Vision's name took some getting used to around the Avengers Tower. It it was typically Tony or Pepper who slipped up and called Vision by his past self's name, Jarvis. No one else had been familiar enough with Jarvis for the similarities to affect their treatment of the newest Avenger. Still, repetition quickly hammered the new name into the couple's minds, and the whole team grew accustomed to the foreign name.
Strangely, it was actually Vision himself who still had a hard time differentiating himself from Tony's old A.I. assistant. Things just… happened, sometimes, and there was no other way to explain it than admitting that his proclamation, 'I am not Jarvis' may not have been entirely accurate.
Case in point:
"Goddammit, Pepper, do you have any idea where my reactor toolbox is?" a frustrated Tony emerged from the elevator, clutching the shattered glass cover of his arc reactor to its base.
Pepper looked up from her laptop. "What did you do?"
"Nothing, tiny explosion – have you seen it?"
Pepper sighed at him. "Tony, I've only ever seen the thing once, years ago. It's not in your lab?"
"No! I've torn the place apart, I can't find it." He kicked at a bookshelf as if his toolbox would fall out. A few issues of NetGeo flapped to the floor, but no toolbox. He huffed.
"What about your office?"
"No, I've looked everywhere. I swear, if Ultron took that, too…"
Vision walked through the room, scrolling through a kindle. "In your bedroom, beneath the desk under a box on the left." He said. Tony and Pepper turned to stare at him. He slowed his pace, stopped, and turned to look back at them, his expression just as surprised as theirs. "…I think," he amended, though it was a lie. He knew, because that is where Tony always misplaced it. Vision blinked and turned to continue reading. "Excuse me," he scurried off.
Tony and Pepper shared a look, Pepper shrugged, and Tony went to his room. He found his toolbox exactly where Vision had said it would be, sitting innocently in its place like Tony had planned it all along. "Not Jarvis my ass," He muttered, setting out the tools he needed and digging around for a replacement glass. "Thanks, buddy."
It happened more often than Vision was comfortable with. When it did, he couldn't help it. It just… came out.
"One size fits all?" Vision asked, intrigued. "How do you mean?"
"I mean, that I want to make it so anyone, tall or short, fat or skinny, could fit into this thing. You never know who might need an iron man suit in a pinch." Tony was flipping through old holographic blueprints of his suits, picking out pieces and files that he could use. Vision stopped fiddling with the dismantled gauntlet on the desk and gave Tony a wary look.
"Anthony, you're not thinking of mass-producing this, are you?" he asked in a serious tone.
"Oh, no," Tony scoffed, taking a drink of his smoothie, "I think we've all learned that lesson. I just want one or two for the tower – you know, for if Fury or his flying monkeys ever need a boost." He glanced at Vision, saying through a mouthful of kiwi-strawberry, "You worry too much, dear."
Vision fought a primal urge to roll his eyes, and continued examining the gauntlet, tracing the wiring with his finger and examining the circuitry.
Tony finished his smoothie and leaned back in his chair. "Friday, get me the Mark 42 plans out, would you? I need to reference the prints for this prototype."
"Right away, sir," chirped the computer. Moments passed. Eventually, "File not found, sir."
"What?" Tony frowned. "Not possible. I never authorized a data dump. It has to be there somewhere – it's not on the company servers, you know."
"No sir, but it's not on your private server either."
"Hell it's not – bring up the browser, I'll find it myself." Even as Friday brought up the display and Tony began scrolling through the files, she assured him:
"Sir, I've run crosschecks on data, keywords, and content, the file isn't anywhere on this server."
"Is the file more than one year old?" Vision asked, not looking up from his task.
"Sure, it's been a few years," Tony said, still scrolling. Vision nodded.
"Friday, check underground storage server. It would have been put into deepfreeze there after one year of no access or modifications."
As Friday searched, Tony swiveled in his chair to stare. "Really?" He asked, actually surprised. "Just one year?"
Vision shrugged. "Yes, it's…" he realized what he was saying, and frowned as he finished, "…protocol."
"Here you are, Boss. I'll remember it in the future," Friday tossed up the Mark 42 plans on the holodesk, and Tony laughed in surprise. "Thanks," he said to Friday, and looked back at Vision. "You too, buddy," he smirked.
