A sharp hand struck the side of Pietro's face, leaving his cheek stinging. He instinctively raised a hand to touch his skin, eyes narrowed in pain.

"I told you to keep quiet."

Pietro looked up, meeting agent Dyson's menacing glare levelly. "I haven't said anything." He murmured, briefly noting how dull his voice had become since Zane had been assigned to his mentoring duties. "I haven't told anyone anything."

"Because you know they wouldn't believe you." Zaine hissed, taking a step closer to Pietro, who backed off slightly, wincing a little as if he could already feel Dyson hitting him. "No one would listen to a single word… You really are extraordinarily insignificant."

Swallowing uncomfortably at the truth in his words, Pietro looked to the side, as if maybe Zaine wouldn't be able to detect how much his words hurt if he wasn't looking at him. Zaine reached a hand up to gently touch the side of Pietro's jaw, turning his head to force the young man to make eye contact.

"What are you Pietro?" He asked softly.

Pietro turned his head away from his mentor's fingers. "I am an avenger."

Zaine's expression contorted into rage and his hand flew to Pietro cheek. He gripped Pietro's jaw, roughly forcing his head up, hissing the words against the young man's face.

"Pietro… What are you?"

Pietro didn't reply, stubbornly refusing to meet his mentor's eyes. Zaine tightened his grip on the kid's jaw, a clear warning that Pietro once again refused to answer. A clenched fist slammed against his chest, the force causing him to stagger back a pace before Zaine landed another punch to his face, smacking against the side of his jaw.

Pietro stumbled down to the ground, as blood welled in his mouth, sliding over his lips and dripping down his chin. Zaine pinned him again the wall, his forearm to Pietro's throat. The blood Pietro had tried to swallow seemed to only succeed on sticking his airway shut, the increasing pressure of Dyson's forearm making the task of breathing all but impossible. Gripping his hands to Zaine's arm, Pietro tried to escape his mentor's grip but he only pressed harder, so Pietro quickly fell still, struggling to breathe as Dyson leaned forward, his menacing stare burning against Pietro's sky blue eyes.

"What are you?"

Pietro gulped in a shaky breath, half drowning on the blood in his throat. But he managed to speak, managed to push a single breathless word past his bloodstained lips. "Insignificant..."

Zaine released him and Pietro drew in a heaving breath, falling to his side as he coughed and spluttered, blooding dribbling from between his lips. As he choked the crimson liquid into the floor, he heard Zaine's voice again, half growling into his ear.

"Well done… You're learning."

Spitting blood onto the floor, Pietro looked up at his mentor, a deep loathing glinting in his eyes. Zaine took a menacing step forward and Pietro scrambled back, certain his fear showed as Dyson stopped, giving a cruel smile.

"You're pathetic." He muttered, turning and striding towards the door. "We'll continue this tomorrow Maximoff. You'd better go and get some rest… You're gonna need it."

The door slammed shut behind him and Pietro, now that he was alone, allowed himself to sink to the floor, lying in a foetal position up against the wall. His throat hurt, his face hurt, his chest… He felt like he was about to be sick, his stomach churning uncomfortably. Swallowing so much blood can't have been good and now he was feeling the effects of it even more.

Leaping up suddenly, he put on a sprint, racing to the nearest bathroom in a flash of blue. He immediately gripped the edges of the sink, chest heaving violently as he vomited a coppery-tasting mixture from his mouth. Fingers clenching against the cold surface, he used the sink to support himself as he retched and choked.

The sound of heavy footsteps was barely registered but the strong hand resting on his shoulder was a small comfort.

"You are ill and weary young warrior." A deep, noble voice murmured. "You must rest soon… Your strength is… wasted…"

Pietro shakily lifted his head, slowly opening his eyes to see the kind face of Thor gazing down at him. The sight he saw turning his head back had him choking out another mouthful of metallic tinted liquid.

It was blood.

Of course it had to be blood.

The crimson liquid completely covered the white bowl, slipping down the sides of the sink to drip down the drain. The smell carried hints of salt and rust, that factor alone making Pietro gag. And then there was the mere feeling of the blood ejecting from his mouth, the taste of it coating his tongue. It was horrible.

Pietro spat the last of the blood from his mouth, feeling the warm liquid had crept down his jaw to drip against his neck. He didn't want to think about the state he was in, so he didn't face his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He still gripped the edges of the white bowl, not trusting his legs to hold him up.

"Pietro..." Thor murmured quietly, repositioning his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Come, you need medical attention."

Pietro just shook his head, refusing the offer. "No..." He rasped breathlessly, hating himself for sounding so weak. "No, I-I'm okay... I don't... don't want... to..." Voice trailing off, Pietro's legs trembled and gave in, causing him to collapse against Thor's chest.

