Increasingly Painful and Incredibly Close

1.0

Pietro felt humilated. The two were walking into the restaurant, and of course as avengers, they were bound to get looks. The younger had purposely stayed away from the spotlight as of late, causing media rumors to circulate. He wore one of Clint's loose hoodies, clinging to him for balance. The steps leading to the door frustrated the silver haired man, one hand gripping the railing and the other holding the archer's arm. It was slow going, his feet refusing to cooperate as he slowly dragged a foot up onto the step, Clint practically lifting him onto the step. Rinse and repeat three times.

The archer helped his love sit in a booth, sitting across from him. Pietro tiredly picked up his phone as it buzzed, eyes darkening. He sighed deeply, clicking the notification.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Clint tilted his head in confusion.

The other just swore in his native tongue, sliding the phone across the table. It didn't take the older very long at all to realize what the issue was. A covert picture, taken from a grainy cellphone camera, showed the sickly sokovian leaning into his boyfriend, knees pressed together. It was captioned 'Saw Quicksilver in the wild. He's not lookin too hot' Clint growled quietly.

"I'm so sorry. Do you need to leave?" He reached over to grab the pale hand resting on the table.

"Nyet. I am fine." Pietro looked away with a huff. "I should make a statement, yes? Put the rumors in bed, is the saying?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You don't owe anything to anyone." Bow callused fingers brushed over Pietro's cheek. "All that matters is you, sweetie."

●●●

Later, Pietro was bundled on the couch, Wanda sitting protectively by him. She played with his hair, obviously lost in thought.

"You know, you don't have to worry about me, sestra." He mumbled, fingers twitching.

"I will always worry about you, idiot. You are my brother." She spoke firmly, a tone that most people would fail to question. "You are sick, Pietro. Allow me to care, please."

"You can't spend the rest of my life worrying." My life. Wanda would live long after he succumbed to his ever worsening illness.

Wanda just hugged him tightly, sniffing a burying her tears to be shed later. She spoke softly in their first language, voice faint and cracking. Pietro stroked her hair with shaky concentration, eyes shining and wet. "I wish i could fix it. My magic, there must be a way." Her accent was thick with feeling.

"No, sister. You must not allow yourself to take that guilt. This is not in any way your fault. This is not curable." At his words, she began to cry, getting up to go cry privately.

Pietro, on instinct, used his speed to try to run after her. He managed two steps before he fell. Wanda gasped, rushing to his side as the older twin brushed her off, rising to his hands and knees and attempting to get up, only to waver and collapse again.

"Just- get Clint. I can't have you see me like this. Go." His voice was strained and tense. He shook, sniffling.

Wanda looked at him for a long moment before turning and walking toward the kitchen where Clint was making coffee.

"He's fallen. He is ok, but he won't let me help." She sounded aggravated. With a huff, she got up onto a stool, head in her hands.

Clint dropped what he was doing to go to his lover. Pietro was sprawled on the floor, sobbing. "Baby, are you hurt?" He kneeled

"I am fine. Just want to go to bed. Please." The smaller choked out, distraught.

The archer just nodded, heaving the other up to his feet, supporting his weight. Pietro stumbled a bit before looking to Clint and nodding slightly.

Slowly, Clint helped his boyfriend walk to the bedroom. He lifted the smaller up onto the bed, kissing his forehead tenderly. "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?"

"Mh, no. I am fine. No worry." He murmured, his eyes sad and glazed with tears.

Clint got up next to him, tucking him in gently. "Sweetie, talk to me. Please."

"You know this only gets worse, yes?" The sokovian spoke softly. "It is not too late for you to walk away. Don't trap yourself with me."

The older pinched the bridge of his nose. "Pietro, I've told you. I'm not leaving. I'm with you all the way, as long as you're here I'll be with you."

"Soon I won't be able to walk at all, I might not be able to speak. I won't be able to kiss you, I won't be able to hold you." Pietro sobbed. "I will just burden you."

"You listen to me. You are never, never, a burden to me. I'm with you because I want to be. I'll kiss you. I'll hold you, I'll be there for you. Through it all." The archer kissed him.

Pietro cried loudly, chest hitching. "I love you. So, so, much, Clint. Why must this happen? Two years is not enough to give my love to you." The older held him, nose buried in silver hair.

The evening faded to night, the two men holding eachother close. Pietro fell asleep in his archer's arms, Clint awake and thinking.

What is he going to do? Pietro is worsening at a terrifying rate. Just a few months from diagnosis and he could hardly walk, his words slurring. Just moving from the bed to the couch was exhausting to him. He didn't know what to do, the younger would barely accept any help.

A soft snore brought him back to the present. He just breathed, looking at his lovers beautiful face, his messy hair, his perfect lips. He soaked it in, breathing deeply and trying to ingrain every feature, every small detail. He made a point to never forget any part of his love, inhaling his soft sandalwood scent.