A/N: Hey, everyone! Thank you for sticking with me through the slowest of slow burns. I hope y'all enjoy the chapter and happy memorial day! My undying love and appreciation, as always, goes to crotchety_old_emu over on Ao3!
Chapter 13: Wants
The rental outside of Zürich is quaint. A chalet, more spacious than the previous apartment. Wanda's favorite feature is the wooden balcony that stretches around the second floor. Rows of flower boxes line the banister, underlining the silhouette of the mountains in the distance. It reminds her of the fantasy novels she'd sneak away to read as a teenager.
She's out there now in one of the old rocking chairs, reading a book Sam lent her. He told her it was a French classic, gushed about its commentary on optimism and tragedy. It's short, and she's barely ten pages in when her mind starts to wander. Reminiscing about all those countless nights she spent in the orphanage library with Pietro.
It's no wonder that she barely notices when Natasha comes out. "Reading anything good?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't gotten very far into it, yet." Wanda shuts it, passing it to her as she walks by. "Have you read it?"
"A long time ago. It's a real hoot, much better in French." Nat drops the book on the table between them, perching herself in the seat opposite her. "Vision says dinner should be ready soon, if you're hungry."
"Okay, thanks."
"Sure thing." Nat tips her head, leaning closer into the space between them. "While I have you here, I wanted to ask you about something."
"Oh?" Wanda's intrigued.
"I'm going to be taking off soon, and I'm not sure when I'll be able to meet up with you all again. I have a friend I have to visit in the old country. It won't be a vacation and, if anything, we'd be in more danger than we are here. Still, if you wanted to tag along, you can."
"You make it sound very enticing."
"Yeah, well, there was a reason I took off running. I don't have any choice but to go back and deal with it, or I wouldn't be going."
While the two of them have always gotten along, they're not as close as some of the other members of the team. Before Vision saved Wanda and the guys from the Raft, she and Nat almost exclusively limited their interactions to work and training. It leads her to inquire, "Why wouldn't we all go, together?"
"As much as I appreciate the thought, I don't relish the idea of sneaking America's Most Wanted Sweetheart into the middle of communist Russia for an extended period of time." Nat smirks. "Plus, he and Sam have a plan of their own, anyway."
The escape was hardly a month ago, and it's barely been two days since they've arrived at the rental house. The last thing Wanda wants to do is pack up and go- again. But if everyone else is making plans to go their own ways, then maybe she ought to be, too. "When are you leaving?"
"In a few days. We have this place until the end of the week, but I'm working on a way for everyone to check in so we can stay in touch." She stands, heading back inside. "Unless, of course, you decide to come with."
Finance is odd. Money is such an arbitrary abstraction. It interests him in some aspects. The Vision is learned in its genesis, comprehends the numbers naturally. He can create and analyze private equity models in minutes, execute trade deals faster than any broker. It makes accumulating wealth facile, but it does nothing to solve any salient plights. It's just one of many failed diversions.
Emotions plague Vision. In the aftermath of his argument and subsequent reconciliation with Wanda, he's spent as much time as possible trying to understand them better. Only to fall short of the mark, more often than not. Earlier, at dinner, he'd almost missed Steve and Natasha's announcements of their imminent departures because he was so wrapped up in his own musings.
Alone in the sitting room, he's lost in contemplation again, kicking around ideas of how best to describe his present feelings. He's going back and forth between uneasy and discomfited when Wanda comes down the stairs.
"Are you sitting in the dark?"
He flicks on a lamp, bathing the room in low light. "Not anymore. Trouble sleeping?"
"Mmm." Curling up on the opposite side of the sofa, she cradles her knees to her chest. He adjusts his positioning to face her, draping an arm across the back of the couch. "What were you doing?"
"Faffing about, indulging in frivolities... Did you have another nightmare? I didn't see anything, I give you my word." They've been getting on marvellously. However, given the Vision's track record, he dreads the idea of undermining the immense headway they've made.
"Thank you. But no, not tonight." Wanda divulges a modest simper, and he has to quell the flurry of reactions it provokes. A feat made all the more challenging by the unceasing maelstrom of emotions churning within him. The fleeting glimpse he gets of her dimples only rouses the tempest, endears her to him more.
"Might I ask, what is keeping you, then?"
Her chin dips down behind her legs, stifling her reply. "I don't know what to do, when everyone leaves."
"Ah, I suppose there are a considerable number of options."
She seems less than inclined to believe him, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"
"You don't think so?"
"I can't show my face on U.S. soil, or in the other 115 odd countries that signed the Accords. Not to mention, I'm in debt to Shuri, and the Wakandans."
"So, you don't want to go with Steve and Sam to Wakanda, or with Natasha to Russia." Vision absent-mindedly taps his forefinger on his lips, pensive. "Is there anywhere you would like to go? Anything that you want to do?" She could go anywhere in the world, do anything, be anyone, with anyone. Of that, he's sure, Accords or not.
"I don't know. I- It doesn't matter what I want." It's disheartening to hear how much she genuinely believes it.
He shakes his head, "No. No, that's not true."
"Yeah," Wanda lets out a low chuckle, raising her head to rest her cheek on the cushion. "How do you know?"
"Well, because knowing what you want is half the work, isn't it? Until recently, I didn't know I could experience authentic emotions. I didn't think I had the autonomy required to desire. So, I never wanted for it, or for anything. But, now… "
But, now he feels as if all he does is want, especially for what he can't have. As if he's spending each day waging war against his desires. Still, "Now that I have the knowledge, I have freedom. I have the sovereignty to possess and pursue those aspirations. What you want is important."
It's fleeting, but for a split second, he can make out a smile when she comes back with, "That's awfully 'pursuit of happiness' for a guy with a distinctly British accent."
"I mean, both of my dads are American." In all actuality, considering Thor added the final burst of energy required for his creation, it could be argued that he has four fathers and a mother. In any event, he sees her joke for what it is: deflection. "Kidding aside, I would like to know. Should you wish to tell me."
It's the familiarity of his words, the passion in his speech, the vulnerability he wears without inhibition. It's the ambiance, the late hour. Whatever it is, Wanda feels unequipped to answer aloud.
Instead, she reaches up to Vision's hand on the back of the couch and takes it in hers. It gives her something tactile to hone in on, reassurance she can physically grasp.
'I want to go home. I want to have a home. I want to see my family, and feel like myself, again. I want one day where it doesn't feel like the world is ending, or someone's out to get me. I want…' Wanda toys with his fingertips, aims her attention at the contact, tries to buy some time from her own despondency. 'I want to feel safe.'
'Why would you think that doesn't matter?'
'Because I can't have any of it.'
'Why not? They're all perfectly reasonable desires. You can have all of those things, and you should. Maybe not right this second, or all at once. But it's all attainable. It's somewhere to start. And, now you have an answer for what to do when everyone leaves.'
'I do?'
'Of course, you've just said it. We go to Sokovia, to see your family.'