They flew in awkward silence. Vision took the controls; they could easily put it in autopilot, but flying the jet gave them an excuse not to speak. Somehow this felt worse than their flight from Scotland. Did she resent him for following her? Was she secretly relieved? Feeling guilty for just leaving like that? All three?

Vision kept looking at her in the corner of his eye. It was only natural to feel a little betrayed by what she had done, but this feeling had dissipated quickly for him, knowing that in her shoes, he would probably do the exact same thing to keep her out of harm's way. He hated this - he hated how stiff and cold the atmosphere was between them. He didn't want to go into a fight like this, and seeing her this worried was almost unbearable. Vision eyed the screen, showing them flying somewhere over Morocco. Wanda hadn't entered any specific location, no co-ordinates or even a state - the jet was just heading in the general direction of the mainland.

"Where are we actually going?"

"Um." Wanda glanced at the screen. "That's the thing. I never actually found out where she was. I figured I would cross that bridge later."

The ice between them began breaking as they tried to narrow it down.

"Hudson Bay?"

"It got blown up."

"Oh, yes, I forgot..."

"It would have to be fairly close..."

"Did you see any distinguishing features? Any landmarks?"

"Not really. Just trees. Another bunker..." The sign. "There was one thing. I saw a blue road sign - there was a phrase on it, but I couldn't see all the letters."

"Show me?" Vision asked, and she opened her mind to him, showing him a blue, battered sign with peeling yellow letters half covered in snow. Suddenly he was flying, cold rain streaming down his face, the wind pulling at his cape. He saw the sign in full, and another puzzle piece fell into place. The Pine Tree State. Whistledownton; population 287.

"Maine."

Wanda's eyes flashed in surprise. "How do you know?"

"I've seen it before. I've flown past that sign." Like a man possessed, Vision was googling it, his hands flying across the screen to type out the settlement name he saw in his mind. A few pictures of a rural-looking town flashed onto the screen.

"Whistledownton?" Wanda had never heard of it.

"It's tiny, in the middle of some mountainous forest. The town would have supplies, and the forest would be the perfect hideout... it's an ideal place to hide." As he looked at the pictures it felt increasingly familiar. "It also looks like the perfect setting for a Stephen King novel." Wanda emitted a small, genuine laugh, making him smile.

"Okay. We have a lead." Wanda swivelled her chair around to face the closet. "I'd better suit up. I don't want to ruin Shuri's shirt."

Suit up. The phrase was familiar to Vision. "Captain Rodgers used to say that."

"Yes, he did." Wanda said, a little sadly, before perking up. "You remember something else, good." She opened the closet and rummaged through it. "I need a new suit." She murmured absent mindedly, tossing her jacket onto the bench. Without thinking, her hand curled around the hem of the shirt, starting draw it upwards - her brain scrambled briefly. Friendsfriendsnomemorynomemory. "Turn around, Vizh."

"Of course." Very quickly, Vision did so, focusing on the dark sky ahead.

Wanda changed as fast as possible, fumbling at her corset lacing. It wasn't that long ago when she didn't care about privacy around him - this felt strange. "If you look, I'll throw you out of this ship," she threatened, trying to distract him from zoning out into his untapped mine of memories. Please, don't have a flashback now. There were dozens of possible incidents between them involving the changing of clothes that might resurface. Or lack of clothes. She changed faster.

"I would never look." He listened a little too closely as fabric moved. Stop it.

"I'm decent." Wanda fell back down into her seat. Vision 's eyes widened a fraction, a flurry of memories rushing into his head at the sight of her in her suit. Her brow creased, recognising his expression. "More de ja vu?"

"Yes..." The screen flashed blue once again, a text message this time, from an unknown caller. "Only certain people know about this frequency." Vision leaned across and opened it.

Safe, we got the cat, hiding at you-know-who's house where Carol kicked the door down. Please tell us you're alive. SB.

"Thank god." Wanda sighed.

