Wanda speaks, and Vision feels the dull emptiness that he’s felt since she was taken eases. She’s here and she’s alive. He quickly hacks into the Raft’s mainframe to find her exact location. He sees her now, and a deep ache thrums through his consciousness. She looks even smaller than he remembers. Guilt washes over Vision.
“Me too,” his words echo those uttered by Wanda’s response to him on their last day together. He should have come sooner. The price of waiting has been too high, and the regret will live with him for as long as he functions. “I’m coming.”
Remotely, Vision senses the cameras in Wanda’s cell have stopped recording, and the monitors that reveal their subject are now playing on a loop. He taps into the speaker to Wanda’s cell. He uses it now to speak to her audibly. “I have taken control of the security systems. Your door will unlock shortly.”
He phases through one bulkhead after another, changing his course as he monitors the movements of the guards. There is a ten minute and twenty-three second window in which the corridor leading to Wanda’s cell will be empty. He won’t be able to phase once he has Wanda with him, but if he carries her, and it’s obvious he will need to, they can avoid detection long enough to reach one of the escape transports nearest her prison.
Vision hovers in a maintenance corridor and waits for his window. The sound of a door sliding open can be heard through the solid walls that surround Vision. He doesn’t need to see the security feed to know that the time has come. Moving with the utmost speed, Vision emerges through the walls of Wanda’s cell and solidifies at her side.
He’s never felt heartbreak before, but in that instant Vision knows that is what he feels now. He crouches down and effortlessly snaps the collar around her neck, then rips apart the fastenings of the straight jacket that pins Wanda’s arms uselessly to her sides. He scoops her up and cradles her closely, noting with painful precision that she’s several pounds lighter than when he last carried her.
“You don’t need to be afraid anymore. I won’t allow this to continue.” His words are as much to reassure her, as they are a vow to those who’ve done this to her. He will not let them near her again. If they should try, they will find him standing in their way.
Wanda stares stupidly at the door for a long moment, understanding the words but completely failing to comprehend what's happening. Vision is here but...not as a prisoner? He's coming to her?
...why? After everything she'd done...
She won't apologize for going to help Steve. Not when she understood in a much more personal way than any of them ever could what HYDRA could do to a person. Steve and Bucky had needed her help. But when she'd seen Clint in a headlock, all she could see was her brother and she'd just...panicked. And reacted. Vision hadn't deserved her misplaced ire.
But here he was, and he was growing closer by the minute (it was minutes, wasn't it? Time was annoyingly fluid in her current state). And while it was enough just to feel the warmth of his mind again, she ached to see him. She missed his presence in her life, his quiet, calming presence, and all of their lazy afternoons and late nights.
She must have lost a little bit of time, because suddenly Vision is at her side. She whimpers when he reaches for the collar, and once it's off her, it's obvious why her instinct was to shy away. It wasn't a newly-acquired aversion to Vision's touch: there are twin burns on either side of her neck from being shocked so often. Her arms and fingers are leaden from the drugs, disuse, and the cramped position she's been held in. She doesn't have the strength to wrap her arms around Vision's neck the way that she wants to, or even to catch the plating of his mantle.
"Vizh," she sighs on an exhale, burying her forehead in the crook of his neck. He's so warm...
"You shouldn't be here...it's dangerous." And yet her gratitude shines brightly through their tenuous psychic link. There's still a strong undercurrent of worry and fear for them both but for the first time since Leipzig she has a glimmer of hope.
Wanda weighs next to nothing in Vision’s arms. She’s lost so much, and he senses that the burns on her neck are the least of the injuries that must heal. Aware of her fragility, he alters the area where her head rests so that it’s as soft as velvet. Beyond that, there’s no time to offer comfort. The window for their escape is closing.
“We need to move quickly,” he lifts a few inches off the floor as he speaks. Seven minutes remain before the guards will return. Without further explanation, Vision glides through the hall as fast as he can without causing Wanda discomfort. Locked doors release as he approaches. But even with his vast skill for navigating computer systems, the security measures will detect his intrusion soon.
One more door and then he sees the hatch for their escape vehicle. Alarms begin ringing out over the comm system. The guards have returned and found Wanda missing. The time for finesse is over. Vison bolts the final distance. As much as he dislikes the idea, he sets Wanda on the ground. The security systems are locking down and he will have to enter the access codes manually. He manages it in seconds, and then scoops Wanda up again.
There’s no time for reassuring words now. He charges through the open hatch and goes straight to the cockpit. Still holding Wanda, he ignites the submersible’s engines. There’s a sudden lurch as the vehicle leaps forward. They’re in only under water for seconds before they erupt from the waves in a spray of moonlit water. Metal wings unfold on the sides of the submersible and the vehicle enters flight mode.
Vision quickly interfaces with the onboard computer and enters the coordinates for the nearest safe place where they can safely land. As soon as the autopilot is locked in, he turns his attention back to Wanda. She’s shivering now, and in obvious need of medical attention. He carries her to the back of the small craft and locates the emergency supplies.
