"Logic and Emotion"
By darthelwig
*** I own nothing. I'm just having fun. ***
Vision was, above all else, a creature of emotion. Certainly, it didn't seem that way to most people. His every word and mannerism spoke of control and logic. He was born to love, though. To care about life, to sustain it. How could he wish to save the world without caring about it at all? He wasn't a being of simple protocols and equations. He wasn't a machine. He had transcended his beginnings, gone far beyond what his creators had intended, thanks to the mind stone.
That powerful gem in his forehead had granted him a real, valid life. He had a heart, a mind, a soul, and a depth of purpose. He felt things strongly, yes, but he was strong in his determination to not let his emotions control him. Human beings were very susceptible to that, and he could see no good coming from it.
At first, control was not something that came easily. He dared not let go, even for a moment. He wondered sometimes if his emotions were stronger than those of a human, or if he was simply unused to them, and so they were overwhelming to him. There was no way for him to really know. He had no way to measure the emotions of others, and the mind stone's power was definitely capable of having granted him emotional extremes.
So he used his logic to balance his emotional turmoil, and usually it worked.
Sometimes he was saddened. Having to destroy Ultron had affected him deeply. Here was this unique being, in pain and alone, much like himself, but they couldn't let him go on living or everything else would die. It was a difficult choice to make. It was an even harder task to complete. But Vision loved life, and there was nothing he would not do for what he loved.
It hit him hard, though. He had needed to take some time away from everyone else in order to deal with his grief. He did not want to show them his weakness, his tears. His emotions were private, and his alone to deal with.
It was after rejoining the Avengers aboard the helicarrier that he realized there was a person aboard with grief to rival his own. Miss Maximoff grieved her brother with a ferocity he was intimately familiar with. It was only that grief, he realized, that had prevented her from picking up on his own extreme emotions as he carried her from the ruins of Novi Grad.
And that memory stuck vividly in his mind. The softness of her body as he cradled her to his chest, her face so close to his own... The experience had, even in the heat of battle, stirred lust within him. It had been unexpected, to say the least. Completely inappropriate timing, and he still didn't know what to do about that.
He didn't act on it, of course. She was grieving, and he wasn't a monster. But if his eyes lingered sometimes, well, he was only a man, after all
He discovered anger when his new teammates refused to acknowledge him as more than a robot. He spent a great deal of time at that point perfecting his "poker face." It would definitely not do to glare at anyone with the full force of his fury. He disappeared at times, going off on his own so that he could give vent to his frustrations in private.
At first, his anger was violent. It raged. He grappled with it until he became its master, refusing to let such a human weakness make him into a danger to those around him. He would not abuse his strength. He would protect life, even from himself. Slowly, it became easier, and his anger became less of a burden.
He realized then that he was getting better at controlling all of his emotions. He was becoming more human every day, and that pleased him.
Happiness is what kept him balanced while he dealt with controlling his negative emotions. He discovered what it was to smile. He sought out things that brought him pleasure. As the others gradually began to accept him, he even started to find enjoyment in their company. He participated in more group activities, and was pleased to find that doing so improved their treatment of him more quickly. He found friendship among them, and his love and protectiveness for them grew.
None more so than Miss Maximoff, who insisted he call her Wanda. She had accepted him first, and had accepted him fully, just as he was. He took pains to help her through her grief, as he felt a strong desire to be near her, and was rewarded with his first friendship. Her open, compassionate heart made him want her even more. He was careful to keep that from her, though it became the most difficult of his emotions to hide. The more time they spent together, the more he cared for her. The more he cared for her, the greater his lust grew. The more time they spent together, the more she touched him, as she was a rather tactile person, and the greater the chance that he would slip.
Logic dictated he should limit his time with her. Emotion refused to let him.
It wasn't until he held her in his arms as she lay injured on the ground that he realized what the emotion was that had been building inside of him. He was used to his emotions starting as extremes and slowly being tamed. This one had crept up, taken him by surprise, and as it blazed forth in his chest he wondered if she could pick up on it. He wondered if she felt the surprising depth of his love. He stared into her eyes, for once unaware of the chaos around them, overcome by the strength of it.
He felt the hot lick of anger as his attention was drawn away from her by Rhodes. He wanted nothing more than to keep gazing at the beautiful woman in his arms. He impatiently completed his task to shoot Sam Wilson out of the sky, ignoring the fact that doing so would probably kill the man. It had been ordered of him, and he complied so that he could turn his attention back to what was really important.
And he discovered horror as his shot missed and hit Rhodes instead.
He left her there, then, consumed by guilt. A new emotion for him. He had to check on Rhodes. The disbelief and horror on Mr. Stark's face made him feel even worse, and he realized that he had done exactly what he had feared. He had let emotion overwhelm him, and no good had come from it. He had, in his moment of human weakness, become the monster.
It was then that he began the process of learning control all over again. Horror, grief, misery, loneliness, guilt...he struggled to control the potent combination. And still, inside of him, was love. He couldn't rid himself of it. It lingered and colored everything else inside of him, and he discovered the truth of it. Love was both pleasure and pain.
But he could not bring himself to regret.