Chapter 24: Camping

A/N: I've never been so unsure about a chapter before, y'all. I'm not sure why, but it is what it is, I guess. Please feel free to let me know your thoughts in the comments below. Any and all are welcome. Stay safe, everyone!

They fly as fast as Vision can manage in his current state, not stopping until Wanda spots a heavily canopied wood and points it out ahead of them. 'There. We'll hide in there.'

The second they land, she sends out a crimson cloud, like a dense fog spreading between the trees in every direction. Sitting against the nearest tree, his pain receptors almost fried from the onslaught of input, Vision watches, sore and fascinated.

"We're alone." She drops to the grass in front of him, gently pulling his afflicted arm onto her lap. "We need to take care of this." The concern in her tone is evident and leaves no room for argument. Sucking in a breath as the energy emanating from her hand grazes along the edge of his shoulder wound, she says, "I'm sorry. Forgive me if this hurts?"

"It won't." It doesn't. Not in the least. "There's nothing to apologize for. I just feel you."

For over twenty-three minutes, Wanda focuses on patching him up, methodically weaving the vibranium and skin back together. A quick diagnostic shows she's repaired the damage to full integrity. It looks as if nothing ever happened. "Brilliant. You're astonishing."

Letting out a half-sob, she takes his face in her hands, her mouth softly slipping over his. With luscious, painstaking tenderness, she juxtaposes the rapid intensity of the past several hours. At some point, she pulls away and he refuses to give up contact, finding himself unable to completely let go so soon after losing her. He takes her hand in his, skimming his fingertips against hers.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No, not at all. Thank you. You were spectacular back there, you know. You'd never even know you had a cold. How are you feeling, by the way?"

"I'll be better when we're safe. How- How did he do that to you?"

Frowning at her non-answer, he makes a mental note to keep an eye out for symptoms. "The vibranium. He could control it, somehow."

"Is that even possible?"

"It isn't supposed to be." Then, recognition hits him. He's seen the man that attacked them before. "The train to Sokovia, he was on it."

Wanda raises an eyebrow, "Erik was on the train with us?"

"Erik? As in, your Erik Lehnsherr? That's who he is? He looked so different in your dream."

"He's not my Erik. And, that memory is from more than ten years ago. He was younger then." Standing, she tugs him up with her and starts leading them through the forest.

"What do you think he wants?"

"It doesn't matter. We're not going anywhere near him. He's too dangerous."

It does matter, he thinks. If they remain in the dark about what Erik wants, then they can't know if or (more likely) when he'll come looking for her next. He's confident Wanda is aware of that, too. So, instead of pointing it out, he tries for levity, "We should have stayed in bed."

The gorgeous smile he gets in return is confirmation enough that it's the right decision. If only for the time being.

While they walk, they fill each other in on what they've missed. Wanda explains how she found Erik waiting at the door, their short conversation, waking up in the abandoned house. Vision tells her of the seminar, the convenience store, and his own capture.

He finds out that they've ended up in Scotland. Somewhere in Galloway Forest Park, far from any trails or visitor centers.

After an hour of walking, they come to a large stream. The water is clear through to the bottom and looks deep enough to bathe in, come morning. It'll work, Wanda decides, slowing as they approach the rocky outer bank.

She's overtired, burnt out from the events of the evening, covered in filth and grime. Luckily, kind of, this isn't her first go-round. It comes back to her quicker than she thought it would, a happy surprise for such a horrid day.

Together, they gather enough wood and leaves to start a fire and build a small shelter between some boulders. At first, she's hesitant about the fire, nervous that the smoke might bring attention to their position. Eventually, Vision wins her over, convincing her that among the potentially hundreds of people camping in the park, it won't give away their anonymity.

He takes a seat against one of the boulders, leaving enough room for her to fit under the makeshift roof with him. Trying to find a way she can sleep comfortably, they shuffle around each other. Ultimately, ending up with her nearly perpendicular to him. Her legs bent over his, her head on his chest.

Settled, he wraps an arm around her back, allowing her to better curl into him. Listening to the sound of moving water, she's as close to relaxed as possible, all things considered.

'You're quite adept at this.'

'I've had a lot of practice.'

'Did your family go camping often?'

'Never. I think Papa would have enjoyed it, given the chance.' Wanda lets out a sigh, idly tracing the contours of his shoulder. Her brain conjures a ghastly image of his injury, as it was. Steadfastly ignoring it, she forces herself to refocus on the conversation, on the smooth, healed skin she can physically feel. She has to. There's no time for anything else. 'You remember our last night in Zürich together?'

'I do. You told me about losing your parents. We made cake.'

'Well, you might have noticed that I glossed over certain, uhm, aspects.'

He nods, 'You don't discuss your time with Pietro prior to the orphanage.'

'No, I really don't. It's not as if it was a big, drawn-out thing. It was a few years. Three or four, at most…' Her chest suddenly tight, she trails off, staring past the fire.

Vision hums softly, his hand warm and solid on her back, playing with the ends of her hair. It's an encouragement for her to continue, if she so pleases. An unspoken assurance that he won't push her or be angry for the things she can't express.

'The first couple of months were the toughest. We didn't know our way around anywhere. It felt like every time we moved we were getting arrested, regardless of whether we did anything or not.

We tried using fake names. At some point, the police started recognizing us. Which, I should have seen coming,' she suppresses a nervous laugh threatening to bubble out. 'From then on, we spent as much time in the mountains as we could.

Every so often we'd go into the city for supplies, food, mostly. I never could seem to get enough for us to eat. That's what I remember the most. That feeling of being so hungry it hurt. Knowing Pietro felt the same and that it was my fault for not being able to provide for him. In retrospect, there was a lot that I should have done differently.'

'Except, you were ten years old, displaced from your home, caring for a sibling, and mourning the loss of your parents.'

'You make it sound like I was some kind of martyr or something. It's not like that, though. It- it just happened.'

'That is precisely my point. You've said that you should have foreseen difficulties with the authorities, that you should have responded to your situation differently. But, what I can't comprehend, is how you think that you could have in either case, given the circumstances... Do you also hold Pietro responsible?'

'What? No. No, of course not. Vizh, he didn't have a choice. And, even if he did, it's not as if he would have been able to understand the ramifications. He was only a-a boy, only a child. How could you, how could I expect him to-'

A breathy, "Oh," escapes her, turning to wispy steam in the chilled air. She's caught in another one of his logic traps. Dead to rights. And the worst part is, she set it off all by herself.

'You were both only children, darling.' He shifts the arm behind her back to envelope her in a hug. 'You did the best you could with what little you had. You were fighting for your survival, for the most basic of human needs. Neither of you is responsible for it. It just happened.'

The validation strikes her to the core. It feels like a shift somewhere in her soul. It's not earth-shattering or mind-blowing, but it's perceptible and she's positive that if she allows herself to feel it for all it's worth, she'll start crying and won't be able to stop for hours.

So, rather than give in, she moves impossibly closer to Vision, flattens her hand across his chest, and changes the subject. 'Darling, huh?'

'I happen to think you are, yes. Is that- is it okay?'

'Yeah,' he turns his head to look at her, lets her steal a kiss, 'it's okay.'