Chapter 31: Potential

The same to me are somber days and gay.
Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright,
Because my dearest love is gone away
Within my heart is melancholy night.
My heart beats low in loneliness, despite
That riotous Summer holds the earth in sway.
In cerements my spirit is bedight;
The same to me are somber days and gay.
Though breezes in the rippling grasses play,
And waves dash high and far in glorious might,
I thrill no longer to the sparkling day,
Though joyous dawns the rosy morn, and bright.
Ungraceful seems to me the swallow's flight;
As well might Heaven's blue be sullen gray;
My soul discerns no beauty in their sight
Because my dearest love is gone away.
Let roses fling afar their crimson spray,
And virgin daisies splash the fields with white,
Let bloom the poppy hotly as it may,
Within my heart is melancholy night.
And this, oh love, my pitiable plight
Whenever from my circling arms you stray;
This little world of mine has lost its light...
I hope to God, my dear, that you can say
The same to me.

~Dorothy Parker, "Rondeau Redoublé (and Scarcely Worth the Trouble at That)"

He found himself walking past her door again, and once again his steps slowed. He wasn't tempted to knock, knowing Wanda was still asleep. She needed her sleep. She'd been so exhausted when they got back to the Sanctum a few hours ago (late morning in Wakanda, 3 a.m. in New York) that she'd gone straight to her room. She hadn't invited him to her bed, which he understood. She hadn't gotten much sleep in bed with him last night.

So he slowed as he passed her door, but didn't knock, and he wouldn't enter her room without an invitation. He just wanted to be near her, while he could.

Doctor Strange had insisted they come here to rest and recuperate for a few days before heading to Antarctica to face the Source, to give Wanda time to fully recover her power, and to give the sorcerers time to gather reinforcements. Vision hoped it would give him time to think of some argument to convince Wanda not to leave him behind.

Vision had spent some time in his room, had gone through a rest cycle, then tried to read a book, but had given up when he couldn't concentrate. He'd decided to wander the building, distracting himself with the strange duality he felt in this place where he had been and hadn't been. He supposed this was what humans called déjà-vu.

Unexpectedly, Doctor Strange appeared in front of him. "Vision, just the man I wanted to see. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"Of course."

"Great. Come with me. You'll want to put on your human face."

Vision frowned, wondering who he needed to disguise himself for, but took the advice and phased into his inconspicuous human mode. "Where are we going?"

"Kamar-Taj." He opened a portal. "After you."

Through the portal, Vision found himself in some kind of old fortress or temple complex.

They had arrived in a courtyard where 34 people were apparently practicing sorcery, creating ropy, glowing shapes between their hands, under the direction of a bespectacled man with one hand. He and Strange nodded to each other as they passed by.

"This is some sort of school for sorcery?" Vision asked.

"Yes. For most people, it takes years of study to perform even the simplest spells. It took me several months, and I'm a genius with an eidetic memory, and I was desperate to learn when I came here."

"How long ago was that?"

"Depends on if you count by calendar years or years of my life. I was nonexistent for five of those years, but on the other hand I was stuck in a time loop for the equivalent of decades," he said. "There used to be more sorcerers. Shortly before I joined the order, there was a sorcerer named Kaecilius. He read some of the more...esoteric texts, and eventually decided to open the Earth to a demon named Dormammu, which offered immortality by absorbing all life, letting you live forever but without any experience, any passage of time, losing everything that makes life worth living. Kaecilius recruited several followers, basically causing a civil war within the ranks of the sorcerers, leading to the death of the previous Sorcerer Supreme. After that, a disillusioned sorcerer named Mordo traveled the world tracking down other sorcerers and taking away their ability to access mystic energy, until we stopped him. And then there was the battle against Thanos and his forces. We lost some sorcerers there too. It's been a rough decade."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I have to say, I'm still not used to your new accent."

"Is this preferable?" Vision asked in Ultron's voice.

