The Unknown Emotion ~ A WandaVision Fanfic

Chapter 6

I woke up early with them, and waved goodbye as they entered the small private plane. Wanda walked in last, and grinned at me before she disappeared behind the doors. I memorised every detail of her face and her smile, just in case.

The next few hours I spent in solitude. I thought I would feel lonely, but it allowed me time to clear my head. I flew around the fields, simultaneously soaking in solar rays for energy, and practised Steve's combat training on some unfortunate dummies in the gym.

Later, I decided to watch some films. I turned on the screen and continued to watch a video Sam had been watching the night before he left. The film lacked storyline, character development, coherent dialogue, and the two main characters remained undressed the duration of the movie. After it finished, I returned to my room to read some books.

"Hello" I greeted the cleaning lady, who nervously shuffled around my room in fear of the scary red-blue man laying on the bed. Or perhaps it's my strange robotic eyes that she found traumatising. My idle mind wondered what caused her to work here if she was so terrified of the guests. I hoped Mr. Stark pays her well.

Mr. Stark called me on the telephone in the evening, inviting me to his lab to 'hang out'. Mr. Stark was no father-figure; he treated me as dryly as he treated the others, but I was touched by his concern for my wellbeing.

I refused his kind invitation, as I knew he was troubled and was dealing with a lot of stress in his life, along with the overbearing guilt he felt for the creation of Ultron. He didn't need to babysit me as he dealt with all of that.

Anyway, I wanted to be here when the others arrived, and listen to their stories of battle. I kept the television on an international news channel, knowing that my friends would show up on the feed soon enough.

After a few days, Mr. Stark called me again.

"They're coming back"

I sighed in relief, before noting the tremor in his voice. "Is everything ok, Mr. Stark?"

"Vision, when they come back, you can't let Wanda leave." He stated, his voice business-like but still tinged in worry.

I felt a wave of panic in response to the mention of Wanda's name. "Why? Is she ok?"

"Go to the TV right now" he demanded. A video  was playing on the screen, which I knew he had put on for me. It was taken by a shaky mobile device, but I could make out the forms of Steve and Wanda.

Steve had a man to his knees. The man flicked a button and erupted in a ball of fire while my metaphorical heart jumped up into my throat. But Wanda was there, containing the explosion in a semi transparent red bubble. Unable to contain it any longer, she shot the red bubble into the sky, and gasped when the explosion flew through the building.

"11 people died" Mr. Stark said quietly through the phone. "The Wakandan government is pissed, as you'd expect. Wanda is hated by the world right now. Keep her in the compound. Keep her safe... and keep other people safe from her."

"I understand" I replied hesitantly. "But she isn't a person who can be caged indefinitely-"

"She trusts you. Use that. Just until I sort this out." He ended the call with a click.

A few hours later, I heard the whirring that suggested the others have arrived. Steve threw the plane door open, and they marched out and into the compound, their droopy body language indicating exhaustion.

They greeted me weakly, Sam with a nod and Natasha with a non-enthusiastic 'Hey'.

Wanda emerged last with Steve, overwhelming guilt etched into the tired creases of her face. They walked by me, not seeming to notice I was there to greet them.

"Wan-"

Steve turned slightly to give a subtle shake of the head. Wanda needed time to herself to move through this. I understood and backed off.

The night was spent in agony. All the bedrooms were concentrated in one area of the facility, but my bedroom was the closest to Wanda's. What concerned me was that she didn't show signs of emotional distress, such as sobbing or sniffling. I couldn't hear her soft snores either. Her room was dead quiet.

The reason I agonised over this chilling silence is because I briefly recalled the event months ago; after the death of her brother. It had taken much time and patience to coax her broken self out of her shell. Her health had deteriorated due to lack of sleep. After a month, she began to sleep deeply once again, and her soft snores had been a balm to my soul.

It was clear that neither of us were going to sleep tonight. I crawled out of my bed and walked quietly across the hall. I tapped the door.

"Who is it?" She asked shakily. I opened the door to see her sitting on the bed against the wall, her knees tucked under her chin. She had been crying; that was obvious by the tear streaks that led from red puffy eyes. She looked so very indescribably fragile in that state that I believe she'd crumble away if someone were to touch her. She placed her head between her knees, hiding her face.

"May I join you?" I asked. She didn't respond but I sat next to her anyway, keeping a wide distance in case she didn't really want my company.

I do not possess psychological powers, at least not that I know of. Yet in that moment, I could feel pain that wasn't truly mine. I understood that this pain was her grief, yet it was somehow transferred to me. For a moment, I wondered whether she was using her powers to shift the burden of her guilt onto me. If it assisted her with overcoming the pain, I truly wouldn't mind. However the red mist was not in sight, and a brief glance at her wet eyes confirmed that they were her natural hazel colour.

After what seemed like ages, she lifted her head to look at me. "Before I left, you said I was good. Did you actually believe that?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"I did" I replied in a heartbeat. "And I still uphold that belief."

She angled her eyebrows. "How can you say that Vis'? I killed 11 people."

I shuffled closer, feeling a panicky exasperation at her train of thought. "Look at it practically, Wanda" I urged. "If you hadn't shot Rumlow into the air, the impact of explosion would have killed approximately 23 people of the surrounding crowds, including yourself and Captain Rogers. I may sound brutally insensitive, but the lives of those 23 people have higher priority than 11. You can't let guilt consume you like this. I won't allow it."

My answer hadn't improved her mood, it was easy to see. I knew from experience that logic does not have the ability to soothe a person's guilt. Telling ourselves that we had 'saved' Sokovia and the world had done nothing to erase the grief for the people who were lost.

"I wish I had stayed here, like you'd asked me to" she stated, a tremor of regret in her voice.

"I don't" I said rashly. "If it weren't for you, a lot more people would be lost. You saved lives today Wanda, I won't let you forget that. Even if other people say differently."

She gave me a bittersweet smile. "Thanks"

"For what?"

She chuckled gently. "Just say 'you're welcome' Vis'"

"Er.. right. You're most welcome"