Finally got to Part 2!

Disclaimer: See part 1

Enjoy!

~A~

His eyes

The first thing Wanda noticed about him, when he came to her rescue despite the fact that it was the last thing she wanted, were his eyes.

She supposed she never really thought androids...had eyes. Well, that was stupid. Of course she knew they did-but she hadn't suspected they'd look so life like. She'd never expected them to have that speck of humanity inside of them, the same kind she'd seen in her parents, her brother, and everyone else she cared about.

Her brother…

Her musings dissipated around her like water flowing from her fingertips, reminding her that she had more on her mind than androids. Her brother was dead-the last connection to her past, the last thing she'd cared about, the last person she had left to love-and now she was alone. She was so alone in the world and she didn't have one person left to her. She had nothing to live for, really-just a lifetime of fear spent with people who didn't understand her powers and would always be frightened by her, whether they realized it or not.

She just wanted to fall and fall and fall and never look back, to feel her body dissipate into millions of tiny pieces as she met her brother for the final time. No grief, no pain, just...nothingness. A nice way to go out, all things considered.

But here was Vision, stopping her from falling. And she couldn't seem to stop staring.

She forced herself to tear her eyes away and let thoughts of her brother consume her once again-grief, loss, and the terrible feeling of what to do next. She had no one and nowhere to go, hardly even a hundred dollars to her name. She couldn't remember a time she'd felt so lost and alone, like she'd been set adrift in the ocean and had no idea where she would go next. And this wouldn't be happening to her if she'd just been able to fall-but the world wouldn't even let her do that.

In that moment, she hated him. She hated him so much he wanted to tear those blue eyes out of his head and crush them under her feet, to rip him apart piece by piece until there was nothing left and even then he wouldn't feel a shred of what she felt, even a quarter of her regret and loathing. How could he know anything about humanity? He was an android. Why couldn't he see that by saving her he was delivering her to an existence worse than death?

It was strange, really. Ever since she'd acquired her powers she'd become obsessed with people's fears-finding ways to use it to her advantage, realizing that would just a few simple hand gestures she could have even the strongest people in the world putty in her hands (and then proved it too)-but the only nightmare that had really come true was her own, because here she was without Pietro alone in a cruel, cruel world that seemed to be doing the best it could to tear her apart.

Vision touched down softly on the deck of the helicarrier and gently set her down on the hard steel, where she was immediately absorbed by a tide of people dressed in medical clothing. She wanted to brush them away, to say that she was fine and the last thing she needed was their ministrations, but she was borne away before she could do so on a current of regret and loss.

After a while, she realized it didn't matter. She just felt numb and cold, mourning the one thing she would never be able to replace.

She looked back once, just before the metal doors closed behind her. In hindsight she wouldn't really understand why she had done it-only that something inside of her had made her do it, instinctively. Perhaps a part of her that understood how it was all going to turn out, even before they'd had their first conversation.

Vision was watching her go. She was surprised to find that the fact that he was still there didn't really surprise her.

~A~

His Curiosity

"Wanda, why do humans put milk in their cereal?"

Wanda looked up from the magazine she was skimming-something Natasha had left lying around because she didn't have anything better to do-to look at the team's 'youngest' member. For someone who was basically a walking computer he certainly had a lot of questions. He was constantly asking Steve and Natasha about human emotions and behavior whenever they watched TV as a team building exercise. But this was a new one-and the first time he'd asked her. She could have counted the number of conversations they'd ever had together on one hand. "I don't know, Vision. I suppose it's just something we do."

"It seems a waste. Cereals are perfectly healthy and nutritious without the addition of some form of dairy."

"I don't know. Maybe we just like the way it tastes. Besides, the world has such a problem with factory farming that I suppose the milk needs to go somewhere."

He nodded as if her weak explanation was perfectly acceptable and went back to his careful study of the kitchen stovetop. Why he was studying the kitchen stovetop was a mystery to her but she didn't ask-not after Sam asked him why he'd spent three hours examining the back of the television screen. Everyone needs a hobby.

However, she noticed that he researched factory farming for most of the afternoon.

~A~

"Why does this coat cost seven hundred and forty dollars?"

The team was shopping at Saks Fifth Avenue because, as Natasha put it, they had an image to uphold and everyone dressed like street rat-and technically, Wanda was the only one who fit that description even if no one would let her admit it. She'd been able to find a few outfits she liked but tried to spend as little as she could, mostly because it felt strange to her letting other people pay for her outfits when she couldn't.

"It's a designer brand." she replied, examining it appraisingly. It was sleek and black-streamlined for maximum efficiency. She liked it immediately. "The materials are higher quality and you have to pay more for them."

"I can find at least three department stores nearby that can offer you the same coat at significantly lower prices."

She had to laugh. "I guess there are just some people out there who like to spend exorbitant amounts of money on clothing. It makes them feel like they're of a higher status to everyone else-which in turn makes them feel better about themselves. It's a strange way of thinking for me-I don't think clothing should dictate your self worth-but if you have the money…"

He nodded. "Does wearing expensive clothing help your sense of self worth?"

If she'd been drinking water, she was sure she would have choked on it. As it was, she looked around to be sure none of her other teammates were around (they weren't, thank God) before she responded. "No. Sometimes the people with the most money can be the cruelest and the people with next to nothing are the kindest people you'll ever meet." She was...fortunate enough to have seen both sides of the coin. "Now, if there was a nice shirt or something...every once in a while I might splurge. But realistically?"

"You should buy that coat. I believe it would look very nice on you."

She instantly reddened without really knowing why. "No thank you. That's very sweet, but I've already bought enough."

"I'm sure Natasha would be more than happy to buy it for you-"

"I'd rather not rely on her hospitality, Vision. The team has already given me enough as it is." A home, a job, a second chance...even the closest thing to a family she'd had in twelve years. She owed them everything-and she worried that any day it could come crashing down around her. She was desperate not to upset anyone, not when they'd already done more than she could possibly repay.

"I could buy it for you." He of course never needed to buy anything, considering he had the handy ability to change his appearance whenever he felt like it.

"You don't need to do that-"

"It would be my greatest pleasure, Miss Maximoff." There was no hint of grudgingness in his voice, nothing that told her he was doing it only out of an obligatory sense of duty. She didn't quite know what to make of it.

Then again, when it came to Vision she always had a lot of questions.

"If you're very sure it's no trouble…"

"Of course it's not. We're teammates, right? Don't teammates do nice things for each other?"

