Clint seemed distracted as he led the way down a flight of stairs.

Pietro didn't comment on it in fear of disrupting Clint's train of thought. He may have been staring a little too much and Clint began to notice, glancing to Pietro with a small smile etched over his lips, not quite here nor there but genuine at least.

"You look worried."

Pietro immediately smoothed his expression. "I… No, I just… You looked like you were thinking."

Clint let out a small exhale of amusement but he didn't reply, remaining in silence until they reached the party deck. He halted, glancing up the ramp to Tony laboratory and then to a door just visible behind the ramp, his movements conflicted.

"You go up without me, kid," Clint gestured to the staircase, his voice absent. "I'll join you later."

Pietro frowned. Clint sounded suspiciously hollow. "Are you okay?"

Clint glanced to him, lips twitching in a slightly forced smile. "I'm fine. I just... I gotta find Nat."

Pietro's mouth opened in realisation but he didn't speak, just nodded. Natasha was important to Clint. The two shared a kind of bond unique to anyone else on the team, leading Pietro to believe they each played a significant role in the others past. It was something familiar... like family.

"Pietro?"

Pietro was jolted from his thoughts at the sound of Clint's voice. "Huh?"

Clint quirked a smile, genuine this time, fond. "Go on. I'll be there in a sec."

Pietro nodded again, watching as Clint headed off to vanish through a door under the ramp. Putting on a burst of speed, Pietro made his way up the ramp and curved around into the laboratory, slowing to a stop as he silently opened the door.

This was Tony's workshop, gadgets and screws, scraps of metal and oil-smeared rags scattered over the worktops. Voices were clear up ahead and Pietro moved between the tables and robots, making the unconscious decision to observe from afar as he realised his position was hidden in darkness.

The cradle was as Pietro remembered from catching a glimpse of it in the jet. The object seemed almost otherworldly, some kind of figure shrouded in bluish mist beneath the glass screen. Cables and plugs were fixed to one end, leading off to god knows where- some kind of power source would be Pietro's guess.

Bruce was inspecting the 'body' in the cradle while Tony stood on a higher level surrounded by computers and holographic screens. Pietro frowned. He'd had a feeling that Tony would probably try to experiment with the cradle a little but not on this scale. It looked as though he was continuing Ultron's work...

Tony tapped at a keyboard, frustrated, and flashed glances between screens on either side. "This framework is not compatible…"

"The genetic coding tower is at ninety-seven percent," Bruce informed, trailing a hand over the cradle as he walked around to the other end of the object, taking his glasses off to glance up at Tony as he went. "You have got to upload that schematic in the next three minutes." He leaned down to check the cables leading into the cradle.

Heavy footsteps sounded and Steve strode into view, in full uniform and with the shield ready on his right arm. "I'm gonna say this once."

"How about 'none-ce'?" Tony snapped right back without a second of hesitation.

"Shut it down!" Steve's voice was heated.

"Nope, not gonna happen," Tony brushed his order off, continuing his work as if the Captain hadn't interrupted.

"You don't know what you're doing."

Pietro blinked in surprise. As far as he could remember, this was only the second real argument he'd seen between the team. He hated seeing them split like this, taking sides against one another.

Maybe it was Pietro's lack of academic prowess but he for one couldn't see what Tony was hoping to accomplish. He sped to Steve's side, glancing to the soldier as he whipped around in shock at Pietro's sudden appearance.

"What's going on?" Pietro asked.

Tony glanced away, like he regretted fighting in front of him. "Stay out of this, kid."

Pietro's eyes narrowed. "I am not a child. Why are you doing what Ultron wants?"

"We're not," Bruce corrected calmly. "Tony wants to continue work on the body but upload Jarvis' conscience into it instead of Ultron's. It won't be like what happened with Ultron. This will be equally as powerful but without all the psychotic glitches; we could even use it to stop him."

Steve stepped forward. "That's too close to how you made Ultron. Something could go seriously wrong."

"Do you want that to happen?" Pietro queried disbelievingly glancing over at Tony.

Tony sighed. "Pietro, you gotta see the bigger picture here-"

"I do not see the bigger picture," Pietro retorted, his words almost lost in the continuing argument.

"Guys, after everything that's happened-"

"It's nothing compared to what's coming!"

Pietro gritted his teeth, his veins setting alight as his power rose involuntarily, provoked by confusion and frustration, and he shot forward. He slammed into the cables, half tripping up on them as the raced round the cradle. Skidding to a halt, he dropped a plug, barely aware he'd been pulling them out. The avengers were staring at him in shock.

