Clint ran into Pietro's room, doctor Cho close behind him.

Zaine looked up, panic and grief bright in his eyes. "He stopped breathing, I-I didn't know what to do."

Clint got onto the bed next to Pietro, touching the young man's head with one hand, the other checking his heart. It was either too weak to detect or not beating at all. His eyes were shut, his lips parted slightly. But Zaine was right. He wasn't breathing.

Taking the injection needle from Helen, Clint quickly lifted the young man's sleeve and stuck the needle in Pietro's arm, pushing in the liquid. Pietro didn't even twitch. Clint took out the needle, throwing it on the floor and moving to stroke Pietro's head. The kid remained motionless, breathless. Clint cast a desperate look at doctor Cho.

"Helen…" He croaked, grief glittering in his eyes. "Why isn't he breathing? The injection…"

She shook her head, looking down at Pietro mournfully. "I think we were too late."

"No…" Clint murmured under his breath, looking back to Pietro. "No, kid… Kid, wake up." He gently shook Pietro's uninjured shoulder, a choke of grief rising in his throat. "Pietro, please…"

Doctor Cho moved forward, pressing two fingers to the side of Pietro's neck to check for a pulse. She shut her eyes, seeming to stay there for a long time before opening them again, drawing her hand away.

"Got an output." She murmured quietly. "It's weak, but it's there. I need to get him to a medical room, fast."

Clint was already lifting the young man, cradling his limp form in a firm but gentle hold. Helen led the way, running out of the room and down the hallways of the tower. Sprinting after her, Clint followed the woman into the nearest medical facility and quickly lay Pietro down on the bed. He took a few steps back as doctors milled around the young man, taking his shirt off and prepping him for Helen, who was equipping the defibrillators.

She moved to stand by the side of the bed and another doctor switched the machine on. "Shocking." Helen warned, causing the doctors to step back. "Three, two, one."

She touched the devices to Pietro's chest and an electrified buzz shot through the air and Pietro's body jerked violently. The doctors glanced to the monitors for a second but nothing had changed. Helen hovered the defibrillators over Pietro again.

"Again." She ordered. "Shocking, three, two, one."

The shock passed through Pietro again, jolting his body and, with a startled gasp, he sat bolt upright. His chest heaved as he gulped in rapid breaths, eyes wide with shock as his entire body started to shiver. Clint rushed over to him, sitting beside him on the bed and touching his shoulder. Pietro flinched as if he was being hit, snapping his head to Clint, his eyes flaring with panic.

"Hey, hey, calm it kid." Clint soothed gently, bracing his hands to both of Pietro's shoulders. "Calm down, it's alright. It's okay, hey-" He moved a hand up to the side of Pietro's jaw, turning his head back towards him as he began to flash his gaze around the room. "Hey, look at me, you're safe. Okay? You're alright."

Pietro swallowed hard, his breathing gradually calming into a steadier rhythm. Letting out a quiet sigh, he shut his eyes, hanging his head. Clint slowly dropped his hands from the young man's shoulders. Raising a hand to his head suddenly, Pietro winced, letting out a slight gasp of pain as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"Pietro?" Clint asked fearfully. "Pietro what's wrong?"

"Ah!" Pietro shook his head a little, keeping his eyes closed. "Ah, it-it hurts. Clint…"

One of the doctors gently pushed Pietro back down, trying to hold him still as he scrambled on the bed, his hand clutched to his forehead. The doctors gathered around Pietro, holding him down as one of them inserted a cannula into his forearm.

"Alright Pietro, alright, gonna give you something to stop the pain now." The doctor murmured, attaching a tube to the cannula. "Give it a minute, the pain'll stop soon."

Pietro grunted, spasming his body in an attempt to force the doctor's off. He let out a yell of anguish, making Clint flinch slightly. One of the doctors holding Pietro down looked back to Clint, gesturing for him to come closer. The archer hesitantly took a few steps forward, so he stood beside the bed.

"Can you try to calm him down?" The doctor asked quietly. "He's in distress. Please, he shouldn't sleep when he's in this state."

Clint gave a quick nod and the doctor's moved to allow him to stand closest to Pietro's head. The archer gently rested a hand to Pietro's chest, moving the other to the young man's forehead. He cleared his throat silently, trying to block out the beeping of the monitors.

"Kid, it's me." He whispered softly, immediately noticing Pietro's focus sharpen slightly. "You know me, yeah? It's that stupid old man you like to make fun of." He smiled a little, to reassure Pietro as the kid allowed his eyes to open a fraction. "You see? It's me…"

"Clint…" Pietro let out the name as a breath.

The archer gently touched the side of Pietro's jaw, his thumb caressing the kid's cheek. "Shh…" He hushed softly, noting Pietro's breathing was slowing due to the morphine. "That's right, it's okay… You gotta sleep now, yeah?"

Pietro shook his head weakly, though Clint could see he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "No… No, don't want to…"

Clint let his hand move up to stroke Pietro's head. "Why Pietro?" He asked softly, sure to keep very calm, as opposed to the fear he was feeling at the state the kid was in. "Why don't you want to sleep? Sleep's good, it'll make you feel better, I promise."

Pietro shut his eyes, letting out a soft whine. "No…" He whimpered breathlessly, his voice trailing slightly as the drugs took effect. "No, he… He'll be angry at me… No…"

Clint was about to ask who he meant, but the kid was already under, the morphine deepening his breathing. Pietro slept, peacefully for once.


Pietro winced as he stepped into the shower, a sharp pain in his ribs shooting up through the entirety of his body. Raising his hands, he ran his fingers through his already soaked, white hair.

Catching a hint of colour, he looked down, seeing that the water draining down the plug was tinged red from his injuries he had received at training today. Trying to ignore it, he turned, so he faced the oncoming water and braced his hands again the pale tiles.

It had been a couple of days since Zaine had tried to kill him and Pietro was beginning to wish he'd succeeded.

Warm water slid down his face, rinsing blood from the cuts Zaine had gifted him with. His trainer had been annoyed, angry that Pietro had survived his murder attempt. Realisation shot through Pietro. He tried to murder me...

Now Pietro found himself debating his options. Endure it, tell someone, or do what Zaine wanted and run away. The latter would be the easiest. But Pietro didn't want to run anymore; he'd spent a good part of his life running and he was sick of it. He knew he was stubborn, proud, slightly over confident- bordering on cocky- sometimes. That's why telling someone wasn't an option anymore. He couldn't involve Wanda in this, or Clint for that matter. This was his mess. He could sort it out on his own.

A stab of agony hit his chest and he winced, turning and sliding down to the floor. Warmth stung at his eyes and he blinked furiously, refusing to let himself cry. He won't cry, he will not cry.

"I can handle it." He whispered under his breath, his face buried in his arms, which were folded on his knees. "I can handle it..." Anger overwhelmed him for a moment. He was angry at himself for being so affected by this. "It's not that big a deal." He hissed to himself. "Stop getting upset, this is stupid."

Pain throbbed through his body and he couldn't without a grunt of anguish, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Warm water slid down his back and he tucked his legs closer, sobbing against his knees. It wasn't just about the pain this time. It was the source of his pain. He was beginning to think Dyson was right; he was weak, mentally, physically, emotionally weak.

He straightened up, leaning back against the cold tiles. He let himself cry. No one could see him here, no one will ever get to see him in this state. Zaine was breaking him. He thought he was strong enough to put up with it, but he isn't. This fight is harder than anything Pietro's faced.

Pietro's losing.

And he has no idea what to do.