Chapter Seven

Kutna Hora, Czech Republic

VISION

The house was a cottage on the edge of Prague proper, rented by the owner through a website Vision had found. He had not been there before he went to see Wanda, so they struggled their way through the check-in instructions and fumbled over the lockbox.

"Vis," Wanda said, "Couldn't you just reach it and grab it?"

He phased his fingers through the little box and produced the key. "I think you're the brains of this operation," he said.

"Always have been," Wanda said.

She was taken by the charm of the house. The loveseat was soft, and the windows were big, and there was even at TV.

"You wouldn't believe the dumps we've been in this past year," she said. "I forgot what it's like to have someplace that feels like home." She dramatically collapsed onto the couch and then tried to pull Vision down next to her. He let her. She laughed. Vision adored that sound.

Wanda asked, "Do you think you'll ever have a house of your own?"

Vision had never put much thought into the idea. He told Wanda as much.

"I want one someday," she said. "Nothing big and fancy. Maybe an extra bedroom or two, for guests, or kids. A lawn with green grass and a few dandelions, just so it isn't perfect. Someplace that is my own. I've only ever lived in other people's houses."

Vision said, "If I had a house, it would have a porch, and big windows."

"And a nice dining room table," Wanda said.

"I wouldn't need a dining room table, because I don't eat," Vision said.

"But I do."

"Oh, of course. Then I'll need a table. And a kitchen, with a big pantry."

"A regular-sized pantry will do," Wanda said. Then, "Do you think this TV works?"

They turned it on, and flipped through channels. One was showing reruns of old sitcoms, which were Wanda's favorite. She didn't say as much, but it seemed as if it had been a long time since she could just sit and watch TV. They laughed and watched late into the night, Wanda snuggled against Vision's shoulder.

When Vision turned to ask her a question, she was fast asleep. Gently, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, where he hoped she would be more comfortable. Behind him, the TV clicked off of its own accord.

Vision set Wanda down and drew the covers over her.

"Vis," she said, eyes mostly closed. She patted the opposite side of the bed. Vision carefully lay down. He had never slept in a bed, or slept at all for that matter, and he had certainly never shared a bed with anyone else. Wanda inched closer and drifted easily back to sleep. For most of the night she was very still, though at times Vision could tell she was dreaming. Then, she tossed and turned and rolled away from him, but still he stayed. For a while, he closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to dream.

In the morning, Wanda smiled and leaned across the pillow to kiss him. "Did you lay there all night?" she asked.

"I didn't want to wake you by moving," Vision said.

"Liar," Wanda said playfully. She knew as well as he that he could have phased off the bed without causing her to stir.

"Alright," he said. "I like watching you sleep."

Wanda scrunched up her nose. "You know that sounds a little creepy, right?"

"I didn't mean…I…"

"It's okay, Vis. I like that you're still there."

There was nothing to eat in the house, so they went out to find Wanda breakfast. A friendly waitress in a diner told them about a little town in the countryside that they should see. They set off on the train to Kutna Hora. The town had a Cathedral and a coin museum inside a former palace. Eventually, though, they found their way to the outskirts, where a crowd converged around a little chapel, built smack in the middle of a graveyard.

"What do you think it is?" Wanda asked.

"I don't know," Vision said. "It is certainly very popular."

Inside the chapel door, a smiling tour guide handed Vision a pamphlet. Wanda stared at the upper wall in awe. Vision didn't understand until he followed her line of sight: human skulls were mounted on the wall. They were made into the shape of something like a star with the accompaniment of various bones of the arm and leg.

"It's an ossuary," Vision said.

Without taking her eyes off the bones, Wanda descended the steps into the lower room. Garlands of browning skulls swept across the ceiling. Pyramids of femurs stacked in the corners, just out of reach. And in the center of the room, a chandelier containing every bone in the body suggested an alternate shape of human.

"So much death," Wanda said.

Vision glanced at the pamphlet. "It's estimated that this building contains the skeletons of anywhere between 40,000 and 70,000 people," he said.

"Why would anyone put it on display like this?" Wanda said. Then, "Doesn't it bother you?"

Vision could tell that Wanda was more than a little bothered. It must be discomforting, to stand among the ardent proof of your own mortality. But Vision saw mostly mechanics: the physical parts that made up people. And, he saw art.

"I don't think it's about death," Vision said, "I think it's about beauty, and putting order to what is seen as unorderly."

"Maybe," Wanda said. She wiped her eyes. "Tell me about this place. Come on, I know you read the pamphlet."

Vision did. Originally the Sedlac Abbey, the area became a wildly desirable burial ground after an abbot sprinkled dirt there from Golgatha, where the Christian savior Jesus was said to have been crucified. Following the Black Death in the mid-fourteenth century, thousands were buried at the abbey.

