Clint raised the phone to his ear.
"Please pick up, come on." He muttered under his breath.
A moment later.
"Clint?"
Clint silently sighed with relief. "Laura. Are you and the kids alright?"
"We're fine." His wife's voice echoed down the mobile. "Are you okay? What about Pietro?"
"I'm alright…" He paused. "I found Pietro; we're back at the tower. You need to come through the passage right now. I'll meet you at this end. The-"
"Honey," Laura interrupted him gently. "Is Pietro okay?"
Another pause.
"He's not is he?" Laura murmured. "What did they do? Did they hurt him?"
"It's a long story. I'll explain everything when you get here." Clint promised. "You'll be safer here than there."
Laura hesitated as if she was about to argue that he tell her now. "Okay." She eventually agreed. "Okay, meet us at the end of the tunnel in an hour."
"I'll be there."
"Oh, and be prepared for a kid bombardment."
Clint smiled. "I look forward to it. Love you."
"I love you too. Bye."
Laura hung up and Clint pocketed his phone. He turned his gaze back to Pietro and sighed sadly.
"Still not waking up, huh?"
Pietro didn't respond, remaining motionless with his eyes shut. Clint sighed again, laying his hand on Pietro's, which was lying limp at his side. He gently, subconsciously, stroked his fingers down the back of Pietro's hand. Frowning slightly, he turned the younger man's hand over so his wrist was facing up. There was a white shadow of a slash across his pale skin.
"Kid…" Clint whispered aloud. "Oh, Pietro. I'm sorry."
He took Pietro's head in his hands, raising it slightly off the bed. Resting his forehead on Pietro's, Clint felt warm tears prickling the corners of his eyes and shut them tightly to stop any of the salty droplets from escaping.
"I love you." Clint breathed to words. "But not like that… Like a son I guess." He exhaled a quiet breath. "You have no idea what I would give to have you wake up now."
He opened his eyes, half expecting Pietro to awaken at his words. But he did not.
Clint lowered Pietro's head, gently laying it back down. It dropped to the side slightly, falling limp on the bed. Clint narrowed his eyes in sympathy and reached out a hand, laying it on his wavy hair. Pietro's throat suddenly convulsed and Clint drew his hand back. White, watery froth rose in his mouth, spilling over his lips. Clint carefully rolled Pietro's body to the left, so he was lying on his side. He quickly picked up a cloth from the desk beside the bed, pressing it to the younger man's mouth. Pietro let out a few piteous choking sounds, foam trickling from his parted lips.
Clint hushed him softly, wiping away the white froth with one hand and stroking Pietro's head comfortingly with the other. "Shhh, it's okay. It's okay."
His spluttering coughs soon dissolved into silence, letting out a quiet sigh and falling still once more. Clint exhaled a relieved breath and dropped the cloth back down on the table.
"There you go Kid…" He murmured, running his fingers, repeatedly, through Pietro's hair. "You're alright."
The door opened and Wanda came in, walking over to her brother.
"Has he moved or… Anything?" She asked immediately, sitting down on the side of the bed opposite to Clint.
"He… He was kind of choking a minute ago. I think he's got the poison out of his system." Clint told her, trying to sound optimistic. Then he glanced at his watch and stood up. "I need to go. My wife and kids are coming and I promised I'd meet them."
Wanda nodded, saying nothing, her eyes fixed on her unconscious brother. Leaning down, Clint stroked his fingers to Pietro's hair, whispering something, which was unheard by Wanda, in his ear.
"I promise I'll come back. Soon as I can. Just…" He broke off, swallowing back his sadness. "Just hang in there."
"Did you have to bring the kids?"
Laura looked at her husband. "Where else are they supposed to go?"
"You could get Nat to look after them. Or Tony or… Anyone." Clint suggested before adding, in a hushed voice, "Pietro's really sick."
He didn't want his children to get upset. Pietro visited the family often, almost every time Clint went to see them, and he had developed a close bond with all three kids. They had even started calling him by his first name; unlike they did with most of the other avengers, whom they referred to as Mr or Miss. Nathaniel, however, had difficulty pronouncing certain people's names, and so usually just called Pietro 'Quick'. That's if he spoke at all, which he rarely did.
"Then they can wait outside." Laura determinedly found a loophole. "Can you imagine Tony looking after these three?" She asked, gesturing to her children, who were walking behind them.
Nathaniel was toddling beside Cooper. The three year old's hand was grasped tightly in his brothers.
