TODAY WAS THE DAY. Leo was going to get Pietro to like him, even if it killed him. Then again, he had more than a day, he had however long it was going to take everyone, sans Rhodey, to complete the mission they were assigned, though he didn't know what it was since he wasn't at the debriefing, though Pietro wasn't either, which gave him optimal conversation starters.

So maybe he wouldn't have to die to get Pietro to talk to him after all.

He finished his morning power posing—he went on for two sets of Spongebob episodes this time, not including the commercial typically in between since it wasn't on cable—before sighing, stretching so he was as loose as possible, sighing when his back cracked as he touched his toes then rolled up, then moved into a backbend.

He always scared Fury when he did this, it always made him think Leo was possessed, what with that movie they watched together when Leo was much too young and impressionable but excited to break the rules.

Moving back to stand, he did a few warm up jumps, jogging in place to get the blood flowing, then stretching once more to truly top it all off, and he tried to remain optimistic about the whole thing, which was why he watched Spongebob to make sure he was smiling for a while.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out into the hall, making his way into the kitchen since his stomach was growling and he needed to have a full stomach if he wanted to get Pietro to like him, only to stop dead in his tracks when he found the young man seated at the dining table, as if waiting for someone to join him.

A people-pleaser at heart, Leo had grown up learning to be incredibly good at reading people, not because his parents told him to as it would make him a better agent, but because he knew when to change conversation topics or offer comfort or leave someone alone. If he could understand people, then he could do whatever he needed to.

Maybe this was what everyone was talking about.

Pietro himself was turning in on himself, his arms braced on the table, hands gripping the opposite forearm, his stance screaming for people to leave him alone, but Leo had been in this position far too many times to not notice his demeanor; he was lonely.

Leo passed by him, looking down at him because for once he could, and Pietro didn't look at him, but his muscles involuntarily twitched under his gaze, and Leo bit his tongue to keep silent, trying not to rush as he began to work, only to remember that Pietro was a rather impatient person, so he moved faster.

He had to stop himself from panicking as he waited for the food to cook, knowing that Pietro wouldn't leave if he was hungry; well, he didn't know, but he heavily inferred, especially considering it seemed as though he didn't want to move much.

In the end, Pietro was still there and Leo was pouring his favorite comfort food into two bowls, placing them in the fridge to cool down while he left the rest to cool naturally, making his way around to finish putting whipped cream and cinnamon on the top of the two mugs he had prepared in advance.

Once he was finished, he took everything in his hands, trying not to seem flustered or rushed as he placed a bowl and mug in front of Pietro, moving to sit across from him with his own set, giving the young man a gapped tooth smile before turning his attention down to the macaroni and cheese he had perfected growing up, as well as the hot chocolate that he would always drink with it.

Pietro was genuinely surprised at the food placed in front of him, looking between the bowl and Leo like it was some sort of trick, but then Leo started to eat, a smile tugging on his lips for no other reason than the taste, and Pietro decided that he might as well try, still wary if the man had done anything to it.

"You can get yourself a new bowl from the pot if you want to make sure, I won't judge," Leo said, motioning to the pot filled with macaroni and cheese, wondering why he chose to have those be his first words.

But he didn't think too much of it as he watched the young man falter, glancing between him, then the pot, then the bowl in front of him. Leo gave him a smile to make sure that he knew that he was truly okay with whatever he decided to do, and he tried not to show his surprise when the twin finally sighed, shifting to face forward, beginning to eat the pasta.

Leo's smile grew wider when he saw Pietro's eyes widen and twitch, the reaction that was often garnered when people tried his mac 'n cheese, and Leo watched as he began to dig in, pausing when he glanced towards the mug, though he didn't reach towards it so easily.

Leo picked up his own mug, taking a sip, trying not to smile at the taste, knowing fully well that the whipped cream was now on his nose and upper lip, pulling the mug away from his face, snickering when he saw Pietro roll his eyes at the sight, and he reveled in the sight of the younger man's lips twitching into a ghost of a smile as he he reached out to his own mug, taking a sip of his own, winding up with a mustache and clown nose of his own.

Leo laughed, reaching out and wiping the whipped cream with the back of his hand, and Pietro did the same, rolling his eyes again, and went back to eating, and Leo reveled in how he was smiling.

He wasn't going to say anything. That was something he never understood with people, wanting to change the subject when everything was already going well. If things were fine, he would keep them fine, they could worry later.

"Thank you," Pietro said, motioning towards his now empty bowl, "It was very good."

"I'm glad," Leo said, and it was strange to hear his own voice, and he glanced towards the pot, "You can have more if you want."

