100 Marvel One Shots✔️

Don't Fear The Reaper >> Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Title: Don't Fear The Reaper

Paring: Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Warnings: ghosts and death and healing

Spoilers: yes for Age of Ultron. Major spoilers.

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Some days, it would be normal. Well, as normal as the Avengers could get; it wasn't exactly a picnic when a group of superheroes came together to crash in the Avengers facility in upstate New York.

Everyone was their own person. But, to be honest, and frank, it like living in a damn sitcom. What, with Tony's tinkering would wake the team at ungodly hours, and on Sunday morning Thor would shock everyone out of their celebratory hangovers with his baritone rumble. Even Steve got in on the drama; he would make the new training Avengers follow a strict diet (which you, Sam, Wanda and Vision begrudgingly ate...but also snuck powdered doughnuts in to substitute cheat day to be everyday).

But a very not normal thing was going on.

Something very not normal. At all.

You happened to notice this occurrence only because of the one thing which made you the reserve Avenger. Thanks to your freakishly weird mutation that Charles Xavier trained you to manage before you left the X-Men's yellow and black spandex for an Avenger ID card. You, ________ ________, had been known for reasons scientifically unknown, to possess a gene to heal people ... as well as resurrect them.

But the latter? That had one-time thing, an accident, when Bobby fried himself with the toaster. A one off.

Sure, you weren't a regular miracle, and Nat and Clint made sure there was no need for Reaper to make an appearance (you really disliked the codename, you didn't kill people) but it had its perks where it did. Seeing as you were fully trained for combat, thank you Mr Summers - you had to wait your turn on the sidelines for speciality tuning.

Which, by pure happenstance and accident, was when you noticed the strange, not normal, very peculiar goings-on going on with Wanda.

Quietly, as if she was talking to someone beside her, she'd gesture and animate her face with a variety of emotions. She would talk, aloud, in her head, in all variations of tones. The first time it happened, you wondered if it could be a fluke. Wanda Maximoff was an enigma wrapped up in a burrito of strange. But, the sixteenth time that month, and you were starting to wonder about Wanda.

"Hey - is it a bad time to talk?" Turning, you find you're face to face with a slightly sweating Sam. Obviously, he's taken three rounds to many with an angry rhinoceros, or has been in hand to hand with Cap.

You shake your head. "Nope. Just waiting. What's on your mind, Sammy?"

He smiles. You're the only one on the team who calls him that without being disputed. "Same thing that's on your brain, Reaper. She sure talks a lot to her self, don't you think?"

You lay your head on your knees, and look at her. Really look at Wanda, like a Men in Black agent or a pet owner trying to suss out what their rambunctious puppy did to their poor living room.

"...Sam," you breathe, "you've worked with people with PTSD and stuff, right? In your support group back in DC?"  You turn to him. His face is beaded in sweat, eyes wide.

Sam nods. "Just because I have a support group doesn't mean I'm the freaking angel on your shoulder, gorgeous." He smirks. "But yeah. PTSD is common along the usuals for Vets."