Strange thought it over. "I think I actually prefer the British accent, but being able to switch back and forth is a nice trick. How are you adjusting, psychologically? What is it like having two sets of memories in your head?"

Vision switched back to his preferred voice. "I'm getting used to it. I have always been an amalgam of different sources: I was born with the memories of every previous Ultron, his base consciousness, the memories and protocols of Tony Stark's A.I. JARVIS, and what I believe can best be explained as a subconscious provided by the Mind Stone. Now my mind is a confluence of two different lifetimes. The two lives were different enough that for the most part I can quickly tell if a memory comes from the experience of the Vision of this Earth or from Red Ultron."

"'For the most part'?"

"There are some memories that I'm honestly not sure who they belong to. I remember reading the complete works of Tobias Smollett, for example, but I don't know which lifetime I read them in."

"And I assume that you have an exceptionally good memory to begin with."

He nodded. "I've been told that. Of course, I have no frame of reference to compare it to. I do tend to retain memories in photographic detail."

"Interesting." Strange led them inside, to a dimly lit hall. He sat on the floor behind a low table. "This is where I first met the Ancient One. She gave me some tea, and then she knocked my soul out of my body. At that point, I didn't believe there was such a thing as a soul. I never would have believed magic was real. I was a neurosurgeon, a man of science. And I still am, really. More now than I was then, in a way. Believing you have all the answers is the end of honest inquiry, which is the foundation of science. The Ancient One told me once that not everything makes sense, but I don't fully agree with that. There are things beyond our scientific understanding, but nothing is beyond science. I believe that if we could see the whole picture, it would all make sense. But we can't see the whole picture, and we have to accept some things we can't see. At least, if we want to be able to work with them."

Vision sat on the floor across the table from Strange, mirroring his posture. "In my world, the Ultrons encountered one hundred seventy sorcerers. It took an average of fifty-four Ultrons to kill one sorcerer. The Ultrons autopsied some of them trying to figure out where their power came from, but found nothing."

"The power we use doesn't come from within us, it comes through us. There's a dimension, a brane if you prefer a more technical term from string theory, that is made of pure mystic energy. Here we learn to open a valve inside ourselves to let that energy flow through." He demonstrated, creating a disk of golden light between his hands. "We learn to channel that energy, to shape it, to alter it. It's kind of analogous to how we use our vocal cords, tongue, and lips to shape air coming out of our lungs into words."

"How does it feel to have that much power flow through you?"

"Your whole body is powered by energy from the Mind Stone. You can use that power to alter the density of your vibranium-infused body. It probably feels about like that." Strange shook his hands, and the glowing shape he'd conjured disappeared. "I mentioned earlier I spent decades in a time loop. I created that time loop to keep Dormammu from invading and absorbing Earth. I did it with an artifact protected by our order called the Eye of Agamotto. Only later did I learn that was an Infinity Stone, the Time Stone. I harnessed the Time Stone to see alternate futures to learn how to defeat Thanos. I saw how Thanos got the Mind Stone. I saw what you and Wanda did to try to stop it. I saw the one, unlikely path that led to Thanos being defeated and the Snap being undone. The Time Stone's power was unfathomable. It took me a while to figure out the Time Stone was not merely an object of power, it was a key, an access point, to an entire layer of the multiverse, the time dimension of the spacetime continuum. When Thanos destroyed the Time Stone, he didn't destroy that layer of the universe, just the key to it. I believe that when HYDRA experimented on Wanda with the Mind Stone, it connected her directly to another layer of the multiverse."

Vision's fingers drifted to his forehead. "I feel...an echo in the Mind Stone when she uses her power. That's why. She's connected to me. If...if the Mind Stone that existed in this universe and my Mind Stone are access points to the same layer of the multiverse, as you hypothesize."

"Whatever she's tapping into—we might call it the Mindverse—she seems to have a greater connection to it than you do, even though you're physically bonded to the Mind Stone. It powers you, but it transformed her."

