Updated 3/1/19
Birds chirping and a warm light against his cheek were the first indicators that daylight had arrived at last. He was astounded at the length of time that he had rested, possessing an entirely new sense of peace. With his body and mind restored, the weight on his heart lifted. For the first time in over a month, he felt rejuvenated.
He did not recall lying down, nor acquiring a pillow to do so. Under normal circumstance he would remain upright when turning his mind to rest. It was practical, with his body ready defend himself if someone took advantage of the vulnerable state. However, he found that he did not mind the position and the comfort it granted.
"Maybe you should try a mattress sometime."
His eyes burst open as soft fingertips grazed his neck. Coming to realize that the warm pillow he laid upon was in fact Wanda's lap. Shame overwhelmed him as he recalled the night's events and embarrassment flooded his circuits.
"Stop it," she grumbled. "You have nothing to be embarrassed by."
He disagreed, though said nothing as he slowly lifted himself from her lap. His eyes remained fixated upon the carpet, unwilling to meet her gaze.
"I thought that you had vowed to avoid the minds of others?" he whispered in humiliation. Beginning to understand a human's desire to privacy.
"You once told me that you didn't mind me looking," she retorted as he felt the brim of scarlet retreating from his mind. Guilt immediately forced his apology.
"Yes, I suppose you are right." He nodded. "I simply feel odd. The emotions, they are all so strange. There were too many."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"It is not proper," he shook his head before glancing at the marks on her neck. "You have suffered worst."
Her fingers moved to trace the scar before masking her sorrow with a smirk. "I'm fine. It's nothing compared to Hydra's work."
"That does not bring me comfort," he whispered.
"I was tired, cold, and hungry last night." She shrugged with a smile. "I was upset. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You, you're the one who needs attention."
"Wanda, my condition has improved. I do not need to trouble you…"
"That's not what I felt," she glared. "You know what I've been through. I know better than anyone else how dangerous the heart can be. I can help you, Vision. Talk to me, please?"
He prepared himself to deny the request. The pain that had burdened him only a night before had faded greatly from his slumber, and he no longer believed that he required assistance. With a clear mind, it all seemed so silly.
Her hand covered his, blanketing his knuckles with a surprising warmth. Staring at her fingers as they kissed the skin it traced, he recalled the desperation that drove him hundreds of miles simply to speak with her. Remembering the faces of the two men that stared at him in fright. It took only a moment sorting through his memories before he forced his nod.
"They are afraid of me," he admitted softly. "I raised my voice to my friends… I cannot go back. I do not know where I belong."
"Vis," she sighed. "They weren't afraid of you, they were afraid for you."
"I do not understand." His head tilted slightly. She dodged his gaze, appearing nervous to deliver her wisdom.
"I don't think they understood your capabilities of emotion," she whispered shyly. "They thought you were invincible. You're always so good at hiding your feelings, sometimes it's difficult to remember that you're no different from them. When they saw you that night, they were worried about you. And probably quite guilty."
His eyes widened at the comment, while his back stiffened. "I did not mean to cause them to feel such a way. I must inform them…"
"Vis, they deserved it." Her eyes rolled. "You need to think of yourself for once."
"But it is my duty to help others," his countered.
"You can't help others if you can't help yourself. You're not invincible, Vis. You can't keep everything bottled up inside." Her eyes filled with sorrow. "If you do, well, let's just say it's what drove my brother and I into Hydra's arms."
"I made attempts…" he trailed off as he hid his gaze from her. Recalling the subtle moments where he had sought Mr. Stark's guidance. As difficult as it was to recall, only a night prior Wanda herself had failed to allow him the chance to speak. From the edge of his eye he could see that she acted similarly before once again tracing gentle fingertips along his hand. The touch sent a shiver up his arm and the sensation perplexed him. It was unlike the shudders that consumed him when he had felt too much. He was free from pain and he was rested. Why then did his body protest?
"I don't think it will happen again," she met his eyes. "As much as I like the idea of Tony sulking around in his guilt, I think you should go talk to him."
"I do not like that image," he admitted quietly.