Vision felt compelled to smile, and it bothered him.
Still, it wasn't just Jarvis who made unexpected nods in Vision's life. There was another disposition of his, far more subtle, that only truly surfaced in the presence of one of his fellow avengers.
"Look at 'em," Clint grumbled to Steve as they passed Thor and Vision in the practice arena. The two were currently standing close together, Thor explaining something and gesturing with his hammer, Vision nodding along intently. "Their capes and their red and their hammer and… worthiness…ness. Show offs."
As if on cue, Thor and Vision broke their meeting and went in opposite directions. Thor tossed his hammer at Vision, who caught it one-handed as if it were a pencil. They practiced throwing it to each other in a variety of ways, airborne and acrobatic, quick, strong, and any which way they could manage. Having two people who could wield the hammer would come in handy just as it did with more than one person knowing how to wield Captain Rogers' shield, and Thor was (though he may not admit it) happy to teach someone else the fine art of hammer throwing, particularly someone so receptive as Vision.
When they finished their game of catch, Sam Wilson gave a slow, slightly sarcastic clap. Vision and Thor looked over at them.
"Very impressive – now, care to show us mere mortals if you can fight without a rigged club in your hand?"
"It is not rigged, Mr. Wilson, I believe it operates on a form of-"
"I'm sure we could teach you a think or two," Thor smacked Vision on the back to make him stop talking. Sam shook his head.
"Ow," Said Vision, quietly. "Make that a habit with friends, do you?"
Thor hadn't heard him well. "What's that, friend?" He asked, smiling.
"You hit me on the back. I am not sure if it is meant as affection, but you seem to do that often with your…" he paused, eyes unfocusing mechanically, mouth frowning in a more human way. "Nevermind." He looked away, hiding his confused expression from the Asgardian. "Captain Rogers, who am I to be paired with today?"
"Colonel Rhodes – you two are going to have a little dogfight."
Rhodey whooped and began suiting up. "A… fight with dogs?" Vision asked.
"Airborne fight," Steve explained patiently, and Vision nodded. "And no hammers this time."
"Of course not," Vision smiled, making himself forget Thor and the others he'd seen but never met.
He would explain later to Thor, in private, that he sometimes had dreams because of the mindstone. The dreams had started out as indistinct, but Vision was beginning to suspect were memories of sorts, imprints from when the mindstone had lived as a tool of Loki's use. There were dreams of those that Loki had enslaved, and of others far older and long gone that even Loki would not remember. But there were also dreams of Thor – many, in fact. They were all snippets, nothing substantial. But they gave Vision a glimpse into intimate scenes of lives that were not his.
"I felt I should tell you now, so that I if I must unwillingly invade your private past, I would not do so in secret."
"I see," Thor said, nodding along with a trained expression. Vision felt uneasy. Thor had been the first person he'd had contact with following his birth, and was the first person to truly believe he was good. Vision fought to earn the avengers' respect, but he sought to keep Thor's undivided approval perhaps above all others.
"I am sorry," the synthoid said sincerely, "I would stop them if I could."
"No, no, it's not your fault, thank you for telling me." Thor told him, looking pensive. After a stretch of silence, he asked curiously, "Were they happy memories, at least? The ones with me, I mean."
Vision thought on this, short snippets flitting in his mind's eye of two young boys, an Asgardian and a frost giant so happily ignorant of his heritage, with a proud father and a mother who loved both as they were. A younger brother who idolized his elder, even when he hit just a little too hard on the back. Vision had limited experience in living and even less in family, but he knew his answer. "Very," he told Thor. "Of all the dreams I see, Loki's are always the happiest."
Thor blinked a few times, and nodded with a knot in his brow and a mouth that, for once, had nothing to say. "Thank you, brother," he used the word as he did with comrades from time to time, but if Vision was more in tune with human mannerisms, he would have realized it was a slip. Thor put a strong hand on Visions shoulder. "You mustn't let the dreams trouble you, but thank you for telling me."
The dreams would bother Vision, but not for the reasons that Thor might've thought.
