Hello Again, My Honeys

I just couldn't seem to leave this alone. I've always wanted to write a Vision centric fic as there is so many new emotions and sensations to explore, especially with the complex structure of how he was born. This story is a Soulmate and Canon Divergence AU (set right after Civil War), so please head the anxiety and so forth that will be coming of it.

JARVIS, also, is not 'integrated' completely into Vision's matrix. There are shards of his existence still woven through Vision's soul, meaning sometimes he's like a separate personality. Not a 'multiple' personality but a fragmented piece Vision can decipher messages from every now and then.

Anyways, I don't want to give too much away. This story is quite heavy plot and emotion wise so I do hope I can entice my Honeys to stay and enjoy the ride. It's going to be a wild one.

Prologue: Eminence

His mind was carefully woven from both ancient synapsis and purely synthetic circuitry, the very source of naïve avarice and old-as-time consideration. Yet, at the first taste of bitter betrayal, the evolutionary being's entire world disintegrated in a cloud of rusted blood and crumbling granite. The mind stone was a constant burden upon his brow, impossibly heavy with both metaphysical emotion and incessant, howling, pain.

Born of a thunder god's prophecy, a benevolent A.I's matrix, its creator's depthless sacrifice and a monster's nightmare; Vision was the cosmos' first ever progressive entity. He felt more, saw more, understood more and yet remained consistently vulnerable. He was the very embodiment of new life, hope, protection, strength and ceaseless compassion.

And for the first time in his half-year of existence, the android couldn't help but curl instinctively in upon himself as unsteady fingers found a vicious iron strut thrust through his abdomen. Artificial silver blood was bleeding cathartic rivulets across sanguine red skin, the taste of dust and metal opening up a doorway into new-found terror as creation turned itself a vicious acerbic black.

Eight stories he had been impelled through: the kitchen floor, underground training room, Tony Stark's private workshop, the bunkered basement far below and into the very foundations of the Avenger Compound. Vision's mind was still reeling internally, recoiling instinctively at the spear of mortality it forced him to acknowledge. There had been no way to slow his violent and uncontrolled descent mere seconds before, nor alter the impossibly dense but brittle mass weighing down his body.

There was no way he could have known, could have expected to beinjured by so little. Not by steel, not by blood, not by iron or concrete. Distantly, he was well aware that on a molecular level, vibranium became unnecessarily unstable when its density didn't equal mass and it vibrated at high speeds. Having outside forces play with the delicate balance he carefully contained every hour of every day, made him just that much more vulnerable.

Never had he thought he could fear such blatant violation from a known ally however, not from Wanda. He could no longer turn a blind eye to the pain, the simmering rage and betrayal slowly consuming his body from within. What if her actions changed things for the team irrevocably? What if she upset the careful balance so intricately woven between several egotistical superheroes? Mr Stark would definitely see this as a blatant violation against those under his and the Accords' protection.

Blinking absently at the pained regret stinging the corner of his eyes, electric cyan and dotted white irises blurred with telling emotion as a sanguine frame silently willed itself to move, to rise out of the pit he had been thrust into and finish what had been started. He had promised Mr Stark he would protect Miss Maximoff, both from the public and brutal judicial government.

He should complete that duty, even if it was blatantly clear he couldn't alleviate her sense of isolation and internal remorse. It was just as he had said a few days before: conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight…oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.

His heart was pounding an erratic rhythm deep in the hollows of his chest, a cry of anguish spilling painfully passed sanguine lips as he violently wrenched himself free of iron impalement. The explosion of pain it created was absolutely excruciating, several system warnings screaming unintelligibly through his cerebral circuits as FRIDAY'S distressed query echoed deafeningly from above.

Iron Man's unique mind was fast approaching from the east, three minutes to arrival by distance calculation. The older man's brief trip to Germany had probably taken just as much of a disastrous turn, going by the news report of several hours before. Vision was carefully tilting his head towards the sound of sleek black helicopter blades slicing smoothly through swirling black clouds, his flickering will successfully subjugating the mind stone as it fizzled frenetically over countless ion molecules pressed up against his skin. A lithe hundred-and-ninety-two-centimetre frame was rising smoothly upwards, absentmindedly taking in the scent of burning shrubbery and lingering orange embers dancing hypnotically in his periphery.

