Hi everybody! So, I read somewhere that today is Scarlet Vision Appreciation Day on Tumblr and I figured I might as well write something because that's my OTP. It was originally going to be just a short 3,000 or 4,000 word one shot but as you can see it's more like 9,000 words. I feel like I should probably apologize for that.

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel

Enjoy!

~A~

Her Eyes

When the city of Sokovia had fallen out of the sky, he hadn't let Wanda fall with it.

Vision knew she wanted to; he had felt her despair when she realized that her brother, the only person she had left in the world, had fallen to the ground riddled with bullet holes. He sensed her relief, the feeling that she didn't need to grieve for him because she would be joining him soon enough. He had perceived these things in half a second-and he had not let her have her wish. Instead he had rescued her from the city even though he knew it wasn't what she wanted, because there was some part of him on a level that even he couldn't reach that refused to let her die. Not right now. Not like this.

When he'd woken up, created from a flash of lightning, the cradle of a genius scientist, an evil robot bent on world domination, and the minds of two visionary inventors with too much power for their own good, hers had been the first face he'd seen. The first mind he recognized, really; he could still remember how she had tried to look inside of his head when he was still in development. Perhaps that was why he'd formed a connection with her that he couldn't quite describe-and perhaps that was why he found himself compelled to save her.

Or perhaps it had something to do with her eyes. They were beautiful, of course; brown and thoughtful even when she was quiet-but there was something about them that he couldn't quite place. He could read her vulnerability quite plainly; she was young, afraid, out of her depth, and wracked with guilt. And yet, beneath all of that pain and sorrow there was a streak of what could only be described as true strength-the strength of someone who had been beaten by the world again and again and had always, always gotten back up to fight. It drew him to her, made him want to whisk her away from the world and everyone who wanted to hurt her without reason or logic. Of course there had been too much else to do in the build up to the battle in Sokovia so he hadn't had much of a chance to think about the way he felt until much later, when all was said and done and there wasn't a chance to change anything anyway.

He hadn't told anyone where he was going or why he was leaving-and he'd almost been too late. For a split second as he searched amid the flying debris and fallen apartment buildings without finding her, he thought he'd waited too long and she was already dead. But then he had seen a flash of red from inside the wreck of a bombed out bus mutilated in the fighting and he knew he'd found what he was looking for.

He wondered, even now, what she must have thought when she looked up with the wreck of Ultron's metal heart clutched in her hand to see him coming towards her like an angel of deliverance from on high. He wouldn't know; perhaps he wouldn't even understand. Even then he'd realized he wasn't human; her mind worked a different way than his did. It was fragile, easily broken-and yet, infinitely more beautiful than his could ever be.

He had picked her up gently, watching as she let go of the metal in her hand and it evaporated with the rest of the city. Then he had flown away, towards the helicarrier and the safety it provided. She had been soft and light in his arms, but she did not cry; still in shock, the grief hadn't sunk in yet the way it would in the days and months to follow. Rather, she looked up at him with an awe that was almost child like-and there were her eyes again, torn with grief and sorrow but still strong. Still the eyes of someone who wanted to fight, even if she didn't quite know it yet.

"I'm sorry." he said quietly. She didn't respond; he wondered if she'd even heard him.

Arriving at the helicarrier, he had set her down amid a crowd of medics, survivors, and SHIELD agents alike. It didn't matter that everyone was staring at him like something out of a science fiction novel (which, he supposed, he was); he had to make sure she would be taken care of. Almost immediately she was rushed away by a team of medical professionals who would clean out her cuts and give her tissues so she could wipe the tears from her eyes but would do nothing about the injuries she suffered inside. What could they do, really?

She'd looked back at him only once, eyes looking him over with an inscrutable expression before she was pulled away by the doctors. In that moment, he couldn't tell whether or not she hated him-and it didn't matter either way. He had saved her and she would be safe. That was all that mattered.

It wasn't until much later that she thanked him for what he did. He easily waved away her words, saying that he would have saved her anyway. And it was true; he would have.

Even then, he'd known that he would always save her.

~A~

Her Guilt

The nightmares came three weeks later.

They'd just gotten settled in Avengers Tower, where Tony had offered them a place to stay while the New Avengers facility in upstate New York was under construction-because technically they were all Avengers, unofficially or not. Steve immediately took charge of team bonding, packing everyone's days with mindless games of capture the flag and other icebreakers that wouldn't have been out of place in a kindergarten classroom. However, Vision knew he had an ulterior motive-namely, he wanted to distract everyone from what had happened in Sokovia. Especially Wanda.

Vision didn't think it worked that well. Sure, their newest member participated whenever she had to-but when she didn't she spent her days in her room staring at nothing and at night she cried silent tears. Because he didn't need sleep, he spent his nights wandering around the Tower, usually considering the perplexity of human existence-but now he spent his time on sentry duty outside her bedroom, trying to decide whether it would be prudent to go inside and comfort her for whatever it was worth. He was synthetic; he knew nothing about how to comfort someone. So instead he would stand outside for hours, telling himself that if she ever cried out he would go to her aid. But she never did; her tears were shed inwardly and gone by morning, though the dark circles and tired demeanor persisted long after the sun rose.

