The next few chapters are going to be rather fast paced as I really want to get the Edinburgh segment over and really sink into the real story back in New York - for perspective, the two of them will be out of Scotland within two or three chapters, as Wanda is going to bring Vision back to the compound as the story continues. Two or so chapters might seem a bit rushed for him to agree to go with her and I would like to dedicate more time to developing Vision's trust of Wanda, but this story is progressing a little too slowly for my liking, and we can do that back in America as well. Thank you so much, and stay safe out there.
Someone was watching the lone, seemingly normal looking man walking into a dark street.
Vision couldn't walk anymore. He had to stop and think for a moment. He leaned against a wall covered in graffiti, covering his face with his hands. He could feel a heavy, wet feeling in his eyes, as if they were filling with water. It wasn't the first time - whenever he lay on a roof at night or inside an abandoned building, feeling so alone, afraid, of both his past and his future. They would fill and fill, the pressure growing, but if he closed his eyes tight enough, the feeling would subside. He scrunched them closed for a minute, and eventually it went away.
His hands moved from his face to cling to the sides of his head, as he tried to block out the now-crystal clear image of what he now knew to be his death. He didn't just hear the memory now, he experienced it, saw it in full colour - no. He remembered it.
It began with a flash of that strange green light, stirring him from darkness. The green light to fade, he had briefly felt as if he had just woken from sleep, along with the dull feeling of pain all over his body. Then he had felt a strange sense of shock and confusion, although he didn't know where that part came from - he had gotten a brief look at the forest, and then he couldn't breathe as he was lifted off the ground.
He heard Wanda's piercing shriek and then a sickening whack as she was struck. Vision had stared in terror at the cold face of Thanos. He saw every line and scar on his alien face, the lack of remorse in his eyes, as the enormous people hand reached for the prize in his forehead. He remembered prying uselessly at the iron grasp around his throat, kicking feebly in a desperate attempt to escape - and then a brief flash of agony. And finally, darkness again, like the nightmare was over, and he had gone back to sleep.
There was so much he didn't understand, didn't remember. There were so many questions. How long had it been since his death? Why did Thanos want the stone? What kind of life had Vision had before he lost it? What a cruel way to die. Just imagining someone forcibly tearing the stone - mind stone, whatever it was - out of his flesh with their bare hands...
The sight was horrifying. But the sound - that was something else.
"No!"
Wanda's scream... nobody should ever scream like that. He had briefly glimpsed her, how different she looked. Her hair was ginger instead of brown, her face twisted and contorted with fear, the realisation that he was about to die and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She had looked so afraid... it made sense now. She was there. The forest was the same one surrounding them in the illusion she had accidentally showed him. Of course she must have been terrified of that forest. It made sense for it to be the background of her worst fears and nightmares.
So now that he knew her killing him instead was an illusion - why did he run from her? Looking back he was unsure why. When he sat on that bench with her, after she told him the truth, he had felt safe. Truly safe, for the first time. When the edges of their hands touched - when he felt the warm of her skin, contrasting with the cold silver ring on her little finger - something inside him had awoken. That part of him that was missing seemed smaller. That feeling that he was lost was less crippling...
He frowned, dropping his hands from his face. Vision still felt lost. But... not alone. Why did he have this creeping feeling, this suspicion that - someone were watching him?
Meanwhile
"I met Vision today. He made me tell him how he died, but I only told him about Thanos. I pretended that my part in it never happened, and he seems to believe it... You guys can't tell him anything. He'll never... no, no, that's terrible..."
Wanda shook her head and erased the message she had planned to send to the compound group chat, before tossing her phone onto the bed in frustration. She dug her fingers into her scalp, hair snagging on her rings.
"What did you do?" She said to herself. Why did she lie?
It's not all bad, said the reassuring voice inside her head, that remarkably sounded like Carol. You made real progress with the meeting. He's not as afraid of you now, he trusts you a little more, and at least he remembers something...
But that 'something' is the most terrifying thing of his life. She never should have told him about Thanos. If all things to tell him about his old life, she had told him that? And she especially shouldn't have have lied about the other thing. His first death. The coup-de-grace, the thing that had driven Wanda to a dark place for so long. How the hell was she going to do this? How could she move forward, help Vision, all the while pretending that something so huge, so life altering, never happened?