"Thank you, but I am okay, I will just head back to my room," Pietro said, and Leo tried not to show how ecstatic he was that Pietro wasn't only telling him where he was going without asking, but was also using full sentences to do it.

"If you're up for it, you wanna do something later?" Leo asked, unable to help himself, and the blond shrugged.

"If you can find me," was all he said before leaving the room, and it was enough for Leo.

He continued to eat, simply sitting there as he tried to plan out his next moves, wondering just how long he was supposed to leave Pietro be before seeking him out again.

As he finished eating and cleaning up, he began to second guess himself, questioning why he was trying so hard, why people expected him to be able to do this, he wasn't cut out for this line of work, his parents hadn't raised him for this.

He was an Oberholt. Oberholts weren't made to be soft.

º º º

He hid in his room for the rest of the day, leaving a note for the others that they could finish off the mac 'n cheese that was still left in the pot, not feeling up to go anywhere, a feeling that he hadn't felt since high school, but he refused to call Fury.

Oberholts didn't ask for help.

He didn't turn on any of the TV shows he usually watched, instead turning on the news, remembering all the times his father had tried to explain to him the importance of being up to date on all the occurrences of the world, and it was only when Leo had a panic attack at school as he remembered all he had seen on the news that he allowed him to hear the news from others, putting him on a need-to-know basis.

Spongebob had been more of a coping mechanism than anyone was expecting, but, like his mother always said, he had to face his fears at some point.

He tried not to cry as he remembered his last few conversations with his father. The man had been so proud of him whenever he talked about work, and Leo was glad his father hadn't been alive to see S.H.I.E.L.D. fall in such a way; a Jewish man, it would've broken him to know that Nazis had infiltrated the very institution he devoted his life to.

It had upset his mother more than anything, and he could still remember her phone calls and conversations. While he didn't live at home, he had gone back to Jersey to stay with her during the trying time, especially since she was by herself now.

Before he could continue thinking about his family, there was a knock on his door, and he blinked, realizing that he was watching a report on a killing spree in a city he couldn't catch the name of, his heart racing as he fumbled with the remote to turn it off, standing as he made his way over to open the door, finding Rhodey standing there.

"Hey," the man said, shoving his hands into his pockets, "I saw the note on the pot, did you eat? I ran into Pietro, he said he hadn't seen you after lunch."

Leo glanced over to his clock, eyes widening when he realized it was nearing midnight. He hadn't even realized he had lost all that time.

He turned back to Rhodey with wide, fearful eyes, and the older man sighed, motioning with his hand towards the room in silent question, Leo stepping aside to let him in. He watched as Rhodey took a seat on his bed, patting the spot next to him, and the redhead sat down tentatively next to him.

"You're getting in your own head," Rhodey said simply, and Leo stared at his hands in shame, wringing them, his cheeks as red as his hair.

"It's nothing to beat yourself up about," the man continued, "But you can't just let it fester inside you. I'm a soldier, I know better than anyone the importance of talking to people."

"That's weak," Leo spat, but it sounded foreign to his ears, and he didn't know who it came from; certainly not  his parents who sent him to a therapist all throughout high school.

"Let me guess," Rhodey sighed, after Leo had told him as much, apologizing for the words that didn't come from him or his parents, "Your parents loved you and they sent you to this therapist and they cared about your mental health, but that didn't mean they understood the point nor did they really want to in the first place."

Leo shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "When my dad was mad at me, he'd tell me that I didn't have anything wrong with me, that I just had to toughen up, everyone else in the family did. But my mom understood, because I got it from her side of the family."

Rhodey reached out and wrapped an arm around his shoulder in a side hug, rubbing his arm. "You know he was wrong, right?"

"Of course I know he was wrong, but that didn't make him a bad dad, he paid for all of it, he talked to my teachers about accommodations for my ADD, he was a good dad," Leo cried, and Rhodey shushed him softly, holding him closer, and the redhead rested his head against his shoulder.

"I know, I didn't say he was a bad dad," Rhodey said, "I just want you to know that just because you don't have a therapist anymore doesn't mean you don't have anyone to talk to. We brought you to help Pietro, but that doesn't mean you can't ask for help."

Leo shook his head. "I'm an Oberholt, we don't ask for help."

Rhodey scoffed, shaking his head. "That's bullshit, kid, drop that right now."

Leo laughed slightly, staring down at his hands which were clasped together. "I don't know what I'm doing here. I mean, I want to help, and I'm going to try, but I don't think I'm the right person for this. I mean...I don't think Pietro wants me to help him, you know?"

Rhodey sighed, shaking his head. "I don't think that's the case, kid. Just keep doing what you're doing. Trust me."

