Increasingly Painful and Incredibly Close

19.5

It was touch and go for days, Pietro drifting in and out of consciousness.

He opened his eyes to Kate braiding his hair, slurring weakly as his head was cocked in a way he couldn't see his eye-gaze. The young archer paused before tilting his head so he could type. "Are you hurting?"

"Clint." She could see how weak he was by the slow tracing of the cursor across the screen.

"I made him and Wanda go get something to eat. Told him you'd be pestering him about his old bones needing nutrition if you could." Kate continued braiding.

"Yes. How long sleeping?" A choked noise came from his throat.

The young woman rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "A few days. You were in and out but really confused and upset, the fever was really high so the docs sedated you."

"Hurts bad. Pain pump?" His eyes were glazed, eyelids heavy. Kate was doing something, what was she doing again? "Can't think."

Her breath shuddered softly. "Yeah, lemme hit the button," she reached over and pressed the machine. "Clint put you on palliative care. It's not hospice, don't freak out, it's just to control your pain better and give you some better quality of life."

"Dying now?" Another barely audible moan of pain.

He heard a wet, shaking gasp from where Kate sat, out of his field of vision. "Not now. We're really trying to not to let that happen. Not like this, not until you're ready."

"Not ready. But so tired. Hurts so much." Pietro's eyes were barely open, and he was deathly pale. "Kate. Mouth is dry. Please."

She pushed the nurse's station button attached to the bed remote and it beeped and played soft static. "Nurses station, this is Nurse Claire. How can I help you?"

"Hey, it's Kate. Is Pietro allowed ice chips or something?" She spoke as though she was familiar with the nurse.

Brief static before the response. "No, but we've got a few alternatives. I'll be by in a sec anyway now that he's up so I can do some exams."

No static this time, just silence other than the machines. Kate had finished braiding his hair and was now just rubbing his arm soothingly. "Don't keep yourself awake on my account, Piet."

"Stay awake. See Clint and Wanda." Behind his dazed expression there was determination set in his eyes.

His eyes threatened to close over the next few minutes, he calibrated his screen again to try to keep himself awake. Eventually the door opened, a lady in scrubs entering.

"Hi, Mr. Maximoff. I'm Nurse Claire. It's nice to properly meet you." She grinned earnestly.

"Pietro. Nice to meet you." It took far longer than usual for him to type. His eyes struggled to track her as she approached him from the opposite side as Kate. She checked IV bags and vital signs, charting.

The nurse checked pulses on his hands and feet. "You're looking better this evening. Is it okay if I ask you a few cognitive questions for my chart?"

"Go ahead. Been through worse interrogations." His personality finally showed through the layers of illness.

"Alright, can you tell me what year it is?" She stood patiently and waited for him to type the answer.

Pietro struggled to focus. "2024. Sorry I'm slow typing. Hard to concentrate."

"Okay, that's probably the sedation combined with the fever and illness. I'll monitor that though. Do you know what month we're in?"

"April. What are my odds?" Kate froze at that, quickly hiding her face.

Claire sighed. "To be honest, the state that you're in now would've killed most patients with your disease by now. But, you're still here, and that shows promise. While I wouldn't say your chances are fantastic, I'm cautiously optimistic."

"I'm so fucking tired. When can I go home?" His eyes were bleary as he tried so hard to stay awake. They tried to roll up under his eyelids but he refused to let them, instead trying to focus his vision on the nurse.

"Once we get you stabalized and you're able to maintain your oxygen levels, we can transfer you back to the Avengers medical wing. But for right now? You need your rest to fight this. The last few days have been really rough on your body." She looked him in the eyes. "Now, because you've lost the ability to swallow, I can't give you ice chips. But, I can give Kate a cup of water or juice and an oral sponge to help wet your mouth. Does that sound okay?"

"That sucks. Not even thickener?" Pietro tried not to cry at what had become of him.

The nurse placed a hand on his curled and thin one. "Your doctors have agreed that it's not safe anymore with your aspiration. I'm sorry, Pietro."

He grew aware of Kate standing in the corner, silently sobbing into her hands. It took several minutes for him to type. "Kate. It's fine. I'll try sponge."

"Piet, I'm fine. Stop worrying, it's okay." She sniffled, wiping her face. With a deep breath, she turned back to him, resolve nearly breaking immediately.

He was so pale, eyelids fluttering as he struggled to stay awake. He was sweating, hair matting despite the care she'd been putting into it. Tubes and wires supported nearly every bodily function now. All this, and he was still worried about others.

The nurse excused herself, and before Kate could take her spot by his bedside again, the door opened.

"Oh my god, Pietro. You're awake!" Clint raced to his husband's side. He held his face and pressed his lips against the younger's. Pietro mumbled a groan, eyes closing and then struggling to open again.

"Kate. Go take break." His eyes were growing hazy, his energy depleting.

She nodded, stopping to lightly squeeze his shoulder before leaving. He tried to stifle a whimper, his eyes closing. Kate muffled a harsh cry, leaving, and the silver haired man drifted back into unconsciousness.