She couldn't help smiling as she grabbed the coat in question, even though she was blushing so hard she hoped desperately Natasha wasn't around. "Yes Vision. I suppose they do. Thank you."

He was silent for a second, as if searching his mental databases of common phrases humans said. "Don't mention it."

~A~

Once the rest of the team realized that Wanda didn't mind answering Vision's many questions, they began sending him her way whenever he was confused-which happened a lot. At first it was disorienting, trying to come up with explanations for emotions and behaviors that couldn't be found on a web page-but she soon found herself warming to the challenge. Vision was a rapid learner and soaked in everything she said to him as though it was the most important thing he'd heard all day and each new discovery he made seemed to fill him with unspeakable wonder and a new appreciations for humanity. He managed to find ways to get her excited too, even about things as small as a boy receiving a new puppy or two lovers holding hands for the first time.

Understandably, love confused him more than anything else-how someone could have feelings for someone else that defied convention, logic, and common sense. One night, the team watched a movie about a pair of young lovers who eventually eloped to Brazil, leaving behind their family, friends, and university degrees. As soon as the credits began to roll he asked her "Why would they do that?"

"Do what?" It was late and she was tired; she had to dig her fingernails into the her palm to keep herself alert.

"They had very good lives-loving families, a promising future-and they threw it all away simply so they could be...together. It's simply illogical."

"I suppose...not everything humans do is logical. Sometimes humans just want to do something spontaneous-something that will make them happy. The desire to be happy overrules almost everything else-convention, rules, even society itself. Not everything we do can be easily explained." Not like him-everything he did had a purpose, and she couldn't imagine him doing anything spontaneous even if his life depended on it.

Just then Sam practically bolted through the doorway with no warning, startling her so badly she almost fell off the couch. "Ready for training?"

She rolled her eyes. "Was that really necessary?" But she got up good naturedly and followed him outside, falling into an easy conversation about a movie they'd watched a few nights ago that they both mutually hated. It took her a few minutes to realize Vision wasn't with them; he was still staring at the blank screen of the television, seemingly lost in thought-as though trying to quantify what couldn't be reasoned out.

~A~

His Innocence

Growing up on the streets of Sokovia-a rough, harsh world where there was never enough food or places to get away from the subzero winters-Wanda felt as though she was never able to have a 'normal' childhood. She'd never had a pet-her parents had always said they would get a dog or a cat when the twins were older, but they died before that could happen. She'd never had a father to teach her how to drive. She'd never had a mother to teach her how to shave her legs or put on makeup. She'd learned from a very young age that the world was a cruel place where nightmares came true just as often as dreams did and she had to look out for herself if she wanted to stay alive.

That wasn't how Vision thought.

In many ways, he was really the youngest member on the team-he lacked the weary edge that the other members had acquired through years of being slowly worn down but never quite broken. He saw beauty in the little things-when they were out on the town to go grocery shopping or sightsee he would often stop her to point out an especially beautiful flower or a golden sunset. He would stop outside of playgrounds to watch small children at play, squealing and laughing as they swung from the swings or raced down the slides. He was fascinated by magic shows-he always researched the sleights of hand used to make a rabbit appear out of a hat or one handkerchief turn into many, but he always looked slightly fascinated by them too. He would buy little presents for members of the team for silly reasons-the sky was especially blue, their mission had gone especially well, or there had been a particularly interesting fight during sparring. Everything surprised him-and he seemed to genuinely love life, more so than anyone else she knew.

So much so that she slowly found herself being taken up in his fantasies too. She stopped more often to smell the flowers and spent hours at night watching the sun set over the Base in a blaze of pink and yellow. She couldn't help smiling every time she heard a child laugh-and soon she found that she laughed more easily and more often. She noticed random acts of kindness she would never have noticed without him-the man who held the door open for the woman behind him, the child on the street who gave two crumpled dollar bills to a homeless man sitting in the corner of the subway station, the couple kissing under the shadowed overhang of the Met. They served as reminders to her that the world wasn't all death, destruction, and poverty. There was still light in it, light the Avengers were fighting to protect.

This realization helped her through Pietro's death, more so than the grief counselors Sam recommended or the pamphlets Natasha dumped on her bed.

Even though he was unbearably naive, never having felt betrayal, grief, or soul crushing loneliness, she found his presence strangely comforting. He was the kindest, gentlest person she'd ever met-and he saw the best in everything and everyone, even her. Somehow, he managed to convince her that she wasn't the broken wreck of a person she'd always thought she was-repairing her broken pieces one sunset at a time and showing her that despite all the greed, power grabbing, hurt, and betrayal humanity wasn't really lost after all.

~A~

He Reads the Encyclopedia

Rhodey figured it out first when he walked into the den with a pizza one night and saw Vision perched on the edge of the couch, reading a book that was as thick as the coffee table. "Are you reading the encyclopedia?"

Vision nodded absently, flipping the page unperturbed. "It's a fascinating read." The other members of the team exchanged looks; fascinating wasn't exactly the word most of them would have chosen to describe the encyclopedia but to each his own, Wanda supposed. She assumed he would grow bored of it as he went on, the way everyone else did when they as a child invariably decided that it would be a good idea to read it.

But he didn't. He read it whenever he had spare time-at the breakfast table, between sparring matches, even in the Quinjet on the way back from a mission. It wasn't long before he finished it-and then he went back to the beginning to start all over again.

"Don't you ever get bored of that?" she asked him one day, when he was on his third or fourth reread. "I mean, it doesn't really have a plot or characters does it?"

"It's not...interesting, perhaps, in the way the rest of you perceive interesting." he replied, those piercing blue eyes looking up at her. "Yes, it doesn't have a plot or characters-but it is very informative. And until I feel I understand humanity better, I would rather learn hard facts than read a fictional book where the plot's events are constantly calling human judgment into question."

"Does it help-learning about…" She glanced at the page over his shoulder. "...zebra mussels?"

"Yes, I believe it does. Perhaps we could read something together sometimes? Then if I have questions you can explain things to me."

She grinned. "I'd like that-only I'd like to pick out the books. I'm sure the encyclopedia is very informative, but I'm sure it would put me to sleep."