"I know," she chuckled. "You love Tony."
His head tilted at the comment, uncertain that he was qualified to be associated with such a term. His admiration for Stark had been acquired from Jarvis. But love? Certainly she was mistaken.
"Come on," she stood, pulling his arm to follow. "We'll talk over breakfast. Then, we'll find you a plane."
His skin shivered with fear as he placed his palm upon the handle of the Avenger's facility. He had only been absent for a few days, but the memories of his outburst prodded his sanity. In Wanda's presence, he had been so certain that she spoke truthfully. That he should indeed return to his creator and face any consequences he had earned. Yet, the moment they parted at the airport, the terrifying sensation of his stomach growing heavy spread with every moment passing.
Opening the door, he finally stepped into the familiar halls of the Compound. It was quiet, much unlike the days before the Accords or even before his abrupt departure. Men would crowd the building, renovating the space that had been destroyed. Now, however, the halls were filled with nothing more than a disturbing silence. He moved forward, searching for life. When he finally encountered another pair of footsteps, he was met with someone that he never imagined to lay eyes upon again.
"Excuse me, you can't just walk in here like that!" The woman's pace quickened as her gaze locked to his form. "This is private property!"
"Miss Potts?" a smile overcame him. She halted at the sound of her name and with a tilt of her head, her eyes widened with recognition.
"Vision?! How are you… you look, human." Her eyes scanned his body.
"Oh yes," he glanced at his pale hands. "I have projected this disguise so that I may go unnoticed amongst the public."
"You look, never mind," she cleared her throat as a blush coated her cheeks. Her interest in his cover appeared to vanish instantly as she wrapped her arms around him. He flinched at the contact. He had witnessed the action performed before, even been on the receiving end of Wanda's quick embrace. Yet, no other human had believed it appropriate to involve him in the strange act. She pulled away before allowing him the time to process what to do with his hands. "We've been worried about you, sweetie."
"I do not understand. I have proven my capabilities to protect myself. Any concern for my wellbeing would be unnecessary."
"I missed you too," she simply smiled and patted his shoulder. "Come on, let's go find Tony. He's been looking for you ever since you left."
"I did not intend to cause trouble," he apologized. She responded with more contact, placing a hand of comfort at his back.
"It's okay, Vision. You've done nothing wrong."
As he had done so often as of late, he kept his disagreements to himself. Knowing that the blame of far too much chaos rested upon his shoulders. She began to lead him through the compound while he watched her in great curiosity.
"Miss Potts. Might I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"Mr. Stark had informed me that your courtship was terminated, that we would no longer receive your visits. Has this factor changed?" he asked, hopeful. Similar to Jarvis' acquired care for Tony, he had equally come to enjoy the company of his counterpart. Their decision to separate had affected him deeper than either human would ever know.
"Oh, well, um," her face reddened at the question. "No, I was just here to help. Tony called after you disappeared, asking if you had come to see me. I've been helping him search for you."
"I am sorry," he lowered his gaze once more.
"I already told you, you don't need to apologize." She stated more firmly this time. "Tony told me what happened, how he's been treating you. The only apology I hear today had better come from him."
He opened his mouth to argue, however, based on the escalation of her temper he benched any-and-all words against her. Instead, he offered a small smile.
"I have missed your presence, Miss Potts." He admitted, hoping she would make the effort to visit more frequently.
"I missed you too, sweetie," she returned the smile. They found Tony in his lab, surrounded by an assortment of monitors and maps. His eyes had darkened from restless nights. Colonel Rhodes sat nearby, looking no better. A stab of guilt sliced its way into his chest as he began to comprehend that their condition was likely a result of his actions.
"Are you seriously bringing your new boyfriend around here to make me jealous?" Tony narrowed his gaze, however the tone suggested that it was merely a jest. "It's working."
"Tony," she rolled her eyes before returning her gaze to him. "He's all yours."
The moment she left his side, his confidence wavered once more.
"Rhodes, toss me the pen." Stark returned his attention to his work. While he gazed around at scattered maps and monitors of facial scanning software, it took a moment to comprehend the reasoning for such tools. "Hey blondie, what do you want? Make it quick before I throw you out."