The Asgardian caught himself skilfully, his movements uncharacteristically gentle as he eased Pietro to the ground, cradling the kid in his arms. "You are not okay young one. You have a sickness." He rested his hand to the side of Pietro's face, moving up to feel his head. "Your forehead is burning. A fever has already taken hold."

Pietro blinked hard, forcing his eyes to focus. "I'm not going to the doctors." He insisted quietly, struggling to sit up. "Please, I don't want to see them… It's nothing, people just get sick sometimes…"

"There is more to this Pietro." Thor murmured, his eyes scanning Pietro face carefully. He shook his head and helped Pietro to sit up. "But if you do not want medicine, I cannot make you have it." He got to his feet and, to Pietro's surprise, held a hand out to him. "But I am taking you to your room. You need rest and you shall not train tomorrow."

Pietro held his gaze for a moment, inspecting the serious nature of his eyes before giving a slight nod. He took Thor's hand, doing his best not to wince as the Asgardian helped him to his feet. Thor looked at him sceptically, and Pietro lifted his head, the slightest hint of defiance in his expression, as if daring Thor to comment on his worn-out appearance.

But Thor simply inclined his head to the side. "Come… Can you walk?"

Truthfully, Pietro wasn't exactly sure, but, regardless, he nodded. He wouldn't show any further signs of weakness, not if he could help it.

Thor led the way out of the room, striding down the corridor and making a left. Following him, Pietro did his best not to limp, not to falter as he walked behind Thor for what seemed like far too many steps. Reaching his room, Pietro twisted the handle, opening the door, stepping and turning back to Thor, who stood in the doorway.

"Thank you for bringing me back." He muttered, then lowered his gaze. "Would you mind… would you mind not telling anyone about this? I'd prefer to keep it between us."

Thor frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. "Is there a reason?"

Pietro shook his head a little. "I just don't want people to worry… Please. Don't tell anyone, not Zaine, not Wanda, and certainly not Clint."

Eyes narrowing in confusion, Thor took a moment to consider before giving a small nod, seeming to accept his words. "Okay… But if I do not tell anyone, you must promise me something too." Pietro inclined his head, offering the Asgardian to name his conditions. "You must not train tomorrow, you must rest now and you must give me the key to your room."

Pietro looked at him curiously, but handed over the key anyway, pressing it to Thor's large, outstretched hand. "Why?"

"Because I will return in two hours." Thor murmured deeply, casting a serious look back over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "And if you are not asleep, or at least trying to sleep, I will tell Clint what happened… I will tell Clint and I will get him to take you to the doctors himself." He blinked down at the young man, moving a hand to rest against his shoulder. "Is that fair?"

Pietro held his stare for a moment, finding compassion and kindness in his otherwise serious eyes. A slight sigh was exhaled from his lips and he lowered his gaze, nodding. "Yes... That's fair… Thor!" He called after the Asgardian as he began to walk away. "Thank you."


Thor twisted the key into the lock, turning the handle and slowly, silently pushing open the door. He peered in, a small smile curving his lips at the scene in the room.

Pietro was asleep.

It was such a rare sight; Thor wasn't sure he'd ever seen the young man sitting, let alone sleeping. He had only meant to take a glance, yet he wanted to be certain, so Thor quietly stepped into the room, lightly shutting the door behind him.

Pietro lay sprawled on his back in his double bed, one arm bent up so his hand rested beside his head on the pillow, the other was flung out to the side, visible to Thor as the duvet was pulled down to his chest. Moving closer, Thor could hear the young man was whimpering softly, twitching and shifting restlessly as if he was suffering from a particularly bad nightmare.

Thor halted beside Pietro's bed, looking down at him with a concerned frown. Reaching down, he gently lay his hand to Pietro's forehead. Heat radiated from his pale skin. Pietro turned his head to face away from the Asgardian, his fingers clenching, grasping the soft pillow as his face twitched a little.

The way his head was angled now meant Thor could see them. He could see the scars slashed against the side of Pietro's neck. And suddenly he was aware of all of them, all the dark crimson, jagged marks littering Pietro's bare chest. Bruises had faded through in some places, the worst ones around his ribs and left collarbone, which looked fractured, or maybe even broken.

Pietro gave a quiet, indecipherable murmur, turning onto his side so he faced Thor. If he opened his eyes now… Thor was curious to see how he would react. But he didn't want to wake him, and he knew he shouldn't stay for long.

Casting a final glance back at Pietro, Thor made his way out of the room, sliding the key under the door when he had locked it. It felt wrong turning away. Walking away from Pietro when he was obviously having a rough time didn't appeal to Thor at all. But he had made a promise. He swore he wouldn't tell anyone, he swore he'd just check up on him to see if Pietro had kept his side of the deal. And he had.

Still, he wished he didn't have to keep what had happened to himself. Pietro obviously needed help… But who could give it to him?