Hovering serenely above the deep hole he had clawed himself out from, the truth of the current situation tasted of nothing but ash and pain to him. Vision's palm was curling gingerly over the leaking wound carved deeply into his side, rotating blue-white irises fascinated by silver blood droplets pooling rhythmically at the edge of jagged granite rock.

The effervescent sway of an ephemeral-amber cape was perfectly accentuated by the haunting chromatic grey of his suit, the crimson-silver of his skin reflecting darker in the midnight madness as he willed himself to stay perfectly still. His mind was unexpectedly captivated by reflective moonbeams sneaking passed small kitchen windows—.

"Vision! Hey, you here? Vis?!" Turning instinctively towards the sound of Tony Stark's mounting distress, the aforementioned android was somewhat surprised to note a bruised and battered billionaire storming fitfully into the compound kitchen. "FRIDAY said you weren't responding and—."

"Oh god…" Trailing off at the sight of the evolutionary being quietly settling himself back on his feet, only to stumble forward when agony shot up his spine; Tony frantically flew forward to wind a supportive arm around a slim waist.

"Christ! Are you alright?" The question was a simple one. "I don't know." Vision sounded out carefully, leaning appreciatively against the pillar of support the older man provided as he was slowly led forward and settled into a soft leather armchair. Mr Stark was already calling for one of his beloved robotic creations, U, to fetch the specialized medical kit down in his basement lab over intricate Police S1948 Interface sunglasses.

"No. I don't suppose you would, Big Red." Tony replied absently, gentle fingertips hovering uncertainly over the jagged wound cut into the crimson being's side as he impatiently tapped the otherworldly grey fabric wrapped around a sculpted torso. He needed to get Vision to expose the wound, to see the damage they were working with. Concerned Türk Kahvesi brown eyes were locking briefly with swirling blue irises from behind red lenses, a slightly crooked smile of thanks curling up the corner of a perfectly groomed goatee as his request was eventually granted.

"Shit! That looks bad. Are you—." Craning his head forward to see the damage done to his body, Vision didn't even flinch at the lance of pain the movement speared through his brain as he hummed nonchalantly before calling up full control over his running processes. "Logically, the nanites synthesizing my blood should have the ability to seal any type of wound from the inside. I believe it was created in the unlikely event that someone ever managed to penetrate the vibranium binding my cells."

"Like that, I can also inhibit the pain receptors in my brain for several minutes to make what comes next a slightly more bearable process." Taking note of the slightest tremble wracking unsteady fingers, a sanguine forehead creased in considerable confusion as he turned helpless, pleading eyes towards Tony Stark. "Would you mind, terribly, Sir? In assisting me with weaving stitches? I seem to be experiencing mild shock."

"Y-yeah," There was a shuddering breath hitching noticeably in the genius' lungs. "Alright, V. Just don't sound so calm all the time, fuck! You must be in a lot of pain."

"A fair bit," Vision returned mischievously. He trusted this man with his life, as both his creator and friend. The operational matrix woven so carefully throughout his very foundations, was humming gently with JARVIS' understanding and calm influence. Sometimes the A.I talked to him through flashes of binary, a deeply integrated part of his 'soul' that was always impossibly gentle with the man before him and dryly sarcastic at Vision's every human error and his creator's listless antics.

As they waited for the arrival of medical supplies, the billionaire enquired as to what had happened in his absence. Explaining the quantified control Scarlet Witch had had over the mind stone and her outside influence upsetting the balance within his molecules, increased the metaphysical anguish tearing violently through the depths of his heart. There was an irritable sting glassing over his eyes, his mind quietly attempting to manipulate the synapsis of his brain to dull the pain further, only to learn, unexpectedly, that physical and metal pain were two completely different things.

He told Mr Stark his observations out of curiosity, honouring the genius' request to keep talking as nimble fingers eventually sterilized a needle and thread before methodically leaning forward to sew up his wound. The request to alter the density of his from and explain how he did it, seemed to light a fire of fascination behind dark eyes as the man removed his glasses, alleviating a bit of the simmering rage Vision could see consuming previously hardened features.

Those fingertips were infinitely gentle wherever they touched, perfectly steady and used to working closely with the world's most delicate of machinery and countless explosive components. The flicker of artificial light from above, harsh and unyielding, darkened the bruise marring a left brow and countless small scars crisscrossing calloused hands. It was bringing out several silver filaments woven naturally through mahogany brown locks.