"Mr. Stark," he finally spoke, earning their questioning gazes. Both hearing the familiar voice, yet troubled by the strange appearance. Disturbed by their frustrated expressions, he hid his gaze to the floor before recalling the pale cover.
"Vision?" The Colonel was the first to respond to the sight of his crimson skin. Risking a glance at the men, he found both their postures stiffen while their eyes remained wide. He shrunk from them, noticing that the stares shared the appearance of those that he abandoned in a panic just days ago. Recalling the events, the fright built up inside him.
"I am sorry for my behavior." Ironically, attention had been his initial desire. For one of the men to spare just a single glance to take notice of the pain he had masked. Yet now, he wanted nothing more than to hide from their gazes. "I should not have…"
"It's okay," Stark interrupted. His shock turned to relief as he tossed the pen aside. Gazing at the array of maps in his midst. "You're, um, a hard guy to find."
"I learned to disguise myself," he explained.
"Yeah, I see that." The man cleared his throat in discomfort. Looking everywhere but upon him. "So, you can feel… stuff?"
"Of course, my body is equipped with nerve endings…"
"Yup, not what I meant. Emotions, Vision, you can feel emotions. Yes?" Stark's brow raised in question. Vision glanced between the two before nodding. "How long?"
"Since the beginning." He thought the question was strange. Though he hadn't understood the emotions, they had always been there. Why would they not?
"You scared the Hell out of us," he smirked.
"Nope," Colonel shook his head. "That's not what you wanted to say."
"You owe one too, you know." Tony bickered to his friend.
"Hang on, let me record this," he fumbled for his phone. "The great Tony Stark, showing some humility."
"Rhodes…" Tony sighed before finally meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry Vision."
"We both are," Rhodes added.
He prepared to shake his head, to deny the claim that they owed him anything. Instead, his foolish heart blurted his gratitude. "Thank you."
"Where did you go?" Stark asked.
"I… I went… I do not wish…" He struggled with his speech, stumbling over each word. Panic that he'd be forced to reveal Wanda's status overwhelmed his crowded chest.
"No, no, it's okay." Stark's hands raised defensively, as if he feared another outburst. "You don't have to tell us."
"Please, I do not wish for you to do that," he responded immediately. Though grateful that the man did not press further, he was disturbed by the thought of his creator fearing him. "I had a moment of weakness, but I will not fail again. I do not wish to be treated as that of a child."
Tony studied him for a moment. Silence encompassed the room as they took in his words.
"How about we treat you like a friend?" Rhodey finally suggested.
"I would find that agreeable," he answered quietly. Managing a weak attempt to mask his joy at the deal they had struck.
"Great, well now that you're home, we have a lot of catching up to do." Stark began tossing the maps into a trash bin. "New prototypes have been put on hold, Rhodey's brace needs some updates, renovations being made. You want to help?"
It took a moment for him to realize that the request had been for him. Not a simple request that could be handled by a mindless machine, but a request of value. "Yes, I would enjoy that."
"Vision, come on man it's starting," Colonel shouted from the couch. Vision entered the room, seeking his task. The man sprawled on the sofa with a large bowl of buttered food in his lap. Meeting his gaze in question, the Colonel pointed to the screen. "Movie night."
He tensed for a moment, frightened that he would be forced to endure another viewing of "Terminator". A horrid series depicting the human's imagination of his own being. The group had encouraged its viewing once before, and he recalled Wanda's ferocity upon discovering their proposal. He had viewed it later on his own accord, when the curiosity became too great. The connotations of the film's relevance to his own being had not sunk in for a number of days, but when they finally did the pressure in his chest had been unbearable. It had been Wanda who rejected his findings, ensuring him that the world did not fear him. Until recently, he had given little thought to his unsavory research. Thankfully, the title that appeared did not match that of which he dreaded.
"Star Wars again? Rhodes, you have an obsession." Tony rolled his eyes at the screen.
"Best movie of our time," the Colonel spoke over him.
