Hey Guys! You did it! I can't believe it, really. I'm just really, really happy.
So, I have to go and do something, like right now, but I just wanted to let you guys know that your support is what keeps this story going sometimes. I usually write from my Iphone, but suddenly the Google Docs app is wigging out on me... So stupid. Anyways, I'm trying to fix that as well, but updates might be coming in a bit slower, I'm sorry to say.
But, I made this chapter longer, and I'm still writing up what I want to do and where I want this story to go, and I've used the comments section as a treasure trove of ideas (where you will all get your shout outs), so I'm happy to say that this is going on schedule.
With Civil War coming out in May, I'm going to try and end the story in late April, maybe. Early May? Either way, then I can continue this story as an arch of sorts, with Percy showing up sometime during Civil War.
Anyways, tell me what you think about that, and as always enjoy the chapter!
Disclaimer: I'm not Rick or Marvel.
Vision:
He didn't need the heart monitor to know she was having a nightmare.
Her skin was as pale as the moon. Her gown was soaked in sweat, and tears were pouring from her eyes like water from faucets. She thrashed around like an animal, and she was crying out.
He sat by her side, her hand in his. In all reality, he felt very much in control of the situation. His mind was a complex matrix, as his father had wanted. He could connect to the Internet faster than Jarvis, and he found the serious sources that were supposed to tell the truth.
But the internet is full of liars. Truth is the hardest commodity to come by.
All he has are opinions and folk remedies. He combs through every single scrap of information, biased or not, about how to keep people from experiencing nightmares. The information isn't lacking, but the truth seems far from it. Besides, Wanda would dismember him if she woke with honeydew all over her face.
His hand still gripped tightly around hers, and he didn't want to know what would happen if he let go. He took to humming, and he wasn't too bad at mimicking the masterpiece that was Beethoven's fourth concerto, but Wanda didn't respond. Her brain waves were in insurmountable turmoil.
When Vision had heard that Wanda had these powers, and that she'd used them on his father's consciousness, he'd become insistent on knowing what caused them, and how they became so grossly mutated by the Hydra scientists. She described his actions as 'pestering'.
But when she'd told him that it was a curse, and explained, in detail, exactly what Ultron had been planning, and from a human perspective, he'd understood. She'd told him that her days of using it were over, and that power would never be used again.
She'd lied to herself. She'd done something she'd said she'd never do, and the irony was not unfounded by Vision. Percy had said that they couldn't know if they'd ever betray him. Wanda just did this morning.
So he sat beside her, hoping she'd wake soon and that Percy would accept her apology.
…
When she woke, it was with tears.
She'd calmed considerably, her heart rate becoming less unstable and more controlled, albeit still thundering in her chest. Her breath had become less erratic, and she had stopped sweating. Vision's analysis: She'd need real rest after a quick stroll around the tower so that her nerves did not keep her awake.
He noticed that her brain waves were evening out when she'd hit the tenth hour of her restless slumber. Vision debated a sedative be placed in her vein, but decided against it. For the record, this was not because she could dismember him.
When she was fully conscious, her eyes shot open like adrenaline was running through her veins. The look in her eyes, compared to the various image searches his own mind made, were that of a cornered animal. But something deeper, more instinctive inside of Vision said there was a weariness behind her eyes. A burden she was just starting to bear.
But what really got Vision's mind in overdrive was that it resembled Percy's own expression, nearly to perfection.
And then she'd seen James in the bed beside her, and understood on some level that was her fault as well. She'd examined every inch of the room around her, as if making sure her nightmare was over.
Then, she burst into tears.
Vision watched for a few moments, mesmerized by this human breaking down before his eyes. There was something beautiful about it, the way her emotion rushed out of her in such a way. Still, the human, normal side was uncomfortable. He wanted her to stop.
So he placed his free hand over the one she was still clasping onto. His red skin clashed with her pale complexion, but be liked to think of that as being normal. At least, for them it could be.
"Wanda." He said, his tone flat, but warm. His accent was evident.
She sniffled for a few moments, staring down at their interlocking hands. She's shaking, and scanning her brain waves doesn't explain why she might be like this. Trauma, most likely. Liquids, something cool should h-
She's hugging him.