"You know who's house?"

"Nick Fury's house. It's off the grid." Vision looked a little puzzled, trying to remember this person. "You didn't know him well, anyway. I think you only met him a couple of times." Wanda quickly sent a response. Keeping this short in case it gets hacked. Safe, we'll come for you soon. "I won't tell them what we're going to do. They'll insist on coming and worry when they can't."

"I agree. It's best they stay hidden." Vision agreed.

"I wish they didn't get caught up in this." Wanda murmured. She winced, remembering the scrapes on Bucky's face, the dust and rubble on Sam's clothes. "They could have been killed... what if they're found? Fury's house is so hidden only Carol knows where it is... but what if they were followed? They could go to prison again..."

"Like you said, they're familiar with being fugitives. They'll be alright." He assured her, covering her hand. She looked at his hand over hers, smiling a little, sadness behind the curve of her lips. She looked tired again, eyes half open, her lids and underneath darkened. Of course, she had been awake all night. "Wanda, if you want to sleep, I'm happy to fly."

"I think I'll be..."

"Fatigue can impair decision making. And we've got a good hour of flying ahead. I'll be fine not sleeping, you know how my body works."

"I suppose I do know. Well... I won't argue." Wanda sank back into her chair, eyes easily falling shut. After a few minutes, Vision quietly phased through the pilot's seat, opening the closet and pulling out a blanket, draping it over her. Her hand gently caught his wrist for a moment; her voice came out thick with regret. "I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that. You deserve everything in the world. You deserve more."

Half asleep, Wanda didn't consider her answer. "Why would I want more when I can have you?" She released her grasp, leaving warm trails on his wrist where her skin had swept his, head falling against the headrest. Vision looked at her, touched, confused.

"Get some rest, Wanda. I'll wake you when we're..." Before he could even finish, her breathing became soft and slow; the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

He realized two things in that moment. One, he felt the overwhelming desire to kiss her forehead. And two, he had no doubt now what he was feeling, what he had been feeling for the last few weeks. She was the voice in his dreams, she was that presence he felt across the world even when he was in Josephine's haze.

All I remember, all I think about, is you. It's always been you. The blanket slipped off her shoulder, he reached over to tuck it back into place. The stone warmed in his forehead - then his mind flooded with colour. This memory was more vivid, more real, than any one yet - it was as if he were actually there. He could feel the warmth of the bed and the softness of the linen sheets. And...

Wanda lay across him, amber hair falling across her face. The sunlight poured in, making it look as though she had a head of flames. She was tracing the metal slots and panels in his chest; he could feel her ankle wrapped around his calf. She was wearing one of his sweaters, her bare shoulder peering out from what would normally be his collar.

"Wanda," he murmured, sweeping his fingertips lightly across her back.

"Mm?"

"My flight is in a few hours." He tilted his head to look at his clothes scattered across the floor, and the small duffel bag, where he could see his fake passport sticking out of the zip compartment. He really didn't want to pack. He didn't want to go.

"Sssh... stay." Her voice was fuzzy with sleep. "Tell Stark it got cancelled..."

"Theoretically, what do you think would happen if I missed my flight?" Her brow creased against his skin briefly as she lifted her chin off his chest. "I've never returned late before... but on average, it happens to almost everyone. He'll understand. If you'll have me for another few days..."

She cupped his face in her hands, sparks of delight lighting up her eyes, but her voice held a note of worry. "Are you sure it'll be okay? I don't want you to get in trouble..." He slowly sat up, arms gently wrapping around her and pulling her closer. He pressed a lasting kiss to her forehead, and she sighed happily, eyes closed in bliss.

"I won't. And you're worth it. You're worth everything."

Her thumbs gently swept across his face, and she smiled in the morning light before kissing him, her lips warm and sweetened by earl grey tea. "I don't deserve you." She whispered between kisses.

