Work Text:
Tony started rambling over the comms before they’d even left the harbor back toward the compound, and he hadn’t yet stopped for more than a few seconds to ask if he still had an audience.
“Oh, shit,” Rhodey deadpanned, “Sorry, man. I’ve had you on mute this whole time.”
“Yeah I got something you can mute up here, buddy.”
“Eugh. I don’t even wanna know what that means,” he chuckled.
“Uh, innuendo. Sexual? I dunno, make up your own metaphor. Unless you were being serious, in which case lemme know where you dropped off, cause you might’ve missed some– nefarious shit, Rhodes. Pepper was shocked when I was telling her about this yesterday.”
Adjusting his combustion thrusters to account for the wind speed, Rhodey clarified, “I’m just playing with you, Tones. I can hear you fine, keep talking.”
Then, in the same breath, he lied,
“I’m still listening.”
As Tony shot back some more playful banter before diving back into his story at the speed of a bullet train, Rhodey began to zone out again, unable to truly devote his attention to the garbled cacophony of words buzzing out of his earpiece.
It wasn’t Tony’s fault; had this been any other day, with any other people, in any other circumstance, Rhodey would’ve been keen on listening to the riveting tale of whatever had happened involving the shared Stark-Potts Keurig machine back at Tony’s Miami house.
Unfortunately, all of that focus was instead being directed toward an increasingly worrying predicament occurring about ten feet to Rhodey’s right.
Barely twenty minutes into their flight back to the compound, Rhodey began to notice Vision being… weird.
Not that it’s particularly uncommon for Vision to be weird, but after being shot out of the sky and paralyzed from the waist down Rhodey has been more than a little vigilant toward the android’s behavior.
At first he started putting his arms out and kicking his legs at random, like he’d lost balance and had to right himself. Then, a few minutes later, Rhodey saw him shudder and dip down in the air before returning to normal flight.
Still yammering, Tony didn't seem to realize anything had happened, but granted – he was flying about twenty feet ahead of them, so he couldn't exactly see.
Using his external cameras for a closer visual, Rhodey observed Vision a bit more closely; he looked tense and tired, face screwed up and squinting like he couldn’t stand the brightness of the sun. ‘Uncomfortable’ came to mind, which felt offputting to even think about. Vision getting uncomfortable was never something that seemed possible in Rhodey’s world.
He didn’t want to assume the worst, but looking at him just made the hair on the back of Rhodey’s neck stand on end, heart skittering in his chest the same way it did every time he started to suspect Tony was relapsing; he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly was wrong other than knowing the vibes were off, but it set his intuition on fire.
Swallowing back the growing lump in his throat, Rhodey once again checked the time, shocked that it had somehow only been ten additional minutes since the last time he’d looked at the clock. Awesome…
Judging by how long it took them to get to the harbor on the flight in, there were probably still hours to go until they reached the compound.
Vision didn’t appear to have hours of flying left in him if the previous thirty minutes of airtime were anything to judge by. Rhodey couldn’t handle it anymore.
He tuned himself back into Tony’s rambling, looking for a good place to cut in through what seemed to be a proposal for a spaghetti takeout dinner: “...and I dunno how everybody else feels, but I’m a marinara guy. So if we did a family style thing, we could make a couple big plates.”
Smiling in spite of his anxiety, Rhodey activated his comm line with a small static noise.
“You know I like alfredo, Tones, c’mon.”
“Oh! Wow, nice of you to join us, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony ribbed him, “I’ve been getting dead air from you two for the past, like, six hours. Thought maybe I got muted.”
Vision had begun to drift in and out of their formation again, unnoticed by Tony but very much noticed by Rhodey.
“Nah, ‘course not. I like whatever you’ve got going on more than whatever’s on the radio right now. Can’t let these flights get boring,” Rhodey chuckled nervously and cleared his throat. “Hey, uh— how long ‘til we get back? You got an estimation?”
“Am I boring you that much? Rhodey, you’re breaking my heart right now–”
Rhodey shook his head and gave a hollow chuckle.
“Just curious, man. I got a season of Sopranos waiting for me back at base, you know that.”
