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Pietro's pretty sure that the man currently trussed securely in the trunk of his car is an Avenger.
Not one of the cool ones, he's pretty sure it's the one with the bow and arrow, Hawkguy or whatever he's called, but it's getting harder and harder to convince himself that the people he's working for are the good guys.
He'd had his suspicions when they locked him in a cell, when they separated him from his sister, when they strapped him down to a metal gurney and....well, Pietro had always been a bit slow on the uptake. Not that anyone could ever accuse of him being slow these days.
The truth was that Pietro didn't want to see it. He wanted, so desperately, for the promises to be real. For things to work out in their favour, just once. The cells were for their protection, the separation was necessary, the things that they did in that cold, sterile room were for the greater good. No pain, no gain. You can't make an omelette without cracking some eggs. All the platitudes that he's been whispering to himself for months lie tattered on the side of the road as he sits in his car, on an abandoned dirt road, listening to the muffled shouts of one of the real good guys.
Fuck.
He runs his hands through his stupidly white hair, an unwanted side-effect of the experiments that still has him startling at his own reflection in the mirror. He didn't sign up for this. God, did he not sign up for this. He has no idea what to do.
He knows what he should do, of course. Open up the trunk and let the man go. It's what Wanda would do. It's the right thing to do. It's what anyone who still considers themselves good would do.
But......
What happens when he returns without his target? Wanda, his sister, his only family, is still with SHIELD, or whoever it is that they'd really signed up to work for. He can't take the risk that they, whatever organisation they are, would hurt her.
In the end, it's the thought of Wanda's reaction should he bring an Avenger, a real-live Avenger (even if it is the lamest one), to harm that has him walking towards the trunk of the car, keys jangling in his hand.
The muffled curses quiet as he approaches and Pietro is prepared for a fight when he opens the trunk but is still surprised by the speed and agility of the attack by a suddenly-not-handcuffed Hawkguy.
He grudgingly admits that he might have underestimated this particular Avenger.
Not that Pietro wasn't easily able to dodge said attack, he is the fastest man alive after all. Still, it's impressive. And annoying. The idiot keeps trying to attack him, seemingly clueless to the fact that Pietro is far too fast for him to catch.
“Will you quit it?! I am letting you go!”
Hawkguy's right hook stills in mid-air as he frowns in confusion. “OK, I think you must have knocked my hearing-aid loose because I could've sworn I just heard you say that you, the guy who kidnapped me, was letting me go.”
It's Pietro's turn to be confused because, hearing-aids? Really? “That does not even make any sense. If I had knocked your hearing-aids loose, how would you even hear what I said in the first place?”
“Good point, kid” the Avenger mutters. “It must just be the head injury talking. You mind telling me who the hell wanted me so bad they paid you to crack my skull open?”
Pietro opens his mouth to answer but realises that he doesn't have a clue who he is actually working for anymore.
“S'not a hard question. Did you get hit on the head too? If so, I'm impressed at myself 'cause I thought you had single-handedly managed to take me down without me even seeing you coming. It'll do my rep a solid if I managed to get a hit or two in on the way.”
Pietro interrupts, because he's starting to get the feeling that if he doesn't, the guy will just keep talking forever. “SHIELD. They told me I was working for SHIELD. But I'm not so sure anymore.”
The Avenger straightens up, face serious. “No. Not SHIELD. Not unless it's really gone to the dogs since Coulson died. What made you realise they might be lying to you?”
“I know who you are. You're an Avenger. Hawkguy. Why would they have me kidnap an Avenger?”
“Hawkguy?! Seriously?! It's Hawk-EYE. Why is that so hard for everyone to - - you know what? Just call me Clint.” Clint rolls his shoulders and Pietro winces as he hears the muscles pop in relief after being wedged in the small space of the trunk for so long. “Right. So, kid. What's your story? They gonna be mad at you for not bringing me in?”
Pietro is a bit taken back that Clint seems to even slightly care about what might happen to him. It's a nice feeling. Unfamiliar, but nice.
“My sister and I, we volunteered for what we thought was SHIELD. They told us they could give us powers, make us soldiers, give us what we need to fight for our country. “ Pietro shrugs. “I don't know what they will do to us if I show up empty-handed.”
Clint looks at him, and it feels like those cold blue eyes are seeing right into the depths of him. “You could always run. From what I've saw, they'd have a hell of a hard time catching you.”
“I would never leave my sister there alone. If I go back, they might take it out on me rather than her. If I run....” Pietro trails off, not even wanting to give voice to the terrible things that he now believes these men are capable of.
“Well,” Clint grins. “Let's not disappoint them. Just, one request, can you please make the handcuffs a little looser this time? I had to dislocate my damn thumb to slip them and it's a bitch shooting arrows with a dislocated thumb.”
Pietro thinks this guy, Clint, Hawkeye, must be mad. “Why are you getting back in the trunk? You are going to let yourself be kidnapped?”
“Look, kid - - “
“My name is Pietro. I am not a kid.”
Pietro raises an eyebrow at the blatant once-over Clint gives him at that statement before clucking his tongue and agreeing.
“Hmm, maybe not. OK, Pietro, as soon as I got my hands free I activated the stupid tracker that Rogers insisted we all carry. The Avengers will be suiting up as we speak, I say we can take these guys and get you and your sister out of there. You seem like a handy guy to have in a fight. Your sister, she like you?”
Pietro shakes his head. “She has this...glowy red stuff that makes things move.” He actually has no idea what the hell Wanda is capable of because the doctors seem terrified to let her find out.
“Sounds weird.” Clint grins. “I like weird. So, what do ya say? You wanna beat the bad guys?”
“That sounds..not so bad.”
“Awesome.” Clint holds his hands out for the handcuffs and Pietro locks them loosely around his wrists.
“A bit looser than I normally like them, but good for the mission.” Clint winks teasingly at him and Pietro feels his cheeks start to flush as Clint chuckles. “Plenty of time to learn my preferences after we shut the bad guys down.”
Pietro takes great pleasure in slamming the trunk lid down, hiding the knowing smirk on Clint's face and laughing to himself as he hears Clint's mock cries of outrage as he heads towards the drivers seat.
This was going to be fun.