~A~

His Blunt Honesty

Being what he was-a nearly omnipotent android with an incredibly advanced brain but an extreme lack of understanding when it came to abstract concepts-Vision had a nearly nonexistent filter when it came to what he said. Apparently, when he was still Jarvis, Tony had programmed him to be brutally honest with him-and that old program had carried over into his new body. This led to many interesting (and usually funny) misunderstandings-lots of jokes went completely over his head and he found irony in a few things that weren't exactly meant to be funny.

Tony threw his first big party to celebrate the New Avengers only a couple of months after the Battle of Sokovia. It was a black tie event, which Wanda soon learned meant fancy clothes-which meant going clothes shopping in some of the most expensive stores on Fifth Avenue because the billionaire would settle for nothing less from superheroes. To give them a head start, he gave Natasha a credit card and told her to max it out with the most expensive things they could find.

Sam, Rhodey, and Natasha were more than happy to comply, heading straight for the priciest items on the shelves. Steve was more reserved, browsing through the clearance racks first-at least until Natasha told him in no uncertain terms she wouldn't buy him anything that was under seven hundred dollars. Wanda was somewhere in the middle, trying to adopt the carefree attitude the others had of throwing money around like it was an unlimited commodity but still wincing every time she looked at a price tag. And Vision spent his time looking through men's fashion magazines, looking for an outfit he would adopt for the night of the party.

Finally everyone had found their outfits. Wanda had chosen a black dress she was very proud of, with small sleeves and a hemline that hit just above her knees-but Natasha took one look at it and shook her head. "This is one of Tony's parties, sweetheart. I think you're required by law to show some cleavage." She shot the boys a withering look, warning them to stay put, and dragged her back among the clothing racks.

She bypassed the first few rows of dresses they passed, looking from Wanda to the products for sale and back again-so quickly Wanda wondered how she didn't get whiplash-before she finally pulled out a tight red number studded with rhinestones Wanda wouldn't have felt comfortable wearing even in her wildest daydreams. "Try this on."

"Are you sure? I don't think that's such a good idea-"

"Just trust me. Every girl should be able to feel like a woman at least once in her lifetime-and you certainly deserve something nice. You'll look smashing-and I think I know women's fashion better than you do." So Wanda reluctantly tried the dress on, trying to hide the fact that she felt like she'd be sick as soon as she looked in the mirror. She looked so...different-all of her curves were accentuated, most of her thighs were bare, and the neckline plunged even more than normal. She wouldn't wear an outfit like this in private-much less to a fancy party.

She dragged her feet as she went back to where Natasha was waiting. As soon as the Russian spy looked up and saw her, she flashed a quick thumbs up. "That's the one." And just like that, Wanda knew she didn't have a say in the matter.

Of course, the boys chose that moment to come walking around the corner laughing and talking-and they broke off immediately as soon as they saw her. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, wishing she could simply disappear. This wasn't who she was-and she certainly wasn't used to people looking at her like she was anything special.

Then again, she'd never worn a dress like that before. In fact, she still couldn't believe she was. Why did I let Natasha talk me into this again?

"You look beautiful, Wanda." Vision said, breaking the sudden silence. "Very beautiful."

If it was anyone else, she would probably have shaken off their opinion as something said on instinct, just to be nice-but because it was Vision, who didn't know how to play games or manipulate emotions the way so many others did skillfully, she couldn't help smiling. "Thank you, Vizh."

And in spite of all her doubts, she found herself wearing that red dress with the confidence needed to wear it-for that party and all the parties after it.

~A~

He's Won Every Game of Chess He's Ever Played

And he's played seventy seven games, according to his synthetic cerebrum that apparently measures such things.

At first they tried to beat him-Steve played a couple of games and gave up, as did Wanda (she didn't see a point in trying when her opponent was perhaps the living embodiment of a computer. Sam, Rhodey, and Natasha lasted a little longer. Rhodey conceded defeat after twelve games, Natasha after twenty seven, and Sam (finally) after a whopping thirty five, all spread out over seven or eight months. After that, he was declared the team champion and no one played chess anymore-at least, not to win.

Tony didn't believe them at first-he thought they were all just terrible at chess. So of course-because God forbid Tony Stark should shrink from a good challenge-he came over one day to show everyone else how it was done. What started as a couple of games stretched into a night long marathon, where the other members of the team had to constantly ferry him cups of fresh coffee as he considered each new move-with more and more exhaustion as the night wore on. It didn't matter, really-Vision won every single one.

Tony conceded at dawn and Vision never had to defend his title again.

~A~

He's a Truly Awful Chef, but He Tries

The first time Vision came up on the team cooking schedule, he became almost inappropriately excited-because he'd never cooked anything in his life and he was determined to rise to the occasion (like father, like son, as Natasha would say-just before she rolled her eyes). He decided to start with something easy-grilled cheese sandwiches. Somehow, he ended up not only using the wrong kind of cheese but also completely burning the sandwiches-bread and all. None of it was salvageable and they ended up ordering pizza instead.

Looking back on it, Wanda realized that should have been their first omen. They should have taken him off the schedule right away-but instead they decided to give him a second chance.

For his second attempt at the culinary arts, he made spaghetti and meatballs. His spaghetti was watery and overcooked and his meatballs had the consistency of melted tar. Natasha took one bite and refused to eat any more. The others tried to be more accommodating and got through a few more bites before they too were forced to stop-and Rhodey, Sam, and Wanda were floored by an awful case of food poisoning the next morning. Only the Super Soldier Serum running in Steve's veins saved them from the same fate. Natasha just spent the rest of the day sniggering "I told you so." in between cleaning up vomit.

Vision had found he enjoyed cooking-no matter how terrible he was at it-so he was kept on the cooking schedule just for his pride. However, it became an unspoken agreement between the team that the others ate whatever he made at their own risk-knowing full well it might make them ill. While they looked over his food appreciatively and maybe took a bite or two to taste test, they invariably ordered takeout instead.

Wanda tried. She really did. No matter how awful his food looked or how much it looked like it was going to turn her stomach, she ate it anyway-as much of it as she could within reason, that is. Milkshakes that looked moldy, pancakes that were so burnt they were nearly black, meatloaf that was falling apart-and not in a good way...she tried it all, offering pointers whenever she could. It seemed that Vision just wasn't made for the culinary arts. And that was just fine-no one should be able to do everything, not even an omnipotent android. For his part, Vision didn't mind; he just chuckled at every cooking attempt that went horribly wrong and got up again the next day determined to try again-and butcher a new food while he was at it.

