As they showed him around the facility, Vision picked up on the unspoken tension. Sam and Bucky were clearly uneasy - they smiled, were very welcoming, but they didn't let him get too close, keeping a few paces ahead and casting what they didn't think were nervous looks over their shoulder at him. They didn't realise that Vision noticed, and his mood sank lower and lower as the tour went on.

His mind kept returning to why they were afraid of him. They can't help it. Not after what you did. He began to think about about the exact things he'd told himself he wouldn't think about. How hard he'd hit that man's head in Edinburgh, the eleven people...

Wanda had noticed his shift in mood, and a quick look into his mind told her why. She wanted to say something to Sam and Bucky, but what difference would that make? Nobody could ignore the instincts hard-wired into every human brain. Fear could not be controlled, not even by her.

"It's been a long time since they've seen you as yourself." Wanda said, in a low voice. "That's why they're so tense."

"Have you been reading my mind?" He asked, a little defensively.

Wanda's subconscious couldn't tell the difference between the old Vision - the one who didn't mind her casually reading his thoughts - and this new Vision. It was Wanda's turn to feel guilty, as she realized that she had been peering into his mind all day without really thinking about it or considering his privacy.

"I'm sorry. I'm just so used to doing it. If it makes you feel uncomfortable, I won't do it again."

"Please." Vision didn't forget what she said. "They're afraid of me. I don't blame them."

"Let them get to know you again. If it makes you feel better, when we first met, Sam was terrified of me." Wanda's face softened with another fond memory. "They can't help but be afraid of you. It's an involuntary response from their amygdala."

Vision's expression shifted.

"-and this is your room." Sam turned the handle to the door and allowed it to swing open.

Vision took a few steps inside. There was a single bed in the corner, a painting on the wall, with two chairs and a small table with a chess set on it. There was also a chest of drawers with a set of books stacked.

These items weren't brand new. The cabinet had a crack in it. The fabric of one of the chair arm rests was fraying, and some of the books had clearly been read. "Were these... mine?"

"The exact ones." Wanda said, leaning against the doorframe. The corner of her mouth curled into a fond smile when the first place he wandered to was the small table with the chess set. She mentally counted each piece, making sure that Goose hadn't helped himself while she was away. Where was Goose, anyway?

"I thought the original building was destroyed?"

"That's true." Bucky said. "When you all disappeared, your belongings were moved into the basement."

"Luckily Tony designed it to survive a nuclear war, so most of our stuff remained intact." Sam added. "Including yours. We'll give you a moment." They backed away from the door, leaving Vision alone in his room.

All of the books stacked were ringing bells. As he read every title, he could name at least one character, at least one location with each book. He opened the drawers of the cabinet, looking through the nearly folded clothes.

He lifted out a slightly creased navy sweater, noting how the seams seemed stretched - this was something he'd worn. Suddenly, looking at his suit and cape, Vision began to feel overdressed.

Outside the closed door, Bucky turned to face Wanda. "How did you persuade him to come with you?"

She explained the events of the last few days. "I guess that's why he trusts me. He remembers Thanos and Waverley Station - like I said earlier, please don't bring up Wakanda. I don't want to provoke any frighten memories."

Sam and Bucky nodded in understanding, and while Wanda appeared calm, her chest felt as though it were full of nervous butterflies. More like you don't want him to know the truth...

Shut up, Josephine.

The door to Vision's room opened, and all three of them took a double take when they saw he was wearing normal clothes.

"I felt overdressed." He admitted.

You're still overdressed, Wanda thought to herself. He had a familiar navy sweater on with black trousers, but there was a formal white shirt on underneath, the collar buttoned all the way up to his throat. He had dressed like this a lot in the first year before the team split - like he was going to an interview. Wanda's heart still melted, and the feeling of nervous butterflies felt less like worry and more like love.

There was the jingle of a bell, and Vision jumped almost a foot. Something fluffy had rubbed against his ankle.

