|ｖｉｚ (visioned) wrote in avengers_logs,|
@ 2021-06-01 09:46:00
|Of all the things that could be possible, this was pretty high on the list - yet Wanda had been taken completely by surprise. She had been at the edge of the city, seeing if she could figure out exactly how to avoid detection by Strange’s magical net, the one that told him when people came and went between this world and others, to ensure it would not alert him if she left the city when she stopped to glance at the network - and saw his post. |
Now that he agreed to see her, Wanda had opted not to waste time. She used her levitation powers to fly back to the Avengers Tower without being seen by the casual city dweller and landed on the roof to take a moment to herself. This was a lot for her to deal with, but at least now she wasn’t as emotionally raw as she’d been a few months ago, waking up after those new memories and hearing her sons’ voices ringing in her ears. She had searched for them here, but had yet to hear them on the astral plane - but she was still very aware that they could at any point appear in this universe.
As Vision had.
After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she used her magic to create a doorway for herself into Vision’s apartment. As she stepped through and it disappeared behind her, Wanda’s eyes immediately sought him out.
The apartment Vision had been assigned was functional - for a human, it may even be considered quaint. A bedroom (he did not sleep), a kitchen (he did not eat), a bathroom (no use for that either, really), a place to do laundry and then what he deemed a ‘living room.’ A place meant to entertain guests, as if he would ever receive any of those.
He did not plan to decorate the space, not with any knick knacks or framed works of art - it was as stark as his emotions, bare and bone-dry. Whatever else he would do while entrapped in this universe that he’d somehow fallen into remained blank - he attempted to analyze and form a plan, perhaps track down a mission to give him a purpose but he had none.
Beyond the fact that he was Vision. The true Vision.
Sitting on the sofa, he set the communication device aside and waited for Wanda to show up. It didn’t take her long, and her magic was discernible to him - he assessed and decided it was rich and decadent. "I am here, Wanda," he spoke up. He had much to learn about social graces, he thought, but she had said she only wanted to see him. Still, offering her a seat seemed like the next step.
"You may sit anywhere you'd like."
For a moment, she just stared at him. He looked so very different, matching the images on the network of course, but to see him in person again...it was too much, and at the same time not enough. The scarlet lines of her power faded completely and Wanda crossed the room slowly until she stood before him.
Rather than sit right away, she lifted a hand to his face, but stopped a hair’s breadth away from actually touching him. Her eyes glimmered with tears as she gazed down at him, then spoke softly, opting for asking permission.
It was - strange. Yes, very strange to invoke such a reaction - but when he swam through the stream of memories that had been an entire deluge, floodgates opening (it was akin to being broadsided by a large truck, he imagined), he had noted that Wanda played a large role in Vision’s life. His life. There were feelings he didn’t understand, ones he didn’t know if he was capable of because everything regarding such things remained a black hole, a question mark - and his most intimate moments were also spent with her. No one else.
He didn’t answer right away - he simply wrapped fingers around her wrist, finishing what she had started by pressing her hand to his face; he was a mix of inorganic and organic material, tissue and smooth vibranium. Chaos magic also crackled and sparked within him, running in currents throughout his body.
She was much warmer than he was.
“You’re crying?” he stated, though it came out more like a question.
Wanda’s breath caught and held for a moment as he touched her wrist, then slowly exhaled when her palm touched him. He felt the same as he always had, and all she could do was gaze at his face, devoid as color as it was, in silent awe. It wasn’t until he spoke that she realized the tears had slipped from her eyes and ran slowly down her cheeks, and she gave a small laugh, following it up with a helpless nod.
“They’re happy tears,” Wanda assured him, before smiling and brushing her thumb across the edge of his cheekbone even as her other fingers grazed other familiar features. “I’m happy to see you. I wasn’t sure I ever would again,” she said quietly.
Happy. Happy to see him. Vision thought that, in his other existence, he would have said he returned the sentiment - but as it was now, he didn’t place the feeling. Couldn’t. Though he certainly catalogued what was happening with Wanda - neurotransmitters, those tiny chemical messengers, sending impulses between nerves and other cells. The brain did not have a single emotional center, but different emotions at different structures - this was something he yearned to understand.
Her circulatory system reacted as well - changes in the temperature of even her fingers. Her heart beat faster. And then there were those tears - little shimmering lakes of fire. Vision caught one as it rolled down her cheek, rubbing his fingers together curiously.
“It has been difficult for you to feel happiness,” he surmised - because he remembered the look on her face as she had to kill him. It was one of the last things he recalled, before he went floating into an abyss. Nothingness, like a wind blowing through him and bending him as if he were a tiny tree, until he awakened once more.