“Right, right. You’re so cute when you lie to me. FRIDAY, answer the man’s question?”
"You should arrive at the Avengers compound in approximately one hour and twenty two minutes, sir."
"There– you heard her," Tony said, "You won’t have to suffer in my presence for too much longer.”
Iron Man’s golden face glinted in the sun as he turned to look over his shoulder, no doubt wearing a shit eating grin under the mask. Rhodey rolled his eyes.
“Keep fishing, I won't bite.”
“Why are you being so cruel to me today? I’m telling Pepper.”
Abruptly, Rhodey was pulled out of the brief reprieve of banter when he noticed Vision drift out of formation with a hand over his eyes.
“Tony, hey–” he started to say, only for Vision to regain his bearings and return to their triangle with some visible effort.
“What’s up, you okay?”
Rhodey’s heart raced as he watched Vision carefully, adjusting his flight several feet to the left to put some distance between them.
“Yeah, I just… I’m getting some feedback in my suit,” he lied, “Anything going on with you two?”
“Huh. That’s weird. Uhhhh…”
Iron Man performed a dainty little twirling maneuver like a swimmer in the air, Tony’s voice crackling through his mic, “Nope. Nada— All fresh and fine up here. How ‘bout you, Autobot? Things looking good in the hood, or you need a piss break?”
Seconds ticked by like small eternities as silence filled the line, both of them waiting for Vision to respond.
“…Hey, Earth to Vision, this is Houston! Come in Vision…”
Tony’s unconcerned static chortle only made the hair on Rhodey’s arms stand on end, sweat beading up on the back of his neck when they were met with more empty hissing through their speakers.
His display was showing him that Vision’s flight was still unsteady and growing increasingly wobbly; right now he had the heel of his hand pressed up against his eye, half cradling his head as his other arm dangled limp in the air.
“Vision, hey–…” Rhodey cleared his throat, “Talk to us, man. We gotta make sure you’re okay.”
A long pause followed, long enough that it seemed like he wouldn’t answer. Then, abruptly:
“Yes. Apologies, Colonel.”
Vision’s voice sounded uncharacteristically weak, and Rhodey could see his flight had started to falter worse than it had before.
“Wow! Never seen you zone out like that before. How’s it going back there, sunshine, you back from daydream land now?”
Again, the quip was met with silence. Against what would’ve been Rhodey’s better judgement, Tony prodded in the empty air.
“Ookayy, so he’s just ignoring me now. That’s cool, that’s fine. Have it your way! All kids go through a rebellious stage, I get it–”
“Stop talking.”
Both of them were shocked to hear Vision snap, his tone clipped and frustrated. Rhodey looked over to check on him and saw pain written all over his half-hidden face, shoulders hunched and shuddering. Before he could interject that they should stop, Tony stepped over the line like he always did.
“That’s no way to speak to your father, robo-son. I should put you over my knee for that!”
One glance at Vision told Rhodey he either wasn’t amused or, more likely, didn’t hear the joke at all. He was slowing down, and fast; Rhodey quickly overtook him and watched his tracker dot disappear out of range in War Machine’s display.
“Tony, hey–”
“What? I was kidding. You know I was kidding, Vision.”
“Tony! Stop!” Rhodey shouted into the comm, no longer entertained in the slightest.
Iron Man halted suddenly in his flight, cranking to a stop and whipping around. For the first time, Tony seemed to notice what was going on behind him; his shock crackled in short stutters through the speaker. He flew past where Rhodey stopped to hover, joining Vision about fifty meters back.
“Whoa, hey! Hi buddy, what’s going on? We good? We cool?”
Rhodey noticed, not so subtly, Tony was maneuvering Vision to point the Mind Stone in a different direction.
“Sorry, sir. I am unsure– I-I seem to be…” Vision winced and drifted away from Iron Man. He squeezed his eyes shut. His hand went up to his mouth. “I’m going to make a stop here. You two return to the compound, I’ll be with you shortly.”
“Um, no you’re not! We’re in the middle of nowhere–” Tony didn’t get to finish what he was saying. Vision dropped out of the air straight for the ground, and he’d vanished from sight in seconds.
