The title for chapter eleven is from "Just Give Me A Reason" by P!nk featuring Nate Ruess

Chapter 11: still written in the scars on our hearts

Pietro walked into the living room where the rest of the Avengers had gathered to see off the team Steve had assembled for their mission. Besides Pietro and Steve, the others that had been asked to come were Natasha, Wanda, and Sam. It was a small team, but they didn't really need more than the five of them. Their bags were packed, and they had a small arsenal of weapons that they really hoped they wouldn't have to use. All they needed now was the information Maria and Tony had gathered for them.

"Here's the list of agents in that Hydra unit," said Tony, handing Steve a tablet. "I've calculated it out in what seems like the most likely order for Barton to go after them, based on location mostly. I've also got this thing set up to recalculate in case of location changes or if Barton kills another one, so you can... oh good, look, you get a demonstration."

Pietro glanced over Steve's shoulder as the location of the first agent on the list switched from "Albany, NY" to "Terminated".

"Excellent," he said sarcastically.

"Well, at least we know it works," said Sam.

"That bright side isn't very bright," Steve said.

They decided to head Clint off at the location of his next possible target, figuring that he would be long gone by the time they got to Albany. Tony's list said that the agent was in a small town in Maine, so they all piled into the car and started driving north. Sam took the wheel with Steve riding shotgun, leaving Pietro, Wanda, and Natasha in the back seat. Wanda had taken the middle seat so she could sit next to her brother. She held his hand, gently stroking her thumb across his. Pietro was glad of this comforting gesture, but still he felt distant and distracted, just resting his forehead against the cold window and watching the scenery flash by.

They drove in silence and it wasn't until they were about two hours out from the town that Steve suddenly spoke.

"Turn around."

"What?" said Sam. "We're practically there."

"Yeah, well, we're too late," said Steve. "The guy's dead."

Sam slammed on the brakes and pulled over.

"How the hell did Clint get there before us?" Natasha said.

"Head start, I guess," said Steve.

"Add to that the fuel of a vengeful rage and you've got one unstoppable man," said Sam.

"So where to next?" Wanda asked.

Steve looked down at the tablet.

"Uhh... Boston."

"Shit... we're never gonna catch up to him," said Pietro.

"We'll find him," said Wanda. "Clint's still in Maine, we've got the head start this time."

"God dammit," Steve said frustratedly. "He beat us again."

They had just reached Boston. It was nearly three in the morning and everyone was exhausted, and Steve's announcement wasn't doing anything to boost morale.

"How the hell is he doing it?" Pietro said.

"I have no idea, but I have a feeling we're gonna be turning around a lot," said Sam, pulling over once again.

"Speaking of which, why don't you boys come back here and get some rest," Natasha suggested. "I'll drive, Wanda can navigate and keep track of the hit list."

"I am so glad you offered," said Sam.

They all got out and switched places. It was a lot more crowded in the back seat with three tall, muscular men squeezed together, but having the considerably shorter girls in the front meant more leg room, which Pietro definitely appreciated. Natasha restarted the car and turned to Wanda.

"So, where's he headed next?"

"Pennsylvania."

Natasha put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. They all fell silent again, and pretty soon, Pietro, Steve, and Sam were all fast asleep, using each other's shoulders as pillows and snoring quietly.

Pietro woke up just as they were passing a sign that read "Welcome to Ohio". He frowned, looking back at the other side of the sign as though expecting to find another sign that said "Just kidding, wrong state". He turned to the front again; Natasha was still driving and Wanda was flipping through the radio stations.

"I thought we were going to Pennsylvania," he said.

"Well there's one of the sleeping beauties," said Natasha.

"He beat us again," Wanda explained, scowling at the stubbornly staticky radio.

"So now he's going to Ohio?" said Pietro.

"Not the most inspired hiding place for a Hydra agent, I know," said Natasha. "Still, it could be North Dakota. That would be much worse."

"What?"

"Right, sorry, you two haven't experienced the joys of America's most boring states."

"Maybe we should skip this one," Pietro suggested. "Try the next town on the list. Since he's always just ahead of us, maybe we can get just ahead of him."