The careful way in which Tony Stark worked a little slower and more carefully with his left hand however, belayed an injury the man himself had received as Vision cautiously brought his hand up to drift compassionately over a bruised cheek. He didn't want to startle the billionaire, especially not when swift movements severed a thread and needle and stained fingers rummaged restlessly through the medical kit for a fresh roll of bandages. There was no joy in ratcheting up the man's already mounting anxiety.

"You are injured," He pointed out carefully, a feather light caress laying boldly across battered skin as wide brown eyes collided heatedly with dotted white. "I—."

"It's fine, Vis. I'll be okay." Tony reassured softly, carefully wrapping up his hard work after having curled a brief, reassuring, grip through sanguine red fingers. The Vision's hand was warm, running several degrees hotter than human skin as the billionaire stood with protesting knees and patted a strong shoulder somewhat patronizingly…just to see the fire of irritation swallowing inhuman blue irises.

"Look, I never intended for the Accords to get in the way of how the team stays together. This situation is quickly spinning out of control and I need — I'm going to need your help, buddy, to stop Steve from making an even bigger mistake." Startled by a reassuring grip curling firmly around his shoulder, Tony watched in fascination as the tall android got to his feet, suit perfectly in place and an amber-gold cape cascading evocatively down a yet to be burdened back.

"You need not ask, Anthony. I shall always stand by your side." There was no indication of the devastating wound the genius had just stitched up, his mind slightly shaken by the violent concern he felt for the red being's wellbeing as he nodded in quiet thanks and got ready to gather the rest of the team to help in their next quest.

As long as Vision was alright and he wouldn't have to lose part of his soul again, Tony thought things would be okay.

. . .

It was a tragedy. Sixty-seven hours, twenty-three minutes and forty-eight seconds since the disastrous confrontation in Berlin, Vision's world was once more crumbling apart. He couldn't bear to see Mr Stark so fragile and small, the usually proud man confined to a bed in the infirmary and imprisoned by incessant beeping machinery.

The monochrome skyline, dipped in velvet black rainclouds, spread melancholic precipitation over the vast distance as the sun finally decided to set on upstate New York. It was cold, the mid-autumn snap sneaking passed cool tile floors and frosted glass windows. There were too many chrome plates and icy concrete laid throughout the facility, only a soft dark blue eiderdown duvet; deliberately pilfered from Mr Stark's private quarters, tucked an injured hundred-and-seventy-six-centimetre frame within a cocoon of steady warmth.

Vision had surreptitiously connected to FRIDAY's mainframe earlier, shunting the A.I's increasing workload over to himself as he locked down the Avenger's facility from the inside and cleared only two others, whom he knew Mr Stark trusted irrevocably, for entrance as he settled his consciousness deep into the circuits controlling room temperatures, medical staff clearance and notable diagnosis.

In Siberia, the forty-six-year-old had been severely injured at the hands of Steve Rogers and Sergeant Barnes. The damage of a vibranium shield thrust through the Iron Man chest piece had cracked not only a few ribs within the billionaire's already compromised sternum but affected the severity of his already damaged heart.

Watching the dark-haired man now, pale but thankfully having the strength to breathe on his own, he couldn't help but obsessively count every inhalation and exhalation spilling passed parted lips. The array of scrapes and bruises marring hauntingly attractive features, only added to the constant twinge in Vision's side as it reminded him of the help the older man had so generously offered him not so long ago.

He was still weary of the course the events had taken, however. The sensation of guilt and brewing uncertainty left a distinctly bitter taste in his mouth. He had unknowingly taken away someone's ability to walk, missed the important transmission between FRIDAY and the authorities in Berlin and barely even noticed when Mr Stark left to gather information at the Raft. It made the progressive android wonder if he was beginning to show the disassociation of a monster and not a human. He certainly wouldn't know if he was one, right?

There was a violent and insatiable need pulsing to life within him, to wreak havoc upon every single person that had ever hurt Mr Stark. The inexplicable impulsivity was overriding some of JARVIS' more benevolent protocols woven throughout his matrix, a lance of illogical fear and screaming vengeance piercing violently through every firing synapse of his brain.

