Not Alone >> Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Title: Not Alone


Paring: Pietro Maximoff X Reader


Spoilers: none


Warnings: yes! medical procedures and Hydra things. 


Author's Note: It's 2:47am I can't sleep here's a fic I whipped up from insomnia


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The last thing you could remember was the noise of the marketplace. People everywhere. The colours of skin, bright and sweaty in the unusually warm spring, the smell of paprika and spices that lit your mind into a dizzy frenzy. Your friends had wandered off to find a food cart with bottled water, accidentally leaving you behind. That was it, and now, your eyes were opening, head throbbing, throat thick and sore, and it was all gone. The smell, the life of the marketplace. Gone.








"She's awake," a heavily accented man spoke. English. It felt strange to hear it, on his tongue. His smile is wicked, teeth sharp, like a wolf. Your gaze is wavy, like you've been drugged, but it soon passes, and you're left with an elevated heart rate and a wild suspicion of something dark and dangerous afoot. "I am Strucker, head of the facility here, and you are not going to feel a thing."


When you wake, your mind is off. But what you see isn't the faces of the evil men who had stolen you from the street, it's - 


"Tony Stank," you mumble. Even suited up, and your mind in a fairyland, you knew the red and gold robot-suited man who was carrying you out. After all, his face was plastered everywhere, from billboards in your hometown, the news -- even to the box of his new Stark phones. "I can't be dead, I haven't finished watching Buffy yet." 


When you wake again, it's slow, but unlike the grogginess you woke up to before, it simply feels like taking a breath after being underwater for a long time. As your eyes adjust, you come to notice lots of things. The lights are not flickering. It's white, a white room, sterile-looking like a TV hospital, or even a real hospital. There's a pen cup on the table beside where you are, and it only has blue pens, and one red. 


There's a beeping sound. 


"You're awake," a man's voice rumbles. It's an accent you remember, but not the speaker. Your gaze adjusts, to see a man in a blue tee beside the pen cup, sitting up in a hospital bed. Alike the one you are in. "Now I have a roomie, or, at least someone who will speak to me."


You blink, turning to see the other side of the room. It's a glass wall, looking out to a bright green lawn, and beyond that, beautiful forest as far as your eye can see.


"Where am I?" you whisper.


The man takes a deep breath, placing the pen in his hand upon the table. "You are in the Avengers facility. Unlike the other civilians who survived Sokovia, you are tucked away in here for observation." His accent is hard to wrap your mind around, but within the last sentence, you catch on. "Just in case you have any side effects of being in Strucker's care."


Your mind is reeling, and just to show it, the monitor beside the bed races alongside your pulse. There's a thunder of footsteps approaching, and none other than the faces of scientist Bruce Banner and Helen Cho appear. They both begin fussing over the machinery you're hooked up to, and Dr. Banner begins shushing the man in the bed beside you. 


"Just because you're bed bound doesn't mean you're to be a pest to those recovering nearest to you," he chastens. "It's a miracle you're alive, let alone speaking, thanks to Dr. Cho's miracle machine."


The woman who's standing beside you, checking the numbers on the screen hums in agreement. "What Dr. Banner is trying to say, is that you are lucky to be alive, as is young _______ here. It would be no repayment for anyone to chew their ear off, Pietro."


The man, Pietro nods, his white-blonde hair falling into his eyes, silently agreeing. His fingers twitch without something within them, and without another word, he gathers the pen he put down to scribble with once more. Dr. Banner approaches the end of your bed, and placing his hands on the railing, he gives you a small smile. 


"So, ______ is it?" he starts. "Where're you from?"


Your voice fails you, but with a deep breath, you manage to muster words. "Queens." You mumble. "I - I can't speak, like I - why?" you ask him. 


Dr. Cho joins Dr. Banner at the end of the bed. "When you were in the Hydra facility, do you remember the men who took you administering you anything?" she asks you. Her voice is calm, words precise like a surgeon. "It would help in diagnosing what has happened."


You can't recall anything, mostly all the memories you have are in fractures, lost in moments and time like corners of a loaf of bread fed to the ducks, and the face of him, just leering close to you, the dark, dank walls closing in, his foul breath, a needle - 


"Yes," you whisper. A tear forms, and falls before you can stop it. "A sedative, but, it...it didn't feel like one. It had something in it." you manage to whisper.


Dr. Cho's face lights up. "That's great - I mean, not for you, but for us to figure out." She grabs the notepad hooked at the base of the bed and jots down your words at once. "You said it didn't feel like a sedative, because you've been sedated before, or -,"


From the other bed, Pietro pipes up. "When my sister and I were injected, we had a mixture of morphine and a chemical formula that prepares the immune system for the second shot, which determines the outcome of the body." He gives the party around your bed a small wave, and relapses into his bout of silence like he was told, but not before he adds, "What _______ here would be in is the between state of being. They developed it after not many survived the, ah, Winter Soldier serum."


"The In Between?" Dr. Banner repeats. "Pietro, you remember being in this stage. What happened to your body?"


The grey-haired man shrugs, and winces. "Drowsiness, fatigue. It weakens functions of the body, like...like a-,"


"Medically induced coma patient, who instead is awake for a procedure, numb and disconnected." She turns to Dr. Banner, and in hushed words, the pair of them speak in doctor language and Avenger code. "_______, at present we have two options. We could seek the Hydra facility, and find the second dose, and proceed with what they had done to you."


"The inhumane, easy option," Dr. Banner sums up.


"Or," Dr. Cho adds, "I can hook you up to a machine that will cleanse your system, and remove the blood from your system and replace it before it can create a larger impact on you than it can. It is your choice."


Your mind wants to drift off, to think about little trivial things, like if your travelling party ever found the bottled water, and if you had really been saved by Tony Stark himself, but there's a voice that speaks in your head, the voice of logic that brings you back to where you need to be. In charge of your own fate.


"The...second option," you whisper. "I'd rather be a - freak than a...dead mutant."








As you wake, the first thing you notice is a warmth in your hand. The rest of your body is beneath the hospital sheets, right where you left it after the procedure. It's pleasantly heated under the gown and duvet, but your hand, it's full of something, filling something empty. Your eyes focus, fluttering ajar, taking in the dimmed lights of the room around you. The moonlight bathes the scene in a glow of silver. 


And Pietro's bed has been wheeled closer toward yours, for your hand to be interlocked perfectly within his fingers. Your mind vaguely remembers the request, his accent slipping away from words as you went under the anaesthesia, but it's clear. 


You are not alone.  

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