Hello :) As you can tell, I've finally gotten back to writing Avengers fanfictions-mostly because Captain America: Civil War just came out and gave me plenty of new material to draw from!

So, I've been working on this for probably the last five or six hours because I thought I knew what I was going to do for this story (seriously, I wrote a 5,000 word chapter and everything!) before realizing that I wanted it to go an entirely different route so I had to rewrite everything. I'm not really sure where this came from, just another random plot bunny. I'm not exactly sure how long it's going to be, but this is going to be a fic focused on what happens to the Avengers after the Civil War and how they try to rebuild. There's a lot of Scarlet Vision though, because I ship it a lot-but other characters will be featured as well.

Disclaimer: Marvel owns the Avengers. I don't. Spoilers for Civil War. Of course.

Enjoy!

"What are you doing?"

Wanda looked up, startled, from her perch on her bed where she'd spent the last thirty minutes bent over a book on chord progressions Clint had given her at the same time he'd given her the guitar. "Hopefully it'll give you something to do with your hands that doesn't involve magic." he'd said, almost as if he'd known how much she would take to it immediately. And it had worked; she spent hours bent over the instrument every day, learning first basic notes and then simple chords. She still wasn't very good, but she'd just recently learned how to play the Star Wars main theme-everyone on the New Avengers team absolutely adored Star Wars.

Vision had phased through the wall again and now stood in the center of the room watching her curiously. His head was cocked slightly, like a curious puppy that had found a new scent. She sighed. "Vizh, please use the door next time." One of these days he was going to give her a heart attack from popping in and out so quickly.

"My apologies." he replied, though she got the very distinct feeling he wasn't really sorry about it at all. "I didn't know you were practicing." His eyes played over where her fingers carefully held the guitar's neck, pressing down on the right strings while her other hand strummed across the sound hole to produce a C chord.

"I'm working on a new scale." she replied, pointing it out to him on the page. "It's quite complicated."

"May I hear what you have so far?"

"It's not very good-"

"That's all right. I'm sure I won't be able to tell the difference." She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes; Vision meant well, but at times he could be even more stubborn than Tony Stark himself. He indicated an empty space on the bed next to her. "Do you mind if I sit?"

"If you must-but you'll need to be quiet because I'm trying to concentrate." He obliged, watching as she carefully but deliberately played a C, D, E, F, G, A, and B slowly and carefully before she came back to C again.

"It sounds beautiful." Vision said, forgetting his vow of silence after approximately two minutes.

"Thank you-but it's just chords. Anyone can learn how to do it." She tried to ignore the fact that a warm blush was starting to creep up the back of her neck, grateful that Vision was in a position where he wouldn't be able to see it.

"I'm sure I couldn't."

She saw her chance and ran with it. "Yes you could. In fact, I'll teach you right now. Here." She passed him the guitar and he held it like it was a small child he worried he was going to drop-probably because she'd made it abundantly clear to everyone on the team that the guitar was hers and hers alone and anyone who broke it or even touched it without her consent would have hell to pay.

"Miss Maximoff, I'm not sure this is such a good idea-"

"Of course it is. I'm right here; I'll make sure you don't do anything wrong. And please, call me Wanda." She gently guided his hands so he was holding it the correct way and handed him an extra pick. 'We'll start with some easy notes first...Vizh, you don't need to grip onto the guitar like your life depends on it."
"I'm sorry." He loosened his grasp, but only slightly.

"That's better. We'll start with a C…" Slowly and deliberately, she showed him how to hold the correct string down with one hand and strum with the other. It took him a few minutes to get the hang of it, but he slowly gained confidence the more he did it-and the longer he held the guitar without it breaking. "Very good, Vizh. Now let's try moving on to a D…" They repeated the process over and over for every single note, until Vision could play the C scale forwards and backwards with only a little bit of help. Wanda tried not to notice their proximity; if anyone else on the team happened to walk in, they'd very quickly get the wrong idea. "That's excellent. Good work."