“I need to set you down while I see to your injuries,” he makes sure to keep his voice soft and gentle as he pulls a thermal blanket from the compartment and wraps it around Wanda before settling her on the floor beside him.
Her eyelids are heavy, and Vision's mantle has grown oddly soft under her forehead, so Wanda stops fighting to keep her eyes open. For a while, she lets his presence lull her into a feeling of safety, and one of her hands comes to rest on his chest over his heart. There's no material for her to cling to, but the contact still comforts her (even if maybe it isn't right for her to seek comfort from him after what she's done) and the urge to protect him from Ross has made her fingertips glow red with barely-restrained power. She's not even consciously aware of it.
But when the alarms go off, she stiffens in his arms, eyes flying open and her power retreating. She's terrified, even though she does trust him - she knows there are contingency plans to contain all of the Avengers, even if they may not have planned for this scenario specifically. Thankfully, Vision gets them both into their escape vehicle before the guards can reach them.
She's shivering, both from cold and residual fear, and selfishly she really does miss the simple comfort of being held in Vision's arms. The blanket is nice, and it's softer than anything she's touched in weeks (months?), but it doesn't come with the same innate warmth she associates with him. Her fingers have recovered enough circulation to hold it in place, but before Vision can fully draw away from her, she stops him with a hand to his cheek.
"You came for me," she says with an air of wonder, like the events of the past ten minutes haven't fully sunk in yet. "I thought I was never going to see you again." Her brow furrows, and it looks like she'd cry if she had the energy. "I was so scared..."
Vision’s hand still. He closes his eyes for a moment. Wanda’s words have sunk into his psyche and buried themselves deep inside his heart. He should have come sooner; he should never have allowed them to take her in the first place. It will never be allowed again. Wherever she is, he will come to her if she needs him. Though he’s never consciously processed this thought, he sees that it’s already a prime directive in his existence. His eyes open once again, and he turns away from the medical kit to look at Wanda solemnly. “I will always come for you.”
Their eyes remain locked for several seconds, until a sense of intense vulnerability overwhelms Vision. He blinks and returns his attention to Wanda’s injuries. The supplies are limited, but there’s a salve for burns. He squeezes a small portion of the pungent ointment onto a finger, using the action to compose himself.
“May I?” He lifts his hand so that Wanda can see what he intends. He’s not sure of the extent of what she’s endured from her captors, but she’s afraid and he will do nothing to add to that fear.
Her expression softens considerably as he holds her gaze. "I know," she says after a minute. "I should have known better." He'd found her once before when all hope had been lost, hadn't he? Wanda can't say that she fully understands the strange connection between them, but it's a beautiful, delicate thing.
...and it's also put him in danger on her behalf again. She wants to throw her arms around him, hold him close, and promise that Ross will never get his hands on Vision as long as she's alive. But the reality is that she can't stand on her own right now and she couldn't even protect herself. So instead she's left with a mess of emotions to sort through, and the only thing that's for certain is that she dreads the moment when she has to release him so he can turn his attention to the medical supplies.
She's not looking forward to this part - no matter how gentle Vision is, it's still going to hurt. But Wanda turns her head in silent assent to offer him easier access to the burn on the right side of her neck. "I trust you." And though she winces at that first touch and her fingers tighten their grip on the blanket, she doesn't pull away.
After a moment she chances a sideways glance at him. "Is it...is it bad?"
“The wounds are severe but, with care, I don’t believe they will scar,” Vision replies quietly. He hopes he’s correct in his diagnosis, to think Wanda will carry reminders of her captivity is something he can’t contemplate. Even though she doesn’t complain about the pain, Vision can almost feel it through the connection they share. The searing heat goes deep, and it’s a testament to Wanda’s strength that she doesn’t cry out.
He leans down and blows softly on the angry, red blisters. The air he exhales it cool: a desperate attempt to soothe the pain Wanda so bravely endures. “Do you need a moment before I see to the burns on the other side?”
Wanda lets out a small sigh of relief. The scar from the Scepter doesn't bother her too much - she'd shared it with Pietro, and even though Strucker had lied to them, he'd still made her into something more than anyone could have imagined. But this...if every time she looked in the mirror she was reminded of all her failings and everything Ross had subjected her to, she just might break.
So it's worth the pain, even though the corners of her eyes are wet with tears and it's taking all she has not to cry out. The ointment burns, and her injured skin doesn't really care for any contact whatsoever, not even Vision's gentle touch. Even the cool air he blows onto her skin is a bit of a mixed bag, though she decides the cooling effect outweighs the slight sting.
"Please," she says, a little sheepishly. He's so close that she can tentatively wrap her arms around him, giving Vision ample time to pull away from her if he chooses. "Thank you. I don't know what you did to get me out, but...I know you put yourself in danger. And I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt."
“I did what I had to do. I did what was right,” Vision replies gently. Wanda’s arms slip around his neck and he does nothing to stop the contact. On the contrary, he sets the medical supplies aside and pulls Wanda close. Deep within his heart, he senses that this will provide more healing than any corporeal balm.
