It had been a long day for Eva. She'd gone straight from a six-hour shift at the coffee shop all morning to a meeting with the Brooklyn Borough Council about a new feature for Peggy Carter that would be built in Prospect Park. When that had finished Eva was so hungry she couldn't wait to cook, so she'd grabbed a box of fried chicken from a street vendor (Alvie used to cook it when she came around, and Eva had grudgingly admitted that, when done the Cajun style, it was almost as good as Texas BBQ) and scoffed it on her way to a Tinder date in a badly-lit bar back in Manhattan. She spent ten minutes in the bathroom washing the grease from her fingers and reapplying a lipstick that she didn't really like much but made her lips look less thin only to get a message from the date that they had bailed at the last moment. Since she'd already got a drink, Eva decided to make a night of being a wallflower and wasted the evening trying, and failing, to catch other patrons' eyes in the hope she might be able to pull after all. She didn't. She also had no money for a cab since her wage packet didn't come through until next week, and the metro was closed. She ended up running home through the rain. By the time she got back to her apartment block, it was gone midnight and the elevator wasn't working.
Of course it's not, Eva thought, preparing herself for the hundreds of stairs that awaited her.
Fifteen minutes of huffing, puffing, and dripping rainwater onto the parquet floor later, she made it to her apartment and dropped her keys as her numb fingers fumbled for the right one. Pushing her rats-tail-y hair back from her face, she wiggled it around in the lock until it stopped sticking, slammed her shoulder into the wood and fell forwards into her moonlit sitting room. Getting back to her feet, she felt for the light switch on the wall behind her, flicked it up – and screamed.
There was a man stood in her home.
Eva reacted on instinct. She grabbed the nearest thing to her – a Japanese peace lily – and flung it with a scream. The man ducked but needn't have bothered, as it hit the wall behind him a good three feet to the left of where she had been aiming. "Eva!" he exclaimed, as she hefted a fig tree by its pot. "It's me!"
She hesitated. The man, on first glance, was unrecognisable. He was tall, with short reddish hair and an elegant face. But his voice sounded unnervingly familiar, as though it didn't belong to the body. She looked closer, and saw that he was wearing a cashmere jumper. That, combined with the fact that Rachel Carson wasn't trying to attack him, meant that gears started turning in her head.
"… Vision?" she said, putting the tree back down.
"Yes," he said, relief flooding his face. His normal, human, not-maroon face.
"But you're… ginger." She walked towards him, and saw that there was a Stark Industries duffel bag sat at his feet. "What's going on?"
Vision pursed his lips. "I'll make a cup of tea," he said.
Eva watched him as he bustled around her kitchen with the ease of someone in a familiar place. He was the exact same height and shape, had the exact same fluidity of movement and smooth English voice as her best friend, but he looked like a suburban dad. He looked like he should be driving a Volvo. He looked like someone she would tell her Mom to message on a dating website.
That's something I'll never be able to un-think, she mused grimly, as Vision came over with a steaming mug of camomile.
"I received a letter," he said, sitting down next to her on the floor like they always did. "From Wanda."
"Is she alright?"
"Fine. Wonderful, actually," he said, and a smile flitted across his face. "She's in Europe. She wants me to join her. I have to, Eva. I can't quite explain why, but I know that I have to be with her."
"Very human of you."
"Thank you." He blew on his own tea (he always made himself a cup when he was at hers, even if he didn't drink it) so that the vapour twisted away from them both. "I'm here to –"
"Say goodbye? I should damn well hope so."
"No." He looked at her with eyes that, although lacking their layers of camera-like lenses, were just as blue as they had always been. "I came to ask you to come with me."
Eva choked on her tea. "Vision," she spluttered, "you…"
"You are my best friend, Eva. The only person in this world I have ever been completely sure I can trust. I wouldn't dream of abandoning you."
Some great, inescapable feeling bubbled up in Eva's chest, hotter than Cajun-fried chicken, that made her eyes start to water. She swallowed it back down before it could get in the way of her words. "That's… oh, sweetheart. I can't."