Vision wished Wanda could be there for this fascinating discussion. But there were questions he had that he wouldn't necessary ask with her present.

"What would have happened," he inquired hesitantly, "if Wanda had fought Thanos, instead of destroying the Mind Stone? Would she have won?"

"I have no idea," Strange answered. "The only futures I looked at were the ones I could affect, which limited me to my own actions and the actions of the people with me. I saw there was no possible way for me to get to Earth in time, or send a message in time to warn you, so there wasn't a way I could have influenced your decisions. I know Wanda believes she could have destroyed Thanos, and maybe she could have, but it doesn't help anyone for her to beat herself up over that decision now." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "You understand how deeply scarred that event has left her, I'm sure. She said she hadn't expected to live with the consequences. I don't think she would have gone through with it if she knew she would survive."

Vision recalled his own thoughts in the moments leading up to his death: Thanos advancing toward them, time running out. He knew he must die. He hoped Wanda would survive, but between the destruction of the Mind Stone and the threat Thanos posed, he hadn't wanted to consider her chances. "Our survival against Thanos was unlikely," he said neutrally.

"Is that how you were able to go through with the sacrifice? You thought she would die right after you, and wouldn't have to live with what you told her to do?"

He answered thoughtfully. "We did what we believed we had to do to save the universe. The consequences didn't matter."

"Well, she did survive, and the consequences matter now."

It seemed an opportune moment to ask Strange about something that had crossed his mind during his early morning perambulation. "Looking back on your behavior since you brought me onto this mission, and some comments Wong made, I've formed the...suspicion...that you have been trying to nudge me and Wanda together. When you berated her for saving the ship, and then assigned me to care for her...it seems in retrospect like a situation calculated to strengthen our relationship. Did you hope it would make me more amenable to go through with the engram transference if I had feelings for her?"

"Yes," Strange admitted. "But even if the engram transference proved impossible...I could see how much Wanda needed you. When Wong and I found her, she was holed up in an old house in Edinburgh, spending her time looking into other Earths. When I asked her to find a version of Vision who would be willing to risk his life to save an Earth that wasn't her own, she immediately thought of you. Even knowing the things you've done, she was convinced we could trust you. She knew you. She must have been watching you for a while."

Learning the state Wanda had been driven to left Vision stunned. And unexpectedly angry. "You had no right to tell me this. As both a doctor and practically her employer, you should treat her psychological health as confidential information."

"You deserve to know."

"She deserves to decide when to tell me herself, in her own time and her own way."

"You're right. I apologize. The point I was trying to make is that I think she might have seen Red Ultron as a kindred spirit: you were both pushed by circumstances into doing things that haunt you. She's been doing better since joining us, and much better since you joined us, but her recovery is going to take time, and she can't do it on her own. I thought she and Red Ultron could help each other."

It was a strange thought. The person he wanted to be was Vision, the Avenger, the hero, but it might be the other life he'd lived, the villain seeking redemption, who would be better able to help Wanda now.

They could help each other, as Strange said. He thought of how the trust, respect, and camaraderie Wanda had granted him gave him a sense of contentment and a belief in his right to exist that he thought he'd never feel.

"I would do anything for her," he said, a conviction borne by both lifetimes of memories he carried.

Strange nodded. "She told me over breakfast this morning, in Wakanda, that you're not coming with us to Antarctica. She actually threatened not to come if I brought you. I don't know if she'd really put the world at risk to keep you out of harm's way, but after what she's been through I can't say I blame her."

"She does have a point," Vision grudgingly admitted. "My abilities have proven ineffective against these beings. I would be more a liability than benefit in a battle against the Source."

Strange looked at him thoughtfully, steepling his fingers in front of his face in a way that made him look like the stereotype of a psychoanalyst. "How do you feel about that?"