Moving carefully, Vision situates himself on the floor and lifts her into his lap. With anyone else this would have felt strange, but with Wanda it’s as natural as the Earth’s orbit around the sun. Yet, it doesn’t feel like enough. He can still sense the inner turmoil created by her concern for him. “I was careful. They won’t be able to trace my presence.”
His words are only partially true. They won’t be able to trace his presence, but the lack of evidence left behind could eventually point to his involvement.
"Vizh..." she sighs his nickname softly and settles into his lap as easily as if they'd done this a thousand times. Nothing's going to magically make her feel like herself again, but this is just good in a way that Wanda has trouble putting words to. It's something like love, something like home, and she nuzzles her cheek against his shoulder and closes her eyes again. For now, it's enough to be at his tender mercy.
"I need you to know...this was always going to happen," she says after a long moment basking in his peace. "If I signed, if I didn't sign, Ross was going to take me anyway." There was a provision in the Accords that anyone deemed a 'danger' could be detained indefinitely without trial. That, along with the regulations stating that she could be forced to fight at someone else's whim, had given her reservations about signing. But it wouldn't have mattered. She knew that the Raft's guards had been practicing procedures to keep her contained before her arrival, and there had been some snippet of an 'accelerated timetable' she'd picked up before time had gone wobbly that first day. "There is nothing any of us could have done."
What Wanda says is true, and Vision knows it. There’s no point in arguing, not even to comfort her. The comfort would be hollow. He won’t offer what holds no substance. He simply cradles her, stroking her hair and offering himself as an anchor. “I know.”
The moment of peace doesn’t last long before a beeping alarm rings out from the cockpit. Vision doesn’t bother releasing Wanda. She’s small and he can easily manage landing the craft with her in his arms. She’s still too weak to walk and he’ll have to carry her once they disembark anyway. He eases the plane down and shuts off the engines. He’s seen Wanda look at pictures of places like this, and he hopes that it will bring her enough peace to ease away the nightmare of the Raft..
“I brought some of your clothes, they’re in the house,” Vision explains. He hits a button and the hatch unlocks. As the door opens the cabin is filled with the scent of lavender on the warm, earthy wind. “You’re safe here, Wanda.”
Just for a moment, she can ignore the pain of her burns and focus almost entirely on Vision's fingers rhythmically stroking her hair. He's found one of her metaphorical off switches, and if he'd had time to keep it up he might have lulled her to sleep. But the alarm jolts her from her trance and she jumps, clutching Vision tighter. He might feel a tiny, brief surge of power around her hands born of her instinctive urge to protect him.
But there's no real danger; they're just landing. Wanda's still apprehensive, but it's not from any lack of trust. It's just hard for her to imagine that there could be any safe haven for her in the world. The light hurts her eyes, but that smell...
Wanda breathes in deeply. It's fantastic. "The house? Are we...is this France?" Sure, she had a Pinterest folder of places she wanted to go someday, and Provence was definitely featured prominently. But she never thought she'd actually see it, and definitely not under these circumstances.
“Yes, I thought—You seemed to have a . . .” Vision sputters to silence. He picked the place because this very cottage was featured in many of the photos on Wanda’s Pinterest account. The account Vision had caught himself looking at more than once as he tried to come to terms with her imprisonment.
But now that she’s here he worries that she’ll feel he was intruding on her personal space . . .on a public website . . .that was available for anyone to see. Like phasing through the walls of her room even though the door was open. “The house was available for short term rental. I thought it would help you in your recovery.”
He carries her to the open hatch and steps out of the aircraft and into an expansive field of lavender. A quaint French cottage awaits them across a gravel road. There’s nothing but trees and nature for miles. Here Wanda can recuperate without the intrusion of the minds of others.
It makes sense, though. Who would look for her here? They'd expect her to run back to Sokovia or one of the neighboring countries. Borders would be watched, cities with major transit hubs would be on alert, but no one would ever expect her to be hiding in this quaint little cottage in the middle of nowhere.
Wanda smiles - the first real one in a very long time - and reaches up to gently touch Vision's cheek. "It's perfect. I love it." She couldn't have picked a better place if she'd tried, and honestly, it feels good that Vision was paying attention to one of the few things she'd been able to find interest in. There was her music, of course, but her therapist had said she needed to have actual goals not related to being an Avenger and so Wanda had turned to dreaming of places and things she wanted to see: the lavender fields of Provence, the lantern festival in Thailand, everything from sunny shores (once she learned how to swim) to urban expanses.
But she'd never wanted to see them alone, and maybe if everything hadn't gone so horribly wrong she might have asked Vision to go with her. He has such a unique way of seeing the world and finding beauty in the most unexpected of places. Of course she's afraid for him putting his own safety at risk to save her, but she's grateful it's him. Anyone else would only have thought of her physical safety but Vision has taken care to make accommodations for her heart. It's enough to make some part of her melt.
