Chapter 3
Vision didn't dare take his eyes off Wanda since the moment he finally got her back.
He didn't in the car, and certainly not during the board meeting.
How could he? Ever since he got her back, all he saw were those sunken eyes and legs that trembled every time she tried to stand. All it would take was one strong breeze, and Wanda would collapse like a house of cards.
What's worse is she refused to admit that something was wrong.
She was much more timid and lethargic than before. If the Wanda he knew three weeks ago were in that meeting with Gyrich, she would fire back just as many left-handed insults as he did to her. Yet each time he spat at her, she just lowered her gaze to her knees.
Her spit-fire nature was gone. All she did was curl up on the chair, with her head lolled against her shoulder and her eyes drooping from exhaustion. He suggested that she sleep, but of course, she didn't care to listen. She'd give him that look, the look that told him not to tell her what to do. She gave him the same look when she sent him plummeting through four stories of the compound and halfway through the Earth's crust.
Every time she denied his help, Vision burned with frustration. Even now, as they walked back to her room, he was careful to make Wanda feel she was doing most of the work herself.
She shuffled through the halls, blissfully unaware that Vision was the one holding her together. He gently grasped her shoulders, holding her up and not letting her go until they finally made it to the steel door painted in red, cursive letters, 'Wanda.'
"Would you like me to knock?" Vision asked, his knuckles hovering over the steel.
A wisp of a smile crossed Wanda's lips, and she rolled her eyes. Her thin hand shakily reached for the doorknob, and she shoved the door open before Vision could stop her.
Wanda sucked in a breath as she nearly toppled out of Vision's grasp. He seized her arm and pulled her back on her feet.
"Please don't do that, Wanda," he said sternly, "at least not until the muscles in your legs have recovered from atrophy."
Wanda didn't look at him, but her jaw tightened as she started for her room.
What a stubborn girl.
Wanda had taken a lot of pride in her room. When she was deciding how to decorate it, she and Agent Romanoff would lock themselves inside for hours, debating things that would best emulate Wanda's personality.
Paintings dotted the walls, most of which Wanda had made herself, along with a wooden Star of David. There were candles everywhere. No doubt meant to fill the room with a comforting aroma —Vision wouldn't know since he lacked an olfactory system.
Vision sat Wanda down on her dark red bedding and, to avoid any disastrous trip to the dresser, set some night clothes beside her to change into.
He courteously turned his back and mulled over the corkboard hung above Wanda's desk while she changed. It was coated with pictures. Most of them consisted of Wanda with Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff. Some were pictures of Vision, though his stoic nature contrasted with Agent Romanoff's grin or the gleefully exasperated expression that crossed Captain Rogers's face.
Wanda often complained that Vision didn't smile as much as she would have liked. He hoped to fix it for her, but Vision didn't find many things to be happy about after her imprisonment.
In the very center of the board was a tattered and stained picture of Wanda with a familiar blonde-haired boy. In the year that Vision had known Wanda, Pietro was a taboo subject. Everyone knew to keep silent about him unless Wanda was the one who initiated.
Vision had only met Wanda's twin brother once, and in that one meeting, he found Pietro to be loud and arrogant, but there was also an air of protective instinct about him. It was the same feeling a mother bear would feel over her endangered cubs.
Judging from how Wanda talked about him on the rare occasion, it seemed that a mother bear was precisely the role Pietro had between the two.
Wanda instantly fell asleep.
Vision could have predicted this after Wanda had experienced such a trying day. He sat in a chair by her nightstand, vigilantly standing guard against her subconscious.
This was commonplace between the two after challenging missions.
It all stemmed from Sokovia. After her arrival at the compound, Wanda had awoken in a distressed state.
Vision heard her screaming from his room and comforted her that night. He didn't say much to her, but as soon as she saw him, she flung her arms around him and cried until she fell asleep. The more this happened, the sooner Vision just decided it was best to stay around her room should she need him.
Of course, Wanda protested, claiming that she wasn't a baby and could sleep independently, but Vision was always just outside her room should she need him.