He almost sheepishly handed the instrument back to her. "That was...interesting, but I believe I will leave the guitar playing to you from now on."

"If you'd like to learn...I could give you lessons. I'm not very good myself, but-"

He shook his head. "I wouldn't want to be of any inconvenience. Besides, I like listening to you play things."

Now she was sure the blush extended all the way to her face. "Clint is better."

"I don't think that's true-but perhaps if you played a song for me I could judge you more fairly."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't typically perform songs for people."

"It doesn't need to be long." He looked so earnest that she didn't know how she could refuse.

Reluctantly, she sighed and pulled out the folder of sheet music she'd either downloaded off the Internet or bought at the music store in Syracuse and began riffling through the pages for something she could play nearly by heart. Eventually she narrowed it down to two songs: a Dashboard Confessional she really enjoyed and her beloved Star Wars-the hardest piece she'd mastered to date. And then she saw the piece of paper stuck to the back of it, for a song she'd learned so long ago she'd nearly forgotten about it. "What about this one?" she asked, grabbing the offending sheet and looking it over carefully. The words Sokovian Lullaby stared up at her from the top of the page; the same song her mother had sang to her and Pietro when they were both children and still got afraid of the dark. Vision nodded appreciatively, she took a minute to steady herself, and she began.

The song itself wasn't long or complicated but she played it with as much emotion as she could, trying to inject it with all the tenderness and gentleness her mother's voice had been filled with every time she sang it. She tried to pretend she really was back home, cuddled underneath her white duvet with her mother in the rocking chair next to her and Pietro sound asleep in the bed on the other side of the room; by the time she finished, she had tears in her eyes.

"That is a lovely song." Vision said, handing her one of the many handkerchiefs he seemed to keep inside the pockets of his vest. "You play it very well."

"Thank you." she replied. "It's nothing, really; it just reminds me of home. I play it how my mother used to sing it."

"She sounds like a very good woman then."

"She really was." The very best.

Vision looked out the window, over the numerous fields and meadows that framed the New Avengers facility and up at the blue sky beyond. "I don't have a mother. I don't believe I know how it feels to be loved in that manner."

"It's not something that is easy to explain. The love of a parent...That kind of love is a pure, selfless kind of love where you know you will always be loved, no matter what mistakes you make. Once you've had it and you don't have it anymore, you definitely feel its absence." It had been a while since she'd thought about her parents, though she still missed them-even though it had been over a decade since their deaths.

He nodded. "I am sorry if this is hard for you to talk about. I should not have brought it up."

"It's not your fault. You don't need to blame yourself." She glanced at the clock; they'd been at it for almost an hour and a half. "We should take a break. The others are going to wonder where we are." With the utmost care she put the guitar away in its usual spot, tucking the music back under her mattress.

She was almost out the door when Vision spoke again. "Thank you for the lesson, Wanda. I know I cannot bring back your parents or your brother...but I do know that there are people at this base who care about you. You aren't as alone as you feel."

She had to smile at that. "I know, Vizh. I'm getting there." With that she headed to the stairwell, humming the Sokovian Lullaby with every step she took.

~A~

How had he let this happen?

That was all Vision could think about, as he stood in the center of the Raft's main processing center and watched Clint, Scott, Sam, and Wanda be formally arrested as criminals. How had he let things get this far? Why hadn't he done more? And then there was Colonel Rhodes, who lay practically on death's door-and it was his fault. Taking the shot had been his job, and he'd made a mistake. He'd made a mistake and now his entire world was crumbling down around him.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" one of the guards yelled at Wanda, levelling a loaded rifle straight at her head. Vision was seized with the powerful, almost uncontrolled urge to smash his head into a wall and burn the ashes, pick her up, and carry her as far away from here and the rest of the Avengers as he possibly could. They could be together, they could do everything they could to live normal lives...but the fact remained that that was impossible. They'd both chosen sides and he had to stay on that side. He had to stand firm; if she chose to disagree with his side then so be it. They were enemies.

