Chapter 36: Secret's Out

Pietro woke up at home in his bed. He was lying on his side, propped up with pillows, presumably to keep him from asphyxiating if he vomited in his sleep. His head felt like it had been beaten repeatedly and he wasn't entirely sure what had happened or how he had gotten home. Slowly, he sat up and glanced around. Wanda was sitting on the edge of his bed and the other Avengers were scattered around the room, clearly all waiting for him to wake up.

"How do you feel?" Wanda asked gently.

"Like shit," Pietro replied. "How long was I asleep?"
"About two hours," Sam replied, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. "Jesus, it's a good thing we found you when we did."

Pietro frowned, trying to remember. Beer, smoke, sweat. His throat burning. A hand pulling roughly at his hair.

"Why were you even at that place to begin with?" Wanda asked.

The bar. Oh God, the bar. And suddenly the memories flooded back and as they did, Pietro realized what had happened. They had drugged him, they must have slipped something in his drink when he wasn't looking... and as everything returned to him full-force, so did the memory of what had happened in the alley, the man looming over him, softly coaxing words breathed into his ear, the ghost of a hand lingering...

"Pietro?" said Wanda, sounding concerned.

She reached her hand out toward him and and he recoiled, curling his knees up to his chest.

"Don't touch me," he said, harsher than he meant to; he immediately felt guilty for it. "Sorry..."

Wanda lowered her hand sadly. She clearly wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but Pietro couldn't let her. Not in that way. Not now.

"How did you find me?" he asked, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

"We knew you were probably off doing something reckless again, so we went to the places we thought you'd be most likely to go," said Bucky. "Which leads us back to Wanda's question. Why the hell were you at that shit hole?"

"You already answered that question. I was doing something reckless again," Pietro said bitterly.

"Yeah, and we still don't know why you've had this sudden upswing in death-defying idiocy," said Tony. "You were doing so good for a while there. What the hell happened?"

"The cabin fire. That's what happened. And almost getting hit by a car after that," said Pietro.

"What?"

"I saw Clint in the fire. And then I saw him again, right before I saw the car. I see him every time I'm in danger."

"So that's why you tried to walk across a highway? And all that other shit?" said Rhodey in disbelief.

"You purposely risked your life so you could see Clint again?" said Steve. "We have photographs, you know. You don't have to try and get yourself killed to see him."

"It's not the same," said Pietro. "The hallucinations... it's like he's there. He's next to me, he can see me. Photographs are just ink and paper. Just another reminder that he's gone."

"That's just it, Pietro. He is gone," said Steve. "I get that it's hard for you, that it hurts. You watched him die, you feel guilty, I know that. But you can't keep grieving him forever. You've gotta let him go."

"I can't do that," Pietro said desperately.

"Why not?"

"Because I love him!"

He hadn't meant to say it. It had just fallen from his lips, no hesitation, no thought. The room had fallen into absolute silence, everyone staring at him in shock.

"There. I said it," he said at last. "Now you know. My deepest, darkest secret. The one thing that no one on this earth knew except me."

He looked down, glaring bitterly at his trembling hands for betraying everything he was feeling.

"I knew," said Natasha; she sounded almost confused. "I always knew, I just didn't realize what it was until now. There was something in the way you looked at him... I noticed it sometimes, a little light in your eyes that would only shine when you were looking at Clint..."

She trailed off and Pietro looked at her. There were tears in her eyes, but he couldn't tell if they were for Clint or for him.

"I still love him too, you know," she continued. "I probably will until the day I die. But Steve is right. You can't grieve forever. You have to move on."

"I don't know how," said Pietro. "I don't even know who I am anymore without this. Loving Clint is the only good thing I know I have left in me. If I take that away, what have I got? There's no good left."

"I never said you had to stop loving him," said Natasha. "And as for the good you've got left, there's a lot more than you think. You've been trapped in your own head for too long, Pietro. Look around you. You've got us. Your sister. Isn't that enough good for you?"

"I'm sorry," said Pietro quietly. "You're right, I have been stuck in my own head too long. The trouble is, I don't know how to get out. Not without help."

"Then we'll help."

"You know, you're taking this very well, considering it's your boyfriend I just confessed my undying love for," Pietro said with a feeble attempt at a smile.

"I guess you could say it's because... I can relate," said Natasha. "You saw something in Clint that made you love him. So did I."

The next morning, Pietro sat on the curb outside Stark Mansion, watching cars go by. He's been sitting there for a while when Steve came and sat beside him, deliberately leaving several inches of space between them; apparently he remembered Pietro's outburst from last night. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes after he sat down. Then finally, Steve turned to look at him.

"I thought you should know... I reported that couple to the cops," he said. "Apparently you weren't their only victim. The cops have been trying to catch them for a while. I guess they've been lurking around that bar, preying on underage patrons..."

"Thanks," said Pietro.

"I'm sorry about how we all acted last night," Steve said. "None of us handled that very well. At all. Harassing you for being at that place, practically ignoring what you'd just gone through..."

"It's fine," Pietro said quickly. "You were upset, you just wanted answers."

"But what we should have been focused on was helping you. You'd just been drugged and molested. And we just ignored all that. You needed us to help you through that and instead we decided to lecture you. There's nothing fine about that. We're your friends. We should have supported you."

"Yeah, you should have. But I'm gonna forgive you because you're right, I do need help," said Pietro. "I'm exhausted, Steve. I'm miserable. And I'm tired of trying to cope by myself."