“Well… that just happened,” Rhodey sighed.
“Yeah, what just happened is more like it. Hey Vision!? Where ya’ going, bud? Can’t be ditching us like that with no warning, we talked about this!” There was a pause, and Rhodey heard an irritated sigh slip through the comm. “FRIDAY?”
“Yes, sir?”
“What is happening right now? I’m so confused. Vision, are you still online? FRIDAY, is he still online? Can he hear us?”
"Negative, sir. The Vision appears to have cut out transmissions from reaching him at the moment. They will, however, be recorded into his memory database."
Tony scoffed. "Great, so we got his voicemail. Do we know where he went? Do I have to put out an amber alert?"
"I'm doing a satellite scan to figure out what's under us, sir, but the Vision's coordinates haven't changed. He really has stopped… here."
With just the slightest bit of hesitation, Rhodey opened a private comm channel to Tony's suit. As childish as it felt, he didn't like the idea of Vision being able to hear them talking behind his back, even if it would be in the future.
"Hey, Tones?" Rhodey was almost embarrassed at how nervous he sounded, "I'm not liking this. Vision's being weird. And not just Vision-weird, this is something else."
For a moment, there was static silence on the comm. Then Tony sighed, much more tired than he was earlier. If they weren't in the air right now, Rhodey knew he'd be dragging a frustrated hand down his face.
"Yeah, I was pickin' up on that too. FRIDAY, figure out where we are?"
Rhodey could hear the data being pulled up in Tony's display.
"We're toward the edge of a town called 'Marswood', sir. Population 7,776."
"Great. I'm heading down there."
That sent a surge of anxiety through Rhodey's chest that was strong enough to make him lurch forward.
"Wait!" Slowly, he drifted back as Tony adjusted to face him. "You sure that's a good idea, man?"
Only the tail end of Tony's sigh was caught on the comm this time.
"You said it yourself, Rhodes, something's wrong. Yeah? 'Cause we can both agree that something's wrong."
Rhodey shook his head. "Yeah. Yeah, something's wrong. But- Tony..."
"I just want... I want to fix it. Okay? Let me try and fix this."
It clicked, but that didn't mean Rhodey was happy about it; this wasn't just about whatever was going on with Vision right now. This was about what had been going on with Vision for a while.
His relationship with Tony had taken a serious downhill after the airport tussle. They'd only had one public shouting match to date (about Rhodey’s accident, unsurprisingly), but no one at headquarters missed the falseness in Vision's polite attitude toward Tony on a day to day basis, and they certainly didn't miss Tony's constant attempts to forcibly reinstate good terms every time things got a little tense.
And of course, the more recent development; Vision had started disappearing from the compound for days on end with no way of tracing him.
It only took a short conversation in the kitchen and the promise that Tony wouldn't hear about it for him to confide in Rhodey that he'd been 'traveling abroad' (most likely code for: 'going stir crazy and leaving the compound so I don't kill anyone with the magic gem that sometimes reacts to my emotions').
Of course, Rhodey wasn't an idiot. He noticed the way Vision's spontaneous little vacations always happened to line up with the latter half of Tony's extended visits to the compound.
"Fine. Yeah. Go ahead," Rhodey finally relented, "I know you love your olive branches."
"I do! I really do. You know me so well."
If Tony hadn't sounded so desperately thankful under his joking tone, Rhodey probably would've said something mean just to mess with him.
"Okay,” Tony said, “Anything goes wrong, you're gonna be the first to hear about it. Promise. We're not doing the rogue robot thing again."
"You better call Homeland Security if anything goes wrong. Don't put this on me. And you're still making that spaghetti tonight, remember?" Rhodey really only said it to try and alleviate his own anxiety, but it was good to hear Tony huff out a laugh as well. "Good luck. See you back at base."
"Not gonna say 'I love you'? You wound me, Colonel Rhodes."
"Stop letting your robot kids run loose, maybe you can earn an 'I love you'."
Tony landed near a barn, kicking mud off the thrusters as he deactivated the suit and went off searching for the location ping he’d been given.