Vision had been given hugs before, but never so abruptly. It was… Warm, and not rushed like any of the other hugs had been. Wanda was bent over at the waist, her arms wrapped around him tightly. She's not sobbing, but he can feel the dampness of tears going into his suit.
He had to run three programs and simultaneously Google 'how to hug properly', but he managed to wrap his own arms around his friend. It was… It was strange. He was undergoing some sort of chemical change, and his dopamine levels were spiking upwards the longer that they stayed in this position. He observed that his own concern grew every time she sobbed loud enough for him to hear.
"What have I done?" She whispered into the fabric of his suit. The vibrations against his skin was both easily recognizable, but also… New. It… 'Tickled'.
"What have I done?" She repeat in horror.
Vision stopped pondering the thoughts he was having about this new discovery in his emotion receptors. His attention needed to be turned towards Wanda.
In a rhythmic and hypnotic way, he began to rub her back with his free hand, as if she were an infant that had woken from a nightmare.
It didn't feel so far from the truth.
It stayed like that for a few minutes, and Vision's knowledge of the situation was sudden cut off. This was human emotion, for which he was not entirely prepared. The basic knowledge clicked into his mind that this position was not comfortable for her, therefore he should let go.
His mind said yes, but something deeper inside of him said no.
She eventually had to break the hug, quickly sitting up straight and wiping the stray tear or two that appeared in her eye. She sniffled a little, then lightly coughed into her closed fist. Her voice still cracked as she spoke. "I need to go see Percy."
Vision had to blink a few times to regain any connection to his logical side. Tony would call it 'buffering'.
Liquids, he remembered. Her throat must be parched.
He took the cup off of the bedside table, handing it to her. When he noticed the shaking in her hands, he helped her bring the cup to her lips. He spoke as she drank. "Percy is resting, as is James. I suggest that you follow their wise example."
Wanda put the cup back, though it was nearly drained. She shook her head, and her voice was much clearer. "You and I both know he must be restless. Please, let me go see him."
Vision shook his head, choosing to play the stubborn friend. He crossed his arms in front of him, like Clint would do when he's scolding one of the other Avengers. Vision understood that Wanda thought of Clint as a role model. "Be that as it may, in your condition, I cannot recommend you leave the bed."
She scowled, folding her own arms. "I'd rather not have to go through you to get to him. Just- give me ten minutes." She bargained.
Vision weighed the options in his mind. She was as strong as he was, though not nearly as intelligent. She was clever, and had the abilities to warp minds and manipulate objects around her. He could phase through solid objects and shoot his crystal's beam at her, but figured that that wasn't an option. He enjoyed Wanda in one piece.
Each spar they'd had ended in a defeat for Vision. Her illusions fooled even his computer like mind, and she always found a way past his complex plans and algorithms.
His odds were not for him, in usual circumstances.
But… Were they facing normal circumstances? All these deities aside, Wanda was incapacitated. He chose to hold his ground. "I'm sorry, but you need to sleep. At least for another hour."
Wand as scowl turned into a challenging look. Vision almost phased out of there at the face she was making. Her irises tinged red, like The Aether.
And then the spark died and crackled, fizzing out like a blown fuse. She winced, pressing a palm to her apparently aching forehead. He felt a sudden fluctuation in her brain waves, equal to pain. Vision's gaze softened, and he reach out to feel her temperature.
She grabbed his hand and twisted it hard. A tendril of pain began to inch its way up her arm and he grunted. He briefly wondered why she had switch from pain to aggression so quickly.
Right, he remembered. She's a woman. Clint has warned me I'd never truly understand what they're thinking.
He was tossed to the ground, his body incapacitated in his present state, his muscles and nerves pinched tightly. Red swam at the edge of his vision, and he didn't need to be a synthetic life form to know that her power was the reason he wasn't able to move.
She stood on shaky legs, padding her way to the curtain, her hand alternating between her head and objects for stability. It only took her a moment before she stood in front of Vision, her paper nightgown replaced with her familiar jacket and jeans. Her face was absent of makeup, though her expressions were well read. Vision could judge through facial expression, brain patterns, and intuition ( they were best friends, after all).
Regret. Physical and emotional pain. Sorrow. She kneeled beside him carefully, reaching forward and tapping the yellow stone in his forehead.