The memory ended. Vision fell back into the pilot's seat, remembering the curve of her smile underneath his lips. His synthetic heart began beating uncontrollably, almost with panic. It might not be real. It might be a dream... The thing was? Wanda was wearing a dark blue, knitted sweater with a frayed left sleeve. I still have it. It was exactly where he left it, still neatly folded in his chest of drawers back at the compound.

Miles away, somewhere in Maine, a pair of headlights turned the corner of what was barely a road.

The car came lumbering down the sludge-covered path. Cara's fingernails anxiously drummed on the wheel as she struggled to move the vehicle. "Come on." She hissed, impatiently. "Work with me, you piece of -" The car groaned in protest as her wheel caught a tree branch. Why the hell was this a hideout again? Whoever chose this place deserved to be shot.

She had to know what was going on. She had known Josephine for a very long time, and she knew something wasn't right this time. There was something about her voice, Josephine sounded almost scared, which wasn't normal - Josephine lived like she had a death wish, and she rarely showed her fear. Whatever this was, it truly scared her. Cara reached into the side compartment, pulling out her gun and shoving it into her waistband.

The hideout slowly dragged itself into view, and she frowned as she noticed the enormous truck parked to the side, and the footprints churning the mud and sludge. Nobody was answering her calls - were they all inside? They had thrown a fit after the failed attack. Douglas had nearly strangled Josephine in his fury, but luckily they were too focused on stopping the hybrid from bleeding to death to discuss the fallout. Siren must have come back to confront her... maybe that was why nobody was answering her calls, why Josephine had told her not to come back... arguments with Josephine were never pretty.

"Oh, shoot." Cara rushed her phone out of her pocket as it began to ring, heart briefly lifting, and then sinking at the name onscreen. "Hi, sweetie."

"I can't find my math book." Cara rolled her eyes, half annoyed, half amused.

"Your aunt should know where it is..."

"She's at the store, I've looked everywhere."

She followed the muddy boot-prints up to the entrance, punching the number on a keypad and trudging inside. "-have you checked the cupboard under the sink?" She threw her coat down onto the pile of other jackets, confirming that the others were here. Cara frowned - it was remarkably quiet...

"No, it's not there - Lulu, don't -" There was the sound of a dog barking in the background. "Are you coming home soon?"

"Not much longer, honey. We're at the Maine branch, but we should move back to New York very soon. Then I can come home and..."

"You said that weeks ago. Please, can't you just -" The child's voice faded. Cara began to gag, covering her mouth, trying not to be sick - what was that? "Mom? Are you there, mom?" Cara barely heard her son's voice as her ears started to ring, her heart beating dangerously fast, as she saw the red stains on the floor by the room she had left Josephine working in. Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone and ran up to the door.

Nothing could have prepared her for the nightmare inside that room. The floor was slick with blood that was still wet, alien footprints smearing through the puddles. She could only recognise them by their hair. "Holy shit. Holy -" Tears fell down her face as she covered her mouth, beginning to weep. "Riley... Sara..." Cara went to turn the handle - her stomach froze and turned over. Somebody had locked it from the outside. This was no accident, and of all the bodies in that room, she knew who was missing.

"Josie!" She shrieked. "What did you do? What did you -"

"I told you not to come back."

Cara whirled round and found herself almost nose-to-nose with Josephine. She stood limply in front of her, head tilted so much it looked almost like a door hanging on it's hinge. Blood dripped down her chin from the right corner of her mouth, and an empty syringe was clutched in her hand. Cara looked down to see a drop of reddish black trickle out of the needle end and onto the floor. She met Josephine's bloodshot, red eyes.

"Josie. You've known me for years." She whispered, slowly backing away, knowing exactly what was in the syringe. She reached for the back of her waistband, where her gun was pressing cold into the bottom of her spine. "I'm your friend. I was there for you when Luke died. I -"

There was a flash of light, and Cara hit the wall with a sickening thud. She crashed to the floor like a ragdoll.