One More Time (Pietro Maximoff X Reader)

Author's Note: Angsty ending!! Also: I have no idea how cancer works so I probably got it completely wrong?? Forgive me!!

"You have what?" Pietro's voice was filled with disbelief, and you couldn't blame him. You hadn't seen it coming either.

"Cancer, Pie. Cancer." Just saying it out loud made your heart fill with dread. Cancer. It had been unexpected, and by the time the doctors found it, it was too late to even try chemotherapy. The cancer had spread too far, and you weren't expected to last more than two weeks.

Two more weeks with Pietro. If the doctors were right, you'd end up dying on Valentine's Day. What a great gift for Pietro, huh? Seventeen years old, and you were going to die.

"No, no." Pietro denied, shaking his head. "That can't be right. You're healthy. Is this "Give Your Boyfriend A Heart Attack" day?"

You frowned. "I wish. I'm sorry. I don't...I don't know what to do. I had this whole list in my head of things I wanted to do before I passed but two weeks? It's just not enough time."

Pietro was frowning too, but there was a determined gleam in his eye that surprised you. "Babe, I have super speed. We'll have plenty of time to do everything." He zoomed out of the room and returned less than two seconds later with a pen and a pad of paper. "Sooner you get your list down, sooner we can get started."

You pulled him down into a quick kiss to thank him before you started writing.

1. I know it's stupid but I thought I'd have more time: get married

Pietro glanced over your shoulder at the list and smiled to himself at the number one thing on your list. "Oh, that can definitely be arranged."

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"Are you sure this is legal?" You hissed as Pietro dragged you behind him into the Las Vegas wedding chapel.

"No, it's actually super illegal."

You dug your feet into the ground in sheer panic. "What?"

"Relax, kidding." Pietro assured, running his hands up and down your arms. "But seriously, pretend you're eighteen. That's technically the legal age unless you get your parents consent, and I really didn't wanna go through the hassle of getting them all down here."

"This was a stupid idea, I'm sorry, you can take me home now." You said, turning on your heel and starting to walk away from the surprisingly elegant white building.

Pietro was in front of you before you had gotten more than two steps. His hands rested on your shoulders, and he had a serious expression on his face (for once in his life). "This is not stupid. You want to get married. I even got us each a fake birth certificate and a fake license made, so we kind of have to get married." Pietro leaned in close, his silver hair falling around his face. "Besides, I wanna marry you too." He shrugged at your confused look. "This is my only chance to marry the love of my life; I have to take it."

That sentence simultaneously made your heart break because in two weeks, you'd be gone, and warmth bloom in your chest because he considered you the love of his life. You leaned forward and kissed him swiftly. "I love you." One of your hands found his and squeezed it tightly. "Let's go get married."

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"Woah." Pietro whispered under his breath as you stepped out from behind the curtain. The wedding chapel had a limited selection of rental wedding dresses to choose from, but you had managed to find a beautiful one.

It had sheer paneling for the sleeves and part of the chest, and the neckline was a sweetheart that nicely emphasized your chest. The gown fell to your feet in a simple straight line, but paired with the lacy veil atop your __h/c__ hair and the shy smile on your lips, you truly looked like a bride.

Pietro honestly felt out of place in his plain white button up shirt, clip on bowtie, and black dress pants.

"Hey." You spoke softly, eying him up and down. "You clean up nicely, Pie."

He snorted. "Not as nice as you. Damn, __y/n__." You flushed at his words, and the marriage officiant coughed to get your attention. You both turned to her, smiling sheepishly, and thirty minutes and sixty dollars later, you were married.

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"I like being married." You murmured drowsily, playing with the ring on Pietro's left hand as you laid together on his couch. For the last ten days, you and Pietro had been checking off everything on your bucket list. You went to England, swam with a dolphin, kissed him on top of the Eiffel Tower, sang karaoke together at a dingy bar, and about two dozen other things that made the rest of your life that much more enjoyable.

"I do too." Pietro spoke softly, but there was a note of sadness in his voice. It was Valentine's Day. The day you were supposed to pass.

Pietro could see it in your eyes that you were slipping. He could see the pain every time you breathed or spoke, and it made his heart shatter. He had always promised to protect you from anything, but he couldn't protect you from this.

"Hey, Pie, I love you. You know that right?" Your voice was soft, but Pietro heard you loud and clear.

"Of course I do, __y/n__, I love you too." His words made you smile, and Pietro smiled gently back, a hand carding through your hair.

"I love you a lot. And I think," You had to pause from the pain. "I think this might be it."

"Really?" He asked, and god, it was so hard to keep his voice from shaking. 

You nodded, your eyes slipping in and out of focus. "Yeah." You looked up at your husband as best as you could. "Kiss me one more time?"

A tear dripped from his eye at your request, but he hastily wiped it away and did as you asked. Pietro's hands cupped your cheeks as he kissed you chastely, and when he pulled away a few moments later, it was to the heartbreaking realization that you were no longer breathing. Pietro didn't try to hide his tears as he clutched your lifeless body to his, whispering that he loved you so so much.

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For the next week, Pietro tried to figure out how to work time travel (if The Flash could do it, so could he, damn it!), but after another failed attempt, Pietro sat himself down on his couch (the last place he had got to hold you in his arms) and told himself to get over it.

You would want him to move on. You would want him to be happy. You wouldn't want him to spend his time searching for a way to bring you back.

With a look at the simple silver band on his ring finger, Pietro promised that he would his life for the one you'd never had. He could live for you. He would live for you. He had to live for you.

End.