"When they wanted to build the church, they gave the task of exhuming mass graves to a half-blind monk, who did all this," Vision said.

Wanda reached out a hand and nearly touched a skull in front of her, but reconsidered. "Maybe it is beautiful," she said. "Maybe."

WVWVWVWVWVW

The trains were running late due to a railroad strike, so Wanda and Vision lingered on the platform, enjoying a comfortable silence.

A distant mechanical whirring came into focus, and Vision stood to scan the horizon.

"Do you see the train?" Wanda asked.

"No. It's something else." He squared off, ready to blast a drone as it dipped into sight.

"Redwing," Wanda said.

She was right – it was Sam Wilson's drone. His voice floated over the device's speakers as it hovered near Wanda. "And where have you been?"

Wanda swatted at the drone, but it easily dodged her. "I don't need your permission to go out for the night, Sam. I'm an adult."

"An adult fugitive with a big old target on her back," Redwing said in Sam's voice. "And who is this? No, wait – you're kidding right? Vision, is that you? Man, did you get a haircut or something? I'm joking. You never had hair to begin with."

"Hello, Sam," Vision said.

"So Natasha told you, then?" Wanda asked.

"She had to, since you didn't come home last night," Sam said. "Steve thought you got arrested or kidnapped. He wanted to send the whole party out looking for you. You should be glad Natasha ratted on you, and I convinced both of them to send Redwing instead of coming after you ourselves."

"Well Redwing found me, so he can go now."

"Wanda," Vision said. "They're only concerned about your safety." He felt partially responsible for their apprehension; he hadn't thought things through. Really, he had only thought how nice it was to spend more time with Wanda.

"You are coming back, right?" Sam asked.

Wanda glanced at Vision. She said, "Of course I'm coming back. Vis is only here for a few days. And I know you need my help on the next mission."

"How long are you in town, man?" Sam asked.

"Two more nights," Vision said. He wished it was longer.

"Alright, then have her home by Saturday."

"Sam." Wanda snarled.

"I promise I'll take care of her until then," Vision said. The drone zipped into the sky just as the train rolled up to the platform. There was standing room only because of the compact schedule. They swayed together in the hot car, Vision looming behind Wanda. He could sense she was still unsettled, and he wanted to see her face. Since he could not, he put his hand on her shoulder.

Wanda said, "You know, you don't really have to take care of me. Everyone always thinks they have to take care of me."

He kissed the top of her head and said, "We can take care of each other."

He wanted to ask her if she'd been on the missions with the others, the ones that put them face to face with the Human Militia. But the train had too many ears, so Vision was quiet.

WVWVWVWVWVW

Wanda seemed to have cheered up by the time they reached the cottage. She kissed Vision in the doorway, then asked if he had any extra shirts.

"If I'd known I'd be staying this long, I would have brought some pajamas," she said.

Wanda changed into one of Vision's button-ups and threw her clothes into the combination washer-dryer while Vision waited patiently in the living room. When she came into the room, Vision said, "Wanda," intending to ask her about the Militia, then stopped short when he saw her. There was something about her in that oversized shirt that took his words away. If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was short-circuiting.

"Vis, are you blushing?"

"I don't blush," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure.

"I guess I should wear your shirts more often," Wanda said. Vision wouldn't mind that. But then, he wouldn't mind if she was wearing nothing at all.

He pulled himself back towards coherency. He said, "Have you been going on missions with the others?"

"Sometimes," Wanda said. "They still try to keep me out of things when they can, but I do have a certain useful skillset."

"Indeed," Vision said. "So you know, then? Why we were attacked in France?"

"Yeah," she said. "I guess I don't blend as well as I think I do. But I can't change my face like you." She touched his cheek, just as she had in London, and it pulled his focus again. He had more questions to ask, but her skin was soft and her eyes were on his. "Why haven't you changed back?" Wanda asked.

"Hm?" Vision said.

"Your face. No one will see you in here," Wanda said.

Vision hesitated. He said, "Wouldn't you rather I look – human?"

Wanda pulled her hand away. Vision was somehow expecting her face to look the way it did at the ossuary, contorted in something like horror among all those bones. He didn't have a skeleton. He didn't know how it felt to see your insides out. He could only imagine, the same way he imagined he was fully human when he was with Wanda.

Wanda said, "I'd rather you be you."

"My inhumanness doesn't bother you?"

"You're one of the most human people I know. You're all the good things about humanity. Kindness. Curiosity. Besides," – she wove her fingers through swirls of scarlet light and pulsing energy – "I'm not exactly normal either."

"No," Vision said. His face tingled as his pseudo-human skin fizzled back into the red synthetics underneath.

Wanda ran her hands up his shoulders and to his neck. She said, "There you are."