He noticed that, as the days and weeks went on, she didn't get better. In fact, she only got worse-becoming more and more withdrawn and looking more and more hopeless with every day that passed. He knew the others were starting to worry about her but none of them had any idea what to do. None of them knew what to do about a girl with the power to destroy a small town contained in her bare hands.

So Vision stepped up to the challenge one night, when the nightmares got so bad he was surprised Wanda hadn't woken up herself. He stood by her bedside for a moment or two, trying to gather his thoughts, and then slowly shook the sleeping girl awake. It took a couple of minutes to break her from the throes of her nightmare; then she came awake all at once, brown eyes frightened and brown hair wild. He saw how she looked about in confusion, as though she'd temporarily forgotten where she was. "It's all right now." he said softly, as though talking to a lost animal. "You're safe."

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was filled with confusion-and maybe a little distrust. Her eyes flitted past him to the open door, letting in the grey light of moonlight in the hallway outside.

"You cried out. I came to see if you were all right."

"That's very kind of you, but I'm fine, really-"

"That wasn't the first nightmare, was it?"

He'd surprised her. She stopped midsentence and bit her lip, looking up at him as if to say How much do you know? "...No. I guess not."

"How long have you had them?"

She looked away. "A few days. Not long." A lie. He waited quietly until she continued. "Or...maybe it's more like a few weeks. But they weren't always this bad."

"What do you dream about?"

She shrugged and laughed mirthlessly. "The usual things, I suppose. The night my parents died, the day Pietro died...only this time it's worse, because I see them dying and I stand there, frozen, even though I have the power to save them. It's the same thing every night...but it always seems to hurt more and more." She seemed to shut down, as if deciding she'd said too much.

"I've heard it is natural to feel grief after the loss of a loved one."

"Is it normal for it to feel like it's tearing you apart?"

"You will feel better, given time." She didn't respond; she'd probably heard the same see through advice more than once. Vision couldn't imagine the thoughts going through her head; all he knew was that he couldn't leave her alone. Not in the state she was in, so she could slip back into the grasp of another nightmare. "Follow me." He stood up and padded quietly into the silent hallway, smiling slightly when he heard her get up and follow him after a minute of watching incredulity. A clock on the wall read 2:37 AM.

In the kitchen, he pulled out a chair for her to sit in at the table while he put some tea on to boil, flavoring it carefully with chamomile-that was supposed to be a calming agent. "You don't need to make me tea-" she started but he pretended not to hear her.

"Chamomile is soothing for the nerves. You will feel much better-and perhaps you will be able to rest more peacefully."

She sighed and added, nearly inaudibly, "I don't think so."

She drank her tea in silence for a little while, while Vision watched her curiously. She seemed barely there; her mind was obviously busy elsewhere, probably thinking about her brother and what she had lost. "How long have you known?" she asked quietly, toying with the rim of the ceramic cup he'd found in the back of the cupboard. It had come from some convention in Los Angeles-obviously one of Tony's.

"A few weeks now." he replied just as quietly. "You seemed as though you wanted to work through it on your own...but there's only so many nights you can stay sleepless. The others are starting to worry."

"That's very sweet of them...but they should know that I won't fit in with them. With this." She gestured to the entire expanse of the Tower-the high ceilings, electric lights that glittered from every surface, and the soft leather recliners in front of the television that were perfect for an afternoon nap. "A month ago, I'd never seen this much luxury in one place in my entire life. A single piece of furniture could have sold for enough money to buy...us food for six months." Her voice thickened slightly, as though remembering that the 'us' had been split apart. With a small sigh, she pushed her cup away-still half full. "I'm...not thirsty anymore. But I appreciate the effort, Vizh." She stood up and turned to leave, fingernails digging into her palm.

She'd almost reached the doorway when Vision said "It's not your fault."

She stopped short, shoulders rigid, and for a moment he thought he'd done something wrong. "What?"

"What happened to your brother-to your parents, to your country-was not your fault. Nor was it Mr. Stark's. They were all victims of circumstance. You should not blame yourself."

For a moment, she was very, very quiet. "How can you say that? If I had just been thinking clearly, just for one second...if I hadn't made Mr. Stark see his worst nightmare...if he'd never built Ultron…" Her voice died in her throat, but she forced herself to go on. "If he'd never built Ultron, then there would never have been a fight in the first place and my brother would still be alive." She was weighed down with guilt; the same burden every member of the team struggled with every single day. However, she could only see the negative things she'd done-which made her load ten times worse.

"Vengeance is an ugly thing, Miss Maximoff. It controls people, consumes them, tears their lives apart...but it does not make them killers. You are not a killer. Yes, you made a mistake...but so does everyone. No human is perfect; it is simply not in the genetic coding. Humans are designed to fail and to make mistakes...but even that can be forgiven, provided you stand up and make amends, to the best of your ability. And you have done that. With every day you are here, every day you are an Avenger, you make amends. And what happened to your brother was Ultron's fault, not yours. Stop carrying his burden on your shoulders. He is at peace now-but you can only move on if you can let him go." He took a few steps towards her, cautiously, taking her arm and leading her to the couch in the den so he could gauge her reactions.

