Increasingly Painful and Incredibly Close

7.5

Clint insisted Pietro still go out, experience the world while he could. Sure, there would always be stares and fan encounters, but the benefit outwayed the harm. He'd taken his lover to the park, stopping to pick flowers to put into the silver hair and using the attendant controls when Pietro grew too fatigued to use the joystick.

"Is that- oh my god!"

The older sighed. "I'll take care of this, honey. Don't worry."

"No," his voice was weak, slurring severely. "Is okay."

Two tween girls ran up, talking over eachother. The taller of the two, a redhead wearing a long blue dress, spoke first. "Hi! Sorry, we're just big fans. We just wanted to say-"

"We're sorry. To hear about everything." The shorter one, a kid with short black hair and a black hoodie, cut the other off.

Pietro smiled weakly. Trying his hardest to enunciate,  he spoke. "Is okay... Nikto ne vinovat."

"He says it's no one's fault. Russian can be easier, these days." The older put a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, translating.

The kids smiled, sadness in their eyes. "Anyway. Hope we didn't ruin y'all's date. Thank you for talking to us."

"Hey, it's no problem. Fangirls are easier than reporters, y'know? You guys want an autograph or somethin'?" Clint tried to embody the energy Pietro used to carry about fans. He loved the opportunity to make someone's day.

The two lit up, one taking out a comic and the other holding out her backpack. "Alright, got mine signed, you wanna try honey?"

Pietro barely lifted a shaking hand, Clint placing the sharpie in his hand, supporting his movements as the younger managed a shakey line that trailed off the page. "Best," he mumbled. "I can."

"That's alright, Piet. Wanna try the backpack or want me to sign for you?" The archer spoke softly.

The sick man went to speak, a rattling cough before his words. "You. 'M tired"

"You got it, babe." Clint jotted down his rendition of his lover's signature. "Here y'all go," he handed the items back. "I gotta get him home. You guys have a good day."

They were out of there before the kids could reply, Clint rushing Pietro home. He really didn't want his lover out and about when he felt so awful.

●●●

Kate lounged on the bed with Pietro, holding his hand as Clint suctioned him. Tears streamed down the younger man's face as he coughed and wheezed. The young archer was trying her best to distract him, cracking jokes and telling stories. Once finished, the older wiped the other's face, soothing him.

He calmed down eventually, looking at his lover. "Detka, shower. Eat."

"Honey, I-" Kate began laughing as her mentor spoke. "What, Katie?"

"You really gonna argue with the dying guy?" She giggled and Pietro smiled.

He groaned, kissing his lover's temple. "Fine! Fine."

As he walked away he mumbled something about 'two against one'  as he walked out. Kate sprung up, sitting by him excitedly. She waited till her mentor's footsteps faded considerably. "So, have you given it anymore thought?"

"I have..." the ventilator hissed as it gave him another breath. "If I do this," another pause. "Will need your help."

She clapped excitedly. "Yes! What're you thinking?"

The two plotted for nearly half an hour before a knock at the door. The door then opened, Wanda entering and taking in the scene. Her brother laid in a mess of pillows, the young archer kneeling by him and braiding the flowers from earlier into his hair. He smiled loosely despite the bags under his eyes, speaking slowly to the other who patiently listened. She was happy to see her brother in such spirits, his happiness was a rare commodity these days. "Hey, Piet."

"Wanda!" His voice was raspy and slurred but it was magic to her ears. He weakly patted his hand against the bed where it lay, clearly motioning to the younger twin to come sit.

Kate buzzed excitedly as Wanda approached. "Oh my god, can I tell her?"

"Da." He murmured.

She nearly shrieked. "Pietro's gonna propose! And I get to help!"

Wanda got misty eyed at that, sniffling. She grasped his hand, holding it to her chest. "Oh, brother. That's wonderful. Do you know how yet?"

Kate nodded, clasping her hands together. She looked to him thoughtfully. "Do you want me to tell her the plan? I know talking that much is hard."

He gave an affirmative noise, giving a half smile as the younger woman divulged the details.

In another part of the tower, Natasha held Clint.

He'd been crying for a while, cooped up in one of his nests when she'd found him.

"Listen, I know this is getting scary. I know it's getting really real now. But you have to tell yourself to enjoy the small things, alright? You've gotta make memories while you still can, Clint. You've gotta hold onto the good, okay?" She rubbed his back as he shuddered through tears, breaths coming fast and shallow.

He sobbed through his reply. "There's hardly any good left, Nat! He can barely speak and he's in so much pain. I can't breathe. Oh god, I can't breathe!"

Natasha held him tightly, coaxing him through breathing exercises. "Shh, shh. There is good. I know you know it. Think about it, picture it. His laugh even when your joke isn't that funny. His sense of humor. His smile, even now. The way he stays for you. He wants more time with you. The time has come where he's here on purpose. If there wasn't good he wouldn't choose to stick around."

"I-" he sniffed, standing. "I need to go be with him."

"I know. Just remember the good, okay? And know the good isn't over yet." She spoke quietly. "Savor it."

Clint dusted himself off, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of a jacket that was once Pietro's that he had since made his own. He climbed out of his hidey hole and began the trek back to their bedroom.