Vision answered honestly, partly because he saw no reason not to, and partly because it was weighing so heavily on his mind he felt compelled to give voice to it. "How would you feel if the person you loved most were to endure something mortally dangerous, and you were not only helpless to assist them, you couldn't even be by their side through it? To stay behind, waiting, and the only way you would know that they're not coming back is that they don't come back, every moment that passes making that fear increase. How will I endure it?"

"Good question," Strange said, perhaps a bit dismissively. "I've never been in that position. But I've kind of been on the other side. You know how I told you I was desperate when I found my way here?"

"Yes."

He pushed back his sleeve, took off a wristwatch, looked at it for a moment, and reverently handed it to Vision. "This was the only worldly possession I had left."

It was clearly a quality watch, though marred with a crack in the glass face. Vision examined it, trying to figure out why Strange hadn't sold it, and why he thought it was pertinent to the conversation. He turned it over and noticed the inscription on the back.

Time will tell how much I love you.

"Who is Christine?"

"Doctor Christine Palmer," he answered, taking the watch back. "She's a brilliant surgeon. We used to work together. And we used to date, in an on-again off-again way. She loved me. I loved her too, though at the time I was too self-obsessed to appreciate her, which is when the 'off-again' stages came in. Then I crashed my car." He held out his hands.

Vision had noticed the scars on the back of Strange's hands, but hadn't felt their relationship was such that it permitted him to ask about them.

"Severe nerve damage to both hands. I couldn't perform surgery anymore. I felt like I lost everything that made my life worth anything. I could have gone into teaching, or research, or retired comfortably, but if I wasn't the world's best neurosurgeon, who was I? I had seven surgeries trying to restore the use of my hands, sold off my possessions, went deeply in debt. Christine tried to be there for me, but I made it impossible for her. My physical therapist told me about a man who seemingly made a miraculous recovery from a hopeless spinal injury. I tracked him down, and he told me about this place. So I used my last penny to come here. By that point I was bankrupt and homeless. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found Kamar-Taj, or if the Ancient One had refused to take me in. Or maybe I do know what I would have done; I just don't want to accept it." He put the wristwatch back on.

Vision didn't know what to say. He didn't want to criticize Strange—after all, if he hadn't become a sorcerer he would not have been there to save the world from Dormammu, or the universe from Thanos—but in his opinion the right thing to do when faced with Strange's circumstances would have been to accept his altered life, to become an instructor at a medical school to pass his knowledge on to the next generation of neurosurgeons, go into research to develop new life-saving procedures, perhaps marry the woman he seemed to love so much. Instead, he'd torn his life apart trying to get back what he'd lost, and had just happened to find something better.

"You were fortunate," was what he finally decided to say.

Strange snorted a laugh. "Yes, I was. I was one lucky idiot genius." He grew more somber. "Christine and I reconnected, did a long-distance kind of thing that worked for both of us with how busy we were. Then I was blipped. She wasn't. She adopted three kids orphaned by the snap, got married to an architect whose wife was blipped. When the snap was reversed, she and her husband decided to stay together. They share custody of their kids with their biological parents."

"I'm sure Thanos's actions created many such complicated situations."

"Oh yeah. The courts are still working everything out. It's a mess."

"I'm sorry that it didn't work out between you and Doctor Palmer," he said.

"I'm grateful for the time we had together, and I'm happy for her," Strange said. "Want to know what's funny?"

Vision wasn't sure what about this topic could possibly be funny, but he nodded for him to continue.

"When Christine and I would fight, she'd often call me a robot. She meant it as an insult, but having met you, I think it was unfair to robots. She meant to imply I was emotionless, soulless. But you do feel emotions, don't you."

Before gaining Vision's memories, he'd questioned whether the things he felt could truly be called emotions, but he could no longer doubt it. "One of my creators, Doctor Cho, never called me a robot," Vision said. "She refered to me as a synthezoid, a synthetic human. I didn't really appreciate the distinction, until I met Wanda."