"Highly debatable." The man sneered before rising to his feet.
"Where you going? It just started?"
"I've got a meeting with Pepper," Tony replied casually. "Business as usual."
"Uh-huh, business," Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Just try not to get her too riled up, would you? I thought she was going to burn down the building when you told her you lost Vision."
"Yeah, yeah. It'll just be a second."
Vision tensed at the statement, but said nothing. Instead, the two sat in silence as they watched their movie. About halfway through he could not help but notice Stark's continued absence, but his concern was stolen by the man nearby. Wearing a pained expression, the Colonel shifted his position frequently.
"Colonel, are you alright?"
"Vision, how many times do I have to tell you. Call me Rhodes." He grunted before reaching for his medication. "My back is killing me, can you grab me some water?"
"Certainly," he lifted himself off the couch before grasping the empty glass.
As he neared the kitchen, he halted upon noticing the pair standing within the dimly lit room. Caught in an embrace, Mr. Stark swayed slowly with Miss Potts. He was confused by the lack of music, having associated it as the primary factor for such a display. Regardless, they remained there in a silent dance. He knew it was wrong to stare, to invade in their private moment, but the most peculiar thing occurred as he watched. He became entranced by the unique tenderness he had rarely witnessed Stark display before. Miss Potts smiled into his shoulder, chuckling softly at something he'd whispered. Tony kissed the ear that he had gifted with words meant only for her, before she turned to meet his gaze.
As he watched, a great pressure grew within his chest.
Longing. He explored the traits associated with the term, applying them to the current moment. At face value, it appeared to be a match. However, logically, he did not understand. He was not human. He had known that he would never partake in such an activity, and he understood that it was foolish to allow any desire for what he could not have to exist. And yet, the emotion burdened him anyway.
An image forced itself into his mind, one of his own body in such a predicament. In his hand clasped another's, while the other held her small waist. Her eyes bestowed upon him a focused gaze, endowing him the most gracious opportunity to study the depths of her pupils. Brunette hair curled around her neck, blanketing her shoulders in the most adoring way. Lost in the dream, it took a moment to recognize the woman he conjured before him.
Snapping from his daze, shame quickly consumed him. Terrified that even being miles apart, Wanda would be able to sneak upon her own image that was stolen by his mind. His fright nearly caused him to drop the glass he held, as he continued to fret over what felt like an invasion of her privacy.
"I can't do this." He heard a whisper. Glancing back at the pair, Miss Potts pulled away with tears in her eyes.
"No, please," Tony attempted to hold her with a gentle grip. "Don't go. We can talk this out, we can…"
She mumbled multiple apologies through quiet cries, before abandoning the man to the dark. Mr. Stark stared after her, sighing before rubbing his eyes with his fingers. The man was hurting, that much was obvious. Yet as he searched the depths of his mind, no solution presented itself. He watched his creator leave with sorrow in his eyes, staring after him with a troubled heart.
"Try this one," Tony threw yet another shirt in his direction.
"Mr. Stark, I do not understand." He stared at the pile of clothes in his arms. "I do not require clothing, I can simply craft my own."
"Just put it on or we'll be here all day." Mr. Hogan replied grumpily.
"No offense Vision, but you dress like an eighty-year old accountant. Time to change your wardrobe." Tony replied as he searched another rack of clothes.
"It seems like a waste of resources," he pressed once more.
"Oh, look at that," Tony held up a shirt with a printed logo upon it. "You can be an Avenger. I don't recall authorizing this use of our logo."
"Are you serious? You signed off without even reading the contract," Happy rolled his eyes.
Tony tossed the shirt at him. Coming to understand that he fought a losing battle, he used the designated room to dress himself with each item as instructed. He did not enjoy the way the clothes restrained his movements, nearly ripping the seams countless times. However, he found that the soft structure of the material did feel pleasant against his skin.
By the time they had left the store, Tony ordered him to carry a large bag of items meant to fit him. He explained the proper protocol of switching outfits each day. Happy guided them back to the car, taking the bags from his arms to secure them in the back before he could offer to do so himself.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Tony shuffled through a stack of envelopes as they took their seats, handing a section of them over to him. He accepted them with a questioning gaze. "These just came in. Birth certificate, driver's license, passport. All the good stuff."