A silent sob wracked her body. "What if I can't? It's been eleven years and...I can barely remember my parents. Whenever I try to picture their faces...they look blurred. Things don't make sense. They don't add up. I don't want to forget my brother, too."

"You'll never forget him. Even if you may forget the curve of his face, the sound of his laugh...his essence, that of the person he was and the brother you knew for your entire life, will always be with you. He will always be with you, if not in body-but you must let him go. You must allow yourself to move on, to live for yourself and begin again as an Avenger-not to forget, but to forgive. But he will always be your brother, no matter how much time passes."

The silent sniffles turned to heaving sobs and Vision held her, not minding that she soaked his outfit with her tears. For what felt like hours she cried every single tear she'd held in since the funeral, since that terrible day in Sokovia when she'd lost everything that had ever been dear to her. And still he held her. Still he handed her tissues and gingerly wiped the tears from her eyes. Still he helped her stand and walked her back to her bedroom when she no longer had any tears left to cry.

"Thank you." she said quietly as he lingered in the doorway, watching carefully as she climbed beneath the duvet. Her eyes were still red from crying but she seemed lighter somehow, as though she'd gotten rid of part of the invisible weight that held her down. "And...Miss Maximoff seems too formal. I think it's best if you call me Wanda."

"As you wish...Wanda." He tried the name out cautiously, enjoying the way it rolled from his tongue. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, even with tears on her face and bloodshot eyes. "And...it was of no consequence. If you ever need me, I will be here." He left her sleeping peacefully, for the first time in weeks.

He never saw her like that again-that vulnerable and that sad. But he couldn't quite get the picture out of his mind. The charming, intelligent, and caring young woman who sparred him so enthusiastically in training couldn't be the same one who had allowed him to hold her as she worked through her grief in the only way she knew how. But there she was, another side to her multifaceted personality, another chink in her nearly impenetrable armor. He never thought she was weak; rather, her moments of weakness enticed him, made him want to hold and protect her whenever he could. He gained a new kind of respect for the girl with so many faces, who smiled during the daytime to hide the nighttime tears. Although the nightmares still came, they came with less frequency and intensity. Whenever she needed him, he was always there with tea.

~A~

Her Kindness

Almost as soon as Clint and Laura heard that Wanda no longer had any kind of family whatsoever, she was immediately absorbed into the extended Barton clan. Vision suspected that at first this may have had to do with the fact that Pietro Maximoff had died in service to Clint, but soon they were taking care of her not because they had to but because they wanted to. And he knew that it meant the world to Wanda that she had a place where she truly felt welcomed-where she could truly have a family.

After a few months, it was no longer out of the ordinary for Wanda to watch Clint's children, Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel, for a few hours while Clint and Laura got dinner and went to the movies-or even simply go to the Barton farm for a meal. Lila especially adored her, treating her like the big sister she had never had. Vision always volunteered to drive up to the farm when the outing was finished; he found he truly enjoyed the peace and quiet it afforded him, past acre upon acre of flowering meadows.

One day, Clint pulled him inside the split level farmhouse before he could so much as raise a hand to knock. Vision barely had time to say "I've come to pick up Wanda-" before Clint silenced him with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Yeah, I know. But come on-you've got to see this first." He followed him to the doorway that led to the living room-and it didn't take long for him to see what the retired Avenger meant.

Wanda was seated on the couch, reading a book to Cooper and Lila. They sat on either side of her; Lila was lying down completely with her head on Wanda's lap, listening to the story intently while the older girl absentmindedly braided her brown hair in a simple braid down her back in between flipping the pages. Vision couldn't help smiling, for a reason he couldn't quite explain; Wanda looked calm, peaceful, and...happy. Happier than he'd seen her in a long time.

"Isn't it sweet?" Laura said, joining them as she finished washing a ceramic plate with a border of cardinals ringing its outer edge. "She's so good with the kids. They both adore her."

"I hope you don't mind if we borrow her a few more times this summer." Clint said quietly, careful not to disturb the readers in the other room. "There's lots of good movies coming out."

"Of course not. I'm sure she'll love that." He couldn't take his eyes off her; so different from the shy, introverted girl who was making steps to assimilate to the team but still tended to wander the hallways like a ghost. It was like she became a different person entirely when she was around the children.

Wanda happened to look up and see them in the doorway; she blushed red and closed the book quickly, giving him an almost apologetic smile as she said "We'll have to finish it next time, okay?" Don't look sorry; not when it obviously makes you so happy.

Lila threw her arms around her waist and hugged tightly. "You'll come back, won't you? Really soon."

She laughed. "Yes, as soon as I can."

Vision was tempted to ask her about it on the drive back; what changed when she stepped through the doors to the farmhouse? But he didn't say anything; it was her secret to keep, if she wanted it. Although he suspected it had to do with a sense of belonging, a sense that she needed; a sense she couldn't find at the Avengers base, not even with him.

