It was late evening now. Everyone had long since gone to bed, Pietro to the guest room and the boys long before to their shared room. Even Vision lay in their bed, though sleep he didn't much need. She peered at him as she delicately entered their room. His back was to her, she noted with a pang. He never retired before her, always preferring to wait up so they could settle in together.
The bed dipped slightly beneath her as she settled onto it, shifting herself under the covers. Almost hesitantly she reached for her husband, gentle as she tried to curl closer even though he did not face her. Her heart cracked as he ignored her touch, and even seemed to shy away from it. 'Oh.' she thought, just 'oh'. It was the only word she could think. The despair she felt in that single word was astounding. Vision was truly, truly unhappy with her. Especially so after their conversation cut short when Pietro arrived. The event had utterly stunned her, and yet, she did not think Vision believed her surprise and confusion.
"Vizh?" she tried asking in a broken whisper, her accent deepening in her sorrowful hurt.
"Wanda." he responded, barely turning his head, not even looking at her. "It's late, you should get some rest." followed and at his impassioned response she almost deflated, though she didn't know what else she could lose when she already was feeling so low. The knowledge that, yes, she could and has felt grief far lower and deeper than this minor pain from what was their first real argument since coming to WestView. Her mind shrouded that thought the second it came to her and she didn't fight as she almost let slip through her fingers on her own, not wanting the true knowledge to hit her. She was already hit hard enough as it was when the twins had been born. She didn't think that image would ever leave her mind and she was unsure of where such a vivid and gruesome picture would have even come from.
She didn't want to keep fighting, she was too tired, too weary for it. Acquiescing, she tried not to sigh. "We'll finish our… discussion… tomorrow then." She told him as she tried to settle down into the bed, in voice so quiet and almost a whisper. As she closed her eyes she thought she saw Vision twist and blink at her in surprise as he looked at her.
"Wanda?" he started and she shushed him back, "You said it yourself Vizh…" she paused, "We need to rest. We'll both be more clear headed and level minded in the morning." Before she could hear him say any more she willed herself to drift off to sleep.
As much as she was escaping into necessary sleep, the restful escape she was seeking was not what was in store for her that night. Her dreams plagued her with vivid and nightmarish imagery and she finally awoke in the early morning with a frightened scream. Her heart was beating erratically out of her chest and she tried not to heave, though there was nothing in her stomach to lose.
Vision was immediately up and attentive to her. "Wanda? Darling what is it?" he gingerly cradled her face with one of his hands, brushing her hair out of her face as his other hand took one of her much smaller ones to hold in solid comfort. "I can feel your fear, whatever you saw had you utterly terrified." he coaxed, "Talk to me, please."
"Nightmares." she managed simply, "Awful nightmares."
"Tell me?" he tried again and she took a big gulp of air, still trying to calm down. She wanted nothing more than to expel it from her mind, allow it to slip away, gone forever if she had her way.
"Show me." he changed tactics and guided her small hand up to his forehead. The request, the motions, it froze her, icy feelings of nausea and panic restricted her. "Wanda, calm down. Show me what has you so upset." he encouraged. He knew something in the motion had set off her panic, so instead of touching her fingertips to the stone in his forehead he gently pressed his forehead to hers. "Show me." he repeated again, using the power of the stone to try and softly coax his wife.
Show me. Show me. Show me. The words echoed in her mind and she felt a bridged connection between their minds, one that sparked familiarity and yet she did not recognize this. Somewhere at the back of her mind tickled with the memory of it, and she couldn't fight his simple request. Not fighting anymore, the nightmares that plagued her rushed like a tidal wave into Vision and if he had a heart it would have constricted at the things he saw. As it was his own emotions felt overpowering and debilitating, but worst of all the feelings was his Wanda's despair, grief, anguish. They overwhelmed her just as they did him.
He saw a Pietro that wasn't the Pietro that had come to their door. He saw a silver robotic man, Ultron something in his brain whispered. He saw himself and Wanda amongst a group of others, but his mind only saw Wanda clearly. She was so young here, so broken, not exactly unlike the woman in his arms now. He saw a collar around her neck with a red light on it, her arms bound and restrained and a dead look in her eyes. The small circular scar on her neck that it caused.. He saw them hiding together ripped away to see, to hear, him beg her to destroy the stone in his head. "I feel only you. I love you." He told her, only to be put back together by Thanos moments after he was shattered. He saw it through her eyes. The gaping hole in his head, the graying of his skin, the dead clouds of his eyes. The pain she felt in each moment seemed to surpass the last and it all mounted in his head and in his chest.
"Wanda." His voice mournful for all that she went through as he said her name.
The second they opened their eyes they felt it slipping away, their minds starting to cloud. He knew that this was not his Wanda's doing this time, this was not what her magic felt like upon his mind. Weary tiredness was forced upon his brain and too closed his eyes once more, this time holding his wife tightly in his arms.