She sighs, winds her arms around his neck, and settles her head carefully onto his shoulder. It's blissfully quiet here: the only physical sounds are birdsong and the wind in the trees and fields, and the only psychic noise is the warm glow of Vision's mind. If this isn't paradise, it must be something close.
How in the world is she going to let him go when the time comes?
Vision feels her relax in his arms and he knows he’s chosen the right place for her to recover. That was all he really wanted, but to know that it pleases her brings him a deep sense of satisfaction. Her happiness is something he finds of the utmost importance. It’s almost disconcerting how much his well-being is linked to hers.
He shifts her in his arms and looks into her eyes. “You deserve to be happy, Wanda.” Then he carries her into the house, his passage through the lavender blossoms causing the soothing scent to waft around them both.
The inside of the cottage is as picturesque as the outside. The furnishings are old and elegant, but well kept. It’s difficult to say whether they’re originals or replicas. Either way, they give the house an air of enchantment. He’s spent hours seeing to every detail. There’s a well-stocked kitchen complete with everything needed for paprikash as often as Wanda might like. There are vases brimming with lavender and white roses on nearly every surface. Wanda’s experienced so much ugliness, and Vision senses that beauty is as greatly needed as anything else. Though, looking at it now, Vision realizes he might have been a bit excessive.
But it’s the practical concerns on Vision’s mind now. She still has physical wounds that need attention and is likely dehydrated. Though the medical supplies are not in the open, Vision has been thorough in collecting equipment and any medications that he could possibly need. He didn’t know what Wanda’s physical state would be when he found her. He hoped for the best while planning this escape, but prepared for the worst.
Vision takes Wanda directly to the bedroom and gently places her on the bed. He doesn’t want to release her, but this is a safe space, and he cannot provide the care she needs if his arms remain wrapped around her. Logically, he knows this, but it doesn’t stop the dull ache when she’s no longer in his arms.
“I know it’s painful, but I must see to the rest of your injuries now,” he whispered softly. “When I’ve finished I can bring you something to eat, or you can rest. Whatever you wish.”
Even if Wanda's not sure she deserves this, when Vision says it with such conviction, it's impossible not to believe him. And when he looks at her with such intensity, her heart can't help but melt a little more. He is good and kind, and if he hasn't lost faith in her then maybe she isn't such a lost cause after all.
But it still feels like she's dreaming, and Wanda gasps audibly when Vision carries her into the cottage. It looks like something taken straight out of a fairytale or a Disney movie - she's half-expecting the three good fairies to bustle around a corner with even more flowers. It's beautiful, and Vision's right. After so long in that miserable hellhole, being surrounded by pretty things is just the kind of balm for her heart that she needs. Here the Raft feels like a distant nightmare.
(But of course, the most beautiful thing in the cottage is still Vision's mind, even as weighed down by worries as it is.)
The bed he sets her on feels impossibly soft to someone used to sleeping against a steel wall. Later she will enjoy flopping back onto it...but right now she misses being held. As nice as everything in the cottage is, that simple affectionate contact did more for her than all of the scenery combined.
"I understand." And then tentatively she reaches up to lightly touch his cheek. "It's all right, Vision. Do what you need to. And...thank you. For everything. All of this...I could never have dreamed anything better."
Away from the Raft and the looming threat of immediate discovery, Vision is able to attend Wanda’s injuries with a slower and more delicate pace. He can stop and pull away when she gasps at the contact of his fingers on her blistered skin. He does this frequently, offering her water and waiting until she nods to indicate that he may continue. The task takes longer than the scope of her wounds would imply, but he is determined to cause as little pain as possible.
Even so, the process is eventually completed and they can both put that immediate and temporary pain out of their minds. Vision pulls an afghan from the foot of the bed and tucks it in around her and then sits on the bed beside her. This is a level of intimacy they’ve never approached before, but she seems to prefer it when he’s near.
“Are you hungry?” He asks awkwardly. Despite the evidence that she prefers he stay close Vision’s mind can’t avoid the practical matters of her physical needs. Those are simple, concrete requirements that can be addressed with ease. It’s the deeper hurts and needs that will take more delicate care, and Vision doesn’t know if he’s qualified to fully address them. He wants to. He longs to ease away the nightmare that flashes behind her eyes. He just doesn’t know if *he* is capable of something so complicated. “I could bring you a tray of food. Or tea, perhaps? I procured several blends reputed to be quite soothing.”
He is, as always, her most stalwart protector. Vision doesn't need to be so careful with her - she's had worse even before this and she had been able to endure less leisurely medical care on the flight here. But he is kind and good, far kinder than she deserves, and together they get through the rest of her outstanding medical needs. When he tucks the blanket around her, it's all that she can do not to lean against him in a desperate search for further comfort.
It's not like she's never curled against the nearest Avenger's side during a late-night movie, but this urge is different. This isn't just a desire for physical contact - she wants to be close to him specifically. The world's a little brighter, a little safer, when Vision is near, and there's an odd feeling of warmth that she only feels when she's around him.
