Two years had passed.

Wanda had moved out, and was living with her girlfriend, Natasha. They'd been together for six months, but Natasha had only met Pietro twice and was extremely awkward around him.

Clint had gotten more custody of his kids, and had them every other week.

"C'mon, let's go!" Cooper whined. "We're gonna miss my game!"

Twenty year old Pietro stood by Cooper. "Yeah, Clint, we will miss his game!" He teased.

Clint scoffed, laughing. "I don't take that long."

He kissed Pietro quickly. "Okay, let's go."

"Finally!" Cooper ran out of the house.

"Slow down, kiddo!" Pietro chuckled.

Cooper turned around, sticking his tongue out playfully.

Pietro grinned, shaking his head.

Three year old Nate tugged on the hem of Pietro's shirt.

"What's up, little man?" He lent on one crutch, letting go of the other to ruffle the toddler's hair.

"Up?" He raised his arms in a motion to be picked up.

"Sorry, Nate. Cannot do that." He smiled. "Go ask your dad."

Nate just toddled beside Pietro.

They piled into the sedan, Clint starting the car.

Fake Plastic Trees by Radiohead faintly played through the speakers. Clint switched the disk to Pearl Jam's top hits. Even Flow now played through the car quietly.

Cooper was spinning the soccer ball in his lap, tossing it to Lila. The two played with the ball, chattering softly.

Clint held Pietro's hand across the console. He let his head fall against the window, watching the familiar scenery from outside the windshield. The cool fall weather made the window cold to the touch.

"Is Russia pretty, Pietro?" Lila piped up.

"Yes. The last time I was there I was merely a child, but it was pretty." He remembered the street he lived on. The trees that grew in the yards. Every detail. The way it smelled, the way the wind felt.

"Dad, can we go to Russia someday?" She asked.

"Maybe." Clint looked over to Pietro briefly.

The russian just stared blankly out the window. He thought of his old house, in Russia. The one he was hit in, starved in.

Minutes passed and Clint parked by the soccer field in the park a short while later, Cooper immediately bolting off to his team.

Clint came around Pietro's side of the car. He held Clint's shoulder as he stepped out, after that Clint wrapped an arm around Pietro's waist to hold him up. He grabbed the crutches from the floor of the backseat, handing them to Pietro.

"Thanks." He mumbled, watching as Clint's nimble fingers undid the car seat buckles with ease.

"No problem, babe." He pressed his lips to the younger's, brushing the now silver hair from the blue eyes.

They walked towards the stands, Nate balanced on Clint's hip and Lila holding onto his hand.

Clint set Nate beside Pietro on the bench, then sitting himself.

The ref started the game. Cooper was a starting forward, instantly stealing the ball and dribbling the ball down the field. The other team ran after him, but none could catch him. He was on fire.

The crowd cheered when the boy kicked the ball into the net.

"Yeah! Go Cooper!" Clint applauded.

He put an arm around Pietro, pulling him closer. The other leant into his embrace, shivering slightly and sniffing.

"You cold, baby?" Clint put a hand on Pietro's knee.

He shook his head, not convincing the older man.

Clint wrapped his jacket around Pietro's shoulders.

"You will be cold now, no?"

"Nah, I'll be fine."

Eventually, halftime was called. Cooper ran up to his dad eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Did you see me?!" He panted, taking a juice box from the small cooler bag. "I was running real fast!"

"Yeah, buddy! You were great!" Clint highfived his son.

Lila fist bumped the soccer player.

The ref blew the whistle, and Cooper sprinted back to his team.

Nate, who had perched himself on Pietro's lap, had practically attached himself to Pietro. He was always on him, talking with him. He'd really taken a liking to the russian.

"I'm hungry." Nate whined.

Clint sighed. "I didn't bring any snacks, Nate."

Nate whined in response.

"Hey, there is only half of the game left. It is not that long." Pietro assured him.

Nate nodded, quieting down.

The wind blew against Clint. He refused to admit that he was cold. He put an arm around his boyfriend, warming up.

The game ended. Cooper's team won by a landslide.

Lila kicked the ball around with Cooper, running ahead. The couple watched for a few minutes.

"I love you." Pietro sighed contently.

"I love you too, honey." Clint kissed Pietro's temple.

They walked toward the car, Lila and Cooper following, and Nate clinging to Clint's side.

Pietro noticed two teenagers standing by an oak tree, laughing hysterically. He saw them mock him, but pretended not to notice. Clint, on the other hand, was pissed.

"Clint, it is not big deal." He whispered. "It happens all the time. You know that."

Clint put the kids in the car, stalking towards the hooligans.

"Clint, no. It is fine!" Pietro pleaded. He was so embarrassed.

"I'll be right back." Clint kissed him quickly.

Pietro sighed, shuffling toward the car.

The kids stopped abruptly when Clint approached them.

"S-sorry, sir-"

Clint cut him off. "Do you know what cerebral palsy is?"

They both shook their head.

"It's what limits my boyfriend's life. It affects the way his muscles work, and thank god it didn't affect his mental capabilities. He isn't stupid. He saw you two. He didn't want me to do anything." Clint glared at the two. "He's so used to people mocking him and teasing him that he doesn't care anymore."

The boys looked genuinely sorry.

"Next time, don't make fun of people's disabilities. It hurts them, and the people who love them. My kids saw that. Do you want to explain what you were doing to them?"

"No sir. We're sorry sir."

"Good."

Clint stormed off to the car. He helped Pietro into the car, running his fingers through the dyed hair.

"You did not have to do that." Pietro shook his head. "They are...they are just kids. They do not know any better."

"They should know better."

Pietro looked out the window to see the kids talking to each other, a lot less happy. He felt bad. The kids didn't know any better. They didn't hurt him physically, so it didn't count to him.

"You know it does not bother me, Clint." He sighed.

"That's what scares me. You let people get away with too much."