This he'd felt before. Her ability to relay certain brain functions into his own mind. She was trying to get him to fall asleep, as she'd done during many sparring sessions. He fought internally for consciousness, going still and trying to reserve energy to divert towards his mind.
But then her voice was in his mind, and her mouth by his ear. Her voice was soft, full of caring and love that he would not of thought possible from Wanda Maximoff. "Sleep, little Vision. I'll be back in ten minutes. Thirty, tops." She assured. Perhaps he was already asleep, but he felt a pair of lips press quickly to his cheek.
His eyes began to close on their own accord, lulled to sleep by the promise of a safe return.
His last coherent thought before Morpheus (might as well embrace Percy's father's side, eh?) took him into his realm was that Wanda would never go easy on him.
He could get used to that, he supposed.
Sam:
He'd been standing next to the door, wondering if knocking was out of the question or not.
He'd been arguing with himself for nearly ten minutes, turning away and towards the door several times. He would put his closed fist inches from the door, then Sam would drop it again.
What if he doesn't want to talk?
He's Percy. He wants this out of the way.
What if he tells me to leave?
Then you give it a day.
But I have to tell him. He needs to know.
Then for goodness sakes, soldier! Tell the boy!
He lifted his fist again, because yeah, Percy needed to know what was about to happen.
Still, he couldn't bring himself to knock.
Okay, this time for sure. He took a deep breath, about to knock, for real this time.
Then the lock disengaged and the door swung open.
Percy stood inside, wrapped up in a blue comforter and a serious case of bedhead. His hair was a mess of black, sticking up in odd directions, like when Sam used to fly with a full head of hair (it only happened once). His skin was paler than normal, and he blinked slowly a few times, like he'd just woken up.
He sighed. "I could hear your indecision from across the room, Wilson." He held the door open, the hinges opening silently. Percy didn't wait for Sam to follow, choosing instead to turn back towards his room. He waved a hand back distractedly. "And I know that you can somehow make split second choices on the battlefield, but you'd have been out there for another twenty minutes if I'd let you."
Sam went in quietly, closing the door behind him as well. The room was as big as Sam's first apartment, which wasn't much, but still impressive. Tony Stark wouldn't of had it any other way, flaunting his money the way he did. "It was a tough decision. I wasn't sure you wanted to talk to me at all." He admitted.
Percy let out a dry chuckle, taking off the comforter. He was in a blue t-shirt and some pajama pants, and Sam could believe Percy was the college student he should be. Fighting off student loans and starvation instead of monsters and mercenaries. Sam felt a pang in his stomach. "I've got to admit, I expected the cold shoulder from everyone, Sam. Even you. Still hurts, though."
Sam's eyebrows raised, and he took a step towards the pictures around the room. Their weren't many, but the few that were there had every one of the Avengers, and a few of just him and Hope. Sam had only met the girl a few times, but she might as well have been Sam's sister as well. "It's not the… Family stuff that's getting to me. I can handle aliens, I can handle robots, I can handle gods." He said. "I just figured you could use some space."
Percy ran a hand slowly through his head, his gaze landing on a picture by his bed. Sam recognized Hope, smiling up at the camera. "Huh." Percy said, tracing the frame with his finger. The gap where his missing finger was stood out beside the rest of his fingers. "That's what they thought, too. Isolation doesn't solve anything, Sam. I don't want another prison. I'd like my friends back, please." He said. When he turned, Sam was struck again by just how old the kid looked. Hunched over, bags under his eyes… He looked fifty, not twenty three.
Sam took a step forward, shaking his head. "You act like we aren't still your friends."
Percy seemed to be contemplating this before he nodded. "With all the lying and secrets I've been keeping, I'd think you weren't anymore."
Sam shook his head. "Are you going to stop being our friend because the secret is out?" He asked.
Percy shook his head, waving his hand absentmindedly again. "No, no. Steve seems to have that state of mind, though. And I can't really blame him, can I? My mistakes causing this." He took a seat at the foot of his bed.
Sam shrugged, jumping up slightly to sit on the dresser. "You said it yourself, though. If it were up to you, we would have never known. How could you have known you were going to get dragged back into your family stuff?"