Because, unbeknownst to Leo, Pietro had waited for the redhead to find him the entire day, making his way around the entire facility. The entire day, he had waited. But Leo never showed.

º º º

It was three days later and the team still hadn't returned.

Leo and Pietro were on shaky terms again, though, because Leo had entered the kitchen the next day with a slight cold, Pietro had decided that the redhead's inability to find him was due to him being sick and didn't hold it against him, which was much better than all his hard work going to waste.

But that didn't mean they talked much.

One of the major interactions they had had was on the second day when Leo had curled up on the couch in the viewing room and put on Spongebob episodes to make himself feel better. Pietro had joined him for one of the two episodes, his eyebrows furrowed and head tilted as he watched the episode.

As the credits of that particular episode rolled, he had spoken. "What is this?"

"It's Spongebob Squarepants," Leo had explained, shifting in his blanket to look at him, "When you're older, it's hard to get into it, especially if you're part of this Western culture who've deemed it stupid, and the newest episodes are stupid, but the first three seasons were golden and shaped a generation."

Pietro had raised an eyebrow, looking towards him. "It's stupid."

Leo had shrugged in response, burrowing deeper in his blanket. "Well, I like it, so I guess that makes me stupid."

Pietro had left after that, and Leo wondered if he had driven him away.

The other major interaction they had was on this day, when Leo headed into the gym, only to find Pietro walking on the treadmill, earbuds shoved in, blaring music, and Leo watched him for a moment, remembering their first conversation.

He didn't want to keep staring so he tried to busy himself, heading over to another treadmill, setting up his tablet, plugging in his earbuds and turning on an episode of the crime show he used to watch with Fury; he had a lot of episodes to catch up on.

As he walked, moving towards a light job, he kept an eye on Pietro through his peripheral vision, the two locking eyes for a brief moment before both turned away, Pietro staring at the wall and Leo watching as one of the main characters said something bigoted, much to the chagrin of the other members of the team.

He quickly fell into a rhythm, moving faster and faster as he fell into pace, and he noticed, with a start, that Pietro was accelerating his speed as well, running faster and faster, and Leo's eyes widened when he realized that he wasn't going at an even pace, his stomach sinking as he realized what was about to happen.

Sure enough, Pietro's eyes widened and he shouted as the leg he had been shot at gave way, sending him falling and flying off the treadmill, being thrown onto the gym mat floor in a heap, the young man stifling his shout.

Leo jumped off his treadmill, racing towards him, sliding down to help him sit up, looking towards his leg, Pietro grasping towards it, and he reached out to stretch it, though the younger man hissed.

"It's okay, I think you cramped up and psyched yourself out," Leo explained, massaging the muscles the way he had learned back in wrestling, "You're okay."

Pietro took deep breaths, shaking his head. "Where's Wanda? Or Arabella."

"They're both on the mission still," Leo said, his words dripping with sympathy, "I'm the only one here. Listen, come on, stretch out your leg, look, it's okay."

Pietro sighed, stretching it out as best he could, and Leo continued to work, speaking as he did, trying to pull his attention away. "How have you been holding up? With not having Wanda around, I mean, I could tell you two are close."

"She is all I have," Pietro said, raising a hand up to a necklace that was around his neck, which was surprising to see, as Leo assumed Wanda was the one with all the jewelry, "So, no, I am not holding up well. I nearly lost her once."

"She'll come back," Leo said, raising his head to give him a sincere look, "You guys are the Avengers, it'll take a lot to take you out."

Pietro scoffed. "She might be, but I am not." Leo opened his mouth, but he continued, "I do not mean my leg. She might believe all she wants that these people are our family, but they are not. They do not know us."

"Well," Leo began carefully, shrugging, "Maybe that's just it. They want to get to know you more. Wanda has been open to it."

"I do not understand why," Pietro sighed, his arms growing tired of holding up his weight, moving to lean more against Leo, "We have been by ourselves for so long, I do not understand why she wants to be a part of these people."

"You were by yourselves for so long," Leo repeated, "That's lonely. She's not leaving you, she's trying to bring more people into your lives. Don't you want to connect with people again? Have a bigger family again?"

Pietro's eyes darkened. "I tried once. Never again."

Leo didn't ask, because he knew he didn't want to tell. But he held his gaze, letting him know that he saw, simply continuing to work on his leg which wasn't hurting as much anymore, filing away everything for future reference.

Pietro sighed, glancing away. "Thank you."

Leo understood exactly what he meant. "I'm always here."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 10.14.18 )

This was so hard to write, I'm so sorry you guys, but I hope it was alright, like, I really struggled, so I'm sorry, but I just needed to get over this hurdle so the two can start to bond more like ugh...whatever.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!