And yet he still found himself nearly phasing through the glass wall in front of him as she was forced into a straitjacket, an electric shock collar placed around her neck to keep her from acting out-like she would even consider doing something like that with her friends in such close proximity-as though she were a violent animal they had to restrain. If only they could see her the way he did, see how vulnerable she was underneath all of her strength, see her kindness. and the way she blamed herself constantly. No matter how they felt about her, it didn't in the slightest compare to how she felt about herself. She thought she was a monster; it was all they saw her as. Was he the only one who knew the truth, that she was anything but a killer?

Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him back. "Not the time." she replied quietly. Her voice was shaking with silent rage as well; he followed her line of sight to where Clint was being forced into a cell. "Not here."

"What they're doing-"

"I know, but making a scene here isn't going to do anything to help your case. It'll just get you thrown in the cell next to her."

"Natasha-"

"I know. Believe me, I know." She watched through the glass with an impassive expression as the others were pushed into cells-even Scott Lang, who wasn't even an Avenger to begin with.

"Why is Mr. Stark not trying to get them out?"

She sighed. "I don't think he cares at the moment-not with Rhodey coming out of surgery in a little while and Cap and Bucky still at large. The prisoners are an afterthought."

"This isn't right."

She shrugged. "They chose to break the law. When you break the law, there are consequences. I can't pretend I like this any more than you do-"

"But this is too harsh. A prison like this is meant to be for top security prisoners, accused of the harshest counts of murder-"

"Isn't that exactly what they're accused of?" She turned to look at him almost curiously. "Why'd you miss that shot?"

He closed his eyes, trying to clear his head. He hadn't meant to, of course not; all he'd wanted to do were short out Falcon's engines, slow him down so Stark could apprehend him. But Wanda had been injured and that had been the most important thing in the world; he'd absolutely had to make sure she was all right. "I'm sorry." he'd said, hoping she knew that he meant more than just Rhodey's attack; that he had tried to control her and had taken his role of protector too far; had let his feeling for her blind him to what she wanted up to the point when she'd had no choice but to attack him.

"I'm sorry too." she'd replied; he hoped that meant they weren't enemies anymore. Maybe they could be friends again.

Of course, that was going to be more complicated now that she was stuck in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean.

"I...got distracted." he said quietly.

"By Maximoff?" She nodded to the girl who was now being forced into a cell of her own-but it was the blankness in her eyes that made him quiver with rage; the expression that said she clearly thought she deserved this, that this was all her fault. That maybe she should have been imprisoned all along and the guards were just doing her a favor.

It was no good lying to Natasha; she knew when you weren't telling the truth even before you realized it yourself. "Yes. She was injured and I went to help her. I was not as alert as I should have been and for that I apologize."

She turned back to the window, something new glimmering in her eye-though for the life of him Vision couldn't tell what it meant. "You love her, don't you?"

The strange word gave him pause. Love? What did love mean? How could he, an android, be in love-especially with a human being? "I...I care for her deeply. But as for love...I don't know. I don't believe I have the capacity for that emotion."

"Why not? You can feel remorse, regret, and happiness-why wouldn't you be able to feel love too?"

"I don't know." Perhaps it was simply that he wished not to feel love; everything he'd heard about it made it seem like a waste of time and more trouble than it was worth. But at the same time, he couldn't dismiss the fact that whenever he saw Wanda his heart seemed to beat differently than it did with anyone else. She made him act different too-more nervous to say the wrong thing, more inclined to do what would make her happy.

"It sucks, doesn't it? That she's a prisoner of the government, I mean?"

He watched as her cell door shut behind her with a bang of finality, locking her into a prison where he could never hope to get her out. "Yes, Natasha. It really is quite terrible."