She's resolved to ask him if he minds holding her for a little longer (if it's weird, she thinks he'll understand right now) but Vision beats her to it with a question about food. It's so normal that it feels out of place in their fairytale surroundings. "Well...I haven't had real since...since before. I should probably try to eat something? And tea sounds wonderful."
And then, on some insane impulse brought about by the thought of him leaving, even briefly, Wanda cranes her head up to gently kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Vision. For everything."
Wanda’s lips are warm on Vision’s cheek and the warmth lingers there despite the mere second that the contact lasted. It surprised him, and it stilled his movement for a fraction of a second. What he finds more surprising is how that small, innocent contact leaves an imprint on his soul, or whatever it is that makes him sentient. Vision turns his head slowly to meet Wanda’s eyes. She looks contented. It sinks into his consciousness and settles there. He knows that the look of relief, of . . . he isn’t sure what it is exactly, but Vision knows that even without a flawless memory he would treasure that expression forever.
“I’ll see to the food then,” he smiles at her. Then, tentatively reaches up and strokes a stray lock of that beautiful, wavy, russet hair from her face. Though the contact is as tender and careful as any he offered while caring for her injuries, it is different. Something has shifted between the two of them and Vision can’t pinpoint exactly when the change took place. His feelings for her have not changed, except to intensify.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Vision quotes suddenly. Then he’s seized by the ridiculous urge to retreat. “I—I should—the food! I’ll be back shortly.”
Despite his words, and the desire to flee, Vision rises from the bed slowly. The kitchen is only a short hallway from the bedroom but it suddenly feels too far for comfort. Even so, he offered her a meal and he would not neglect her needs now. With a last, lingering look at the door, Vision leaves Wanda to hr rest.
It was impulsive, but she doesn't regret kissing him. The warmth that Wanda always feels in Vision's presence has only grown over time. The world is a brighter place when he is near, and while all of the Avengers helped her learn to live again in some way, Vision made her want to. He's saved her in more ways than he knows. Who could blame her for catching softer feelings for him, especially after this latest rescue?
His touch is just as gentle as always, but this time it sends pleasant tingles down Wanda's spine. Something has definitely shifted between them and she has to fight the urge to lean into Vision's hand. This, like the kiss, doesn't necessarily have to mean anything, but she's sure it's more significant than that. 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' hmm?
Does he mean...?
But before she can figure out her hopelessly tangled emotions, Vision pulls away to go attend to her dinner. And while of course she's hungry, especially for real food, she misses his closeness almost immediately. She might have clung to him if her powers didn't let her maintain a thin psychic connection, just enough to stay aware of his presence but not enough to intrude upon his thoughts. She just feels so much better with the reassurance that he's nearby.
(And safe. She's still afraid, but for him. Ross won't take this lightly.)
When Vision returns, he'll find her curled up under the covers and comfortably propped up against the luxurious pillows. She didn't want to sleep just yet, and so she'd let the sounds of the wind and birdsong and Vision's steady presence lull her into a warm meditative state. For a while, she knows peace, and her smile is a little sleepy (and her cheeks begin to feel a little warmer) as she sits up and inhales. "It smells good, Vizh. What do you have?"
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“Me too,” his words echo those uttered by Wanda’s response to him on their last day together. He should have come sooner. The price of waiting has been too high, and the regret will live with him for as long as he functions. “I’m coming.”
Remotely, Vision senses the cameras in Wanda’s cell have stopped recording, and the monitors that reveal their subject are now playing on a loop. He taps into the speaker to Wanda’s cell. He uses it now to speak to her audibly. “I have taken control of the security systems. Your door will unlock shortly.”
He phases through one bulkhead after another, changing his course as he monitors the movements of the guards. There is a ten minute and twenty-three second window in which the corridor leading to Wanda’s cell will be empty. He won’t be able to phase once he has Wanda with him, but if he carries her, and it’s obvious he will need to, they can avoid detection long enough to reach one of the escape transports nearest her prison.
Vision hovers in a maintenance corridor and waits for his window. The sound of a door sliding open can be heard through the solid walls that surround Vision. He doesn’t need to see the security feed to know that the time has come. Moving with the utmost speed, Vision emerges through the walls of Wanda’s cell and solidifies at her side.
He’s never felt heartbreak before, but in that instant Vision knows that is what he feels now. He crouches down and effortlessly snaps the collar around her neck, then rips apart the fastenings of the straight jacket that pins Wanda’s arms uselessly to her sides. He scoops her up and cradles her closely, noting with painful precision that she’s several pounds lighter than when he last carried her.
“You don’t need to be afraid anymore. I won’t allow this to continue.” His words are as much to reassure her, as they are a vow to those who’ve done this to her. He will not let them near her again. If they should try, they will find him standing in their way.
no subject
...why? After everything she'd done...
She won't apologize for going to help Steve. Not when she understood in a much more personal way than any of them ever could what HYDRA could do to a person. Steve and Bucky had needed her help. But when she'd seen Clint in a headlock, all she could see was her brother and she'd just...panicked. And reacted. Vision hadn't deserved her misplaced ire.
