A year to Remember. Part 2, the Internship

Broken Pieces

Both landing on the bed facing the roof after they drift apart. "Somewhat, just wish there was something we could do", is the last thing said in the room as they both loose themselves to their thoughts. What if there is.

*2 hours later*

Steve walks up to Rhodey and Sam, both of which were chatting by their kitchen island. "Hey guys, I need help with something".

-

"Come on Fri!", He punches the wall, a small dent left by his frustration.

"I'm sorry Mr Maximoff", Her disembodied voice fills the room, "but as I've told you before, I cannot help you in your intent". He punches the wall again, "dammit Friday! Just give me the files".

The AI is no less stubborn. "I can't do that. Ms Potts blocked access to all these files. Only she can access them". Pietro dashes across the room, a trail of smoke left behind. "Fine, if you won't help me I'll do it myself", he yells at her, "Tony told us he went to midtown
That's all I need".

He rushes to his closet putting on Tony's speedster running shoes — designed to resist high G force levels of friction, drag, and tear — running into Clint as he bursts through his door.

"Pietro, you can't do this", he scolds, a finger over each of his eyes as he rubs them tired. "What?", Pietro reacts shocked, feigning ignorance, "what are you talking about?".

Clint sighs disappointed. "I know what you're doing. Your shoes? I know you've been trying to get access to the midtown files". He stares down the speedster, stern but worried. "FRIDAY told me", Clint adds to halt any resistance or denial as he enters Pietro's room.

"So what? He's blocked us, he's not talking to us. I am finding him", Pietro retorts. Clint giving FRIDAY a subtle sign as the doors lock. "Did you just-?!", Pietro barks. Not much shit's given by Clint, "I'm not letting you do this Pietro, it's not gonna help".

Only frustrates the speedster, "You don't know that", Pietro snaps, "and what else am I supposed to do?".

Clint closes the distance between them, "I need you to talk to me, tell me what you're feeling", he demands, trying to hold Pietro's arms.

The speedster growls. "You know exactly what I feel, I've told you how I feel and that's not helping. And the kid blocked you too, why don't you want to help me!". His begging rant only devolved and cracked into a saddened wail.

"I am Pietro", Clint's worry showing more through his voice, rare for the usually flamboyant and self assured spy. "I'm your dad, let me help you".

Doesn't suffice. "Then let me out!", He barks, speeding around the room before punching the lock off the door. Turning back as he walks out the door he whispers, "a real dad wouldn't stop my heart".

Pietro speeds into the elevator, annoyed at FRIDAY's snail's pace, jumping into the Elevator Nat not far behind. He tenses his hands, arms, grinds his teeth, all noticed by the assassin. "I know what happened", she speaks up after seconds and around 15 floors of silence. "I heard what you said".

"So what?", He barks at her, a bold, dangerous move that she lets slide. What she doesn't do is let him continue. "FRIDAY, stop the elevator".

He turns to Natasha, a usually problematically aggressive tone with the spy, "you gonna try and stop me too?". Unimpressed, "No", she answers calmly, laying back onto the elevator's wall, unfazed by his words. "I just have a couple of questions before you go".

Stopping to think it for a minute, "and if I answer then you'll let me go?", he asks.

"Sure".

He speed taps his shoe on the elevator floor, signalling Natasha to start. "Where are you gonna look for the kid?". Pietro's impatience to answer dies, his lack of an answer holding him back. "I don't know", he yells back, "He's talked about Queens a lot, might as well start there".