Chapter 31: What Remains


In Baalbec there were lovers

Who plucked the passing flower;

In Sidon and Palmyra

Each flushed, immortal hour

...

Was gathered in the passing;

In Greece and Rome they knew

That from the living Present

The whitest blossoms grew.

...

The countless generations

Like autumn leaves go by:

Love only is eternal,

Love only does not die…

...

I hear the dying nations

Go by on phantom feet—

But still the rose is fragrant,

And still a kiss is sweet!

~Harry Kemp, "The Passing Flower"


The sky switched from the pale golds and grays of sunrise to the dark blue of a rainy evening the moment Vision flew through the energy barrier separating the outside world from Westview.

It had taken him a while to come to terms with the things Bruce and Agnes told him, and then he'd gone with Bruce to talk to Fury. (Agnes had not gone with them. They'd explained, once Vision regained the presence of mind to ask, that Agnes was a sorceress able to astral project beyond the barrier, and that her involvement was a secret to everyone but Bruce.) He had learned to his shock that Wanda had been nonexistent for five years during what they referred to as the Blip, a fact that had caused Vision to experience more anger toward Thanos than his own death. He'd been told the whole story of how the remaining Avengers traveled through time to borrow the Infinity Stones from their places in the timeline to undo the Snap, how after that happened the other Avengers, including Wanda, had joined the fight against Thanos and his forces, how Wanda had nearly killed Thanos herself, how Tony had sacrificed his own life to save them.

The fact that Tony Stark was dead was one other thing Wanda had failed to tell him in all their years together. The news hit him harder than he would have expected.

They had answered all his questions about what he'd missed. They told him about Monica Rambeau, whose mysterious disappearance from Westview a few years ago had been a persistent source of speculation. They answered all his questions about the anesthetic they'd been developing ever since Monica had told them about the Infinity Stones. (It was Fury who mentioned Bruce had been insistent that whatever plan they came up with to stop Wanda had to be nonfatal.) The plan had been for Monica to try to return to Westview, but they had not yet figured out a way for her to get close enough to Wanda to administer the anesthetic without Wanda recognizing her.

Bruce had given him a syringe of the anesthetic, but told him it was his choice whether to use it. If he had any other ideas, they were open to them.

But Fury had made some phone calls to begin preparations, just in case.

Even though he did not feel he'd been gone for long, if time truly went by faster in Westview, he had been gone from it for about two days. Wanda must be so worried.

There was a light on at their home. Vision phased through the roof. The house was quiet, but he soon found Wanda asleep on the couch, her hair drenched with rain, still wearing her jacket and shoes.

He knelt next to her, his eyes fixed on her face. She looked exhausted, with dark rings under her eyes. Was this the first sleep she'd gotten since he disappeared?

"Wanda..." He gently caressed her cheek.

Her eyes blinked open, then flew wide. "Vision?" She stood up and threw her arms around him. "You're alright! I've been so worried about you. Where have you been?"

He held her close, rubbing her back comfortingly, reveling in the feeling of her filling his arms and his heart. "It is a long story. Where are Tommy and Billy?"

"They're staying over at Mary-Jo's house. The whole town's been looking for you."

"I'm sorry I've caused so much trouble."

"Don't be. Everyone will be so happy you're back."

He drew out of their embrace just enough to kiss her. He kissed her for a long time, conscious that it might be for the last time.

He knew her well enough to know she would never willingly relinquish her control of the Infinity Stones if she knew there was even the slightest risk it might destroy him or their children.

And he knew himself well enough to know if he didn't go through with it now, he would never be able to bring himself to stop her.

He broke the kiss to hold her close again. She nuzzled the crook of his neck, and with one hand he stroked the back of her head.

With his other hand, he plunged the syringe of anesthetic into the back of her shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Forgive me," he begged, not letting go of her.

"Vizh?"

He felt her begin to go limp. He lowered her to the couch. If he ceased to exist when she lost consciousness, he didn't want her to fall to the floor and get hurt.

Her eyes locked on him. There was no anger or reproach in them, just fear, and maybe a hint of sadness.

"Forgive me, Wanda," he repeated, choking on his words. "Never doubt how much I love you."

Her eyes—the sorrow and fear in her eyes were for him. She knew.

And then her eyes fell closed.

Vision didn't take his eyes off her face. If he was about to disappear, he wanted her to be the last thing he would ever see.

But when the room suddenly brightened, he glanced up at the window.

The rainy evening had suddenly transformed into a slightly overcast morning.