Not quite a month after the Ultron fiasco, Vision walked by Tony's lab while he was skyping with Dr. Helen Cho.
"And he hasn't…" She was saying, trailing off with an uneasy expression.
"No no, he's fine – great, in fact. Not a trace of Ultron to be found," said Tony. Natasha, who was lounging against a desk, leaned into the camera.
"He's also very handsome," She intoned, only half joking, "and very considerate."
"Mmm, almost too much so. I blame Jarvis for that," Tony said with a smirk.
"And the gem?"
"Thor has given him the okay to keep it, and that's a good enough word for me. Did I tell you he can lift Thor's hammer?"
"Really?"
Vision stepped into the room. Natasha heard him and turned, Tony following suit soon after. "Speak of the devil!" He said, and looked back to Dr. Cho. "Here he is – say hi, man," Tony put an arm around Vision's shoulders as the synthoid came into view. Helen's face lit up.
"You're beautiful!" She beamed at him, and he smiled nervously.
"If you say so. I believe I would have you to thank for that, Dr. Cho," He nodded at her. She laughed, still beaming.
"Such manners. You do sound like Jarvis – love the cape. How is Tony treating you?"
"As well as he treats any of his friends," Vision told her, with Tony nodding solemnly in the background. "Which is to say, he enjoys… what is that idiom, again… pulling my leg."
Helen laughed, as did Natasha, even as Tony frowned.
"Sounds about right. Well, Vision, I look forward to meeting you in person. Tony mentioned that-"
Another voice came in from Helen's end, speaking in Korean. She looked over toward the door, nodded, and gave a short answer in kind. She turned back to the camera. "I'm sorry, I have to go. It's been good to meet you, Vision. Tony, I'll be in New York in a few months, let me know when I can come by."
"Will do, " Tony said, and swiped the transmission off. As he turned away, he patted Vision on the back. "Momma's boy," He accused with a smirk. Vision watched him go back to work, fiddling with tech that even he didn't understand. Natasha stayed for a few minutes, but got a call and stepped out into the hallway.
Vision stood there silently for a while, looking between the screen where Helen's face had been and the tech that Tony was fiddling with – some of which was leftover from Ultron's reign of terror.
"Not a trace of Ultron to be found,"
"I'll be in... um…" He paused, realizing that Tony was the only one there, and he wasn't listening. "I'll go," he said quietly, and left.
Eventually, he found himself on the roof, hovering just above the highest point of the tower. Pepper found him there a few hours later.
"Wanda was asking about you," She said, crossing her arms as she looked up at him.
"Why?"
Pepper frowned. "You've been gone all day, she was worried. We've all been looking for you."
"And you found me," He said.
"Are you going to come down?" Pepper asked.
After a while, he did. He said nothing for a while, and Pepper didn't press him. But eventually, she sat down on an old rooftop bench that Tony favored, and made a spot for Vision to follow suit. He did.
"It has come to my attention," he told her calmly, "that there is nothing of my person that I can claim for my own." His voice was mechanical and polite as ever, but there was a tremor in his final comment that broke Pepper's heart. She looped her arm through his.
"Why do you say that?"
He heaved a sigh, eyes mournful. "Ultron, Jarvis, even the mindstone… they dictate everything I do. I know this tower better than my own skin because of Jarvis, I know more about Thor and the nine realms than any Midgardian should, and I will never escape the fearful glance of those waiting for Ultron to… to take me over from the inside." He finally glanced at Pepper. "I realize now that I have been existing under the delusion that I am alive."
"Vision, you are alive." Pepper said in a tone like a mother. "Being alive is about having other people influence you. It's like… like parents, or teachers. It's like genes, and traditions, and you put all that into a blender, and the end result is something new. And just because it came from something else doesn't make it bad."
"But I'm a thing," Vision persisted. "A program, a stone, and a bloodthirsty AI's attempt at godhood. It's… a mess larger than anything Tony's ever made." He looked down at his hands. After a while, he whispered, "I never asked to be made."
"No one ever does," Pepper told him. She sighed, not sure what to say. She laced her fingers through his and gave his hand a squeeze. "You're barely a month old, Vision, you'll find yourself eventually. Give it time."