He looked at her, his face blank. "Why not?" he asked. She almost wanted to laugh at his naivety. He'd never even assumed that her answer would be no.
"Because – because I'd have to give Mr G two months' notice. Because sorting out a visa would be a nightmare, and I'd have to break the contract for my lease on this place, and I'm still legally responsible for Alvie's house upstate. Because I've got the cat, and the plants, and… because people don't run halfway across the world on a whim in real life," she finished. "Only super people do crap like that. Vision, you've given me stability I never, ever thought I could have and I am so, so grateful for that. But it's because of that stability I can't just up and run to third-wheel you and Scarlet Witch. To be honest, I… don't want you to go. It's selfish, but it's true. I don't want you to leave me. But I care too much about you to force you to stay when your heart's already with her."
"You don't have to force me to do anything," said Vision. "If you want me to, I'll –"
"Don't you dare," she warned him. "Don't you freaking dare. I meant what I said, Vision. This is the most human you've ever been, and I don't just mean your appearance. You need to go. You told me yourself you need to."
She could see the distress in his face easier than ever now that it was somewhat similar to her own. "This… isn't fair," he muttered. "It shouldn't be like this. None of this should have happened."
"That's life," Eva said. "It is what it is. Who are we puny mortals to try and change it?"
He laughed weakly. "I will try and repair the rift between the Avengers," he said. "I have done all I can with Tony – now I shall try with those who resisted the Accords. We are strongest together, all of us. And then we can come home and everything will be fine."
"Sure," said Eva, "that's a possibility. You call me twice a week, okay? And text every day. I want to visit, too."
"Of course. Please keep an eye on the compound while I'm away. Let me know if Mr Stark does anything… Stark-ish."
"Give me all the worst jobs, why don't you? You're worse than Mr G." He laughed again. "Have you packed everything you need? Jumpers, and, and… books. Do you want to take a plant with you?"
"I'd be delighted."
She picked up a tiny succulent from the coffee table, walked over to his bag and placed it snugly between two cardigans. "When do you go?" she asked. "Have you booked a plane?"
"I don't really need to."
She smacked her forehead with her palm. "Of course you don't. You should probably let Wanda know what time you're leaving. Have you told Stark? Do you need to hand in your notice or something? Does this mean they'll strike your name off the Accords?"
"Eva –"
"If you want me to sort anything out after you've gone, I don't mind. I'll drive up to the compound and make sure they don't trash any stuff you left behind," she babbled. "Have you got enough socks? I never pack enough socks when I go away. There's nothing worse than putting on a dirty pair of socks in the morning –"
She was cut off by Vision hugging her, tight enough that the outside world disappeared completely. "Hush," he murmured.
The burning feeling rose up again, and this time she was unable to stop it. "I'll miss you," she whispered, as tears caught on her eyelashes.
"I'll be back before you know it." With her eyes closed, he felt exactly the same as he always did: steady, solid and cool. "Everything will be fine, Eva. I promise."
"Don't do anything stupid."
"I'll try my best."
She broke away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. He handed her a handkerchief that she had bought him for his second birthday and she took it gratefully. "Text me when you get to… wherever it is that you're going."
"Of course."
"Love you."
"I love you, too." He kissed her forehead, like he always did. "Look after yourself, please. Be as kind to yourself as I have always wished you to be. You deserve it, Eva. More than anyone else I know."
A/N for those of you who aren't aware - a comic came out as a prelude to Infinity War, wherein Scarlet Witch runs away to Europe with Vision after the events of Civil War. Obviously this led to me dementedly screaming to my poor mate about how I JUST WANTED TO BE CANON COMPLIANT WHY DID THEY HAVE TO SCREW ME OVER LIKE THIS NOW VISION HAS TO LEAVE EVA BEHIND THE PURPLE BASTARD AAARGH. Once I calmed down, I wrote this. Then the Super Bowl teaser came out and I IMMEDIATELY lost my mind again. I don't think I shall be calm ever again. If I have high blood pressure it's Kevin Feige's fault.