Chapter 6: Perspective
A/N: Happy Friday, everyone! Thank you for sticking with this story! It's shaping up to be a long one, but I'm going to do my best to keep up this updating schedule. As always, this chapter has been beta'd by the lovely and talented crotchety_old_emu over on AO3
The next time Wanda wakes up, sunlight is pouring into the room, casting light on everything except her. In her peripheral, she sees Vision and Steve sat by a window. Their heads ducked together in conversation. Clint and Natasha stand huddled together at the end of her bed, murmuring in hushed tones, their backs to her.
She sits up slowly, straining to hear what they're saying. She's still sore despite her wounds healing almost entirely. When she stands, there's a series of audible 'pop's in her bones that gives her away.
Despite being littered throughout the room, her teammates turn to face her in almost perfect synchronicity. If everything didn't feel so utterly out of control, she might have laughed at the sight. Instead, she gives them her best impersonation of a smile and asks, "So, what's the plan now?"
"What, no hello? And I thought we were friends." Nat's smile is genuine, or at least Wanda thinks it is. Either way, she appreciates the gesture.
"First things first, you need a clean bill of health from the female Doogie Howser over there." Leaning on the frame of the entryway with Scott, Sam motions towards where Shuri stands. She's hunched over a table, fiddling with something, as seems to be her default state.
She doesn't turn around, too busy with whatever she's doing. Instead, saying over her shoulder, "Yes, fine. The mutant girl will live. Go, please."
"Mutant? I mean, I guess, technically, red hair is a mutation." Scott grimaces. "Kinda harsh, though, considering."
"I'm not talking about her hair." Shuri puffs, walking towards the group. But she's looking directly at Wanda when she asks, "You possess unique abilities most humans do not, correct?"
Wanda nods, confused and unsure of where she's going with this.
"Does anyone else here have special powers?" Cap looks as if he's about to say something but gets shot down before he gets the chance. "Not as the result of experimentation."
"I'm super good-looking." Clint grins, throwing a wink at Nat. "That count?"
"The Maximoffs retained their powers after exposure to the mind stone. Your powers are a result of experimentation, as well, are they not?" Vision is staring at Wanda. He has been since Shuri called her "mutant girl." She thinks she should say something; stop letting everyone else in the room do the talking for her. She just can't bring herself to care about anything but getting somewhere safe.
"The mind stone doesn't give anyone powers except for you, as it is a piece of your being. Otherwise, everyone who's ever been exposed to it, and didn't die, would have abilities too. Do you know anything about who you are?" Shuri's words aren't harsh, not really. But they sting just the same. Wanda doesn't want to have this conversation, to have to answer questions.
When she finally does speak, she feels the weight of everyone's gaze at once and shifts uncomfortably, "Shouldn't we be leaving?"
The Vision sits idly behind the control column of the stolen quinjet, the route programmed and autopilot system engaged. Behind him, his teammates are in various stages of sleep, spread out as much as they can be throughout the small aircraft. It'd be easy to mistake him for doing the same, completely still but for the gears rotating in his half-lidded pupils.
Far from it, though. Vision is learning. He's running at least a thousand search variations, reading any articles that seem even remotely related, working through every file he found on the Raft for anything that might spark something. He's reading what looks to be a promising thesis from the University of Oxford when the air beside him shifts, nearly imperceptively, with the movement of someone slipping into the seat beside his.
"How far out are we?" Natasha pulls one of her legs beneath her in the time it takes him to blink. He thinks humans will never fail to astound him.
"Roughly two hours, by my estimation," Vision pulls up the map, allowing her to see for herself, "We should be arriving just before dawn."
"Wonderful." They sit together in comfortable silence, watching the clouds in the distance. He almost forgets that she's there until she speaks up again. "Y'know, when Steve told me that you were here, I was surprised. That doesn't happen to me often."
"I believe I made a mistake when I signed The Sokovia Accords. I intend to rectify it."
"That part, I understand. Steve said you were the one who got everyone out, even destroyed all the CCTV footage in the process."
"I was able to retrieve Wanda. However, it was the Captain who assisted the rest of the team."
"The way he tells it, you unlocked all the doors so they could get out on their own. He just led the way. Sounds like you saved them to me."
He hasn't thought about it that way, Vision supposes. He isn't sure how he's expected to respond in this situation, so he waits for her to continue.
"Why haven't you gone back to the compound yet, Vision?" She levels a stare at him, "You could leave right now, tell Tony you went on a vacation. There'd be no evidence to prove otherwise. No reason for you to be hiding, or on the run. You've already more than made up for signing."
Natasha isn't wrong. He could phase through the floor, start flying northwest, and be in New York before nightfall. He could lie to Stark about where he's been. Pretend to help him figure out how everyone else escaped. Maybe he might have- if things had gone according to plan. However, seeing Wanda injured had forced a shift of perspective. An upending of what he once believed, a redefining of what it means to feel, to be alive.
And, the truth is, "I don't want to."