His eyes observed the papers. "These are mine?"
"No, I'm carrying around Hogan's identifications." The man rolled his eyes. "Of course their yours."
"How did you secure such documents?" He asked before parting the first envelope. Inside, was a small card containing an image of his disguise.
"Why did you think I took those photos?" Tony shrugged before smirking. "I like you and all, but I'd rather not carry a wallet of your face around. Might raise questions."
"Thank you, Mr. Stark," he stated in a sincere voice. Thinking of all the benefits such papers could bring. Particularly the thrill of boarding a plane properly, without sneaking onto the storage dock. Glancing more carefully at the documents, he raised his brow in question. "Victor Shade?"
"Well, Vision Stark is a bit too obvious, isn't it? I thought the point of your cover was disguise yourself." Tony explained.
"I possess a last name?" he tilted his head. "How have I come to inherit yours?"
"Well, since I am the primary source of your creation, I get to choose your last name." The man stated simply before glancing at his phone, ending the conversation. "So, Ross has been on my case about the whole break-out thing. I can only ignore him for so long."
"He expects you to find them." He noted aloud.
"He expects you to find them," Tony corrected.
His head snapped to him in an instant, a spark of fright shooting through his veins.
"I cannot," he stuttered. "I will not deliver them…"
"Calm down," Tony silenced him with a smirk. "I just need you to make appearances near some of his leads. Make some reports, all that jazz."
"You wish for me to lie?"
"It's either that or throw everyone back in prison. Your choice." He shrugged.
"What if I am come across them?" he asked, knowing full well the current whereabouts of each member.
"Call them an asshole and be on your way." Tony attempted to joke, but Vision could hear the distain in his tone. The man clearly continued to harbor distrust towards his former companions.
"I would prefer to refrain from such language," he admitted while shifting uncomfortably, eliciting a laugh from the man beside him. A silence fell upon them for some time. Watching the trees and shops as they passed by, a comment slipped through his lips without thought. "I miss them."
Tony paused from his work on the device, meeting his eyes for just a moment. The man appeared to analyze the words, watching him with calculating eyes before finally sighing. "Me too."
He sat upon a bench in the park, overjoyed by the freedom of going unnoticed by the people that roamed there. Tony had warned him about the ramifications of staring at people, so he limited the number of seconds that he allowed his gaze to linger. There were little ones, children, reveling in the joys of fresh air filling their lungs. Mothers smiled nearby, while fathers tossed a spherical toy back and forth from their bearing.
Family. It was a beautiful concept, yet one that had come to trouble him lately. Having been formed in a womb of metal he had not earned the rights as one's son, nor one's brother. His body, undoubtedly incapable of creating life would deny him status as a father. More undeniably, there would be no woman capable of accepting his hand. His strange hand. The unique birth denied him a title and he would never experience such pleasantries.
He was uncertain as to why such thoughts had begun to taunt him. Tony, along with Colonel Rhodes, had adjusted their treatment since his outburst nearly two weeks ago. There should be no further reason for the dreaded weight in his chest to exist. Yet, as he sat upon his bench watching them revel in their lives, all unaware of the grand gift they possessed, an incredible melancholy overcame him. It became routine to sit upon that bench, hoping the desire would soon grow old. To his dismay, relief only continued to evade him.
His brain, so full of intellect that far surpassed the greatest of minds on the planet, did nothing to soothe his aching parts. The sensible part of him knew it was foolish to dwell there day by day, watching the pairs of humans cling to each other's arms. At the center of his chest, however, existed a different entity. It held great power over his logic and despite his greatest attempts, he could not fight against the visions it placed within his mind.