"I-I'm sorry," he apologised shakily, looking around at them. "I had to stop you fight-"

His voice cut off and he seemed to see it in slow motion. Stark- obviously working mostly on instinct- struck a hand out, a piece of his ironman suit attaching itself to his arm. A blast of white light shot from his palm, zooming towards the ground beneath Pietro and shattering the glass.

"Pietro!"

Steve yelled his name as he fell, landing on his back with a grunt of pain. Arms covering his face just in time, shards of glass fell around him, shattering on impact with the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut for a heartbeat before scrambling to a rough sitting position.

"Jesus christ, kid, are you alright?" Clint was there suddenly, crouched in front of him, touching his shoulder anxiously. "What the hell happened?"

"Stark, Cap, they're-" Pietro's voice cut off as a loud crash sounded from above.

More glass came cascading down and Pietro moved his arm to cover his face. Arms wrapped around him and there was a series of smashing noises as lethal shards shattered to the ground. Pietro blinked his eyes open. Clint had protected him. The archer had his arms wrapped around Pietro's shoulders and had drawn the young man close, shielding him from the falling glass.

Clint cautiously released his hold, slackening his grip on the kid and raising a hand, brushing glass out his hair. He winced a little, touching his shoulder tentatively before looking back to Pietro, angling his head in a worried notion.

"You okay? What happened?"

Pietro nodded, still a little shocked by the archers action. "I-Yeah, I'm fine. Tony.. shot the floor out. I-" His eyes fixed on Clint's shoulder. His shirt was ripped from the glass and there was a deep gash in his flesh, blood dripping from the cut. "Clint, you're hurt."

"It's nothing," Clint insisted as he stood up, helping Pietro to his feet. "It's just a scratch."

Clint glanced up to the shattered ceiling, anger flaring in his irises. Before Pietro could react, Clint had pulled out a gun from the holster on his belt and taken off up the stairs to the lab. Pietro cursed in Sokovian under his breath, scrambling up after the archer.

Reluctant to use his power after his outburst prior, Pietro appeared back in the lab to see Clint had already made it across the room. The archer was heading straight for Stark, slamming his gun on a nearby table. The echoing sound was loud enough to stop the argument, voices fading as Clint stepped up to Tony.

In prefect silence, Clint slammed his fist against Tony's jaw, sending him staggering back with a hand clutched the side of his face.

"What the hell, Clint?!" Tony yelled.

"Don't you dare," Clint murmured, his voice deadly quiet, raising as his tone became more heated. "Don't you dare even wonder why I did that!"

Tony narrowed his eyes, rubbing at the side of his jaw. "It wasn't personal, Barton. I just had to stop him screwing the cradle."

Clint grabbed him by the collar, dragging him forward so their eyes locked. "You hurt him again... You so much as lay a finger on him and I swear I will kill you."

"Clint!" Pietro exclaimed, shocked.

There was a thunderous crash and they whipped round to see Thor leap at the cradle, stray glass scattered from his cape and he thudded against the top of the cradle. Thrusting his arm up, he raised his hammer to the heavens.

"Wait!" Bruce screamed, starting forward desperately.

Lightning cracked the air and Pietro winced, sheltering his eyes with an arm as blinding light washed the room. Electricity crackled through the air and Thor swung his hammer down, directing the branches of lightning into the cradle. A rapid, high-pitched beeping sound increased and peaked.

Thor pulled away and there were perfect stillness for a moment. No one even appeared to breathe.

With a rush, the cradle tore apart, shrapnel ejecting from every corner and Thor was thrown back, crashing down into a pile of glass. From the fog surfaced a humanoid figure, elegant in a way as it lifted itself to crouch at the end of the cradle. Mist fell around it and Pietro's eyes narrowed curiously. The skin was red and blue, a yellow stone planted into the forehead.

The avengers stirred as one, glancing up to the figure as it stood, scanning its surroundings in a confused nature. Some of the team backed away while others looked on, curious and wary. A hand closed around Pietro's shoulder and he was pulled back, Clint moving in front of him with a loaded pistol at his side.

The figure's gaze came to rest on Thor and, with incredible speed, it shot forward. Thor flipped it easily, sending it flying back until, with a sudden control, the figure stopped, barely missing the glass.

The city was alive, windows blazing with light, cars roaming the streets. Pietro could remember the awe that had taken him as he looked over it for the first time. The figure, hovering steadily, seemed to be experiencing a similar feeling as a hand was held up towards the glass, as if attempting to touch the city itself.

Steve jumped down onto the lower level but Thor struck out a hand to warn him back. The avengers converged on the figure as it flew down, the body darkening while leaving the face and lower arms red. Pietro sped forward curiously, Clint following down the stairs behind him.