She admired the way he never became ruffled or lost his cool-and how he was willing to do something because he liked doing it, not because he was good at it. He put one hundred percent effort into every dish he made, even if it came out crooked, lopsided, or smelling like tree mold-and that, in her opinion was something to be proud of. And she supposed she did like his cooking in her own way, even more than she liked Natasha's perfectly crafted creme brulee. Each dish Vision made was created with a genuine passion, which was more than she could say for anyone else (including herself), who just cooked because they had to.

Just so long as she didn't have to finish it.

~A~

That Look He Gets When He's Trying to Understand Human Emotions

Wanda often liked to say she was an artist-not a very good one, but she was known to take an old sketchbook out from time to time and doodle the first thing that popped into her head. She was used to analyzing faces: how the tilt of a pair of eyebrows could denote fear or anger, how the lines in a forehead could symbolize inner anxiety. The way Natasha always cocked one eyebrow, like she was always confident she'd come out of life on top. Sam's effervescent and bubbly smile that hid the sadness underneath. Steven's deliberately calming nature that seemed to calm everyone except himself.

And then there was Vision's 'humanity look', as she liked to call it. It always looked the same; his eyebrows would tilt just slightly in confusion, his eyes would narrow as he called upon his mental databases, and his mouth would purse just slightly at the corners in minute concentration-like he was doing everything in his power to understand his new reality. It was an adorable look, really-and as the days wore on she began to see it more and more because she happened to be more in tune with it. It helped her understand when he was confused, typically-sometimes he would take off on a tangency of self reliance and would refuse to ask clarifying questions, even if he really needed them.

And somehow, that just made him more endearing.

She drew him sometimes, in the comfort and privacy of her room (all the furniture was from IKEA; she and Steve had a hell of a bonding session trying to put it all together without strangling each other in the process), starting from the curve of his temple and ending at the set of his jaw, trying to capture the way his eyes shone with intelligence or how his very aura seemed to emit compassion. She filled page upon page in her sketchbook with him-and then hid that sketchbook every morning so no one would ask awkward questions. She wondered how an android, made of vibranium and synthetic tissue, could look so...real. And even attractive, in his own way.

Whenever she saw that look, she always tried to explain things in a way that (hopefully) made it seem like she wasn't explaining it at all so he wouldn't feel embarrassed. She knew he appreciated it; even though he never said anything explicitly, because that wasn't his way, he always gave her little smiles or nods of acknowledgment-another inside joke held between them that the others couldn't quite figure out, no matter how hard they tried. And eventually, they realized they didn't want to.

~A~

He's Always Up at 2 in the Morning

The first time she had nightmares he calmed her with tea. And that wasn't the last time.

At first the nightmares came thick and fast-every day or two-and she would wake every night like clockwork with hot tears streaming down her face and legs aching where she'd subconsciously twisted them in her blankets. She wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, terrified that if she did she would again see Pietro's face dancing across her eyelids. And she knew that it would break her, every single time.

Vision was always waiting for her when she finally dragged herself out of bed in a sorry state, hair matted and blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Invariably, he always made her tea or warm milk; sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn't. If she wanted to rant, he would listen; on the worst nights, the ones where her throat still ached from crying, he would let her lean against his shoulder until she felt comforted enough to drink something. Sometimes they read books together and sometimes they watched the home shopping network (they tried to order a couple things once, mostly as jokes, until Steve found out and prohibited impulse buying after receiving the 'Perfect Hamburger Flipper'). Sometimes they didn't watch anything-just sat in a darkened room and stared at the empty television screen until the sky outside turned light or she fell asleep in his lap or both. Somehow there was never anything awkward between them; she knew he would keep her secrets and he knew she would keep his. They were the closest of companions and the best of friends; they owned the nights, free from judgement and societal norms.

And she knew she wasn't the only one he'd helped after an especially hard night-every so often, on the good nights, she would sometimes wake up in the morning to see an empty mug in the sink or someone asleep on the couch-victim to the android's careful minstrations. But for the most part, the mornings were theirs.

She never thought she'd find someone who would be able to chase the nightmares away like Pietro had done so effortlessly, banishing even the worst with a soft lullaby and a few kind words. Vision's way was different, to be sure-but she found he was able to comfort her as effectively as her brother ever had.

When the morning did come she never thanked him, even though he prevented her from dreading closing her eyes and letting the nightmares take her. It didn't seem right, somehow-the nightmares, late night movies, and warm tea belonged to the nights, and nothing seemed quite as real in the morning light. And somehow, she knew that she didn't need to. Somehow, she got the feeling he already knew how much he did for her-and he didn't mind at all.

~A~

He Doubts His Own Humanity-Even Though He Acts More Human than Most of the Other People She Knows

Even as the months slipped past-three, six, nine-Vision never counted himself as part of the team. Sure, he gave interviews, signed autographs, and took group pictures with his usual easygoing smile-but Wanda knew he didn't really feel like he belonged. He always hung back, spoke quietly, and tended to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

In fact, she only ever felt like she really got to know him-the real him-when they were alone, reading or going for walks or just staying up late in the night talking about anything and everything. Only then did he ever let his guard down and his easy smile came more readily. Once she even asked him why-why he was so hesitant to mark himself as a part of the group, even though everyone knew he was a valued member of the team.

He just smiled at her almost sadly. "I'm not human, Wanda. I do not think and feel the way you and the others do. I did not...grow up, per say. Yes, I am an Avenger-but I don't believe the world will ever see me as more than that, because there is nothing else to me. I am here to protect humanity, not to interact with it." He said it matter of factly, like it didn't matter to him-though she knew it had to, far more than he was letting on. It was perhaps one of the saddest declarations Wanda had ever heard because she knew it was so completely and totally false.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, bringing her knees up to her chest so she could have a better look at both Vision and the toenails she was meticulously painting a sullen shade of black. "Yes, you're made out of vibranium and synthetic tissue-but does that really mean you're not human?" She shook her head. "Vizh, I haven't lived very long but I spent most of the last decade living on the streets. I've seen...people in a light most don't usually see them. I've seen the good, the bad, and the downright ugly. I've seen people be kind or mean, tender or cruel. And...from what I've seen, a lot of them fall into the latter categories. I don't know why-maybe they just don't care, or maybe the world has hurt them so many times they simply don't know how to behave otherwise. But whatever the reason, they don't deserve to be called humanity-because if that's all humanity is, what is there worth fighting for?