Images of him strolling amidst the park, his arm linked with another's. She would smile as they walked, sharing casual words in a blissful setting. Each time his mind drifted to the scenario, it formed a new addition to his imagination. Simulating a squeeze of her fingers upon his, a sweet laugh at something he'd spoke, a kiss at his cheek…
He shook his head at the image, once more ashamed at his loss of control. He glanced at the phone number he had been given. Wanda had asked him to contact her immediately after resolving his problems with Tony, though he had resisted having feared that the contact would reveal her location. Yet now, gazing at the digits, he could hardly restrain himself from beginning their conversation. Logic prevailed for what seemed like the first time in a great while as he closed the screen. He let his head fall into his hands, irritated by his lack of control over such simple things.
The imagery always seemed to return. He would succeed in dismissing them only for a short time, but his mind always seemed to crawl back to her. To the slightest touch at his hand that she'd used to comfort him. To the way her eyes looked upon him as an equal, truly an equal. To the way her arms held him so securely when he had broken, and the sensation of her lips against his forehead while his mind slipped into slumber. At the time, the moments seemed like nothing. Just simple fleeting moments of comfort, yet now he wrestled his memory to relay the sensations once more.
He forced himself to his feet, banishing the desires once more and threatening them from returning. However, he knew the attempt was worthless. Knowing that tomorrow he would end up in the same location, with the same longing, and the same loneliness that had begun to plague him each night.
His finger lingered at the door bell while uncertainty gnawed at his mind. Yet, now that he stood at the doorstep it felt even more foolish to turn back rather than proceed. He pressed the button and waited for his greeting. When the door finally opened, the face he'd been met with was foreign.
"Can I help you?" The woman practically glared at him.
"Hello, I am here to see Miss Potts," he responded politely.
"Is she expecting you?"
"Not that I am aware of."
"Mother, who's at the door?" Miss Potts asked before widening the gap to see him. "Vision? What are you doing here?"
She opened the door, ignoring the fiery glare of the other woman. Gesturing for him to enter, he gazed between them before stepping across the threshold.
"Is Tony okay?" Her expression twisted in concern.
"Of course," he answered.
"Why did he send you over?" She pressed.
"He did not, I have come on my own accord."
"Oh," her shoulders relaxed but her eyes remained curious before turning to her mother. "Mom, give us a minute?"
The woman appeared offended at the proposition, but offered one final glare before departing from their sight. Guiding him to the living room, he fell into the comfort of the couch.
"Don't mind her, she just misses Tony," she explained before taking a seat across from him. He opened his mouth to ask why his presence would correlate with Mr. Stark's, but Miss Potts interrupted before he was offered the chance. "Is everything alright?"
"Of course," he glanced to her in question. "What causes you to believe otherwise?"
"You've never come to visit me before," she raised her brow.
"Oh, yes. I simply have questions," he stopped for a moment. Examining the consequences of seeking her advice once more. "I did not think it wise to burden Mr. Stark with them."
She smiled at his statement, suppressing laughter. He sensed the reason she opened her mouth was to explain a flaw in his statement, however she swallowed whatever words she had intended to speak. Instead she offered her attention with encouraging eyes.
"Do you love Mr. Stark?" He asked.
Her gaze turned from friendly to shock to aggressive within an instant. "Did Tony send you here?"
"No, please," panic swelled inside him. "I would prefer that he remain unaware of my visit. I fear that he would not understand my inquiries. I thought perhaps that you might. He is also bound by the Accords to place duty before all else."
He stopped himself, realizing that such information was unnecessary to share with the woman. It would only raise further questions to answers he could not share. He had to keep her safe. Miss Potts' eyes remained suspicious but softened slightly. "Why do you want to know?"
"I simply desired to know if, if I might be able," he stumbled for a moment. He had rehearsed the conversation and could not understand what made his vocabulary so difficult. He took a breath, hoping to calm his nerves. Meeting her gaze, he blurted simply. "What is it like?"
She appeared taken aback by the question. Gazing at him with the strangest of expressions. There was a smile, though it was mixed with a mischievous gaze as she examined him. Letting out a final smirk, she expressed her experience with the emotion. He listened, his heart tumbling at the beauty of her words. Her description ranging from a stomach filled with butterflies (a strange concept he thought) to wanting to care for Tony even when he, 'drove her insane'.
