"Thank you."
Clint has been staring at Pietro's body for the past hour. Most of the people on the lifeboat are asleep, or too busy with each other to notice the woozy Avenger. Had he been Cap or Thor, he'd probably have been accosted several times by now, but Clint is still fairly under the radar. He generally likes it that way, at least after missions like this. It means he can let his less than superhuman body heal a bit.
It means he can quietly mourn for the little shit who gave his life for him.
"I don't know why I'm talking to you, it's not like you can hear me, but thank you. Not for me, but for that kid. Costel. He's going to get to grow up, and live his life and that's all because of you. Of course, his favourite Avenger will be Hulk or Iron Man, because nobody remembers Hawkeye or... I dunno,"
He looks over Pietro, tries to think of some ridiculous nickname for him. White hair, silver shirt, really fast. "... Quicksilver?"
He smiles, "Quicksilver. But fuck, kid, why'd you save me? You have your whole damn life ahead of you. I'm played out."
He finds himself thinking of his kids, of Laura, he should be relieved he's alive to see them again, but all he can think about is how Pietro isn't. How his sister must feel like she's completely alone in the world right now.
And Clint is going to fix that, he doesn't know how, but he's going to. The Vision seems to be doing a good job of looking after Wanda at the moment, someone who is as out of place as she is. It makes sense, Clint supposes.
Clint is glad Wanda isn't here right now, isn't by Pietro's side, because he doesn't know how he can face her after he got her brother killed.
"I'm sorry, Pietro." Clint says, "You deserved better."
He leans down and squeezes Pietro's shoulder.
And it's warm.
It's almost... alive.
Clint pushes himself up with some effort and reaches for Pietro's pulse. It's faint, but there's a pulse there. A crazy thought goes through Clint's brain, if Pietro has an enhanced metabolism...
He drops to his knees on the floor, and pushes Pietro's grey shirt up over his chest, looks over where the bullet wounds are. They're still there, but they're a lot smaller than they used to be. They're shrinking, they're healing.
"You... you..."
Pietro's trying to talk and Clint is trying not to get his hopes up too much, but fuck, if this kid is alive, he will prostrate himself in front of whichever deity brought him back.
"Yeah, kid, it's me."
Pietro smiles, just a little. It's pained but it's there and Clint has never seen anything so brilliant. He's suddenly aware of his hand pressed against the warm, naked flesh of Pietro's chest, and okay, maybe this is part of the reason he's hurting so much. There'll be time for the crush panic later.
Pietro coughs and starts to talk again, his voice sounding stronger. Clint leans in closer to listen to him.
"You didn't see this coming?"