closed his eyes and saw Pietro crumpling to the earth, vivid red blood blossoming across his body as the bright eyes and defiant smirk faded away, seemingly forever.

Clint still found it hard to believe the hot-headed, rebellious, sarcastic young Sokovian had been willing to die to save his life and that of the little boy he had held in his arms. He remembered lying next to the shattered body of a life that had hardly begun and wishing he could swap places with it. Sure, the kid was irritating, smug and down-right arrogant with his drawling one-liners and infuriating smirk. But his sacrifice changed everything. Clint saw that the tough exterior was nothing more than a façade built to protect a boy living a difficult life. A boy now lying in a white impersonal hospital bed but thankfully not a coffin.

Suddenly, Pietro stirred. Clint rapidly dashed away his tears as ice blue eyes opened and blinked sleepily.

"Old man?" Pietro muttered blearily.

"Yeah, it's me, Speedy. How ya feeling?"

Pietro frowned. "Bored. Where is Wanda?" He tried to get up, but Clint shoved him back down and called for Helen.

"He's trying to leave again, Helen." He told her.

Helen checked Pietro's vitals. "You're not going anywhere Mr Maximoff." She told him sternly.

"But I have been here for AGES!" he complained.

"A week isn't ages for someone who's been shot 43 times." She responded.

Pietro huffed exasperatedly. "So? I am well now." he lifted his shirt to show the pale scars that had replaced the vivid red tears in his skin. "Let me leave, I want to see Wanda."

"No way." Helen and Clint said at the same time.

When Pietro's gaze darkened, becoming slightly murderous, Clint sat on the edge of his bed and began his best dad-lecture. "Pietro, I think you should be a little more respectful towards Dr Helen Cho. You ought to be dead, but she has managed to bring you back. I think you can wait a few more weeks to see Wanda."

Pietro merely echoed "A few more WEEKS?", his voice full of horror and disbelief.

Helen sighed exasperatedly and folded her arms. "That's if you're lucky." She said, before marching back to the main infirmary.

Pietro turning angrily to Clint. "If I cannot see my sister, how come I can see you? I would much rather be with her."

Clint felt a little stung but didn't let it show on his face. "Wanda is training to become an Avenger."

"An Avenger?" Pietro spat disgustedly. "Why would she want to do that?" But Clint could see from his eyes that he was deeply hurt by this news.

"Look Pietro, she isn't not visiting because she's moved on with her own life and forgotten about you. She's not visiting because seeing you like this," Clint gestured to the wires and beeping machinery surrounding and protruding from him "physically makes her sick. She can't stand it. Look, she's written a note for me to give you." Clint handed it to him. He read it eagerly and seemed suddenly to become much happier.

Clint turned to go, his patience thoroughly worn out by the little brat. Why couldn't Pietro be noble and selfless more often?

"Wait!" a hand latched onto his wrist. He turned and found Pietro gazing at him with pleading, wide, pitiful blue eyes. "Thank you for the note. Please do not leave me yet, you have only just come." When Clint hesitated he added a charming hopeful smile. Clint rolled his eyes and sat back down again. Pietro smirked victoriously.

"What do you want, kid?"

"For you to stop calling me kid."

"Then stop calling me old man."

"Never."

"Fine, kid."

They both glared at each other for a moment. Then Clint asked, "How old actually are you?"

"Old enough to not be a kid."

Clint waited. Finally, Pietro muttered "24."

"Okay…Pietro."

A big, happy grin spread across Pietro's face. "Finally!"

"Thank you for saving my life, Pietro."

The smile dropped from Pietro's face. He looked serious and far older as he said "Don't mention it." Then the evil glint reappeared in his mesmerising eyes as he added "old man."

Clint gave a huff of half amusement, half exasperation. Then an awkward silence descended between them. A nurse came in carrying a mug of coffee which she handed to Clint. He had just taken a gulp when Pietro asked suddenly:

"Are you married?"

Completely taken aback, Clint choked and sprayed hot coffee all over Pietro's bed.

Pietro gave a cry of alarm before wrinkling his nose in disgust and wiping his cheek with a sleeve. "That is…what is the word? Gross!" His strong Sokovian accent glamourized the pronunciation.

"Sorry." Clint gasped, wincing as the spilt coffee soaked through his jeans and scorched his skin.

"It is okay." Pietro said, before starting to laugh. "You look funny!" he gestured to Clint's dripping face and stained white t-shirt. Clint gave him a withering look but couldn't help a slight chuckle himself. It was good to see Pietro laugh again.

"But you never answered the question." Pietro persisted.

"No, I'm not married."

"Girlfriend? Boyfriend?"

Clint felt a sharp stab of pain as he thought of Laura. "Not anymore." He responded tersely.

"Why?" asked Pietro insistently.

"Mind your own damn business for once kid." Clint hissed furiously. He regretted speaking so harshly as Pietro's face fell.

"Sorry, Pietro. I didn't mean to get angry. She left me because she couldn't stand me going off into danger all the time and leaving her behind. She couldn't cope with the constant fear that every night I might not come home."

There was silence again as Pietro looked away, slightly abashed.

Clint cleared his throat. "Why do you ask anyway?"

Pietro looked up and sent him a razor-sharp grin that caused Clint's face to flame red, his knees to turn to jelly and his insides to melt.

"Pietro…" he said uncertainly.

"Yes Clint?" replied Pietro innocently.

"I'm… twice your age, you know that, right?"

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Of course I do! Why do you think I call you Old Man? Besides," He smirked, "I like older men."

Clint stood up rapidly, heart thumping painfully in his chest. The little git had no idea of the effect he was having on him. Pietro is toying with you because he enjoys making you squirm, Clint told himself firmly. "I have to go now." He told Pietro.

"Where?" Pietro asked, his voice full of disappointment.

Anywhere but here, Clint thought in his head, but he replied "Work."

Pietro flumped sulkily back down into bed with a huff. "You'll come back soon?"

"Sure, kid." Clint called behind him hastily as he rushed towards the exit.

"Will you bring a game?"

"Yes."

"What game?"

"Any game you like!"

"But what if you do not like it?"

"Just pick a game Pietro!"

"Monopoly?"

"Okay, fine!"

"Wait! How about Scrabble?"

"Scrabble it is!"

"Or Jenga?"

"Jeez, I'll just bring them all! I'm trying to leave Pietro!"

"Only old men say Jeez!"

But Clint had reached the door and escaped. He leaned on the wall outside and laughed. Then he mentally erased all thoughts of Pietro from his mind for the time being and returned home.

Thanks for reading! Please do leave a review :) As I said at the top, I might write more later but for now it's just a one-shot.