"Goose!" Wanda exclaimed, sternly. Vision blinked incredulously at the ginger cat staring up at him. Had she really called him 'Goose', or had his circuits failed?

"...Goose?"

"We forgot to mention our temporary houseguest." His confusion flew over Wanda's head as she scooped him up, and Goose immediately began to purr loudly in her arms. "Goose, this is our old friend, Vision." The cat looked at him as she said this, as if he could understand what she was saying.

"Also," Bucky added. "He's an alien cat. Try not to piss him off."

Vision shook his head. An alien cat called Goose. This couldn't get any more strange. Goose wriggled out of Wanda's grasp, only to immediately go back to Vision, nudging him with his nose and meowing loudly. With a little uncertainty, he crouched to pet Goose on the head.

"Now that is weird. He's usually a jerk to everyone." Sam looked confused as Goose bumped his head against Vision's hand in response, purring madly. "He likes you."

Goose's warm welcome and the change of clothing helped to shift Sam and Bucky's tension. They were a lot more relaxed as they went through a few rules and showed Vision around the compound. Then they passed a certain wall.

"The team throughout the years." Bucky said, pulling his foot away from Goose as the flerken began to chew at his shoelace.

About thirty framed photos took up this section of the wall. Vision looked at them all - smiling, happy, familiar strangers. There were some people up there he knew he'd never met, like the blue-skinned woman with metal inserts in her face. But others...

A new kind of tension emerged - this was the big moment. How many people could he recognise?

Wanda looked curiously at him. "Can you name some of them? Don't feel under pressure, just, if you can... "

Vision walked up and down the side of the wall, eyes moving across every photo. He stopped at a frame. "Tony and Miss Potts." He said, not asking - he knew. In the photo, the both of them were smiling, peering down into something swaddled with blankets.

For a few minutes, Vision tried to identify other people, struggling - out of all the others, he could only name Rhodes and Peter Parker. However, he stared at a photo of a young man with silver hair for quite some time. Wanda tried not to feel disappointed when Vision could not name her brother.

"I always liked this photo." Sam interjected. "It was our first - well, only - christmas before the team split."

Vision was on one side, floating several feet off the ground, putting various ornaments on an enormous tree in perfect horizontal lines. Sam stood just below him, passing up ornaments with one hand while pointing to other branches as he did.

"No - Vision, buddy, they don't have to be in uniform lines!"

On the other side, Wanda was using her powers to place a star on a branch she couldn't reach, while trying to hide her face to avoid being caught by the camera. An older woman with red hair was posing next to her, grinning at whoever was taking the photo.

It was a lovely photograph. It seemed so... normal.

You're not normal. You don't deserve normal.

"Excuse me," Vision said, before briskly walking down the corridor. "I just need some air."

Surprisingly, the one who followed him this time was Bucky. He knew the look on Vision's face - he saw it every time he looked in the mirror.

"I'll talk to him. I think I know what's on his mind."

Vision stood on the balcony in his human form, staring into the distance. Had the three men from Edinburgh been alright? How could Sam tolerate being in the same room as him after he'd nearly drowned him? How many times had he almost killed Wanda herself?

He kept seeing the look on her face, of heartache and disappointment as he stayed the same, as he stayed far from the person she knew as her friend. He wanted to remember, he really did, but it was hard to concentrate on that when there was so much noise and guilt trapped inside his head...

"Hey." He turned, surprised to see Bucky, leaning against the sliding glass door. "What's going on?"

"It's just a lot to take in." Vision admitted. "All this..."

"That's not all, though, is it?" Bucky prompted. "I know how you feel. I was like you, once. You might remember, I don't know - but Hydra used me as well."

Vision's gaze moved to Bucky's metal arm, realizing what struck him about it.

"You were the the Winter Soldier."

"You remember? Good." Bucky stepped forward to lean on the balcony wall, looking out across the lawn. "Believe me, I committed far worse atrocities then you did. I know it's difficult, but you just have to move on. You can't waste your life regretting things that were beyond your control."