Trembling fingertips were curling into frustrated fists by his side, the sanguine being briefly clenching his eyes shut against the soul deep anguish constricting his next breath. He promised himself, never again, would he let Tony Stark face his demons by himself. Especially after the physical strain of not only losing his relationship with the one he loved but once more finding himself alone in a world where his best friend was paralyzed and his life had been thrown upside down with the discovery of a twenty-five-year old secret.

Without JARVIS by the man's side or the comforts of his true home in Malibu, Vision swore that he would stay for as long or as close as Mr Stark desired. It was only fair, after all. The forty-six-year-old was the only human capable of understanding the emotions bubbling so distractingly in his own chest and explaining their importance without expecting payment in return.

"I promise to protect you, Sir." He whispered carefully, echoing the discretion his thoughts had taken as time flowed into an imperceptible bubble around them. There was only the rhythmic beep of machines and a small shift on the dark-haired man's bed to answer his declaration, grounded footsteps gliding evocatively over cool tile floors as the tall being took a seat on a leather armchair settled next to the double bed.

Carefully taking an uninjured right hand in his own, methodical movements brought a fever-hot palm to lay tenderly over the pulsing mind stone imbedded on his forehead. Like this, Vision could monitor the depths of Tony's consciousness and tweak the flow of his dreams. He had been a careful presence throughout the last thirty-seven hours since Tony's arrival, making sure not a single dark thought or memory penetrated the depths of a well-deserved reprieve.

He himself was exhausted, even if he barely needed sleep like a normal human. Yet, as he stayed vigilant beside an infirmary bedside for hours on end, haunting cyan eyes drifted shut behind spun silver lashes as he laid a heavy temple upon his folded right arm. Never once did he shift the palm resting limply upon his forehead, strangely sated limbs unable to move from where he had gotten perfectly comfortable.

Enjoying the perfect heat muted black trousers, a crisp button-up shirt and form fitting dark blue jumper provided, the beat of a rested heart suddenly startled when an encompassing teal and amber entity rose up in the depths of his cortex. The flash of vibrant blue binary flickering to life behind hooded lashes, startled his drifting consciousness back to reality.

01010011 01101001 01110010? (1*) Allowing a quiet smile to curve across the perfectly sculpted plush of his lips, Vision ran another in-depth body scan over Mr Stark's methodically rising and falling chest as he took note of surprising energetic brain activity pressing up against the mind stone. The remnants of what he knew was JARVIS, remained quiet in response to the results before sending another brief query.

01000011 01101111 01101101 01100110 01101111 01110010 01110100? (2*)

Only because it is you who asked. He returned smoothly, a quiet hum of agreement hitching through the core of his powers as the mind stone bent and altered the flow of light around them. A flawless expanse of pale skin was smoothing over the metallic circuitry and exposed vibranium comprising his hands, the glow of an amber gem remaining firmly imbedded in his forehead as hauntingly attractive Nordic features looked out over a perfectly straight nose.

Unnaturally bright blue eyes were blinking in hazy compliancy, restless fingertips dragging thoughtfully through short, spiky, blonde locks as white dots and rotating silver circuits spun languidly around never still irises. He absolutely refused to let go of the warm palm clasped so loving in his own, Vision had sworn he would never make the same mistakes again…not in providing Mr Stark the comfort and support he so rightfully deserved.

The paleness of his newly developed human skin, a disguise he had been practicing for several months now, lightened up the dim illumination of the infirmary room as he crossed impossibly long legs one over the other. He was absently reciting one of Sir's favourite books he could recall from perfect memory, using the sound of his voice to settle the ambience of the atmosphere and calm the erratically beeping heart monitor beside him.

"I shall remain right here until you wake, Sir." He vowed quietly, knowing that any other moniker dripping from the tip of his tongue would never make up the respect, affection, love and comfort he felt in the older man's presence. Just as Vision knew, his voice would always provide not only a spike a pain to the older man but a soothing reprise to his consistently damaged but beautiful soul.

Whatever the future held, he would not waver.

1* 01010011 01101001 01110010– Sir

2* 01000011 01101111 01101101 01100110 01101111 01110010 01110100– Comfort

Thank you so much for reading, it means the world to me. If I may be so bold as to ask for a tiny review and if you enjoyed it, please let me know. It would mean the world to me. Any questions you wish to ask or characteristics and plot you wish to debate or inquire about, please don't be afraid to ask. I shall always get back to you as soon as I can.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this construct.

Yours Always
Chocolate Carnival