He did not understand joyous emotions, but he would have wanted her to experience them regardless.
It was so strange, seeing him this way. In a lot of ways, he was the same man, with bits of his personality sprinkled there, but in others...he was different. Different wasn’t bad, but Wanda knew she’d have to be patient with him and give him time to adjust. Even if she didn’t fully understand how Hayward was able to give him consciousness again, or how he was able to have any of Vision’s memories of all without the Mind Stone’s presence, he was still Vision. Perhaps it would help even further that she had that piece of Vision within her own heart.
And even without the full range of his own emotions, his observations were astute, and she nodded. “I missed you,” Wanda replied simply - before adding, “And...the boys. Billy and Tommy. Do you remember them?” It was entirely possible that he didn’t and she tried to prepare herself for that, and for the thought that he might not know of Westview at all, not really.
Though she wanted nothing more than to cup the other side of his face as well and kiss him, Wanda instead slowly let her hand fall away, then sat sideways on the couch - legs crossed so that she could face him while they talked. It was a familiar position for her, and one she fell into almost naturally as her eyes searched his face for more signs of the man she loved.
Vision shifted on the sofa to face Wanda as well, wanting to better see her too. He searched the recesses of his memory bank, information rapidly processed and images flashing in his mind's eye - but he could not recall those she mentioned. "I do not," he admitted. "I re-awakened just outside of Westview, New Jersey. I was sent there to destroy you. To destroy Vision. But a copy of myself showed me - I am Vision."
He'd left soon after that, flying away from the town and embarking on a journey he was unsure of - unsure what he was looking for, and where it would lead. Ultimately, it led him here. Not long after he took flight he found himself within the Avengers Tower, in New York City, having crossed over into a different universe entirely.
Magic, perhaps. The inexplicable.
"Who are they?" he asked then. Billy and Tommy.
The lack of knowledge hurt more than it probably should have, even if it was understandable. She probably could’ve pushed the knowledge into his mind, but instead...she lifted one hand, and her power appeared, thin red tendrils recreating an image of the two boys - first as babies, then as the other ages they’d been before ending at the age of ten. The images shimmered between the two of them, and Wanda finally pulled her gaze from Vision to instead smile at the images.
“Billy and Tommy are our sons. Twins, with Tommy being born first.” She nodded to the one with the slightly longer hair. Like the…’copy’ of you, I created them somehow, in Westview.” For a long moment she hesitated, then lifted her eyes to Viz once again. “Except I believe they somehow still exist. I heard them call out to me there, in our world, when I was on the astral plane.” While, yes, she went to Loki with the hopes that he could help her learn more about her abilities, her ultimate and reason for finding the Darkhold was saving her children.
Well, if anything could cause Vision to short out - it was probably this knowledge. He had so many questions already - the most prominent one was how (he was aware of his composition, and the fact that he was not biologically compatible with the idea of reproducing) but Wanda explained that first and foremost. Created similarly to his Hex counterpart - however, much like his Hex counterpart, these boys were...lost.
Somewhere. Floating between the fabric of the multiverse - without their mother, without him. Their...father.
He was entranced by the crimson constructs she created, then blinked - eyes turquoise like the mineral - forming thoughts. Words. Something to say. He did not know 'comfort,' but he reached over and rested his hand on Wanda's arm. "Perhaps - we can find them."
Tears glimmered again, but she kept them from falling by wiping her eyes with one hand, which then rested on the back of his on her arm. Hearing those words - particularly from him - made her heart swell and all Wanda could do was be thankful that he was here.
“I hope to,” she replied quietly. The images between them brightened briefly, then slowly faded away which somehow made the room and its starkness feel sharper than it had a moment before. “I’m very glad you’re here. I know how unusual this must all be.”
Surprisingly, Vision found he was glad to be here too. At the very least, he had purpose - looking for the children would give him purpose. He could learn more about Westview beyond the assignment he was programmed to complete - he could become a person, not simply a weapon. The thought was intriguing even to someone who maintained so many memories of a former life lived, but the emotional connection to those memories was barely hanging on by a thread.
It could be developed, however. His curiosity, his search for knowledge, to understand who he was now and who he had been - that would push him onward.
"I will remain here," he decided quietly, voice smooth and calm like a gentle rain. "And I do not mind unusual."
This time, she gave him a smile, a genuine one that blossomed quickly at his words. “Good,” Wanda replied. “I imagine you must have a great deal of questions, but I don’t know how much you know or remember of everything else. I’ll help you however I can, and I know others will as well. But I ask that you not talk to many about Westview, or what I told you about Billy and Tommy.” Wanda hesitated, knowing he would question that, and continued a moment later.