Memories that could only be from Jarvis filled his heart. Memories of an exasperated Miss Potts and a flustered Tony, ending their long day in an affectionate embrace. No matter how trying their relationship became, it always ended in resolution.
"Why the sudden curiosity?" She asked when she finished.
"I was simply researching the…"
"Who is she?" She interrupted.
"I do not know what you mean," he attempted to evade her question.
"The girl that's making you think about love," she chuckled. "Who is she?"
He stuttered as he failed to find a suitable response. Having expected the question to arise, he knew that he should have been more prepared. Yet, he found no help from his intellect. "It is of no matter. I am not human."
Her smile fell into a frown. "What do you mean?"
He opened his mouth to speak, delivering the words that he knew were right in his mind. That he was unworthy of human affection at such a level, that his synthetic heart was no gift to any other, and that his entire being was far too incompatible. This was all common knowledge, though he found it difficult to speak the words aloud. His chest constricted with discomfort as if only just realizing the weight of such knowledge. He stared at his hands, coated in white skin to mask his distinct appearance. Briefly retracting the cover, he gazed at the ruby skin. His heart grew unbearably heavy as he finally answered. "She could never possess such an emotion for me."
"You're too hard on yourself." A hand clasped one of his own. Expecting his body to react as it had when Wanda offered him the same touch, he was surprised when he was not troubled with shivers. The contact offered comfort, though it appeared vastly different. Perhaps Wanda used her powers when she touched him, to ignite his heart with unique sensations. However, why she would bother to bewitch him in such a way was beyond his understanding. "You are more human than most men on this planet. Whoever she is, she's lucky to catch your attention."
Beginning to shake his head, he stopped himself from arguing. Her words were kind, but the facts remained untouched. He became irritated with himself. Knowing that the outcome of his emotions would remain unchanged, he was uncertain why only now had his mind realized the visit was folly. Embarrassment cursed him, discouraging further questions he had intended to ask.
"Miss Potts," he finally managed to speak. "Could this conversation remain between the two of us?"
"Of course," she promised. "Though I strongly suggest you talk to this girl."
"I am not certain that I should," he replied before remembering that he'd vowed to silence the conversation. Her curious gaze demanding explanation. "Any attempt to contact her could endanger her freedom."
"Endanger her freedom? What do you… Oh." Realization appeared to overwhelm her, while fear overwhelmed him. What had he done?
"No, I, you misunderstand," he stumbled over his words. Visions erupted in the back of his mind: of Secretary Ross forcing him into cuffs that could not contain him, before forcing him to betray those he cared for. He'd have no choice but to fight. He would become a criminal.
"Relax, Vision. Your secret's safe with me." She simply smiled. The words did not immediately relax him as he debated the debts of which he could trust her. However, as she met his gaze with genuine eyes, he recalled why he entrusted her with such a conversation in the first place. He nodded in gratitude before her eyes fell into the floor. "How is he? Tony?"
He nearly sighed in relief at the change in subject, composing himself before answering. "Outwardly, he appears normal. However, I fear that he wears a mask."
"What makes you say that?" she asked quietly.
"He is different than I remember. I had thought that his melancholy was a result of Colonel Rhodes' injury, however I no longer believe that to be true. The Colonel has overcome his disability, and yet Mr. Stark remains unhappy." He watched her, studying her reaction. Not wanting to hinder whatever affections she still held for his creator, yet at the same time desiring nothing more than to have her presence at the Compound once more. "I believe he suffers as I do. I believe he misses that of which he has lost."
She sighed at his words, looking everywhere but upon him. A mixture of emotions that he failed to understand scattered across her features. Finally, she allowed the softest whisper. "I know."
She nodded before removing a quiet tear. He stood from the couch, ready to dismiss himself from the home. Before whispering a soft goodbye, she pulled him into her arms once again. He smiled against her hold, thankful to be more prepared for her hug. Before stepping across the door she encouraged him one last time to contact her. He hardly made it to the sidewalk before retrieving his phone; pulling up the number he'd so frequently avoided. Whether it be bravery or foolish hope, he finally pressed send.
Reviews
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