"But Vizh, you're a different story. You're so kind, so good...why does it matter that you're synthetic? Does flesh really make humanity? I don't think so-I believe humanity is what you have inside of you, the actions you make and the things you feel. And if that's true, you're just as human as any of us. You are just as capable as anyone else here of happiness and sadness, pain and passion. Maybe you haven't experienced all of those emotions yet, but you're willing to try-and I know that someday you will. You want to understand. You're not afraid of being hurt. You own up to your mistakes and your misunderstandings. You care. You're one of the best specimens of humanity I've seen in a long time-and don't let anyone, especially yourself, tell you otherwise." She looked away, suddenly embarrassed as she capped the polish and suddenly wishing she wouldn't have spoken-not something so deep, so personal, and so utterly the truth. "An android with no humanity would never have saved me from Sokovia when everything seemed lost or soothed my nightmares for months."

Vision was silent for a very long time and she bit her lip, wondering if she had said something wrong. Even after all this time, there were still things about him she didn't understand-little pieces of him she had yet to discover. Had she said something wrong? Had she touched a nerve she should have left alone?

Yet when he looked up at her again he was smiling-a genuine smile, the kind that seemed to come from deep inside rather than in response to a joke that was only slightly funny. "Thank you, Wanda." he said, brushing a fingertip across her hand.

That was all. They never said anything else about the matter and they certainly never brought up her impromptu little speech. But even so, things began to change: he no longer bowed out of the spotlight when it came to group interviews and he talked more freely with other members of the team-and the others quickly began to notice it.

"What did you do to him?" Sam asked with a grin as he and Wanda watched the android do the dishes with Rhodey. They were talking about NASCAR, of all things. She didn't know how much Vizh knew about the subject, but they certainly seemed to be having a good time.

"I don't know what you're talking about." she replied, trying her best to look confused. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't give me that. He's been acting differently, you know? Less...robot like."

She just smiled. "He's an android, Sam-but that doesn't mean he's not human." With that she left, leaving him to mull over her words in silence.

Sooner or later, everyone would realize it. It would take time, but one day everyone would see him the way she did-not as an android but as a person with feelings, flaws, and a well developed character. And with each day, week, and month that passed, she knew the rest of the team found an even greater acceptance.

~A~

He's Constantly Watching Over Her

Wanda's mother had always told her she had a guardian angel who was always looking after her and would one day lead her to the Eternal Kingdom when her time on the earthly plane was done-but Wanda supposed she had never really believed it. If she really had an angel looking after her, why would she be orphaned, alone, and living on the streets? Why would she have made the mistake of joining HYDRA, subjecting herself to torture after torture because of the lies of a neo Nazi (and her own foolish desire to rise above her circumstances)? She had Pietro, but that was different. He was her brother-and after Sokovia fell from the sky, she didn't even have him.

Then she found Vision. And while he may not have had a halo or wings, he certainly tried his best to look after her.

For the first few weeks after the battle of Sokovia he followed her around constantly until she just wished he would go away because he reminded her far too much of memories she was trying her best to leave buried. But he never left-he was always there when she went to get coffee, when she went to the screening room to watch a movie, or when she sat out in the back gardens trying to draw the blue, blue sky. In fact, the only time he didn't seem to be following her was when she locked herself in her bedroom to sleep at nights-and even then she sometimes found herself wondering if he ever decided to check on her at ungodly hours.

"He just won't go away." she complained to Laura one night, two weeks after he'd nearly sabotaged their third mission because she'd gotten shot in the arm and he'd abandoned his post to make sure she really was all right. They were making chicken quesadillas for the rest of the family; from the window over the kitchen sink, she could see Clint playing softball with his kids. It made her feel a strange kind of ache; Clint was the happiest she'd ever seen him up here, surrounded by the people he loved without a care in the world. It reminded her of a world she could have had, if Tony Stark had been a different man and made his fortune in something other than weapons and missiles.

Laura grinned. "It sounds like he cares about you."

"I'm sure it qualifies as stalker like behaviour."

"He's just worried about you."

"I know-but there are other people on the team besides me. He never spends time with them-at least, he doesn't follow them around like he's on suicide watch."

Laura's smile vanished as she chopped up some more chicken. "Is he?"

It took a minute for her words to sink in before she hurriedly responded "No, of course not. For the first day or so...maybe, I don't know...but not now." There were times when she'd felt so depressed she could barely think straight, but after Sokovia had fallen she'd never seriously considered taking her own life. If nothing else, Pietro had died too soon and it was her responsibility to live the rest of her life as fully and completely as she could-for the both of them. "I don't think that's it."

Laura fired up the quesadilla maker, arranging chicken and shredded cheddar cheese onto a fresh tortilla. Instantly tantalizing aromas began to waft up from the food and make her mouth water. "I think that maybe, when he chose to save you, he made a conscious choice that you and your well being matter to him. And, since he's probably not well versed in human emotions, he believes this is the only way to do it-by watching over you whenever he can to ensure you're safe and cared for. I wouldn't worry about it, Wanda-I'm sure he doesn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just an act of love, born out of great tenderness."

She sighed. He was like a puppy sometimes-you just couldn't stay angry with him no matter how hard you tried because he didn't know any better and was just trying his best. "I know-but he nearly sabotaged the entire mission!"

"You can talk to him about it-although personally, I think it's sweet. What girl doesn't want a guy who will drop everything just because she's in pain?"

"I guess I'm just the exception." But after that, it didn't bother Wanda so much-and as the months passed, his extreme overprotectiveness slowly began to lessen. In a way, she found it almost endearing-especially when Steve had a long talk with him about mission behaviour, even in the case of medical emergencies. Their captain also had the idea of pairing them up whenever possible-not only did their powers complement each other but Vision could protect her while still completing their mission objectives. And Wanda would be the first to admit that her hand to hand combat skills could use a little work, so it worked out well for them both.

Yes, he acted like a puppy sometimes-but he was her puppy and her responsibility. She looked out for him just as much as he did for her-though not because she worried he would get shot or stabbed. She worried about his too trusting nature and his desire to believe the best about people no matter what; she wanted to protect him from the hard world as much as she could, but failing that she would do her best to ensure he never felt betrayal or got hurt emotionally.

They worked well together. They were an unstoppable team. And she was just fine with that-as long as he didn't try too hard to be her prince in shining armor.

~A~

He Inexplicably Understands Her Better than Anyone Else

When she just wanted to die, he knew to rescue her.

Whenever she got so frustrated in training she wanted to walk way, he was the one who convinced her to stay and try again until she eventually succeeded.