"Are you sure?" Wanda asked.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, apart from this tiny town we're headed to that neither of us can even pronounce, there's only one place left on the list," said Natasha. "And I don't think you'll wanna go anywhere near the guy who's hiding there."

"Why not?"

"Because he's the head of the unit," said Natasha. "He was the one in charge of all the shit they did to you."

Pietro felt nauseous just at the mention of that man. That was the face burned into his mind more strongly than all the rest. But he had to find Clint.

"Do it," he said quietly. "Skip Ohio. I just want to get there before Clint does."

"He's killed the one in Ohio," Wanda announced.

They were well on their way to Chicago now, where the final target was hiding.

"Damn..." Pietro muttered.

"Looks like it's a race to the finish line now," said Steve with a sigh. "I'll drive the rest of the way, Nat. You get some sleep."

At long last, they pulled up outside the cheap motel they had traced the last agent to.

"Well, good news, he's not dead yet," said Sam.

"What's the bad news?" Pietro asked.

"I'm hoping there isn't any."

They armed themselves and stepped out into the cold night air, making their way to the agent's hotel room.

"I still can't believe we're saving a Hydra agent's ass," said Steve.

"I just keep telling myself we're saving Clint," said Natasha. "Which is what we're really doing. I mean, I want the bastard dead too, but I'd rather my best friend didn't become a serial killer."

They reached the hotel room door and Wanda lifted her hands to break it open, but paused, frowning.

"The door's already been kicked in."

"And there's the bad news," said Sam.

"Shit..." Natasha muttered.

"Well, let's do this before we're too late again," said Pietro.

He stepped forward and kicked the door open. The Hydra agent lay on the ground, beaten and bloody but still alive, and standing over him with his back to the door was a hooded figure, his identity given away by the quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder.

"Clint, stop!" Natasha cried.

Clint turned around. He was unshaven and wore a sloppily made black mask, but it was undoubtedly him; it wasn't exactly the best of disguises. But Pietro wasn't focused on Clint, as he'd expected to be. His eyes were fixed on the man at Clint's feet.

"Clint, you can't keep doing this," said Natasha.

"I have to! I have to finish the job! Do you have any idea what this bastard did?" Clint argued.

"Yeah, I've got a pretty good idea," said Natasha. "But that doesn't justify you becoming a murderer."

Pietro barely heard them fighting. Suddenly, he burst into action. He snatched the gun from Natasha's hand and was standing over the Hydra agent before anyone could react. Clint and Natasha went silent and Pietro could tell that all of them were staring at him and the gun in his hand, scared of what he might do. The man at his feet chuckled, then coughed painfully, clutching his broken ribs.

"Ah, look," he sneered. "The prodigal son returns."

"If you think that's what this is, then you've definitely underestimated me," said Pietro, his voice dangerously quiet. "Big mistake."

He lifted the gun and aimed it at the man's forehead, right between his eyes. Then he pulled the trigger, not just once, but over and over until he had buried every single bullet in the man's skull. He lowered his arm and let the gun fall from his hand, then turned around to face Clint. He stepped toward him, bridging the gap between them, and lowered Clint's hood, then slipped the mask off. Clint was staring at him in shocked disbelief, his eyes full of tears.

"I'm so sorry," Pietro whispered. "For everything."

"No, I should be sorry," said Clint. "For leaving when you still needed me."

"I understand why you did it. And... well... thank you," said Pietro.

"Even if you can't love me, Pietro, I will keep loving you. Always."

"But I do love you, Clint. Nothing those bastards did to me can stop that. I didn't mean those things I said. I love you," Pietro said. "And I need you. I can't get through this on my own."

"And you won't have to," said Clint. "I'm not ever gonna leave you like that again. I promise."

Then he pulled Pietro into his arms. Pietro clung to Clint like a life line, feeling safer and more secure in his embrace than he had in weeks. After several long moments, he pulled away just enough to kiss him, his hands still clutching desperately to Clint's bloodstained hoodie.

"Come on," Pietro said when at last they broke apart. "Let's go home."