~A~

Her Patience

Every day, Vision is struck anew by just how complex humans are. They've taken their ability to evolve and used it to their full advantage, creating things both wonderful and terrible: buildings so tall they penetrate the cloud layer, vaccines to cure any disease, vehicles that run faster than sound itself...and yet, besides the things he can see, there are so many other things at play. Some things, some concepts, he can't name or describe: anger, pleasure, jealousy, hatred, love…

So many new things that are uniquely human.

So many emotions, feelings, that he will never understand. He's an android; his heart, his mind, and his entire body are made of the same basic components: synthetic. Cold. He had never experienced...emotions before, and he didn't think he ever would. And yet, he wanted to understand as best he could. If he was going to protect humanity, he figured he would need to know as much about it as he possibly could. So he gathered information the only way he knew how to.

He questioned things. A lot. He immersed himself in human culture, experiencing what he could and reading up on what he couldn't. He asked whoever would listen to explain what hatred was, or disgust, or loneliness. He tried to understand, even when he couldn't, what humans felt-and how their emotions led them to live such reckless, terrifying, beautiful lives. He simply couldn't understand how vengeance could consume a person or survivor's guilt could become a lifetime's burden...why someone would be willing to risk everything they knew and cared about simply in pursuit of love. He knew about these things in theory, of course, but he had never experienced them himself. And he doubted he ever would.

Everyone in the Avengers compound reacted to his questioning in different ways. Natasha was helpful for a time, until she started getting annoyed with him and finally began directing him to other people instead. Steve, Sam, and Rhodey tried their best but they usually ended up confusing him more than they helped.

Just like always, Wanda was a different story.

"Wanda, what is love?" he asked her one night. The team had just finished watching Titanic; although it was a very good movie, he hadn't understood why Rose would risk her comfortable home life and social standing to pursue a boy she had only met once or twice-and why Jack would risk his very freedom just to be with her instead.

She took a moment to think about it; obviously, it wasn't a question she was used to hearing. "That's a tough question, Vizh. Love isn't really the kind of thing you can explain."

"Try. Please."

"Okay…" She took another minute to think up her answer. "It's...sort of a warm feeling that you get in your heart when you think about someone that you care about. You...feel happy when you're around them and you enjoy their company. You would do anything to keep them safe and happy, no matter what. Even if it's illogical...even if it's impractical. Their happiness means everything to you."

He thought about that for a second: caring about a person so much that their happiness became more important than your own well being. "You loved your brother, didn't you?"

She looked away, worrying the edge of the couch throw pillow between her fingers. "Yes. I loved Pietro very much."

He knew he needed to phrase his next words very carefully; the last thing he wanted was to make her sad or upset. "But when he died...it hurt you deeply. What if you love someone, but they do not love you back-or they love you, but then you lose them? It results in sadness and heartache."

"If you love someone, that pain is worth it to you. And you would do it all again, the good and the bad, the hard and the easy, even if it meant that things turned out the exact same way and you still got hurt, if it meant you still felt their love." She shook her head, sighing. "I'm sorry I'm not making much sense. I'm trying the best I can so it makes sense to you-"

"You're doing just fine, Wanda." he replied. "I believe I do understand it, on some sort of rudimentary level. So...love is illogical, and impractical, but if you live without it you never really live at all?"

She gave him one of her rare smiles. "Yes, I suppose that's one way of thinking about it."

"Have you ever been in love?"

He couldn't miss the way her body temperature rose just slightly or the way heat seemed to creep up the back of her neck. "No, not like that." He didn't press; he didn't feel the need to. Maybe he would never feel love himself, but at least now he could try to understand how it felt.

After that, Wanda became his go to for any and all questions related to human emotions and customs. She carefully explained hate and disgust to him, how fear was worrying about a possible outcome of an event that could cause harm to you or a loved one, how loneliness came when you were alone with no one to talk to. She tried (more than once) to explain the concept of doors and privacy, why humans showed such obvious displays of affection no matter where they were, and why racism and prejudice were still so present in the everyday world. Occasionally he was confused by her explanation or had to ask for clarification but she quickly became one of his closest confidantes; not simply because she answered his questions again and again without complaint but because she seemed to like to. She became his link to a world he would never truly know, and she played her role as ambassador perfectly.

~A~

Her Laugh

The first time he made her laugh, it had been an accident. He'd made some offhanded remark about how Sam was a very good man and an extremely talented Avenger, but he simply could not seem to remember to pick up his VA flyers that he distributed whenever they were at a public event. Vision would find them everywhere: in the mornings when he came down for breakfast and coffee with the team, in the screening room when they tried to watch movies, even in the Quinjet when they were suiting up for missions. He hadn't thought his comment had been terribly funny-at least, he hadn't intentionally been trying to make it seem that way, but Wanda laughed anyway.

Her laugh caught him off guard yet again, because it revealed that side of her she was always careful to keep hidden; it dipped into her well of happiness that was so often dammed up. He felt like she'd afforded him a rare opportunity to look through the chinks in her armor at what lay beneath: a girl who smiled and laughed whenever she wasn't plagued by grief, guilt, fear, or some combination of the three.