When she woke screaming from nightmares, he knew just what to say-and when to stay silent-to make her feel better.

When he listened to her play guitar, he knew to give her his full attention.

When the panic attacks came, he was the only one she allowed to come near her because he was the only one she wasn't afraid of hurting.

He always understood the best way to take care of her, even when she didn't understand it herself. And he would follow through, whatever it took to make her feel better.

When she lost control in Lagos, when the dust had settled and everyone reassured her half a dozen times each that it wasn't her fault but the people they passed on the streets still shot her disapproving, distrustful glances, he was, instinctively, the first one he called-locking herself into a cabin on the Quinjet and dialling his number so fast her fingers shook. He remained silent when she talked about it, talked about how she'd just killed dozens of innocents. How she'd thought she was better than that. How she'd thought she could be something more than just a monster-but here she was, with the blood of innocent men, women, and even children caking her hands. He'd comforted her; in his calm and reassuring voice, he'd reaffirmed what everyone else said-that she wasn't a monster and Crossbones had the victim's blood on his hands, not her. But somehow, coming from him it mattered more. It helped her breathe a little bit easier, to know that he didn't hate her (she didn't think she could have borne that on top of everything else) even though the rest of the world did.

When she came home, so exhausted she could barely stand because the nightmares had been so bad the night before she'd brewed pot after pot of coffee to keep herself awake-and she wasn't the only one-he knew to hold her for hours while she cried, crying out all of her fear, doubt, and desperation until she felt so numb she couldn't even feel the way her chest was aching from her sobs. And he still held her after that, until she fell asleep in his lap and awoke to find herself back in her own bed tucked in like a toddler. There was a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the nightstand, only slightly burnt around the edges, a cold glass of milk, and a note that read Batch 14. She laughed so hard she ended up crying again. Only he could make her laugh during one of the worst moments of her entire life. Only he knew her well enough.

And when the panic attacks came later that week, as she'd known they would, he knew what kind of pizza to order (pepperoni with extra basil) and what movie to sync (Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope; she loved The Force Awakens but when she was already upset the nostalgia was likely to do her in completely) before she even had to tell him. He helped her through everything-interviews, terrible newscasts and editorials, nightmares, and more panic attacks than she could count. He never left and he never gave up.

She'd never told him one of her favorite comfort foods was straight up whipped cream on a plate. She'd never told him that she read romantic novels when she was feeling out of control and needed to calm down. She'd never told him that a four hour conversation with Clint over Skype could help her more than an entire bottle of antidepressants.

Inexplicably, he just knew.

~A~

He Really, Really Tries To Do the Right Thing

She knew he did it with the best of intentions. Really, she did. But that still didn't change the betrayal she felt when she realized that he was actually following Tony Stark's orders and keeping her prisoner in her own house.

What do you want? she'd asked him, wondering for the first time where his loyalties lay. She knew he was Tony's creation of course, but that he'd always been his own person. He had his own priorities, and somehow she didn't feel like she was betraying her brother's memory by liking him. But then something like this happened-it didn't surprise her that Tony would want her locked up, because God forbid she blew up half the grocery store getting paprika and he had to fill out some paperwork. To have Vision go along with it...to willingly incarcerate her, even though he knew the last thing she wanted was to remain like a princess locked in her tower and unable to interact with the increasingly patronizing world around her…

For the world to see you as I do.

She'd seen the conflict in his eyes: trying to reconcile the desire to protect people with that age old desire to protect her. He'd done what he could; he couldn't be expected to know any better.

And yet she still locked herself in her room and refused to come out. Three times a day she would go down to the kitchen to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner-or he would bring them up to her-but other than that she stayed where she was, reading, watching television, and letting her own guilt slowly eat her alive.

Vision never interfered. For the first time, she almost wished he would. But she wouldn't talk to him so he wouldn't talk to her, probably because he wanted to give her space in case she really did hate him.

She didn't hate him. She was just confused, scared, and feeling more childlike than she had in years. She wanted to help Steve, from what news filtered in from the outside world (he and Sam were fugitives from the law. Because of course they were. Why not?) but she didn't want to risk hurting Vision. She knew if worse came to worst she could probably sneak out-but she didn't want to risk ruining whatever relationship they had.

He was just trying to do the right thing. He was trying to protect the world and, loathe as he was to admit it, trying to protect her.

That didn't stop her from picking Clint over him.

And yet her heart broke when she watched him go crashing down through layer upon layer of reinforced steel, though she knew it wouldn't hurt him. Her best friend, her closest confidante, the person who was more than either of those things and yet both of them at the same time…

But Clint and Steve needed her too.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

He had done what he saw as the right thing. And now it was her turn to make the same choice. Don't you see? I had to. You want to protect me-but I want to protect them. And they need me, now more than ever. But I'm sorry, I really am. And...I hope one day you can forgive me.

I know you were only doing the right thing.

~A~

She Needs Him More Than He Needs Her

She loves him.

She couldn't see it before-or maybe she always could but was just too afraid to admit it. Maybe she thought it was too ridiculous, that an android and a human couldn't possibly be in love. Maybe there hadn't been time to think about it, in between saving the world and grieving her brother and settling into her new home. But now she knows it-and she's more confident about it than she's been about anything else in a very long time. She loves him-not like the childish crushes she had on actors and cute boys when she was younger, but real love-the kind that keeps you up at night and feel so dangerous, real, and good that you can't believe it really exists.

He has captured her heart, completely and totally, without even realizing it.

She loves him.

She loves him.

It's a terrifying thought-especially because she knows he will never love her back, at least not the way she loves him. How can he? He's an android with the power to phase through walls and adjust his density-what need does he have for someone like her, someone who's so broken it will take years to put together all the pieces? Someone who maybe can't be loved, after everything she's done-though Scott, Natasha, Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Clint would be happy to tell her otherwise.

She wishes they would tell her that she's lying about this too. But they don't; they're too smart for that.

Natasha says she's always known it, ever since the Battle of Sokovia. Steve gives her a sad smile-not because he doesn't believe her but because Vision is miles away and she'll probably never see him again. Clint offers what advice he can about dating, knowing that she really hasn't ever dated before. Bucky, Scott, and Sam just offer her congratulations (Sam asks how she finally figured it out) and wish her good luck because apparently love is a bitch. Worth it, but still a bitch. Which doesn't really make her any more confident.

