one-shot collection [multi-fandom]

Bloodstream || Pietro Maximoff

You knew that soulmates existed - your Aunt and Uncle were lucky enough to find each other - but it was rare for soulmates to find each other, due to the very nature of how they were, or are, interconnected.

You were seven when you and your family first realised that you had a soulmate. You had woken up one morning screaming in pain, terrifying your parents as you clutched your knee. When your parents were finally able to peel your tiny fingers from their vice-like grip on your knee, a small smile appeared on their faces. A tiny scar had magically appeared, it was no bigger than a quarter of an inch long, something that would happen after tripping over their own feet.

With a kiss to your knee, your parents tucked you back into bed, telling you they'll explain it all to you in the morning, just to try and get some rest.

~0~

The next scar you would be prepared for, or so you told yourself. What you didn't expect, was to feel as if a building had been dropped on you. You had just sat down at the start of class - it was your first day of 4th grade, and you had just moved schools. Breaking down in tears, screaming, as open raw scars littered your body was not how you wanted to be introduced to the new town, the new school, as the child who lost their soulmate at age 10.

You hadn't, but the next few hours, days, weeks, made you wish that you had. Never, never, had you felt pain on this level. But beyond the pain, your heart only broke. If you were receiving this level of pain from the scars alone, you could not imagine the amount of pain your soulmate would be in.

And your heart broke.

You swore that you wouldn't let them be in this amount of pain ever again.

~0~

That promise broke eight years later.

You were barely able to focus for the duration of your senior year. Every second day, without fail, you woke to a new scar.

Some days, they'd be nothing more than a small pinprick on the back of your hand, maybe in the corner of your elbow.

Some days, they'd stretch from your elbow to your wrist.

Some days, they'd cross your chest.

Some days, they'd run down the back of your calves.

Some days...

Some days...

Some days...

You'd decided you'd had enough.

After all the pain you had been put through with your soulmate, you decided enough was enough. You wanted to find them. You needed to find them.

Your first port of call, 9 years ago, what happened on that day exactly.

It took a few days of scouring the web, but finally you found it, "TERRORISTS BLOW UP APARTMENT BUILDING, SOKOVIA" a single article on the BBC World News Archive.

College was the furthest thing from your mind as you booked a plane ticket from San Francisco to Novi Grad, the capital. The news article wasn't much to go on, but you had a gut feeling. You needed to be there, and soon.

The city was flying.

The city was flying.

As you tried to find shelter, you wondered what on earth possessed you to come here. The stinging sensation across your bicep answered your question. Your stupid soulmate would be the reason you were here, and you just knew that they were here too.

The next thing you knew, you were being swept off your feet.

A man with superhuman speed had been spotted zipping around the city, nothing more than a blue and silver blur. Watching the blur come charging towards you, you tensed, braced yourself for impact, an impact that never came.

Still standing with your eyes clenched shut, your arms tucked into your chest, you felt a gentle brushing sensation down your arms, across your cheek.

"Who did this to you?"

The thick accent startled you, despite how quiet his voice was.

Slowly blinking in what felt like blinding light, up at the man before you, you noticed that despite the dark roots, he had silver hair. Eyes trailing down, you noticed that despite the dust and dirt spattering his rather tight outfit, he was relatively unharmed.

Relatively.

Your eyes were drawn to the slowly bleeding wound on his upper arm. In a slight bit of shock, you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing the skin around the wound.

Having not received a reply, the man before you merely frowned down at you, eyes unable to leave your face. He knew he should be zipping around, meeting up with the others, but he was drawn to this strange person before him.

And they were covered in scars.

Pietro had never seen so many scars on one person before. Every moment he stared at them, his heart broke just that little bit more.

"Who did this to you?"

The second time the man repeated the question, his voice was firmer, harder, and somehow more broken.

The intensity of the man before you felt like a crushing weight on your chest, so you took a deep shuddering breath before replying.

"My, uh, my soulmate hasn't had the, uh, easiest of lives. I came here to try and find them."

Your gaze still had not left the wound on the man's arm.

The warm chuckle drew your gaze up towards his face. "You picked one hell of a time to find them."

A soft smile grew on your lips. "Well, I think I have found them."

A confused expression briefly flickered across the man's confident smirk.

Deciding to test your theory, you spotted shattered glass a half a step to your left. Bending down, you crushed the glass in your palm. The hiss of pain from behind you left you smiling. The same, however, could not be said for the Sokovian speedster.

Picking you up, Pietro ran at a speed that he had not attempted in his lifetime, the urgent need to get you to one of the life rafts trumping every other instinct within him.

Placing you down, he hurriedly cupped your cheek with his left hand, his right entwined with yours. "Stay here, be safe, we will talk about this later." With a rushed peck on your brow, and a quick 'stay there' tossed over his shoulder, the speedster rushed off, more determined than ever to end this fight.

Less than an hour later, you were left gasping for breath as 8 more scars blossomed across your body. Then, in one heart-shattering gasp, every scar that had ever appeared on your body, faded away, leaving behind a blank canvas, and a broken heart.