It enticed him-and he became obsessed in coaxing it out again.

He went to Sam and Natasha for advice because they seemed the most adept at making people laugh. They both advised him to stay away from joke books and the Internet, an approach he took with some trepidation but nevertheless; as it was, what lines they gave him to start with worked well enough on their own. He was careful never to use two in a row or to place them too near each other in a conversation; they worked best when she wasn't expecting it, when he was able to catch her off guard and her laugh would bubble out before she could stop it.

Soon she stopped trying so hard to hide it from him.

Perhaps that was when he became obsessed with the idea of dual identity-that people could be one way in one setting and act completely differently in another setting. Perhaps that was when he started trying to make her come out of her shell, to break down the glass wall she'd built between her and the rest of her teammates after the battle of Sokovia; he'd seen the light behind her eyes and the happiness beneath her sorrow, and he was determined not to let it slip away.

~A~

'His' Smile

Wanda had a smile that was reserved solely for him. She'd never told him so, relaxing in the compound between missions or during the aftermath of one of their raids, but Sam insisted it was true.

He was trying to show Vision the ins and outs of the brand new Playstation 4 Tony had installed for them but the android's eyes kept flicking from the plastic controller in his hand to the girl on the window seat on the other side of the room, diligently reading a book. Almost as if she realized he was looking she looked up from her book and smiled at him before she went back to skimming the pages-and he went back to his impromptu tutorial.

"Were you even listening at all?" Sam huffed in fake annoyance. While Vision shrugged helplessly he followed the android's line of sight and suddenly said "Oh. Well, that makes sense then."

"What makes sense?" he asked, confused.

"Why you're not paying attention to me. I didn't realize she was there."

"Why would Miss Maximoff have anything to do with whether or not I am focusing on your tutorial?" He didn't know why he kept calling her Miss Maximoff in front of the other members of the team; when they were alone together he always called her Wanda, and perhaps on some subconscious level he wanted to keep the two separate. When he and her were together it was as though they created their own private infinity that no one else could penetrate; perhaps he simply didn't want to expose that to the rest of the world before he could figure out what it really meant himself.

Sam looked like he was going to say something and then thought better of it, saying instead "You know, she only smiles that way when you're around."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Wanda smiled often, more and more as the months passed and her grief lessened. Whether or not he was present didn't affect that.

Sam shook his head and grinned a smile that Vision didn't quite trust. "You're really naive, aren't you?"

"I suppose you could say that. Why?"

He just laughed. "You'll understand when you're older." With that he went back to showing him how to install video games and he wouldn't change topics, no matter how many times Vision asked him to clarify that last statement.

Vision didn't stop thinking about it for days afterwards. Did she really reserve that smile only for him?

And what did it say about him if he really hoped Sam was right?

~A~

She Puts Up With His Cooking

Vision had never been a brilliant cook. He had never even been a good one. Because he was made of synthetic tissue he'd never eaten anything in his life-and every time he tried to make dinner for the rest of the team, something invariably went wrong. Sometimes he overcooked the meat, other times he burned the potatoes, and occasionally he let the ice cream sit out too long and it turned into a congealing mess in the bottom of its plastic container.

Sam was personally working on a petition to have him removed from the kitchen rotation, effective immediately.

Natasha ate whatever he made with a smile on her face and then spit it out into her napkin as soon as she found a good opportunity.

But not Wanda. Wanda always ate what he cooked, no matter what color or consistency. Sometimes she could only manage one or two bites, but she would always smile at him and say he was making progress. Sometimes she would even give him pointers, and she always helped him clean up afterwards. When they were finished and whatever mess he'd managed to create had been properly disposed of they would sometimes sit around the kitchen table and talk for hours until Steve or Natasha came to break up the party and remind them that they had training bright and early the next morning.

She never seemed to mind-no matter how badly he screwed things up. It meant more to him than he would like to admit, even to himself.

~A~

Her Guitar

Sometimes he would hear her working at her guitar for hours at a time, coaxing her fingers into the right shape and placing them in the right spot for chord after chord and song after song. The music flowed from her fingers; she never needed to worry about how the notes would land or how they would sound. Occasionally she would get stuck on a note, but she would simply drill it over and over again until she finally got it.

She played away her emotions: her fear, her pain, her sadness. And he would listen as her willing audience.

Occasionally she would invite him inside to watch her play and he would watch in willing rapture as her fingers glided over the strings, strong and perfect. He was always awed at the music she produced with so little effort, but at the same time he wasn't surprised at all; there were no limits to what she could do and what she could create. Humans were creative geniuses and Wanda was no exception.

~A~

She Can Quote All of Star Wars From Memory

Episodes 4-7 that is. Not Episodes 1-3. She thinks they're terrible, just like everyone else on the team.

Star Wars was one of the first movies the team watched after the Battle of Sokovia because apparently it was an Avengers tradition and she and Vision couldn't be full members of the team until they marathoned all of them-which she did, and she quickly became hooked. He lost track of how many times she watched them in the months that followed, but soon she could quote them by memory all the way through. Natasha tested her once; she passed with flying colors.