"How did you cope with it all?"

Bucky fiddled with the metal panes of his arm with his normal hand, his expression turning serious. "It's not easy. Cope is a strong word. It took a long time to fix my brain, and even longer for me to accept that I wasn't to blame for what happened. That guilt doesn't really go away. But I found ways to manage."

"Like what?"

"Keep your mind busy. Help people out wherever you can. Let your friends help you and don't push them away. I had a great friend to help me. He might be gone now, but... he helped me to accept that I was a victim, as you were." Bucky looked toward the lake, thinking about something Wanda said to him.

"Maybe it would help to write down what you want to leave behind on a piece of paper, and either burn it, or lock it in a box and throw it in the lake."

Vision looked toward the lake as well. Could writing it down and disposing of it be that simple?

"Do you think it will help?"

"I haven't tried it personally, but Wanda says it helped her let something go." For some reason, Vision thought about the photograph of the young man with silver hair. "You have nothing to lose."

Vision looked at the piece of paper and the pen in his hand. What to write? What did he want to leave behind?

He wrote down a few things.

Siren.

Last few months.

Thanos.

Vision placed the piece of paper in the small woven casket Sam had brought; it had been an old desk organizer with small latches to close it. Then they headed out toward the lake, with Goose trotting behind them, staying close to Vision the whole time.

They arrived at the lakeside. Vision looked at the case on his hands, thinking, having second thoughts. "It seems too simple."

"It's meant to be a psychological thing. It doesn't always work, but sometimes it helps. You know," Wanda said, gazing across the lake. "We - I - did something similar to this a few years ago. It helped. Even if it doesn't work for you, there's no harm in trying."

Vision nodded, before he looked back at the thought about saying a few words, but none came. His grip tightened on the case, as an icy voice mocked him. It sounded like Josephine again. Throwing a box into a lake isn't going to change anything...

"You were a victim." Bucky spoke over the voice. "Put it to rest now."

Vision drew his arm back over his shoulder, and threw the case with all his might. It sailed across the lake, further than any human could throw, and landed with a splash. It floated briefly before the water claimed it and pulled it under the surface.

He watched the surface of the lake until it stopped rippling, and there was the crunch of lake stones as Wanda stepped forward to stand by his side.

"How did that feel?" She asked.

Vision gazed across the still water, quiet for a moment. "Better."

On his first night sleeping at the compound, Vision had a dream. A small part of him believed it was a memory, but he couldn't be sure. It was probably just a dream... his busy mind making up some kind of strange parallel to what happened earlier...

Vision stood at the lakeside with Wanda. She was hugging an old jewerelly box to her chest, the lid lifted so that she could look at the message for a moment longer. Written in Sokovian, it translated to: 'Goodbye, brother.'

"I'm not sure this will work, Vizh." Wanda said, with a half-hearted smile. "I appreciate the thought, I really do, but I don't think it's as easy as locking it away."

"There's no harm in trying." Vision said, gently. "It's meant to have a psychological effect. I researched it, therapists use a similar technique. Writing your thoughts on a piece of paper can be a cathartic experience, it can help unresolved feelings of loss and - I'll stop talking now."

He cut himself off, not wanting to irritate her with his over analysis or worse, hurt her feelings by talking about grief. Instead, Wanda was trying not to smile. "You're so sweet when you go off on a tangent."

She hesitated before closing the latch of the jewerelly box, looking at the paper, the last goodbye to her brother, one final time.

"Alright. Let's do it." She hugged the box to her chest. "I know it's been a year, Pietro. Don't see this as me trying to forget you, because I never will. I just have to say goodbye now."

Red light streamed from her hands to cocoon the box. The box began to float across the lake, and when it reached the middle, she eased it into the water, and then dropped her hands, allowing it to sink.

"How did that feel?" Vision asked. Wanda gazed across the still water, quiet for a moment.

"Better."