She can remember the exact moment she realized she loved him-during the airport battle, when she was holding up the tower he knocked over and Rhodey hit her with those sonic air blasts that had felt like her brain was tearing itself apart. She'd let the tower fall-briefly hoping Steve and Bucky had been fast enough-and fallen to the ground, screaming in pain because it hurt it hurt it hurt...And then he was there, picking her up off the hard ground and holding her close and suddenly everything seemed just a little bit better even though things were falling apart at the seams. Her saviour-again and again when she didn't deserve to be saved.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."

It was almost frightening how much she wanted to kiss him at that moment. He didn't hate her for what she'd done; he never had. And even though the moment was inappropriate and it was wholly and entirely inopportune, she just wanted to know what it felt to feel his lips on hers and see if he felt the same way she did. But then Rhodey had fallen out of the sky and everything had gone to hell.

They were currently in Wakanda, under the asylum of the newly crowned King T'Challa. The King was nice enough, Wanda supposed; she hadn't really had much of a chance to get to know him yet but she expected she would, seeing that they were going to be staying here for the foreseeable future. They hadn't heard a word from Tony, Rhodey, or Vizh-and maybe that was for the best. On their first night here, Steve had told them how the Winter Soldier had murdered Tony's parents; she guessed that Tony wasn't feeling very hospitable with any of them at the moment. But she did miss Vision.

She missed everything about him-there was no one to comfort her when she woke up from the nightmares, no one to ask her to interpret human nature, no one to read with her until she was so tired she couldn't help but fall asleep. He was her best friend, and she might as well have lost him forever.

Steve liked to say these things had a funny way of working out, but she wasn't sure she believed him-at least not about this. Vision was lost to her-and she hadn't realized what she'd had until it was too late. The sooner she got over it-over him-the better. As Natasha liked to say, there were other fish in the sea.

But no Vizh. She knew that for sure.

Maybe it didn't matter-not that he was never coming back, not that he would never love her as anything more than a friend. After all, it wasn't as if it had all been for nothing-she was a different person because she'd met him, a better person. She saw the beauty in the little things and she questioned life-why people were like they were, why things had to be the way they had always been. She was smarter, better, stronger-a different person that she hadn't been before he'd rescued her.

She owed him so much more than she could ever pay back, more than she could even describe. Yes, she missed him-but maybe that was what she deserved. Sooner or later, she lost everything she cared about-why shouldn't Vision be just another casualty?

She hoped he was happy without her to care for. Someday, she would move on and she'd be happy too.

She would never forget him though-not the android who had taken a chance on a broken girl and done everything in his power to build her back up. Who had shone her that there was still life worth living, even without her brother. Who had been there for her time and time again.

Who had proved to her that just because he was synthetic didn't mean he wasn't human-and her past didn't need to define her future.

~A~

But Somehow They Complete Each Other

It's her birthday again.

It's been a year since what the world has been jokingly calling 'the Superhero Civil War', a year spent in Wakanda with the closest thing to a family she has. She never thought she'd be able to really fit in-but the other members of Team Cap have stepped up to the plate admirably. She knows each of them better than she did before-especially Scott and Bucky, who she didn't know at all.

But she still thinks about Vision every now and then, when the night is dark and she can't sleep. She thinks about him and she wonders what could have happened, what they could have become if they'd only had time. In the morning it's gone-she's too busy during the day to spare many thoughts for him-but he's always there, resting on the outskirts of her mind and scouring himself onto her heart. She still loves him, even after all this time. Distance hasn't changed that.

She thinks, briefly, that he should be here with her on her twenty third birthday. After all, she wouldn't be celebrating it if he hadn't saved her.

Just then, the door to her makeshift bedroom opened and Scott poked his head in. He was trying to keep a straight face but his eyes were practically dancing with excitement. "Happy birthday, Wanda! Hey, there's someone here to see you."

She raised an eyebrow curiously, wondering who he meant. There was no one she knew who wasn't already in the Wakandan compound. "Thank you-but what do you mean? Who's here?"

His eyes were still dancing. "Come on. He's waiting in the front parlor."

She rushed to follow him, heart already beating out of her chest in spite of herself and already beginning to hope-even with that one small sentence. He….?

~A~

She practically flew downstairs, heart pounding, head spinning, feeling hot and cold and wonderful all at the same time. What if he was here-what if he wasn't? Somehow she knew, even before they skidded to a stop outside the parlor and Scott pushed open the door, exactly who she was going to see inside.

He hadn't changed in a year. He still wore the same suit coat, had the same tiny furrow between his eyebrows, and gave her the same irresistible smile he'd always had as she skidded to a stop in the doorway and he said "Hello, Wanda. It's so nice to see you again." There was a slight tremor in his voice that she'd never heard there before-Vizh wasn't really one to get nervous, about anything really, but he sounded nervous now. Why?

For a minute she couldn't breathe-or do anything else, for that matter. She felt as if she'd stopped moving or even thinking because this was so...odd. How could he be here, of all places? And then her rational brain caught up to her and decided it didn't matter, propelling her forward and into his arms. At first she didn't say anything, just hugged him as tightly as she could-worried that if she let go, even for a second, he'd disappear again forever. Maybe this was just a weird dream; maybe she hadn't woken up yet. All of those options made more sense than the one staring her in the face. "Vizh." It was just one word, but she let it convey everything she felt for him in one word, one gesture. She could only hope he felt the same way. "I've missed you."

"And I have missed you." he replied, gently releasing her and looking her over appraisingly as if making sure she was still in one piece.

Scott cleared his throat, letting them both know he was still in the room. "I think I'll just let you two have a little alone time, okay?" He was already halfway out the door before he finished with "Just call out if you need anything!"

"Who is he?" Vision asked, confusion wrinkling his brow.

She sighed. "That's Scott. She didn't explain further; there was too much else to say in too little time. "How did you get here?"

"I mentioned to Sam on a secure channel that I was hoping to see you on your birthday. He told me where you were and I came as soon as I could."

"And no one saw you?"

"I don't exactly fly commercially."

She couldn't help laughing as she imagined how that would go down. "How are Tony and Rhodey?"

"Colonel Rhodes is becoming acquainted with his prosthetic leg quite nicely and Mr. Stark has reconnected with Mrs. Potts. How are you?"

"I'm...good." She still has scars on her back from where the straitjackets was strapped too tightly, but she's found that if she doesn't look at them she can pretend it never happened. "And what about you?"