Even for a human, she never ceased to amaze him.

~A~

She Doesn't Let Him Go Easy on Her During Training

Just before their first round of team sparring, Steve had pulled him aside and told him "Go a little easier on Maximoff, okay? She's still coming to terms with her powers and I don't want anyone getting hurt." He'd agreed, of course; back then, they'd been under the impression that the Infinity Stone in his forehead made him invincible.

How wrong they were.

Wanda had been waiting for him, tying her brown hair back in a neat ponytail and eyes bright with excitement. "Ready to spar?" she asked, red magic appearing around her fingertips as though preparing for the match.

He wouldn't have been able to not smile at her, even if he'd tried. "Of course."

Natasha blew the whistle that signalled the start of the three minute matches; off they went. He shot a beam from the Mind Gem halfheartedly, giving Wanda plenty of time to dodge and counter it with a red shield. In return, she sent tendrils of red magic straight for his head; he had to duck to avoid them and they quickly disbanded into thin air. "You're going easy on me!"

"I don't want to hurt you accidentally." He didn't think he'd be able to live with himself if he did that.

She rolled her eyes. "You won't. I can take care of myself, you know."

He knew that very well, more than she was probably aware of. "I know you can, but I want to be sure."

"Everyone already treats me like a child as it is. I didn't think that needed to extend to the sparring ring?" Her tone was light and easy, but he could sense the underlying tension in her voice-and that, more than anything else, was what encouraged him to give her a chance. She'd been waiting for a chance to prove herself for who knew how long-and she was alert and ready, obviously not in any danger of distraction.

He smirked. "Perhaps not. Give me your best effort."

She'd responded in kind, using her magic to distract him, manipulate him, make him look in one direction while she attacked from another. He didn't mind; they vanished harmlessly before they could do any damage-and besides, he liked the way they felt: warm and inviting, meant for play and not for combat. In turn, he'd given it his best effort-not his full intensity, there was no need for that-but he gave her the same challenge she gave him. When time was called they were both smiling; she was slightly winded but quickly revived after a drink of water. "See?" she said triumphantly. "I told you I could handle it."

"I never said you couldn't." he replied. "You're capable of more than you know." They had to rotate to the next set of partners so he didn't have time to exchange any more playful banter-but he didn't miss the way Steve and Natasha were talking together on the other side of the room, glancing over at him and Wanda every so often; or the way Wanda looked back at him with an almost unreadable expression on her face.

Yes, she could most assuredly take care of herself-but that didn't mean there wasn't still some small part of him that still thought she needed protecting: from the world, from him, even, perhaps, from herself and her own abilities.

And as time wore on, she became more and more powerful, and he began to realize that her abilities would soon overtake his, his worries only increased. One mistake was all it would take for the public to fear her. Conversely, one mistake was all it would take to kill her. She was so powerful, so capable-and yet too often he thought people didn't look past her powers to the girl underneath. To them she was the Scarlet Witch and nothing more, while he knew that was the furthest thing from the truth.

~A~

She Believes in Happy Endings

It didn't take long for Vision to realize that Wanda hated sad movies.

Of course, she had no problem watching all of the human interest stories Steve, Rhodey, and Sam all had soft spots for and she even sat through The Fault in Our Stars per Sam's request. But after watching movies with endings that were downright depressing that ended with not a shred of hope in sight she often became very quiet and withdrawn, often spendings hours in her room.

It didn't take long for Vision to ask her why.

Her answer, when it came, was really quite simple: "There's always so much death and depression in the world as it is. Isn't the point of movies to make us feel better about our lives, not worse?" She thought for a moment and then added "Life...doesn't always give out happy endings. Not right away. For a while, when I was younger, I thought there was no such thing. When you spend day and night on the street, hungry and afraid year after year, you can lose hope pretty quickly. I lost hope-but losing hope is dangerous, because as soon as you choose not to live and not to try you are lost. But I was lucky, because before my parents died they told us time and time again that we have a choice not to accept the future that life thrusts upon us; no matter where we are, in what circumstances, it's up to us to find our happy ending. That's why we volunteered for the experiments, you know; I thought it would give us glory, make us heroes. I thought Sokovia would sing our praises the way America sings Steve's; I thought we would get the happy ending we'd always dreamed of. But instead...it only led to more bad things." She trailed off, picking at the edge of her white bedspread; Vision didn't think she would speak again but she added "But it also led me here. I regret Pietro's death terribly, but the people here have become the closest thing to a family I've had in a very long time."

Family. The word left a distraught longing in his heart that he couldn't quite name or describe. "So would you say you've found your happy ending?"

"No. I'm still searching for it. But this...where I am right now isn't so bad. And maybe it stays that way for a long time or maybe it all falls apart tomorrow...it doesn't matter. I'm always going to keep trying to find that happy ending." Something in her eyes flashed, and he could see the strength running through them more clearly than he ever had before. Even after all of this, after everything that had happened to her, she still refused to give up. It was...amazing. It was a power that only a few could claim. And that, of course, was why she was an Avenger.

