It is a quiet afternoon in the Avengers Compound common room. The large windows let in the soft light of the late day sun. Everyone is scattered around, doing their own thing.

Tony is at the bar, tinkering with a StarkPad. Bruce is on the couch, reading a thick science journal. Natasha is in an armchair, flipping through a file. Steve is sketching by the window. Thor is polishing Mjolnir. Clint is lounging on the other couch, arms crossed, looking bored.

The door to the hallway slides open with a soft hiss. Pietro walks in. Not zips. Not blurs. Walks. His steps are slow, heavy. His usual confident smirk is gone. He doesn't look at anyone. He just heads toward the kitchen.

Clint sits up a little, frowning. He watches Pietro like he's never seen him before, because… well, he's never seen him like this.