"Anyway," Laura continued quietly. "I want to see him."
Clint let out a sigh, realising there was nothing he could do to change her mind. "Fine, fine." He admitted defeat, throwing his hands up in surrender.
They reached the door to the medical room and Laura crouched down in front of her children.
"You three need to stay here. I won't be long. Look," She pointed to two chairs against the wall, facing the door to the room. "You sit there, and I'll be right out. Okay?"
Cooper and Lila nodded and, when seeing that's what his siblings were doing, Nathaniel did the same. After a quick hug, they all went to sit on the chairs, Nathaniel on Cooper's knees, and Laura straightened up, turning back to Clint. He pushed open the door and stepped to the side, allowing Laura to enter. She walked into the room, pausing as she caught sight of Pietro.
He was lying on his left side, his eyes shut, looking even paler than she remembered. His jaws were parted slightly, his breathing slow and faint. Forcing herself to continue, she walked across the room, stopping beside his bed and tilting her head to the side a little as she looked down at him. Clint came up beside her.
"Where did Wanda go?" Clint questioned aloud, half to himself.
"Maybe Vision was asking for her or something…" Laura murmured.
Clint frowned. "What?"
Laura smiled, letting out a small chuckle. "You know, for someone called Hawkeye, you don't see much." Her face quickly fell again as her gaze flicked back to Pietro. "Is he going to be okay?" She asked quietly.
Clint hesitated, making her heart twist.
The door was suddenly pushed open and Nathaniel fell into the room. Cooper rushed in after him, quickly picking him up and getting him back to his feet.
"Sorry." Cooper apologised as Laura ran over. "I didn't think the door was ajar. He-"
Cooper broke off as he saw Pietro, his mouth forming an 'o' before he firmly shut it again. He walked over to his father and looked up at him questioningly. Clint didn't respond to his asking gaze, looking down to find Lila on his right. She suddenly clambered up onto Pietro's bed, kneeling beside the unconscious man. Reaching out a hand, she gently tugged on the lower half of Pietro's shirt.
"Pietro?" She asked, hesitantly. When he didn't stir, lying unresponsive and motionless, she shook his shoulder and repeated his name, growing afraid. "Mister Pietro?"
"Honey, don't." Clint lifted his daughter off the bed, putting her back down on the floor beside him. "He's not going to answer."
Lila gripped her father's arm. "What's wrong with him?" She whimpered, looking up at Pietro.
"He's in a coma sweetie." Clint murmured, his voice gentle. "I doubt he can hear us."
A moment of silence followed his words, broken only by an occasional sniffle from Lila.
"Dad…" Cooper shattered the silence. He sounded reluctant to ask the question that was gripping Clint's own mind. "Is he ever going to wake up?"
Clint stiffened and took a deep, silent breath, blowing it out as a slow sigh. "I don't know Cooper." He answered truthfully. "I hope so…"
What's hope going to do now, huh? A small voice echoed in Clint's mind. Hope didn't stop this from happening; hope won't stop it getting worse.
"Why?" Lila suddenly squeaked, her voice high pitched and edged with fear. "Why is he in a coma Dad?"
Clint hesitated, wondering if he should tell her. He cast a questioning look at Laura. She opened her mouth about to reply, but something stopped her. Nathaniel was reaching up the bed, gripping the edge with his small hands. He tried to pull himself up, but fell back down onto his feet, before determinedly trying again. No one tried to stop him as he finally managed to get up onto the bed and scrambled over to Pietro. He lifted the unconscious man's right arm slightly and ducked under it, lying down and pressing his body close to Pietro's chest. He didn't stay there for long, moving up a little, with his legs still tucked between Pietro's arms. He, gently, put his hand on the side of Pietro's face.
"Petro." He almost pronounced it correctly.
Unknowingly holding his breath, Clint was half expecting Pietro to open his eyes. The young man, however, remained still, not even twitching at the toddlers touch. Silently scolding himself for thinking like a child, Clint reached forward lifting Nathaniel in his arms.
"Come on Buddy." He murmured. "Leave him be."
"But daddy. Petro not waking up." The three year old told his father, trying to struggle free to reach Pietro again.
Clint swallowed back an uncomfortable lump of grief in his throat. "I know." He held Nathaniel, stopping him from going back on the bed. "But when he does, you can see him, okay?" He tried to reassure himself as much as his son.
Please Pietro, he thought to himself, looking down at the younger man's pale face. Please wake up.