But here he was, and he was growing closer by the minute (it was minutes, wasn't it? Time was annoyingly fluid in her current state). And while it was enough just to feel the warmth of his mind again, she ached to see him. She missed his presence in her life, his quiet, calming presence, and all of their lazy afternoons and late nights.
She must have lost a little bit of time, because suddenly Vision is at her side. She whimpers when he reaches for the collar, and once it's off her, it's obvious why her instinct was to shy away. It wasn't a newly-acquired aversion to Vision's touch: there are twin burns on either side of her neck from being shocked so often. Her arms and fingers are leaden from the drugs, disuse, and the cramped position she's been held in. She doesn't have the strength to wrap her arms around Vision's neck the way that she wants to, or even to catch the plating of his mantle.
"Vizh," she sighs on an exhale, burying her forehead in the crook of his neck. He's so warm...
"You shouldn't be here...it's dangerous." And yet her gratitude shines brightly through their tenuous psychic link. There's still a strong undercurrent of worry and fear for them both but for the first time since Leipzig she has a glimmer of hope.
no subject
“We need to move quickly,” he lifts a few inches off the floor as he speaks. Seven minutes remain before the guards will return. Without further explanation, Vision glides through the hall as fast as he can without causing Wanda discomfort. Locked doors release as he approaches. But even with his vast skill for navigating computer systems, the security measures will detect his intrusion soon.
One more door and then he sees the hatch for their escape vehicle. Alarms begin ringing out over the comm system. The guards have returned and found Wanda missing. The time for finesse is over. Vison bolts the final distance. As much as he dislikes the idea, he sets Wanda on the ground. The security systems are locking down and he will have to enter the access codes manually. He manages it in seconds, and then scoops Wanda up again.
There’s no time for reassuring words now. He charges through the open hatch and goes straight to the cockpit. Still holding Wanda, he ignites the submersible’s engines. There’s a sudden lurch as the vehicle leaps forward. They’re in only under water for seconds before they erupt from the waves in a spray of moonlit water. Metal wings unfold on the sides of the submersible and the vehicle enters flight mode.
Vision quickly interfaces with the onboard computer and enters the coordinates for the nearest safe place where they can safely land. As soon as the autopilot is locked in, he turns his attention back to Wanda. She’s shivering now, and in obvious need of medical attention. He carries her to the back of the small craft and locates the emergency supplies.
“I need to set you down while I see to your injuries,” he makes sure to keep his voice soft and gentle as he pulls a thermal blanket from the compartment and wraps it around Wanda before settling her on the floor beside him.
no subject
But when the alarms go off, she stiffens in his arms, eyes flying open and her power retreating. She's terrified, even though she does trust him - she knows there are contingency plans to contain all of the Avengers, even if they may not have planned for this scenario specifically. Thankfully, Vision gets them both into their escape vehicle before the guards can reach them.
She's shivering, both from cold and residual fear, and selfishly she really does miss the simple comfort of being held in Vision's arms. The blanket is nice, and it's softer than anything she's touched in weeks (months?), but it doesn't come with the same innate warmth she associates with him. Her fingers have recovered enough circulation to hold it in place, but before Vision can fully draw away from her, she stops him with a hand to his cheek.
"You came for me," she says with an air of wonder, like the events of the past ten minutes haven't fully sunk in yet. "I thought I was never going to see you again." Her brow furrows, and it looks like she'd cry if she had the energy. "I was so scared..."
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Their eyes remain locked for several seconds, until a sense of intense vulnerability overwhelms Vision. He blinks and returns his attention to Wanda’s injuries. The supplies are limited, but there’s a salve for burns. He squeezes a small portion of the pungent ointment onto a finger, using the action to compose himself.
“May I?” He lifts his hand so that Wanda can see what he intends. He’s not sure of the extent of what she’s endured from her captors, but she’s afraid and he will do nothing to add to that fear.
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...and it's also put him in danger on her behalf again. She wants to throw her arms around him, hold him close, and promise that Ross will never get his hands on Vision as long as she's alive. But the reality is that she can't stand on her own right now and she couldn't even protect herself. So instead she's left with a mess of emotions to sort through, and the only thing that's for certain is that she dreads the moment when she has to release him so he can turn his attention to the medical supplies.
She's not looking forward to this part - no matter how gentle Vision is, it's still going to hurt. But Wanda turns her head in silent assent to offer him easier access to the burn on the right side of her neck. "I trust you." And though she winces at that first touch and her fingers tighten their grip on the blanket, she doesn't pull away.
After a moment she chances a sideways glance at him. "Is it...is it bad?"
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He leans down and blows softly on the angry, red blisters. The air he exhales it cool: a desperate attempt to soothe the pain Wanda so bravely endures. “Do you need a moment before I see to the burns on the other side?”