The figure landed gracefully. "I am sorry," he apologised, his voice smooth and with a clear, rich accent that Pietro couldn't distinguish. "That was… odd." He- Pietro supposed it was a he due to the voice- looked to Thor. "Thank you."

Thor heaved out a breath, giving a tiny nod of acknowledgement. Like an illusion, something gold appeared on the figure's chest, curling back and spanning down into a golden cape.

"Thor," Steve caught his attention. "You helped create this?"

"I've had a vision," Thor explained deeply. "A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life and at its centre is that." He pointed to the glowing stone on the red forehead.

"What the gem?"

"It's the mind stone."

Pietro felt a shudder at those words and he blinked rapidly. Thor spoke of power and destruction and Pietro felt his own power flicker briefly, clenching his fists and taking a deep breath to force it back. He was confused, out of place, and his fear was provoking his anger. He had to control it.

Steve stepped forward, frowning. "Then why would you bring-"

"Because Stark is right."

Bruce took a breath. "Oh, it's definitely the end times."

"The avengers cannot defeat Ultron."

"Not alone," the figure corrected Thor gently, stepping forward, more confident now.

Steve moved closer. "Why does your Vision sound like Jarvis?"

Pietro frowned. Were they calling it a Vision?

"We've reconfigured Jarvis's matrix.." Tony explained, eyeing the Vision carefully as he passed. "To create something new."

"Think I've had my fill of new."

"You think I'm a child of Ultron." Vision sounded almost offended.

Steve raised a sceptical brow. "You're not?"

The Vision's head barely shook. "I'm not Ultron… I'm not Jarvis. I am…" He trailed off, confused a moment before lifting his gaze again. "I am."

"What?"

Pietro barely realised the word had escaped before the avengers had glanced in his direction. The Vision turned to him, his gaze slightly unnerving.

"What are you…?" Pietro said, as politely as he could. "What's.. that?" He gestured vaguely to the mind stone.

The Vision approached him slowly, his head tilted a little. "You are drawn to it…" he murmured. "I feel it… Your ability… It is unstable." He closed his eyes briefly. "Oh, I can feel it… You have such.. potential… such power coursing through your veins."

Pietro swallowed thickly. "What do you mean?"

A hand lifted and cold fingers touched the side of his face. He gasped as his eyes clouded with darkness. The sceptre hovered in the endless black, the object rotating and spinning until Pietro reached out a hand and touched the jewel. The blue casing shattered and misted away, the entire frame falling back into darkness until all that remained was the stone.

It was blank for a moment, grey and lifeless until, without warning, light pulsed across its surface, bright and yellow, glowing in the darkness. There was an electrical humming emitting from the stone as the light grew brighter. Looking down, Pietro saw blue trails spanning up his arms, lighting his veins. The colour flickered abruptly, jolting yellow in its place. Wind rushed in Pietro's ears, a hand grasped his shoulder. His eyes snapped open with a gasp and he fell back.

"Kid!"

Clint was by his side in an instant, helping him to sit up. Pietro raised a hand to grip his throbbing temple, panicked and disorientated.

"Pietro, talk to me," Clint urged, letting the younger man lean against him. "What did you see?"

Pietro lowered his hand shakily, scanning his pale skin. It was clean, untainted. "It… It's me…" He whispered, although it barely made sense, it was the only thing he could think to describe it as. He was connected to it. "It's me…"

"What is?"

"The stone…" Pietro clutched his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. "It's in my blood.. Part of me…"

"Pietro's powers, the horrors in our head, Ultron himself, they all came from the mind stone," Thor pressed, willing them to understand. "And they are nothing compared to what it can unleash."

Clint glanced to Pietro anxiously, running his hand along his shoulders. His breathing was laboured, his face pale. "Kid…" he murmured sympathetically.

"He will be fine," Vision assured Clint quietly. "Make sure he is hydrated, he'll be okay."

Clint's eyes narrowed. "Stone's pretty damn powerful, huh?"

"Yes," Thor agreed. "But with it on our side-"

"Is it?" Steve asked abruptly, turned to the Vision. "Are you…? On our side?"

Vision glanced down, thoughtful. "I don't think it's that simple," he stated calmly, forehead furrowing.

"Well, it better get real simple real soon," Clint muttered, his patience shortened in concern for Pietro, who was slumped against his side. "Whose side are you on?"

Vision looked to him briefly, turning back to the others. "I am on the side of life. Ultron is not… He will end it all."

"What's he waiting for?" Tony asked, almost as if he didn't want the answer.

"You."

Banner frowned. "Where?"