~A~

He campaigned for a day and a half before he was finally allowed to see her. At first, the government was not at all happy about it but he insisted-and after a while he figured they just got tired of his lobbying. And so he was led into a secure room, with cameras on them at all times and two armed guards at the doors, where he could sit at a table across from Wanda and talk to her for the first time since the battle in Leipzig.

She looked much the worse for wear; although she wasn't wearing the straitjacket her hands were cuffed and her collar was still intact; he could see abrasions on her shoulders through her jumpsuit where the jacket had been too tight. Even at a glance he could tell that she'd lost weight, and her eyes were bloodshot as though she hadn't slept in days. She looked hopeless, as though she was just waiting for someone to decide that they'd had enough of her, put a gun to her head, and pull the trigger. "Vizh…" Her voice trailed off and lapsed into a coughing fit, while Vision gestured for one of the guards to get her some water. Mercifully, he complied.

He wanted to reach across the table and take her hand but he figured that wouldn't go over well with their escorts and the last thing he wanted to do was to make any of the guards angry. "How are you, Wanda? Do they treat you well?"

"Not as badly as they could." she replied once she'd taken a sip of water. "The others get angrier about the jacket than I do-and it doesn't really hurt that much." She was lying. "How is Rhodey?"

"He's...paralyzed, but he'll live. It was touch and go for a while-but he's going to be okay."

"He just won't be able to be an Avenger."

"I'm not saying that. Mr. Stark is working on some experimental prototypes designed to make the healing process easier for him."

"That's wonderful. And what about Steve and Bucky?"

He couldn't help looking away. "They haven't been seen since Leipzig. Do you have any idea where they may have gone?" She wouldn't meet his eyes so he didn't repeat his question. "Very well then. How are the others doing?"

"Bored. Upset. They hate being here. Then again, I guess this is what we signed up for when we sided with Steve."

"Do you regret it?"

She contemplated that for a moment before shaking her head resolutely. "I suppose sooner or later I knew it would all come down this path. You and Tony sided with the government; how are six rebels supposed to compete with that? But Bucky is innocent-and I knew this would happen, regardless of whether or not I signed the Accords. And who knows? Maybe they're right. Maybe I am dangerous. Maybe I deserve to be here."

"Don't say that. This is Steve's fault, not yours."

"Is it his fault if it was my choice to follow him?" She sighed. "It's nice in a way, to know that I can't hurt anybody. The world is safe from me, and perhaps that's a good thing-I do at least as much harm as I do good."

"Wanda-"

She was just getting started. "What happened in Lagos, all those people that died...their blood is on my hands. I wasn't strong enough. I didn't think fast enough. I caused their deaths. I am a murderer, Vizh-"

"If you hadn't done what you did, the bomb would have exploded on the ground. Steve would have been killed and dozens on the ground would have been seriously injured. Everyone makes mistakes-but you did the very best you could. Wanda. What happened in Lagos was an accident. You're not a killer. You made a mistake, for the right reasons. That's no reason to think that you deserve to be treated like an out of control animal."

"I can't control my powers."

"You're getting much better at it. You're just like me; we both have powers and we're both not sure exactly what we can do with them. We need to test and experiment, to find our own limitations...step by step. And we will accomplish this. We will find out what the Mind Stone is capable of. And until that day...we'll just do the best we can." It was all they could do, in any case.

Just then, one of the guards held up one hand. Five minutes left. Wanda bit her lip. "I don't know exactly how you convinced them to let you talk to me but however you did it...I'm grateful. It's good to know that we're not alone. And...I'm very sorry I controlled the stone, back at the base."

He flinched. He'd never really forgotten how it had felt to not be in control of his own body, to go crashing through floor after floor because his density was altering itself without his knowledge or consent. He'd never forget that helpless feeling he'd resolved he would never have again. But he could understand why she'd done it at least; and he knew he was not blameless. "You had a reason to do it. It was your duty to stand up for what you believed in-and you performed admirably. There is nothing to apologize for, Wanda. I just want to know if you can ever see me the same way again...if we can ever be friends again, when this has all blown over."