He didn't realize that he loved her that night, of course, but her words spoke to something deep inside of him-to the part of him that wasn't exactly synthetic but not exactly human, the part that had wanted a family and desperately wanted to know love. For the first time, she made him think about his own happy ending-even if he wasn't exactly sure what that meant yet.

~A~

He Would Do Anything-Even Kill-For Her

The first time he ever felt out of control, he felt that way because of her.

Vision had always known that he was powerful. He knew the gem in his head granted him nearly omnipotent abilities that made him far more powerful than anyone else on the team (except for Wanda perhaps, but that was beside the point), which was why he needed to use his abilities to protect those who needed it. Namely, humanity itself. Losing control was not an option, not when there were so many people counting on him. So many people could be hurt if he even had a momentary lapse in judgment.

If he had ever slept or had nightmares, he would have dreamt about it. His mind would have tortured him with dreams, over and over, of losing control and killing everyone he loved. Of watching Wanda die in his arms because of him, to watch the light leave her eyes and know that it was her fault.

The mission had gone to hell the second they got off the Quinjet and realized that the ex Hydra men they had come to apprehend were more than ready for them. They had protection against him; he couldn't phase through them and had to resort to more...bloodier methods of putting them down. But never killing. Steve said that was the number one rule on any mission: no killing unless there was no other choice.

He hadn't been watching Wanda as well as he should have. He should have known she could run into trouble; her abilities made her a formidable opponent but she wasn't trained in close hand to hand combat. But Natasha had been with her and he'd thought things would be fine.

He'd gone with Sam for half a second to investigate the third floor of the warehouse-and then he'd felt Wanda's pain. How he knew she needed his help remained a mystery even to him but he'd left Sam without a word of warning, phasing through three floors of drywall to see that Natasha was nowhere in sight and one of the men they were fighting had managed to pin Wanda to a wall and try to choke her. She was struggling, but his protections made it so she couldn't get a hex out-and she was losing fight fast.

He'd felt a moment of red hot fire that had surged through every vein in his body and every nerve in his head, blocking out all thought and rationality as he'd pulled him off of her with one movement, throwing him into the wall on the other side of the room. While the man groaned with pain he'd punched him in the face to keep him down-harder than he needed to, feeling a grim satisfaction as the man's blood rolled down his fingertips. He wanted to hurt him, wanted to kill him for trying to hurt his teammate-who felt like so much more than that.

And he very nearly had. He would have, if Steve hadn't found him and snapped him out of it. As abruptly as it had come the rage monster vanished, leaving only Vision behind-but not before he'd broken every bone in her would-be assailant's hand.

He and Steve had looked at the man for a minute, where he lay writhing in pain almost pathetically. A deep chill of foreboding ran down Vision's spine at what could have happened, even when Steve just said "Remember, you have to control it." and went to make sure Wanda was all right.

Vision had to take serious measures to make sure the monster stayed where it was when he saw that welts had formed on the pale skin of her neck. She insisted they didn't hurt much but he knew she was lying-and he blamed himself. He hadn't been paying attention and he'd almost lost her. Next time he had to be ready. He couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice.

He realized she had power over him, perhaps more than he cared to admit. He didn't understand what was happening to him, when his feelings toward her had grown from mere friendship to something...deeper. Something he thought an android could never feel.

Tell me, Wanda: is this what love is like?

But then again, how could she possibly feel the same way?

~A~

He Can't Seem to Stop Protecting Her

He didn't tell anyone what he felt; no one talked about what had happened that night and eventually he was able to talk himself into forgetting it had happened at all. But that didn't change the fact that he looked after Wanda on all of their missions-sometimes she knew about it, more often she didn't. He honestly didn't know why he did it: was it to protect Wanda from outside forces, outside forces from her abilities, or her from herself?

He failed again in Lagos. He wasn't there; it hadn't been a high enough priority mission for him to be called along. If he could help it, Steve tried to keep the team small; there was less of a chance of collateral damage and after what happened in Sokovia, it was a valid concern.

"I'll be fine." Wanda told him before she left, giving him that smile he loved so much as she hugged him before she joined the others on the Quinjet. "It's only for a couple of days. Besides, it'll be nice to not have you breathing down my neck for a while."

"I will be waiting for you to return." he replied. "But I am sure you will be just fine."

That smile was the last one he'd gotten from her for a very long time.

~A~

It had taken a long time for the news about Lagos to sink in, even with the televisions on 24/7 and his synthetic brain working overtime to try and process this strange turn of events. The global community couldn't think Wanda was responsible for the explosion; heaven knew she'd saved more people on the ground than she'd killed in the bomb. But, just as he'd feared, people were frightened-and they needed a scapegoat.

Wanda hadn't been smiling when the team came back home, defeated. She'd sat on her bed alone for hours, staring at a wall or compulsively watching the same news broadcasts over and over again. He'd tried to tell her it wasn't healthy, but she wouldn't listen.