Vision glanced down at her hand, and wriggled his experimentally in her grasp. "It is a gesture of affection," he said. Pepper resisted the urge to chuckle at his frank nature. "Yes. Physical contact is soothing to people in pain," She told him. She was used to helping him understand things by now, and didn't feel awkward.
Vision nodded, taking stock of his own emotions. "It is," He said. He glanced up at Pepper with his metal blue eyes and gave a small smile. "Thank you, Ms. Potts."
"That's what I'm here for," She said, giving his hand another squeeze before rising to her feet. "Don't let the others worry all night," She told him as she left. For a while after she was gone, Vision stayed where he was, studying his hand and pondering human emotion.
A few days later, Vision found Wanda Maximoff standing by the window but not looking out of it, holding something in her hand and sniffing. Vision came to stand by her, and saw that in one hand she held a tissue, and in the other she held a small photograph. He did not ask what it was.
Silently, with the calculated attention that only a newborn soul can manage, Vision reached down and took Wanda's hand in his, lacing his fingers through hers and giving her hand a squeeze. She looked up at him, confused and a little embarrassed by her tears.
"Human contact helps soothe pain," he recited as if from an encyclopedia. He looked at the ground, a little hurt, and added: "I am not truly human, but I hope I may help in some way." He glanced at the photo she held against herself. "If I may," he added, politely. She sniffed and blew her nose, not moving her hand from his. She stepped closer.
"D'akujem," she said. It took him a while to dig through Jarvis' deep memory to find the correct translation. Thank you.
Weeks passed, and Vision began to spend more time with Wanda, usually in silence, usually when she was caught in the grip of her grief. Sometimes they would hold hands, and sometimes they would not. Vision enjoyed the simplicity of it, because the companionship made him feel like a human participant. For Wanda, it was steady, calm comfort.
The rest of the team saw but never commented on the budding friendship between the synthoid and the Sovokian witch, but considering Wanda's grief, they asked no questions. They were merely grateful that the two newest and perhaps most uncomfortable additions to their team were making friends .
But then one day, they got to see a side of Vision that no one, not Thor or Tony or Pepper or even Ultron had ever seen before. Wanda walked into breakfast as she always did, her hair catching the morning sun's rays in a deep red glow. She moved to take a seat by Vision (as had become her preference) and the red-skinned man let his gaze follow her all the way to her seat. He broke routine by commenting,
"Wanda, you look… very beautiful this morning," He said it in such a plain, matter-of-fact tone, but everyone at the table paused in what they were doing to stare. Wanda smiled at him a little nervously, and took her seat.
"Thank you," She said uncertainly, but she did mean it. "That's kind of you to say. Pass me the salt?"
The others shared looks across the table, no one quite sure if they should say anything.
"Was that flirting back there, Viz?" Rhodey would ask when it was just the men. Vision, who was still getting used to nicknames, turned.
"What?"
"You don't just call a girl beautiful and expect her not to notice," said Steve like a wise grandfather.
"But she is beautiful," Vision said. "I felt that she ought to know I think so. Is that so wrong?"
"Well no," Said Rhodey, "But why did you? Do you like her?"
Vision seemed perplexed. "Of course I do. We are friends."
Sam shook his head. "No, man, he means, do you like like her? You know, like romantically."
Vision blinked several times, looking at the others in a confused way. "I don't understand," he said, "I am familiar with the term, but I do not believe I understand what it means," he said honestly. Rhodey and Sam laughed, shaking their heads at the naivety of their teammate. Steve only smiled. How to explain something like that?
"Welcome to the human race, buddy," he joked offhandedly. "It only gets more confusing from here. Good on you, though. You two are good together." He gave Vision a strong pat on the shoulder and continued on with the other two to the gym. Vision watched them go with an unfamiliarly hopeful feeling rising in the back of his chest.
Welcome to the human race.
No one, not Jarvis, not the mindstone, not Ultron or even the Avengers themselves could explain away the confusion that he felt. But while he understood that confusion was a frustrating human emotion, in that moment, Vision took it as a comfort. This emotion was his, and his alone. And surely, that meant that he was living. He smiled, and continued onward.