"Before it even crossed my mind to find you and attempt the memory transference, seeing how much Wanda loved you made me wonder about how human you had been. And it's obvious how much you feel for her. So if you really want some way to help her against the Source, I have an idea we could try."

He frowned. "What is your idea?"

"Your abilities are ineffective against the mind lice. Only Wanda can destroy them, but the sorcerers can bind them, redirect them. We're organizing a support team. I've decided no more than twenty percent of the sorcerers in our order should join the fight. Some need to stay behind as a second line of defense in case it doesn't work. I estimate it will take about a week and a half to plan our attack. That gives you some time, though not much."

"Some time to what?"

Strange opened a small portal and pulled out a stack of old leather-bound books, which he dropped on the table in front of Vision.

"What are these?" he asked, experiencing the rather novel sensation of being completely confused.

"Your homework. You'll need this, too." Strange handed him some kind on antique ring-like object. "It's called a sling ring. It amplifies our connection to the mystic brane, making it easier to access its power."

Vision frowned. He replayed Strange's words in his memory a few times, then their whole conversation. Then it clicked. Strange had been guiding him to this, laying the basis for this proposal.

But it made so little sense Vision couldn't help but feel he was still misunderstanding.

"You want me to...study the mystic arts?"

"If you want to. You would have to learn fast. You'd have to break my record by months in time to help us in Antarctica."

"But...is it even possible? For a...a robot to become a sorcerer?"

"I don't know. But there is literally just one way to find out."

"But...are you sure? If this works, if I have the powers of sorcery as well as the Mind Stone, aren't you afraid I could become unstoppable? You know the things I've done."

Strange shrugged. "Your remorse for the harm you've caused is exactly what makes me think I can trust you with this kind of power. Besides, I'm only going to worry about one potential apocalypse at a time. Are you willing to give it a try?"

"Of course," Vision answered with an eagerness in his voice that surprised himself. If he could learn enough sorcery to fight the mind lice in a week and a half, he could help protect Wanda.

"Great! There are plenty of quiet rooms here for you to study in. When you feel ready, you can join the lessons in the courtyard. Come on; I'll introduce you."

It was late afternoon in New York when Vision got back, going through a permanent portal Doctor Strange showed him. He'd become so engrossed in his studies that he hadn't considered how long he'd been gone.

He spotted Wanda in the hallway. She looked pale and distraught.

"Wanda..." He glided to her.

"Vizh. Hi." Her voice was tired and quiet.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Tell me."

"Nothing's the matter," she said. "It's just...I haven't seen you all day, and I was starting to think maybe...maybe after our argument last night, maybe you decided to leave."

At the fear and insecurity veiled behind that sentiment, his heart broke for her.

"I would never do that to you," he vowed.

"I know." Her voice broke. "I just...I..."

He pulled her to him. She curled against him, pressing her face to his chest.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed.

"Shh. It's alright." He stroked her back.

"I know you're upset by my decision, but I can't risk losing you. I'd rather die than watch you die again."

"Neither of those things is going to happen." He kissed the top of her head.

"I don't mean to be like this."

"It's alright."

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Where have you been all day?" she asked in an attempt at changing the subject.

He hesitated a split second. "Studying the sorcerers' books." He wouldn't lie to her, but if she knew what he was attempting she would try to stop him. "I might be able to find some way to help the sorcerers more effectively fight the mind lice." Technically true, convincingly innocuous. "I have to do something to try to be useful, Wanda."

"I know." She drew away from him, but stayed close. She was calmer, comforted by his presence. He took her face in his hands, brushing the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Perhaps we could order a pizza?"

She laughed. "I love you." That might not have been exactly what she'd meant to say, because before he could respond, she added, "Pizza sounds great."

He kissed her.

He thought back to the things Doctor Strange revealed about Wanda's psychological health. Her panic at his absence wasn't rational, and she knew it, but it was entirely understandable. It would take her time to heal, but she would heal. Vision would help her heal, in any way he could.

But first he had to make sure she survived.