Vision met her eyes across the battlefield, and he saw the blood drain from her face. She sunk to her knees, and he knew something was wrong. When she lifted a bloody hand from her stomach, he shouted her name as loud as he could, but even that could not stop her eyes from slowly closing.
With Wanda sinking to the ground, so helpless, with gunfire raging around, he was suddenly filled with a white-hot rage. He swung the man in front of him off the balcony, and sent the next man flying with a punch. He flew up above the fray and sped toward Wanda.
He landed beside her limp body, and held her gingerly in his arms.
"Wanda. Please no. Wanda." He lifted her up and and flew faster than he had ever flown back up, the way they came. He kept going, all the way to the jet, but once he arrived, he stopped. Where was he going to go? They were in Pakistan, and he couldn't fly to Sol to find Helen Cho.
He paused, realizing he was panicking. He had never felt the strange clenching in his abdomen, or the feeling of not being able to breathe. He closed his eyes for a moment, and in his mind's eye, he could see a map of the area, straight from the internet. He studied it for a moment, before readjusting Wanda in his arms.
"You're going to be fine. I'll take you to a hospital and they can get you help," he whispered to her before lifting up again and heading north, leaving the sound of battle behind.
Vision sat in the small, white room, his head in his hands. He had left Wanda with the doctors after they took her away and shooed him off. He felt like a fist was wrapped around his heart like a vise. He closed his eyes for a moment, and all he could see was her white face as she sunk to her knees.
Vision opened his eyes again and stood. He couldn't just wait for the doctors. He walked outside of the hospital's waiting room and onto the darkened streets of India. He scanned the internet for the best and closest hospital and flew her there. He couldn't shake the pit in his stomach, and he began to walk.
He was so worried. He worried he wouldn't see her again. He stopped and put his hand against a brick wall and closed his eyes. He could see her in his mind. Her wavy brown hair, soft and slightly tangled. Her beautiful eyes, so full of emotion and power. Her strength, her beauty, her unwavering loyalty. The way her face relaxed when she slept, or the way she laughed, or the way she looked at him. And she might be gone.
He opened his eyes and buried his fist in the brick wall. He withdrew it, and stared at the hole he made. With a bitter smile, he turned away. He tried so hard to be emotionless, to be like that brick wall. And he had gotten in his own way, and she broke right though his supposed 'emotionless' exterior. And now it was his fault. If he hadn't driven her away, made her think that he didn't love her so much that it tore him apart, then she would have fought closer, wouldn't have gone after that man alone. Maybe she wouldn't be hurt. She wouldn't be dying. He closed his eyes for a moment. If she died, it would be all his fault.
He made his way back in the direction of the hospital. A man walking the street saw his face in the passing illumination of a street lamp. He blanched at his red skin and furious expression and walked to the other side of the road. Vision watched with a strange twist of savage satisfaction. He would not be trifled with this night. Not while Wanda dangled on the edge of life.
He stopped before the brightly lit hospital. He knew they wouldn't let him in to see her' they were neither married nor related. So he simply searched the reaches of the internet for her room number and lifted into the sky, his cape trailing behind him.
He paused outside the window, looking into the darkened room. He could see her still form in the bed, illuminated by the beeping machines. She seemed to be stable, so he phased through the window.
He walked to her bedside, looking down. She looked so peaceful, her face still and soft, with her hair spread out across the white pillow to make her look like a princess.
He smiled slightly and sat in the chair beside her bed. He reached up and touched her hand very slightly, wanting to be sure for himself that she was okay.
At his touch, Wanda shifted slightly and her eyelids fluttered as a sigh escaped her lips. He withdrew his hand quickly, trying not to wake her, but the damage was done. Her eyes opened halfway, and took him in.
"Vision?"
Her voice sounded sleepy, like she had just woken on a normal day. Except it wasn't a normal day. She was lying in a hospital bed, a gunshot wound in her abdomen.
He managed a smile for her. "Hey there," he said. He wasn't sure what to do. He wanted so badly to kiss her, to take her hand, to tell her how much he regretted what he had said. But he remembered the rage and pain on her face, and wasn't sure she would forgive him.
Wanda smiled, and closed her eyes. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For saving me," she said, her voice soft as she opened her eyes again to look at him. Her eyes were gentle and loving.
In that moment, he didn't care. He didn't care that she was human and he was merely a shadow of one. If he knew anything at all, it was that he loved her with a feeling stronger than anything he had ever known.
Instead of speaking, he just smiled and kissed her forehead.
She looked up at him. "What was that for?"
He smiled. "I love you," he said quietly. The look on her face was all he needed to know he made the right choice.
"Now get some rest. I'll watch over you," he said, sitting down in the chair and gently taking her hand. She smiled slightly and closed her eyes.
He smiled and watched over her until the sun came up.