Percy let out a single bark of laughter. "With my history, I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner, really. My luck doesn't ever last, Sam. I'm lucky if I reach twenty five."
Sam shook his head. He'd been in so many focus groups trying to help ex military personnel back into normal society, getting over PTSD among other things, and Percy was just like them, but a step further. He was stepping from 'kick-butt demigod hero' to regular, dangerous 'kick-butt hero'.
"How can you talk like that? You know that the next time you don't call in for over a day, we're wrapping you in bubble wrap until you're thirty, right?" He jested. "Besides, you're stuck with us Percy. Till after death, apparently, if this Underworld stuff exists."
Percy got really quiet, looking down at his hands that were clutched together. It looked like he might be praying, but to which god Sam had no clue. "Yeah. The Underworld." He said quietly.
Sam wants to inquire what has Percy so worried, but then someone turns the knob on the door.
Sam expected that it might've been Steve, Tony, Clint, Natasha, or possibly Thor, seeing as they were all best buds. Steve might've been a long shot, but Sam could dream, right? He hated it when they all fought.
But it wasn't them. It wasn't Fury or Vision or James, either. Sam would've been okay with the Hulk, or that 'Hi, I'm Scott' guy instead of who actually stood there.
Wanda looked like a mess. Her hair was a rats nest, her clothing sitting awkwardly on her frame. her makeup was smudged horribly, and although Sam knew she wasn't a girly-girl, she made sure that her makeup was done to her version of perfection. Even her breathing seemed labored, and Sam was instantly worried.
"Wanda, are you alright?" He asked.
She didn't appear to hear him, and when he looked closer he could she the smallest bit of red flickering light around her. Her irises had turned a volcanic red, making her look every bit as much the sorceress she made her enemies believe she was. When her aura flickered around her, she put a hand on the doorframe for support. She looked like she was about to pass out.
Her gaze was focused entirely on Percy, sitting on the corner of his bed. His gaze was locked on her as well.
Sam only watched as she staggered into the room, her feet dragging behind her. Her vision must've been tunneled directly onto Percy because she didn't even glance at Sam.
She was teen feet from Percy, and Sam noticed how his fists were clenched at his side in barely controlled anger. The closer she stepped, the whiter his knuckles turned.
Eight feet.
Five feet.
Three feet.
She was right in front of him, and she wasn't moving. Percy was sitting on his hands like a child, and Sam was wondering what the heck was going on.
She was perfectly still for a moment.
Then she fell to her knees in front of him. "Percy." She said sadly. Her hands reached out carefully and cupped both of his cheeks. "Percy, I'm so, so sorry."
Percy didn't react, didn't even twitch. Sam watched as his friend seemed to go lifeless in less than a second.
Percy didn't move.
Percy didn't react…
…
He reached a hand out tentatively, brushing her hair out of her face carefully. He used his other hand to remove her hands from his face.
Sam watched as Wanda and Percy both sat, face to face with one another. Sam hadn't seen Wanda since breakfast, but she looked so pale…
And Percy's greatest fears had inspired her terror.
Wanda began to tear up as well, and a sob escaped her as she tried to conceal it. Sam slid off the dresser, taking a step towards his distressed friends.
Percy lifted a hand, calling Sam off. He froze, unsure of what to do.
Percy carefully took her head in his hands, mimicking what she was doing to him. Sam could barely hear what was being said, but he caught a few lucky phrases. That's all it appeared to be, repeated phrases between them.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Wanda said. "I didn't know. I didn't know about her."
Percy placed his forehead to hers. "Shhh. Hey, it'll be fine. It'll all be fine."
Honestly, Sam would've left had he not yet delivered the news Fury had sent him to give. Sam wasn't much for this level of intimacy, and frankly he usually made fun of people in relationships. Now, he knew that Percy would be single forever, and Wanda and Vision were basically an item, so this was weird.
Sam debated whether or not to fake cough and end this very emotional display of coming to terms with being in someone else's head, but then someone else knocked on the door.
"Hey, Percy, listen are you- wait, is someone crying?"
The star spangled man with the plan (lacking good timing) opened the door and stepped into what must've been a very intimate moment had Sam or Steve never been there. Percy and Wanda, trapped in an embrace, hugging it out and crying.