Eventually he'd just held her for hours, the way he had the night so long ago when they were both strangers and she was crying over the loss of her brother. She didn't cry today though; he could feel the fear choking her. His warrior, his genius, his muse, his friend...And in that moment, he would have done anything to take away the pain and cleanse her of her fear.

He just wanted to keep her safe. He wanted the people of the world to know they didn't need to be frightened of her; he wanted them to see her the way he did. To see the Wanda he saw, the Wanda he was slowly falling for no matter how hard he tried to stop himself or how many times he tried to convince himself it wasn't right. That was why he kept her inside the Avengers facility like Mr. Stark had told him to; not for any power play but because she was his friend and he thought it was the best thing for her.

If he had known how it would dull the spark in her eyes, look at him distrustfully (as though she was scared he might hurt her if she tried to leave, even thought that was never his intention), and do whatever she could to avoid him, he wouldn't have done it. But as it was, he just wanted to protect her. And no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to stop. He was trying to look out for the entire world; that was what he told himself at least.

But more and more these days it felt like he was just trying to look out for her.

~A~

He Needs Her More Than She Needs Him

For the longest time he had thought (rather pompously, he'll admit, but he'd thought it nonetheless) that he protected Wanda because she needed him. He protected her on missions, talked with her when they had a free night, and tried to do what little things he could to fill the hole in her heart her brother had left behind him.

But in all that time he never realized (or maybe he had, but just hadn't let himself remember it) that he needed her. She didn't need him at all, really; the others would have looked after her just as capably as he had. But he needed her to teach him how to be human; to teach him what it meant to have a friend and be a friend, to love and be loved, to find the happy ending no matter what. And now, he's all too painfully aware that it's too late. She's gone; Steve came back for her and broke her out of prison. She's free, which he's happy about of course-but she's also miles and miles away. He might never see her again.

The airport battle had been the last straw for him. As soon as he'd heard her cry out he had run to her aid, even though they were on opposite sides of the conflict. Holding her there, in the middle of the battlefield, exchanging apologies for mistakes they'd both made, he thought she had never looked more beautiful-even with the dirt on her face and her hair mussed. He had never...loved her more.

Because that's what it was. He's sure of it. Somehow, even though it should be impossibly, he has fallen completely and irrevocably in love with Wanda Maximoff.

And that love made him careless and foolish. He was paying attention to her, not to the others-and now Rhodey has to walk with a metal leg. He'd had to get away at that point; it was too much too quickly. He'd been thinking about her and he'd become distracted, and everyone else had paid the price.

How had this happened? How had it gotten to this point? How had he not known, from the first moment he chose to rescue her in Sokovia, that every conversation, every smile, every laugh, every...feeling...had been building towards this? How could he have been so naive? How could he have let it control him? How could he have disregarded his programming so blatantly and let love get in the way? He's not human; he's a machine, not man. He shouldn't be thinking this way, not about a human girl.

And yet...he can't help it. He can't stop thinking about her. Everything he sees brings up new memories: her favorite coffee mug, waiting in the cupboard as if just waiting for her to pick it up; her guitar, waiting for her to come and play it; the picture of her and Vision she keeps under her pencil box. They were in New York for a day sightseeing and she'd insisted Steve take their picture inside Central Park; she's kept it ever since. She looks...radiant in that picture. And he looks...happy. So naive; he has no idea that this will end him.

He will never know if she loves him the same way he will always love her. Maybe if he gives it time the feelings will go away-although he truly doubts that. Love doesn't just go away; it's not something you can dispose of like trash. You can push it into a corner, box it up, and forget about it, but it doesn't go away.

He can't forget about her, this dark haired and bright eyed impossibility who did what no one else should be able to do. And he loves her; with every day that passes and she doesn't come back, his belief is more and more affirmed.

Vision is surprised to find that the more he thinks about it, the more he doesn't regret it. The more he thinks about who he's hurt and what he's done...the more he realizes he wouldn't trade it, any of it, for a single second he and Wanda have spent together. Yes, it's ridiculous and improbable...but he loves her, and love is always worth it, like she told him so long ago.

She doesn't need him at all, but he needs her. He needs her light and her happiness, her darkness, her vulnerability, her strength, the way she tries desperately not to hurt others because she knows she's far more powerful than they can ever hope to be...her fear, her guilt when she makes mistakes. So like his own, connected by the Mind Stone that grants them shared abilities.

And yet, this bond they have is far more than just over a stone. There's something else to it, something more. Something rare, precious, and lovely.

He needs her-and he let her go. He realized too late he loved her. Now it's too late.

But he doesn't regret it. Not one single moment. In fact, if he could do it all again he would-no matter what the outcome: because that is love. And love is illogical and improbable, defying any laws of physics or the way the universe works, but it is worth it because he loved her-even for just a year. Far too short a time, but long enough nonetheless.

He loved her. And that has done more for him than he can possibly describe.

This is probably going to be a two shot at some point but I don't know exactly when I'll update it next; I still have a lot to write for Picking Up the Pieces and I'm writing things on the side too.

Review, follow, and favorite! Have a great day :)