Author's note:
This was written before the Infinity War trailer was released. I have no plans to alter it to fit with the events of the trailer. I meant this to be a Scarlet Witch/Vision story, not necessarily an accurate Infinity War story. How the Infinity Stone is taken is not as important as Wanda's reaction.
The mind stone hummed audibly as it crossed the scorched earth, floating towards Thanos' open palm. When it touched his skin, he closed his fist around the gem, proud of his easy victory, and turned back to his ship. A smug grin spread across his stony face. His two waif-like attendants stood as silent sentinels on either side of the ship's door. As he neared, they slunk back into the darkness.
The instant the glowing stone had left the Vision's forehead, he had started to fall out of the sky. Instead of plummeting, his body wafted to the ground like an autumnal leaf. When he reached the earth he was still and quiet.
Wanda dropped to her knees at the Vision's side and grabbed his hand. His skin was pale and cool to the touch. It crumpled under the slight pressure. The synthoid's entire body had taken on the appearance of brittle wax paper with threads of oxidizing vibranium running here and there. Wanda touched his face gently, that unique face that she had grown quite fond of. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the clear blue sky but there was no life left there, only clouded glass. The tiny clockwork of gears that normally spun behind his pupils had rusted in place; unmoving.
While the rest of the remaining Avengers threw everything they had at their enemy, the Scarlet Witch was rooted to the ground, her eyes fixed on her fallen friend and lover. She had felt this kind of death before when her brother was lost.
When Pietro died, a part of her heart went with him, leaving a jagged ruin in its wake. The parts that had remained were fractured and raw. Over time, the Vision had helped her knit them back together but seeing his lifeless body tore the wounds apart again.
Wanda breathed in her fury. With that breath, she called her power, drawing in energy from the raw earth around her on the ground. Sparks danced on her fingertips and her hair whipped wildly around her head forming a halo. A red glow surrounded her entire form as she rose up, levitating a few yards above the ground.
She turned to face Thanos who had arrogantly turned his back on the wounded party. She glared at him with eyes that had bled to solid black. She reached out one clawed hand in his direction.
"THANOS!" She cried. Her voice was a feral scream echoed by an inhuman shriek.
Thanos halted as if being held by an invisible force. He looked back over his shoulder, arching a brow. Wanda raked her nails through the air.
The smug look on Thanos' face changed to one of confusion with a hint of shock in a blink of an eye. He brought one massive hand to his cheek where a single onyx drop was forming. He looked for a few seconds at the inky black blood smeared on his fingers. He was in awe. Somehow this mere human had managed to do what literal gods could not: she had wounded him. He quickly retreated into the safety of his ship, which promptly disappeared into the clouds.
Her target gone, Wanda sank back toward the ground until she was mere inches above the dirt. She turned back to the Vision's body, concentrating on the very minerals in the soil. Her aura burned a crimson fire around her.
The ground split and a cloud of dirt and grass swirled around Wanda and the Vision, obscuring the two from view. Tiny stones whipped past Wanda's face and hands, leaving their marks on her bare skin. Droplets of her blood mingled with the swirling veil of debris.
Finally, with her energy spent, Wanda dropped back to the ground as the cloud dissipated. Her bloody palms rested on the Vision's chest. Tears ran down her cheek.
There was a wet, crackling sound and the Vision's once still form stirred. His hollow chest swelled and he curled to his side, choking painfully. He spat out mouthfuls of dirt and blood.
Wanda looked on, awestruck. She willed his eyes to meet hers. When they finally did, they were no longer the mechanical wonders they had been. Instead they were a clear icy blue. His skin has changed color once again. No longer was he pale and waxy, nor was he his former glowing red hue. Instead, his skin had transformed into a warm, sun-kissed gold with a smattering of tiny freckles.
The Vision was alive, and, for the first time, very much human.