“What I did there...it would be difficult for some to understand. And - it’s very private. To me, to us. Darcy Lewis knows, because she was there in Westview, but the rest...I am not certain they would have the same priorities I do.” And she didn’t want to debate and discuss with ‘the group’ what she intended to do.
Humans, in Vision’s brief experiences with them, were certainly strange. But he was familiar with concepts like secrecy and the need for concealment sometimes - there were certain situations where this was beneficial (even if in his former body, the idea of privacy seemed foreign - who could blame him, however? He was bits, code, bytes and many wires, organic flesh and bone and metal - social graces did not come with the package until a little bit later). And while he wasn’t privy to the entirety of the situation here, he would take Wanda at her word.
“Of course,” he agreed easily. “You can trust me, Wanda.” They had children. He wished to find them as well - and so for that, he would default to her. “When you are ready though - will you tell me more about Westview?”
There were pieces of the puzzle he could grasp, hypotheses made about her motivations - but he’d much rather hear it all from her directly.
“I know I can.” And she did, because at his core he was still the man she loved. He was still Vision, still hers, and his next question proved as much. Letting out a quiet sigh, Wanda gave a nod.
“I can tell you all of it, right now,” she said softly. “I need to. After those of us who Thanos had killed with the gauntlet we were brought back by the Infinity Stones and Thanos was defeated, it took me a little while to find out what happened to you after the battle in Wakanda, five years ago. I learned that S.W.O.R.D. had you, and went there to ask to see you or to be given your body so that I...so that I could give you a burial. It took a little while but Hayward finally agreed to see me, and he showed me what had happened to you.”
That memory burned, particularly because of how violated he’d appeared on the table, taken apart with wires exposed. And rather than white with blue eyes like he appeared now, he’d been a sickly shade of gray, his eyes as blank as when she’d destroyed the Mind Stone herself and he’d died; the same blankness that she’d seen when Thanos reversed his action and plucked the stone from Vision’s head himself. Once she’d again collected herself, Wanda squeezed his hand.
“He refused to release you to me, and I left. I went to Westview, where there was a plot of land for a house that you had purchased for us. There was nothing yet there. No house had been built, and the plot had only a little bit of foundation and I...fell apart. And in my grief, I created you and the Hex and...took control of the minds of all those people. I didn’t fully understand what I had done or how far it extended, not at first. But then I convinced myself that I was helping them all.” And then she went on to tell him the rest, about how their lives had been modeled after the happy families she’d grown up watching in sitcoms, and her brief pregnancy, Monica, and everything else that had happened, ending after she described the fight with Agatha and talking to Monica, then studying the Darkhold.
“I’m looking for the Darkhold here, to try and find a way to save our children.”
Vision listened, letting Wanda hold onto his hand as he heard her story. It was interesting - while he was void of emotions, she was filled with them; his murder, her grief, it had all triggered a neuroelectric response in her - that energy she released was fueled by emotion, and it had nowhere to go but to become a blueprint for her own personal bubble of protection. For her, for them.
Of course, pursuing what could be deemed a perfect life and avoiding pain took work. It seemed exhausting.
And her sadness kept her from fully realizing how the townspeople were suffering. “Life can be a worthwhile thing - even if it is not perfect,” he mused thoughtfully. “I understand why you let it all go. This Darkhold - it may hold the answers. Thank you though, for explaining.”
It was a lot of information but he needed to know.
“I had to let it go, and I thought it best to take myself somewhere private. And then I woke up here, with all of those memories.” The more she thought about it, the more convinced Wanda had become that it was all real - and Vision showing up now proved it. All of that had happened. Lifting one hand to again brush at her eyes, she met his once more.
“I’m hoping that it does. Loki is helping me to look for it, as he’s heard of it even in Asgard. Dr. Strange is...I don’t know fully if I can trust him. I believe that if he were to come into possession of the book, he would deem it too dangerous, even for me. But I’ve looked into it and I do believe it can help us find them.” She was reinforcing her words just a bit, because if anything she wanted him to know how important it was to find that book.
His brow furrowed - an actual expression, surprising that it didn’t crack the smoothness of his face - and while Vision fully planned to not violate Wanda’s trust, he couldn’t help but internally question if the Darkhold was truly going to solve everything the way she thought it would. But he did not know Loki and he did not know Dr. Strange - and thus he could not make an accurate assessment of trustworthiness for either; for the moment, he would simply take her at her word and gather some information on his end as well.
“I will help you look for the book,” he assured. Was the safety of the world, the fabric of reality itself, worth threatening because Wanda wished to find their children?
No. The pragmatic side of him did not think so. But - he would need more information. More elaboration. “It - will be alright. I am here now.” That he could promise - he was here. And it was bound to be a journey for them both.