Steve stopped in the doorframe, dumbfounded. When he looked to Sam for guidance, he shrugged in bewilderment. 'As if I know what's going on'.
Percy must've noticed, because he quickly stood Wanda up, using his already shaky balance to support her. Then, ever so gently, he had her sit on his bed. "I'll be back later, and we can talk then, okay?" He whispered. She nodded, and Percy in turn nodded to Sam. They both left the room, and Wanda, behind.
Steve seemed to know about as much of the situation as Sam did. None at all.
Percy, still in his PJ's, began to lead them down a separate hallway and towards the elevator. He snapped his fingers impatiently. "Okay, you both want to tell me something. Who wants to go first?" He asked, all business again. Percy had a tendency to slip into a completely serious state when he was nervous.
If there was any time to be serious. It was now. Sam was sure of it.
Steve began first, and Sam was okay with that. Really, the slower Sam's news was delivered, the better.
"I'm an idiot." Steve said. They all got into the elevator, and Percy pressed the luxury floor. Whether for the food or spa, Sam didn't know.
Percy waved his hand up, but Sam caught a glimpse of Percy's raised eyebrow. "Go on, Rogers. Tell me the exact reasonings behind your miraculous conclusion." He said, pretending to be bored.
Steve ignored him. "I'm an idiot. I was so busy focusing on the fact you lied to us that I wasn't thinking seriously about why you lied to us. Percy, I get it now, I think. I'm upset you didn't tell us sooner, yeah, but I understand."
Sam saw Percy's mouth open for him to speak, but Steve cut him off. "And I know that I won't ever fully understand this new part of you, er, old part, I guess. But I want you to know that it doesn't change that you're my friend, and that we're still a family. Or that you can talk to us about it because we want what's best for you."
When Steve stopped for a moment, Percy tried again to interject but Steve still wasn't done. He ran a hand through his hair out of nervousness, a trait they'd all picked up from Percy. "And I get that it's scary talking about it because your old family wasn't always there for you, but-"
Percy put his hand over Steve's mouth, effectively shutting him up. He rolled his eyes, giving Captain America an annoyed look.
Then Percy drew him into a bone crushing hug. Sam could hear Steve wheezing from lack of air. "Knew you'd come around, Steve."
Sam wasn't complaining that he wasn't getting any physical interaction with Percy, so to speak. Still, when he coughed it wasn't on the quiet side. When he had both their attention, he nodded to himself.
The door opened to the luxury floor and Sam figured he better tell Percy fast. They began to walk and speak at the same time. "Okay, so beyond all this amazing 'family bonding', we need to get back to reality beyond the tower. Someone high up is calling you out, Perce."
Percy, although his pace didn't change, frowned. "What happened?"
Sam kept even pace, with Cap right behind them. "The media. There's a committee already being formed as we speak, and Fury wanted me to tell you you're being summoned for an interview with the press."
Percy visibly paled and Sam understood why. Sure, they'd all gone through some sort of public bashing, but not Percy. He preferred low key. He'd never been brought before so much as a reporter, and now he was going in front of the public. "When is the meeting? How long do I have? It's months, right? Please tell me I have months." Percy said.
Sam shook his head. "Next week, Percy. They found a spot just for you." Sam suddenly knew where they were heading in the maze that Stark Towers was. He let a grin settle over his face for a moment. Percy didn't stop until they were where he was leading them to.
On the outside, it was a regular looking vending machine.
Because that's what it was.
Really, it was.
Percy had dubbed it 'special', however, when it was the first 'normal' machine he'd ever found in the building. Tony had them done something quite amazing. Percy always used the machine as a place to think.
Percy took a dollar from his pocket and smoothed it out on the edge. Then, careful not to fold the corners, inserted the bill. He hit 'F1', and the Coke popped out.
A Blue Coke.
Percy popped the tab, then took a strong sip of the stuff. He closed his eyes, and Sam knew he was getting his game face ready. Percy had always had a saying his mother and him had lived by.
If food can be blue, anything can be possible.
"Okay!" Percy said, opening his eyes and clapping his hands. "So, who wants to help me practice for my interview, then?"
Sam smiled, clasping a hand on Percy's shoulder. This was all the touching they needed anyways.
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