Clint's heart plummeted as he recalled Natasha's message. "Sokovia," he answered regretfully, noting Pietro glance up from the corner of his eye. "He's got Nat there too."

Brue swallowed, walking up to stand in front of Vision. "If we're wrong about you.." he began quietly, his voice somehow a lot more threatening this way. "If you're the monster that Ultron made you to be…"

Vision looked concerned, fearful. "What will you do?"

There was an unspoken answer in the silence that followed.

"I don't want to kill Ultron," Vision stated calmly, walking past Bruce. "He's unique and he's in pain… But that pain will roll over the Earth. So he must be destroyed. Every from he's built, every trace of presence on the net. We have to act now…" He turned back to address them all. "And not one of us can do it without the others."

Clint glanced down at Pietro, solemn. He couldn't send him into battle, not again, not after what had happened last time, not when he still had no idea on the kid's age. As if he could feel Clint staring at him, Pietro looked up at him. Although clearly exhausted, there was something powerful in his eyes, determined.

"Maybe I am a monster…" Vision said thoughtfully, looking down at his arms. "I don't think I'd know if I were one. I'm not what you are, and not what you intended… So, there may be no way to make you trust me… But we need to go."

The avengers were stunned into silence.

Completely at ease, as if it weighed nothing, Vison was holding Mjölnir to Thor.

The remarkable sight was greeted with slack jaws and wide eyes. Thor accepted his weapon, subdued briefly as Vision strode past him. His eyes darted to each side and the others stared at him, as if waiting for his reaction. Mjölnir swung once and Thor tapped the head of the hammer against his palm, cheerfully.

"Right," he nodded, walking past Tony and clapping him on the shoulder. "Well done."

Clint exchanged a bewildered glance with Steve and Bruce in turn, glancing down to Pietro who was just as stunned as the rest of them. Steve's shock melted first, shaking himself back into the image of command as he swept his gaze over the team. His eyes landed on Pietro, whom Clint had managed to coax to his feet.

"How long do you need?" Steve asked gently.

"Not long," Pietro replied, his voice a little gravelly but at least he was steady on his feet. "Five minutes?"

"Ten," Clint pushed it up to double. "Back of your neck's cut from the glass."

Tony glanced away, turning heel and setting off for his lab.

"I'll give you fifteen at the latest," Steve offered generously. "Shake it off and suit up. Meet back here as soon as you can."

"Ow!"

Clint tutted, gently grasping Pietro's jaw to keep him in place. "Stay still." He carefully smoothed the final butterfly strip onto the cut, closing the wound. "There, that should do it."

Pietro turned his head away, out of Clint's hand. "Thanks."

Clint narrowed his eyes fondly.

In addition to dressing his own wound on his shoulder, he'd insisted on helping Pietro clean up the scratches from the glass, thrusting a water bottle into his hand and ordering that he drink at least half of it. He needed to stay hydrated, according to the Vision. Knowing Pietro, he wouldn't look after himself properly, so Clint had taken it upon himself to care for the kid.

"When did you eat last?"

Pietro glanced to him and strands of white hair fell in his eyes. He chuckled breathlessly, pushing the locks back out of his face. "I'm fine, Clint… You don't have to worry about me, you know. I can take care of myself."

"I know," Clint muttered, even though he didn't. "I just need to make sure you've eaten enough because you need your power to work, okay?"

Pietro nodded. "Yeah, I've eaten." He glanced to the side, clearly eager to move on to another topic. "I'll meet you in gear up."

Clint opened his mouth to protest but Pietro was already gone, sprinting away in a flash of blue smoke. Setting down the medical supplies, Clint sighed, setting off after him. He walked, his pace acting as contrast to Pietro's rushed nature, and arrived just in time to see Pietro easing a new shirt down over his hips.

It was a regular sports shirt, long sleeved with thumb holes, which Clint tended to find annoying but he guessed Pietro found it comfortable. The fabric was two-toned grey with lines of blue and white markings over the ribs and on the arms. The shirt suited him, the blue complimenting with his eyes.

Clint eyed his clothes, regular sports gear- shirt and black trousers with grey trainers matching his shirt. "You're wearing that?"

Pietro glanced to him, then down at himself, smoothing the shirt out. "What's wrong with it?"

"Kid, we're going to a battle not the gym."

Pietro shrugged. "What would you have me wear?"

Clint let out a slow breath, picking his arrows out from an extensive array. "I don't know, something a little sturdier. Maybe try a bulletproof vest?"

"I can't run in them," Pietro muttered. "I just need to be able to run. I don't need weapons or armour. Clothes need to be lightweight so I can run properly."

Clint slotted his arrows into a quiver, a little aggressively.

"You'd better be damn careful then, kid."