She reached out and grabbed his hand, grasping it tightly like a landline. "Of course. Someday, Vizh. Someday soon."

That was all he could ask for. Glancing back at the guards, he lowered his voice-determined to make their last couple of minutes together count. "Do not lose hope, Wanda." He began to hum Sokovian Lullaby under his breath, waiting for her reaction. At first she looked stricken and confused-but then, ever so slowly, the shadow of a smile crossed over her features like a sunbeam peering through a raincloud. "I will always be with you, no matter what."

"Time's up." the guard said, his partner stepping forward to pull Wanda roughly to her feet and lead her away while Vision was left to show himself out. He didn't mind though; he took that one bit of smile as a personal victory, that he had done something right.

~A~

The straitjacket was digging into her back again. Wanda shifted her position slightly on the hard metal cot she was supposed to call a bed and tried to loosen it slightly-but of course, it wouldn't budge. She let out a breath in a soft huff, hoping that would ease the pain.

It was Day Four, by her count. Day Four, and they had still had no word on how long they would be here. Perhaps for another few hours, perhaps forever. No one would tell her anything. No one would let her talk between cells. She was trapped in her own little prison, stranded in her own little world-and she was completely alone.

Well, not alone exactly. Not when she could still wonder if Vision was even now trying to make another attempt to communicate with her.

Suddenly, a rustle of movement outside caught her eye-and as she watched disbelievingly, someone very familiar stepped out of the elevator and surveyed them all critically. "Well, aren't you all a sight for sore eyes?" the man joked, the man who looked like Steve Rogers but couldn't possibly be him because Steve had been missing for days.

Everyone else in their cell block was on their feet, eyes sparkling with excitement but apprehension. Was anyone listening? Were they going to escape?

Steve strode over to Sam's cell first, slid a key card through a slot in the door, and then shook his hand as Sam walked out. "I didn't think you were coming back!" Sam grinned as they moved on to Clint and then to Scott.

Steve grinned. "I'd never abandon my team. Can everyone stand? We only have seven minutes to get out of here before they realize what happened to us."

The door to her cell clicked open and Clint walked in, holding a knife Steve had tossed him. "Hold still. I'm going to do this as carefully as I can." Taking a seat next to her on the bed he cut through her straitjacket as quickly yet carefully as he possibly could, breathing a sigh of relief as it fell to the ground at their feet with a neat slice down the middle. "You okay, kid?"

She couldn't help grinning as she got to her feet, legs shaking for a few seconds from lack of use before she finally got them to cooperate. "Never better."

They joined the others outside, where Steve was leading them towards another door in the wall that Wanda hadn't seen before. He moved with confidence; obviously, he knew exactly what he was doing. "I'm guessing you have a plan?" Sam asked. "And that's why this place isn't full of alarms yet?"

"Yup." Steve replied. "Everything's going to be taken care of-I'm going to get you out of here. And yes, there's someone on the inside scrambling the Raft's cameras right now so we can sneak out of here undetected."

"Who'd you hire?"

He just smiled as they headed up a steep metal staircase that angled up and up and up towards what Wanda could only assume was the top of the building where their getaway vehicle would hopefully be waiting. "Someone you know. Wanda, he wanted me to give you a message."

"What kind of message?" she asked, as they trooped up the stairs and emerged onto the tarmac-where they headed towards a sleek black helicopter parked at the edge of the roof.

It was a stormy day; she almost didn't hear him over the pounding of the waves and the way the rain seemed to lash down at her almost horizontally-their last trial as they all piled into the helicopter and Steve got it airborne in a matter of seconds. "Maybe you can make more sense of it than I can. He said to tell you to remember the Sokovian Lullaby."

With that they gained altitude, letting the prison fade into the distance until it was just a tiny black dot in the middle of a slate grey sea.

A couple of 'missing scenes' for you there. The next chapters will take place post movie.

Review, follow, and favorite! Thanks for reading!