"Good morning, Eva. What are you doing?"
"What?" she looked up at him from her position, sat cross-legged in a circle of dirt and pots in the middle of the Avengers' rec room. "I thought it was only ten!"
"It is twenty-seven minutes past two, a.m."
"Crap." She yawned, stood up, and picked up a large ceramic pot and hammer. "I have work in the… in a few hours." She looked down at the mess. "It was gross outside and your administrator's paying me to do something, so I figured I'd make fairy pots."
"I beg your pardon?"
She poked a completed one with her foot. One face of the pot had been smashed out and the shards wedged into the dirt inside it, winding upwards like a staircase. Another, much smaller upturned pot with a hole in it made a shelter with a small "doorway" at the top, which was surrounded by tiny ferns and wildflowers. "I found a tutorial online ages ago, and thought they were cute."
"They're lovely."
"Mmm," she agreed, smashing the side of the last pot. The sudden movement shook her exhausted body, and she staggered. "Whoa. I… I think I should sit down."
"That's probably wise," Vision said. "No, not-"
But it was too late; she had flung herself down onto the floor, into the shards of pot, and impaled the palm of her hand on one of them. "Shit," she said weakly, her eyes watering more at the embarrassment of not listening to him and suffering because of it than the pain itself.
"Hang on." He crossed to the bar and pulled a first aid kit from beneath it before crossing back to her and kneeling down. "Give me your hand and I'll clean it."
"Thanks." She sniffed. "God, I'm such a burden."
"Don't be ridiculous." He pulled out the shard and cleaned the wound with antiseptic before unrolling a bandage. "You're doing wonderfully, I might add."
"You're a very sweet liar," she said, wiping her eyes. "It's weird, it didn't even hurt compared to some of my tattoos."
"Maybe you aren't as inclined towards pain as you once were," he suggested, and she raised an eyebrow.
"Ya think?" she asked, "I thought that was one of my key characteristics."
"I beg to differ," he countered, "you have changed massively since I first met you, and you are still inarguably Eva Kresk."
"How?"
"Well," he said, "you seem a lot happier, even when you're at work."
"That's just a façade," she grinned, "really, I hate everything."
"You also seem to have a lot more patience than you did six months ago."
"Only 'cuz you were a good influence on me, V."
"That doesn't change the fact that you are," he smiled. "And it's been at least two months since you last set fire to anything, I should add. Or drank alcohol."
"That you've seen… and also in general," she admitted. "Why do you have to be right all the time?"
"Specifically and only to annoy you," he said, tying off the bandage. "You shouldn't use your bike with that hand; would you like me to take you home?" Sam was out that night with the Captain on the side mission he always refused to tell her about.
"If it's not a bother."
"I would be happy to spend some more time with you." They both stood up. "Although we should probably clean this up first."
"Eh," she shrugged, "we can leave it to Security Pete."
"Eva," he said severely.
"Fine, fine." She sighed, nibbling on her thumbnail, and Vision gave her a piercing look.
"What else is it, Eva?"
"Hm?" she said. "Oh, nothing." She shrunk under the look he was giving her. "Well, nothing important."
"Surprisingly," he said, "I don't believe you. Come on." He took her hand and led her out of the rec room, and up a flight of stairs she had never noticed before.
"Where are we going?" she asked, a little cautiously.
"The roof," he replied, "I find it's easier to think up there."
He wasn't wrong; up on the highest part of the HQ all she could see were the trees and the glittering skyline of the city in the distance, looking like some weird alien planet in the night. Eva shivered, pulling her arms back into her hoodie, and as they sat down Vision wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Tell me what's wrong," he said, "and I know you well enough to see when you're lying."
She half-smiled. "It's stupid, really. It's just-" she pulled her knees into the hoodie as well so she was like one big warm egg with a head. "It's that Sam – and I love Sam, he's great, bit up himself but really wonderful, it's just that – he gets nightmares. Which is understandable! I mean, if I'd been in half the battles he had, I'd get nightmares too. But I don't…" she tilted sideways and fell against Vision. "He doesn't wake me up when he does, and I kinda wish he did, but I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know how to help, or make it better or anything. And I feel awful, because he's been nothing but good to me, and it's not… it's not fair."
Vision's hand tucked her hair behind her ear. "Some things cannot be helped," he said slowly, "not even by the best of us. But I think – and you have to understand that I speak only for myself here – I believe that just you being there is more than enough. To know that you are loved, despite your failings, is the most important thing. If I were Sam, just seeing I was not alone would be enough."
"Really?" she said, counting the stars and looking for constellations that he had taught her. "You really think that just me is enough?"
"Eva," said Vision sternly, "just you happens to be one of my favourite things I've ever encountered."
She beamed. "Cool," she said, "and… thank you, for being my voice of reason. As ever."
"It was no problem."
"Can we stay up here for a bit longer?" she asked. "You're right, it's nice."
"Of course."
She traced patterns in the sky, like a stellar dot-to-dot. "That one's Orion, right?"
"It is indeed."
"See," she said, "I learn. I listen to people when they tell me stuff. Sometimes."
A/N double update to make up for the OC-heavy previous chapter. In other news, I've been binge-rewatching Being Human (UK) recently. Anybody fall into a pit of TV/movies over the holidays?