Pietro/Delaney
Delaney was pacing her residential suite—courtesy of Tony Stark, because why not house your doctor and her assistant in your giant ass tower?— when it happened. The burning started. And it wasn't like a mild irritating burn. This was full on, holy crap my body's on fire burning.
An agonizing trip to the bathroom later, she watched with horror as the messy scrawl across the front of her right shoulder erased itself from body. "No. No, no, no, no, no," came her horrified whisper. She had heard of this type of thing before. The painful burning stopped when the last of the words had erased itself from her body. She would never meet the idiot that would call her an angel.
She couldn't believe it. Ever since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of a perfect ending: good job, her soulmate, maybe a kid or two. Maybe it could still happen, but Delaney knew it couldn't, wouldn't be the same. The only reminded that she had was a dull pain where the mark once was.
~~~~~~~~~~
"What happened?" Clint questioned, eyeing the young woman in shock. She was there, but not there. He had never seen Delaney like this. She was usually upbeat, distracted by the work at hand. Instead, she was barely moving through the motions of her assignment, preparing the Cradle for Pietro.
"Her mark burned itself off earlier. Whoever they were, they're gone," Helen answered. Setting a hand on Delaney's arm, she told the girl to rest.
"Jesus. Burned off?" Clint muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. The poor girl hadn't even met her soulmate and they'd been ripped away from her. No one deserved that.
"Is there any way to save him?" came a soft, accented voice. It was Wanda. She stood next to her twin's body. Delaney and Wanda hadn't had the time to talk much at all; both girls were too much in shock for anything more than a brief introduction.
"In time. The Cradle can heal him," Helen answered. Wanda was relieved beyond relief, thanking the doctor immensely. "Clint, can you accompany Delaney back to her rooms? And keep an eye on her, please."
"Come on, kid. Let's get you upstairs." He eventually coaxed the girl into the elevator and back to her residential suite. He had a good guess as to what Helen had meant by 'keep and eye on her'. Delaney had to be in a fragile state, and could very well do something stupid.
"You're gonna be okay," he soothed. He didn't know if Delaney's life would work the same as the unmarked. He knew plenty of unmarked couples who had happy endings, heard of the rare rejected soulmates that found happiness with the unmarked. It had to work similarly, right?
~~~~~~~~~~
Since that day, Delaney could hardly sleep. If she was lucky, she could get in a brief nap during the day, but that was it. Even then it was fitful at best. Suddenly, a few nights later, Delaney was wrenched out of sleep one night, only a few days later, by a familiar burning. Half asleep, she stumbled into the bathroom. There, in the same spot it was in, her burned away mark was burning its way back onto her body. This time, she cried tears of joy. They were back! She had a second chance.
She could hardly believe it. The scientific part of her mind questioned this turn of events rapidly: How was this possible? Why was the mark back? Did they actually die? However, a much louder part of her brain told the scientific part to just shut the hell up.
Clint was still her designated babysitter, dozing on the couch. "Clint, look! It's back," she exclaimed, running into the living room.
"What's back?" mumbled the archer, rubbing his eyes. Delaney was excited about something, that was certain. He hadn't seen her this perky since before Ultron.
"The mark! It's back! They're alive, somehow. It's the same spot, same words, same writing! Has to be them," she babbled excitedly.
It was just then that Helen unlocked the apartment, running in. "Maximoff's awake," she breathed.
Clint suddenly looked very alert, mumbling something under his breath. Delaney hummed, looking at him. "Nothing. It's nothing. Just thinking out loud," he answered quickly.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Being the middle of the night, Delaney, Clint, Helen, and Wanda were the only ones crowded around the Cradle. Wanda was the first to move when Pietro stirred, sitting up. Delaney just so happened to be the first person he saw.
"Are you an angel?" he asked, confused. Delaney's hand went to her mark, which was in plain view. She was in shock for only a few seconds before she became angry. This man was her soulmate? Hell was so about to break loose.
"Don't you fucking die on me ever again!" she exclaimed angrily. She couldn't help her anger; not only had he put his twin sister—who turned out to be his platonic soulmate—through unimaginable pain, but also his soulmate who he hadn't met yet.
Pietro wasn't fazed by Delaney's outburst in a bit. He stood up, slowly reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry for that, princeza. I will try my best not to hurt you again," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he sat up.
"It had to be him, didn't it? I call bullshit!" Clint half-mumbled, being drowned out by Wanda fussing over Pietro, scolding him for putting herself and his soulmate through so much worry. "You better listen to her, Pietro. God knows what she's been through to be able to put up with you." Delaney laughed a little at that. Never had she imagined this ever in her life.
Helen was the last to react, letting it all sink in. "Well. It looks like things just got a little more complicated around here," she muttered. It seemed she'd be short an assistant for a while...
Translation - Serbian
princeza: princess