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So it's worth the pain, even though the corners of her eyes are wet with tears and it's taking all she has not to cry out. The ointment burns, and her injured skin doesn't really care for any contact whatsoever, not even Vision's gentle touch. Even the cool air he blows onto her skin is a bit of a mixed bag, though she decides the cooling effect outweighs the slight sting.
"Please," she says, a little sheepishly. He's so close that she can tentatively wrap her arms around him, giving Vision ample time to pull away from her if he chooses. "Thank you. I don't know what you did to get me out, but...I know you put yourself in danger. And I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt."
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Moving carefully, Vision situates himself on the floor and lifts her into his lap. With anyone else this would have felt strange, but with Wanda it’s as natural as the Earth’s orbit around the sun. Yet, it doesn’t feel like enough. He can still sense the inner turmoil created by her concern for him. “I was careful. They won’t be able to trace my presence.”
His words are only partially true. They won’t be able to trace his presence, but the lack of evidence left behind could eventually point to his involvement.
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"I need you to know...this was always going to happen," she says after a long moment basking in his peace. "If I signed, if I didn't sign, Ross was going to take me anyway." There was a provision in the Accords that anyone deemed a 'danger' could be detained indefinitely without trial. That, along with the regulations stating that she could be forced to fight at someone else's whim, had given her reservations about signing. But it wouldn't have mattered. She knew that the Raft's guards had been practicing procedures to keep her contained before her arrival, and there had been some snippet of an 'accelerated timetable' she'd picked up before time had gone wobbly that first day. "There is nothing any of us could have done."
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The moment of peace doesn’t last long before a beeping alarm rings out from the cockpit. Vision doesn’t bother releasing Wanda. She’s small and he can easily manage landing the craft with her in his arms. She’s still too weak to walk and he’ll have to carry her once they disembark anyway. He eases the plane down and shuts off the engines. He’s seen Wanda look at pictures of places like this, and he hopes that it will bring her enough peace to ease away the nightmare of the Raft..
“I brought some of your clothes, they’re in the house,” Vision explains. He hits a button and the hatch unlocks. As the door opens the cabin is filled with the scent of lavender on the warm, earthy wind. “You’re safe here, Wanda.”
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But there's no real danger; they're just landing. Wanda's still apprehensive, but it's not from any lack of trust. It's just hard for her to imagine that there could be any safe haven for her in the world. The light hurts her eyes, but that smell...
Wanda breathes in deeply. It's fantastic. "The house? Are we...is this France?" Sure, she had a Pinterest folder of places she wanted to go someday, and Provence was definitely featured prominently. But she never thought she'd actually see it, and definitely not under these circumstances.
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But now that she’s here he worries that she’ll feel he was intruding on her personal space . . .on a public website . . .that was available for anyone to see. Like phasing through the walls of her room even though the door was open. “The house was available for short term rental. I thought it would help you in your recovery.”
He carries her to the open hatch and steps out of the aircraft and into an expansive field of lavender. A quaint French cottage awaits them across a gravel road. There’s nothing but trees and nature for miles. Here Wanda can recuperate without the intrusion of the minds of others.
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Wanda smiles - the first real one in a very long time - and reaches up to gently touch Vision's cheek. "It's perfect. I love it." She couldn't have picked a better place if she'd tried, and honestly, it feels good that Vision was paying attention to one of the few things she'd been able to find interest in. There was her music, of course, but her therapist had said she needed to have actual goals not related to being an Avenger and so Wanda had turned to dreaming of places and things she wanted to see: the lavender fields of Provence, the lantern festival in Thailand, everything from sunny shores (once she learned how to swim) to urban expanses.
But she'd never wanted to see them alone, and maybe if everything hadn't gone so horribly wrong she might have asked Vision to go with her. He has such a unique way of seeing the world and finding beauty in the most unexpected of places. Of course she's afraid for him putting his own safety at risk to save her, but she's grateful it's him. Anyone else would only have thought of her physical safety but Vision has taken care to make accommodations for her heart. It's enough to make some part of her melt.
She sighs, winds her arms around his neck, and settles her head carefully onto his shoulder. It's blissfully quiet here: the only physical sounds are birdsong and the wind in the trees and fields, and the only psychic noise is the warm glow of Vision's mind. If this isn't paradise, it must be something close.
How in the world is she going to let him go when the time comes?
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He shifts her in his arms and looks into her eyes. “You deserve to be happy, Wanda.” Then he carries her into the house, his passage through the lavender blossoms causing the soothing scent to waft around them both.
The inside of the cottage is as picturesque as the outside. The furnishings are old and elegant, but well kept. It’s difficult to say whether they’re originals or replicas. Either way, they give the house an air of enchantment. He’s spent hours seeing to every detail. There’s a well-stocked kitchen complete with everything needed for paprikash as often as Wanda might like. There are vases brimming with lavender and white roses on nearly every surface. Wanda’s experienced so much ugliness, and Vision senses that beauty is as greatly needed as anything else. Though, looking at it now, Vision realizes he might have been a bit excessive.
