"How is he?"
Pietro had come up to the medical room in stark towers to see Clint. Nat was just coming out of the room; she closed the door behind her. When she saw Pietro her mouth twitched in a sad smile but her expression quickly changed to a mixture of sadness and worry, the same expression had been on her face since Clint had fallen unconscious on the jet. Clint had been unconscious in the medical room for three days. The others had been unusually quiet since he had obtained his injury. Natasha had not trained, Thor had left his hammer on the table, untouched, and when Tony swore at one of his 'distractions' Steve had not said a word.
Nat shook her head and sighed. "He's not in a good way."
Pietro looked at Nat and his heart twisted with sadness as he saw the hopelessness in her eyes. He wanted to comfort her, maybe a hug would help, but he wasn't sure how the fiery assassin would react. He merely placed a hand gently on her shoulder, hoping this would help in some way.
"Am I allowed to see him?" He asked.
"The doctors aren't in there… so, as long as you don't disturb him, you're allowed in." She explained, her voice tired, as if she hadn't slept for days.
'Perhaps she hasn't' Pietro thought, worriedly, as he pushed open the door.
Clint was lying in a bed on the far side of the room, an oxygen mask over his mouth. His shirt was hung over a chair beside his bed. Pietro sat down on the chair to Clint's left. His heart flew to his throat as he looked at him. His face was pale, white, covered in scratches and every rib showed. A bandage had been wrapped around his torso, covering the place where the bullet had gone in. One hand was laid over his chest, the other at his left side. His eyes were closed and his mouth partly open as he struggled for air. Every ragged breath made Pietro's stomach clench with sympathy.
"Clint..." His voice sounded hoarse and he cleared his throat. "Clint it's me." Pietro paused. He knew Clint couldn't hear him but a part of him still felt he needed to talk to him. "I'm sorry. Clint. I should have been there for you. I could have got you out the way in time..." His voice broke and he swallowed, inhaled deeply and began to speak again. He talked slowly, pausing in places as if he couldn't find any words to say. "I.. I'll do my best to protect you next time.. I promise.. I..." His voice trailed off and he swallowed again, opened his mouth, leaning forward slightly to say something, before closing it again and slumping back in his chair. He sat there for a while, not thinking about anything in particular. After a few minutes of silence he mumbled. "Please get better Clint. I… We… need your strength."
He looked at Clint's face, searching for any sign that he had heard. There was none. The archer's sleeping face was as expressionless as ever. Pietro moved his hand over to Clint and rested it gently on his left hand. He left it there for a brief second before withdrawing it, taking a deep breath and wiping his soaked eyes with his palm. He pushed himself out of the chair and walked towards the door, casting one last glance at Clint over his shoulder, before he opened the door and walked out of the room.