"I'm...good as well-though I wished to see you, every single day. Wanda, I would have come earlier if I hadn't thought that it would compromise your safety and well being. And...I've never been able to stop thinking about you, much as I have tried."

Her heart was practically beating out of her chest, throwing itself against her rib cage was such force it was a wonder she wasn't covered in bruises. "Me too-and believe me, I've tried to move on. I thought you hated me. I thought, after what happened in the base...I thought you couldn't see me, or that you didn't want to-"

His words, when he interrupted, held surprising vehemence. "I could never hate you, Wanda. Never."

She gradually became aware of how close they were standing, toe to toe, his hand still lingering on her forearm. "You know, I really didn't mean to push you that far down-"

"It's all right. I understand. You were doing what you felt was right-and I was wrong to intern you. Although I believed I was keeping you safe, it was wrong of me and I can't tell you enough how sorry I am-not just about that but that things had to end the way they did. Perhaps there is a way I can make it up to you?"

"You don't need to-"

"I would like to stay here, in Wakanda, with you and the others. King T'Challa has already granted me permission, as has Captain Rogers...but I wished to get your input before I made any decisions."

It floored her. "Vizh, you don't need to apologize for anything. I appreciate that you were willing to protect me at all-even though I didn't want you to. And...I would be honored if you would stay here. You've already done so much for me, been there for me so many times I can't repay you for-"

"That is what friends do for each other, isn't it? You helped me learn how to be human and gave me reassurance when I doubted-there is nothing to repay." He cleared his throat again, looking almost uncomfortable as he added "Happy birthday, Wanda."

She knew what he was going to do the split second before he leaned down and kissed her, before the world as she knew it dissolved into nothing more than skin, lips, and pure uninterrupted bliss-the way his hand moved up to cup the back of her neck gently and tenderly, just like everything else he did. Unlike every time she'd imagined this moment-a thousand times over the past year, awake and asleep, in dreams and daydreams-his lips were warm, like a regular human's, instead of the cold she expected. Then again, he seemed to be practically humming with energy and warmth-a warmth that felt so human and so right that she couldn't believe his skin was vibranium.

There was no rhyme or reason to any of it but she didn't care because she was drowning, into the kiss, into him, into a thousand different realities she'd shut away that were now wondrously possible. And she loved him, she loved him more than she'd ever loved any other boy, this man who knew her and understood her better than anyone else she knew, who did whatever had to be done to keep her safe even if it included disregarding his own safety, and was always there for her no matter what with no judgments. She loved him she loved him she loved and she couldn't believe she hadn't realized it sooner, couldn't believe she had almost let him slip through her fingers…

"Okay...probably should have knocked first."

They broke apart so fast she slipped on the wooden floor and would have fallen if Vision hadn't reached out fluidly and caught her easily. Scott stood in the doorway, looking both gleeful and respectfully embarrassed. "Hey, there's birthday cake in the kitchen if you guys want some." he added, making himself scarce as soon as he could.

For a moment they just stared at each other, caught up in the memory, looking around tentatively as if wondering whether or not they'd ruined everything.

"That was nice." Wanda said, getting her bearings first. "Probably the best birthday present I've gotten all day."

His smile was all honey and sugar when he said "Happy birthday, Wanda." and held her close one last time before they went to see whether Sam had gone ahead and cut the cake because he got tired of waiting for them.

The words I love you hung unspoken between them, hovering in the air like a silent promise.

~A~

Despite what Wanda may have said, Vision didn't think he'd ever felt as human as he did when he was kissing her, or thinking about kissing her or thinking about loving her in general. Never before had his heart pounded so rapidly or his head spun so quickly; never before had he felt such a profound sense of relief that the universe had seen fit to give him another chance.

This time, he wasn't going to waste it.

He would sneak glances at her every so often over the top of his piece of cake, watching as she laughed and joked with Steve and Bucky about someone they'd met while on the run. She looked radiant with happiness, brown hair cascading down her back and eyes dancing. She was so beautiful, anyone could see that-and she was his. She loved him and he loved her. And suddenly that made everything worth it-every restless night, every time he'd thought he'd lost her forever because he was too afraid, to tell her he loved her. Somehow, inexplicably, things had worked out.

Now he met her eyes, trying to get her attention without drawing too much attention to them-he was sure the others knew what he was feeling (perhaps they'd known for a long time) but they were too polite to say anything. She grinned and came to sit next to him; for the first time, he realized there was a trace of frosting under her eye. "Hello."

"Hello." he replied, carefully wiping the frosting away with one finger. He didn't give himself time to think or reconsider before he added. "I love you. I couldn't tell you before, but…"

"I know." she replied, filling in their silence before it could get awkward. "And I love you too."

They sat there together for a long time with their hands entwined, not caring who saw them. The world would keep on spinning, that was a given; but they had each other. And that made it all right, no matter what happened.

They completed each other. They were each other's humanities, bringing light, life, and hope in a world that too often held nothing but broken dreams and cracked destinies.

He couldn't believe he hadn't figured it out sooner.

~A~

The road to love is almost never quick, nor is it easy. More often than not it's filled with starts and stops, detours, u turns, and shortcuts that often turn out to be more trouble than they're worth. But eventually it works out-maybe things don't fall into place right away, maybe it doesn't happen overnight, but if it's meant to be it eventually finds a way.

Even with Avengers, who were already plenty busy in their own rights, things weren't straightforward. Wanda and Vision didn't fall in love right away, nor did they really realize it was happening until it was nearly gone. But love is love, and love demands to be heard and felt.

They weren't perfect-one was too innocent, the other too scarred; one too naive, the other not willing to trust-but the imperfections made them who they were, and made them closer. It gave them common ground where they otherwise would have had none, paving a way for things that never would have been possible otherwise.

Vision realized that just because he wasn't human, in the barest sense of the word, he didn't have to be an emotionless and indifferent machine. And it taught Wanda that even though she'd been hurt so many times (but never quite broken) she could still be loved and still find the acceptance she'd only ever found with her brother. It didn't happen overnight, but when they finally realized it they wondered why they'd never seen it in the first place.

If they'd been looking, if they could review their first year-from Sokovia to Leipzig and every little moment in between, they'd be able to pick out the days and the memories that stuck with them-a look here, a glance there, maybe a conversation or two. Reasons and justifications for a romance that shouldn't be possible but was somehow all too real.

And after a while, they began to realize they couldn't-and wouldn't want to-imagine it any other way.

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