Light from the hall spilled into the room as the door cracked open. Leaning against the threshold was Lieutenant Sam Wilson with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.
"Are you on Girlfriend Duty then?" he mused.
Vision found this question rather confusing and unnecessary.
"Are you referring to my being in Ms. Maximoff's quarters while she's asleep?" he asked, "Ms. Maximoff has a history of nightly and subconscious panic attacks, so I've elected myself to help her cope should she experience one tonight."
Sam's shoulders sagged, and an exasperated expression grew on his face. "That's not what I meant, Vision."
"Yes, of course," Vision went on, "then perhaps you were alluding to my close proximity to Ms. Maximoff by referring to her as my girlfriend. What you might define as a female companion with whom one shares a romantic relationship. In that case, I believe the proper response is to confirm that Ms. Maximoff is of the female sex, and we have developed a companionate bond with one another. However, she and I are not at all partaking in a romantic relationship."
Sam just stared at the android.
"In simpler terms," Vision tried again, "yes, she is a girl, and yes, she is my friend. However, she is not my girlfriend."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man. Just call us if something goes wrong," he said before softly shutting the door behind him.
Vision turned back to Wanda, whose face was buried into her pillow. He couldn't help but smile at how she held it close.
Yes, she was his friend. She was the only friend that he's ever known and the most important person in his life.
When she was taken, it was like a part of him was taken too. Now that she's back, that empty part still hasn't left. It was like a pit in his chest.
As the hours ticked away, Vision was pleased that the night proved to be quiet and uneventful. He leaned back in his chair and began absent-mindedly reading.
Frankly, Vision never cared for the actual contents of the books he read. He only found the act of reading to be cathartic, something to keep his mind occupied for long periods of time. Wanda would often ask about what he was reading, and all he could tell her is that he did not particularly care what it was about. This response would always annoy her, causing her to punch his shoulder and tell him he didn't make any sense.
He almost finished his book when a small groan caught his attention.
Vision peeked over the top of his book to see the moonlight shining directly in Wanda's face. Fearing that the glare would wake her, he got up to close the red drapes.
As they hissed closed, Wanda gasped.
Vision whirled around to see Wanda's whole body violently shivered and then tensed.
"Wanda?" Vision whispered.
Wanda didn't answer as she erupted into spastic thrashing. Her eyes were half open and seeped a blaring red light.
Vision rushed to her side, carelessly knocking over the chair behind him. He grabbed Wanda by the shoulders and desperately tried to rouse her.
"Wanda!"
Wanda didn't answer as red magic burst out of her fingertips. It shot out in spurts, shattering the ceramic lamp on her nightstand. Vision grabbed Wanda's misfiring hand and held it tightly in his.
"Wanda! Wake up!" he tried again.
Another shot fired from Wanda, knocking over her guitar. Then another shredded the curtains, flooding the room with the pale moonlight.
Vision's jaw tightened and, without thinking, he lunged for Wanda's head. He grabbed her temples and shut his eyes tightly.
Wanda! Wake up! Vision screamed in her mind.
A blinding blast of red energy hurled him against Wanda's dresser.
Vision let out a grunt as Wanda gasped like she had never tasted air before and toppled out of bed.
He nearly vaulted over her bed and knelt beside her, carefully sitting her up.
Wanda's head nestled into Vision's neck and he whispered calming words to her, patiently waiting for the shock to subside.
Her eyes still burned with power as tears gushed down her face. Her hand pressed into her chest as she labored for air.
He held her close, hugging her tightly to his chest and brushing her auburn hair out of her face. Something inside of Vision told him that if he dared let go, she would fade away forever.
Thoughts raced through Vision's head, trying to make sense of what just happened.
At this point, nightmares have become commonplace for Wanda, but never had her powers acted so erratically before.
He sat with Wanda on the floor of her bedroom, leaning against the wall, until she slipped back into an exhausted sleep.
Hopefully, this anomaly was a one-time occurrence, but he should probably ask Mr. Stark just in case.
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