But it’s the practical concerns on Vision’s mind now. She still has physical wounds that need attention and is likely dehydrated. Though the medical supplies are not in the open, Vision has been thorough in collecting equipment and any medications that he could possibly need. He didn’t know what Wanda’s physical state would be when he found her. He hoped for the best while planning this escape, but prepared for the worst.
Vision takes Wanda directly to the bedroom and gently places her on the bed. He doesn’t want to release her, but this is a safe space, and he cannot provide the care she needs if his arms remain wrapped around her. Logically, he knows this, but it doesn’t stop the dull ache when she’s no longer in his arms.
“I know it’s painful, but I must see to the rest of your injuries now,” he whispered softly. “When I’ve finished I can bring you something to eat, or you can rest. Whatever you wish.”
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But it still feels like she's dreaming, and Wanda gasps audibly when Vision carries her into the cottage. It looks like something taken straight out of a fairytale or a Disney movie - she's half-expecting the three good fairies to bustle around a corner with even more flowers. It's beautiful, and Vision's right. After so long in that miserable hellhole, being surrounded by pretty things is just the kind of balm for her heart that she needs. Here the Raft feels like a distant nightmare.
(But of course, the most beautiful thing in the cottage is still Vision's mind, even as weighed down by worries as it is.)
The bed he sets her on feels impossibly soft to someone used to sleeping against a steel wall. Later she will enjoy flopping back onto it...but right now she misses being held. As nice as everything in the cottage is, that simple affectionate contact did more for her than all of the scenery combined.
"I understand." And then tentatively she reaches up to lightly touch his cheek. "It's all right, Vision. Do what you need to. And...thank you. For everything. All of this...I could never have dreamed anything better."
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Even so, the process is eventually completed and they can both put that immediate and temporary pain out of their minds. Vision pulls an afghan from the foot of the bed and tucks it in around her and then sits on the bed beside her. This is a level of intimacy they’ve never approached before, but she seems to prefer it when he’s near.
“Are you hungry?” He asks awkwardly. Despite the evidence that she prefers he stay close Vision’s mind can’t avoid the practical matters of her physical needs. Those are simple, concrete requirements that can be addressed with ease. It’s the deeper hurts and needs that will take more delicate care, and Vision doesn’t know if he’s qualified to fully address them. He wants to. He longs to ease away the nightmare that flashes behind her eyes. He just doesn’t know if *he* is capable of something so complicated. “I could bring you a tray of food. Or tea, perhaps? I procured several blends reputed to be quite soothing.”
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It's not like she's never curled against the nearest Avenger's side during a late-night movie, but this urge is different. This isn't just a desire for physical contact - she wants to be close to him specifically. The world's a little brighter, a little safer, when Vision is near, and there's an odd feeling of warmth that she only feels when she's around him.
She's resolved to ask him if he minds holding her for a little longer (if it's weird, she thinks he'll understand right now) but Vision beats her to it with a question about food. It's so normal that it feels out of place in their fairytale surroundings. "Well...I haven't had real since...since before. I should probably try to eat something? And tea sounds wonderful."
And then, on some insane impulse brought about by the thought of him leaving, even briefly, Wanda cranes her head up to gently kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Vision. For everything."
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“I’ll see to the food then,” he smiles at her. Then, tentatively reaches up and strokes a stray lock of that beautiful, wavy, russet hair from her face. Though the contact is as tender and careful as any he offered while caring for her injuries, it is different. Something has shifted between the two of them and Vision can’t pinpoint exactly when the change took place. His feelings for her have not changed, except to intensify.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Vision quotes suddenly. Then he’s seized by the ridiculous urge to retreat. “I—I should—the food! I’ll be back shortly.”
Despite his words, and the desire to flee, Vision rises from the bed slowly. The kitchen is only a short hallway from the bedroom but it suddenly feels too far for comfort. Even so, he offered her a meal and he would not neglect her needs now. With a last, lingering look at the door, Vision leaves Wanda to hr rest.
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His touch is just as gentle as always, but this time it sends pleasant tingles down Wanda's spine. Something has definitely shifted between them and she has to fight the urge to lean into Vision's hand. This, like the kiss, doesn't necessarily have to mean anything, but she's sure it's more significant than that. 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' hmm?
Does he mean...?
But before she can figure out her hopelessly tangled emotions, Vision pulls away to go attend to her dinner. And while of course she's hungry, especially for real food, she misses his closeness almost immediately. She might have clung to him if her powers didn't let her maintain a thin psychic connection, just enough to stay aware of his presence but not enough to intrude upon his thoughts. She just feels so much better with the reassurance that he's nearby.
(And safe. She's still afraid, but for him. Ross won't take this lightly.)
When Vision returns, he'll find her curled up under the covers and comfortably propped up against the luxurious pillows. She didn't want to sleep just yet, and so she'd let the sounds of the wind and birdsong and Vision's steady presence lull her into a warm meditative state. For a while, she knows peace, and her smile is a little sleepy (and her cheeks begin to feel a little warmer) as she sits up and inhales. "It smells good, Vizh. What do you have?"