Now she had more problems. What would Sam and Bucky think? Would they agree with her decision to pretend that it never happened? Probably not. She would no doubt have to tell Bruce, Rhodey, and Carol too, to guard the secret - probably everyone else alive who knew what happened in Wakanda, when the time came to reveal that Vision was alive. They couldn't hide him from the world forever. And for long was this going to be a secret? How long would it be until someone slipped up, how long until Vision, who had a supercomputer for a brain, realized that the 'fear' seemed too real to be an illusion? Then, in his fragile state of mind, he might believe anything...
That's called manipulation. He'll certainly see it that way when he finds out! When, if? Vision's memories of what happened in Wakanda were now a ticking time bomb. If he discovered the truth, who knew how he would react. They had never lied to each other; at the beginning of their relationship, they had promised never to lie to one another, never to keep secrets or feelings hidden. That promise was about to be broken several times over.
Wanda closed her eyes, pressing her clenched fist to her lips. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep back her tears. That promise was no longer valid if the relationship no longer existed. It would probably never be what it once was. But friendship? That was something they could reach, just not quite hold yet. He was alive, and right now, his wellbeing, how comfortable and safe he was, was all that mattered. That was the most important thing to her...
Then why did you let him go? Why did you leave him alone?
That bad feeling was back. She had felt it before the quinjet crashed, before Josephine had ambushed them and nearly made Vision kill Sam, Bucky and Carol. She had felt this way all evening - she could sense that someone was in danger. Vision was in danger...
A frown shadowed her face, as Wanda's skin began to crawl once more. Something felt wrong. It wasn't the lie that was making her uneasy...
Vision scanned his surroundings. Where even was he? Most streets at least felt familiar, but this - not at all. This was a dark, run down street that hadn't quite recovered from the effects of the decimation yet, which he was yet to learn about. The buildings were mostly boarded up and the walls were scrawled with graffiti. There was a single lamp post, the lantern glass shattered, offering only a flickering, dim bulb that barely lit up the ground below it. In his dazed state, he hadn't noticed where he was going.
It dawned upon Vision that this was a dangerous place to be. He wasn't in any real danger, he couldn't be physically harmed as far as he knew - but still, only an idiot would have walked down here, alone at night...
Splash. The sound of a boot in a puddle. He was about to have bigger problems than a fickle memory.
Vision immediately tensed as he finally noticed him. Somehow he hadn't seen a man standing to the side of the dark street, smoking; watching him. He couldn't phase into a wall now - the deep rooted fear of being discovered was more ingrained into him then the vibranium panels in his flesh.
Vision's first reaction to most things was natural curiosity. His initial thought: why would someone intentionally cause such damage to their lungs? Then he began to think into it more, as he felt the man's eyes burning into him, saw them glistening faintly with the dim glow of the cigarette lighting up his face. How long had the smoking man been standing there? How long had he been watching him? The man was large, heavy set and dressed in dark clothing, a hoodie and denim jeans. Vision's circuits were firing more quickly then usual, he could feel them, alongside the beat of his synthetic heart which was getting faster.
The lit cigarette resembled a tiny, glowing amber eye in the dark. The acrid smoke was mixing with the clouds of the smoker's breath in the freezing air, the burning smell flooding Vision's nose and mouth. The smoker was giving him the most intense stare, as if challenging him to make eye contact. Maybe he should just turn around and walk back the way he came...
Don't worry. Just keep walking. Act normal and try not to draw attention to yourself... As casually as he could, Vision turned and walked away, not too fast, but still fairly brisk.
The man was staring still; maybe he was misreading his stare. Maybe it wasn't sinister. Had his human form slipped somehow? A glance at himself and a quick sweep of his hand over his projected hair confirmed it was in place. There was no reason the stranger should be staring at him so intently. The man threw his cigarette into a puddle, and began walking towards him, hands in his pockets.
Vision picked up the pace, glancing over his shoulder. The man did too. Not a casual walk either - he walked briskly, with purpose. This wasn't a misunderstanding now. This wasn't right. This wasn't right at all.
Two more dark figures rounded the corner of the end of the street, stopping directly in Vision's path. The stone burned in his forehead, warning him too late that he had walked into a trap.