It took him a few minutes to find the road, during which time he struggled not to allow his train of thought to fly off with the idea of incorporating his new nanotechnology into the Iron Man armor.
The bulky armored gloves have, on occasion, stalled him for a few seconds more than he’d like when deactivating the suit via wristband control, and for all the farts that come out of the man’s mouth, after seeing that Ant Man suit in action, Tony’s started to think Hank Pym might’ve been onto something in terms of functionality.
He passed onto a main road before he knew it, though he did have to stop and check to be sure he hadn't overshot or strayed away from his destination.
“Friday, tell me I’m closer than it looks?”
“You’re just around the corner, sir.”
“Great…” Tony mumbled, blocking the sun with his hand as he looked ahead at the run down gas station. A tractor trailer overrun by mossy growth sat in the treeline to the left. To the right stretched the length of a one-story motel. Opposite the gas station was a shack sporting a ‘Restaurant & BAR!’ sign.
This little oasis had to be the only thing for miles.
“Oh, I’m a gambling man…” Tony sang to himself, choosing the restaurant and bar to search first.
Once he’d indulged in a morning sip, he questioned the bartender to see if a magenta robot had passed through recently. Both she and the motel clerk he checked with afterward denied seeing anything of the sort.
When the gas station attendant also failed to report seeing anyone resembling Vision, Tony began to worry. The location pin was still bouncing around this tiny area, so where had he gone? And how had no one noticed him?
Fortunately Tony figured out a better way to trace his location before he was forced to get poison ivy snooping through the hillbilly woods.
“FRIDAY, scan for any traces of vibranium in the area.”
The gas station bathroom.
“Booyah…”
Tony paused, tilting his head at no one in particular. That was weird – just like Rhodey had been saying. If it had been anyone else, it would've been easy to chalk that up to a bad breakfast or maybe a nasty hangover, but Vision didn't eat or drink.
Actually, come to think of it, Tony wasn't sure if Vision was even capable of producing waste out of food. He didn't have stomach acid or any synthetic equivalent to break it up. All eating did was mess with his processing speeds like alcohol, and Tony was usually pretty good at determining when people were drunk around him.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit worried.
Approaching the gas station once more, Tony picked his pace up to a light jog when he saw the sign for the bathrooms around back. Two doors sat on either side of the ice cooler where the signs that used to say ‘women’ and ‘men’ had clearly been replaced with sharpie letters reading ‘PUBLIC’ and ‘STAFF’.
He knocked on the public room, then the staff room, and waited in front of the ice cooler listening for a response from both. When none came, he decided to try his luck again.
“Oh, a rambling, gambling man… Hey Vision?" he knocked shave and a haircut for emphasis, "You still alive in there? Or should I call up the Wakandans, have ‘em come strip you for parts?"
His joke was met with silence.
Feeling a little exasperated, Tony went straight for the door handle – locked, obviously. He stepped back and sighed, raising his hand to activate his thrusters as he aimed at the dingy little doorknob. Before he started blasting, though, he stopped.
"Hey, FRIDAY, how much to renovate a gas station bathroom?"
The sound of tinkling calculations filled his ears, and FRIDAY made a sound like she was humming under her breath.
"A full bathroom renovation can cost upwards of fifteen thousand dollars, sir."
"Chump change. Awesome. Send an email to the owner of this joint, I'm giving the place a full Stark makeover as an apology gift for breaking their shit," Tony stepped up and knocked one more time, leaning close on the off-chance the door was just really good at absorbing sound, "Alright, last chance, I'm barging in if you don't answer."
Nothing.
"Have it your way, ex machina," he muttered, stepping back and raising his palm toward the door handle.
He charged up a small blast and grunted as it exploded on the door handle, jerking his arm back painfully. Tony rubbed his shoulder. I'm getting too old for this.
Hoping he wouldn’t have to force open another lock, he shouldered the door open and immediately wrinkled his nose at the distinctly gas station bathroom smell that assaulted him.
And then his heart dropped into his stomach.
Vision was tangled in his cape where he sat, collapsed against the stained toilet with his cheek resting on the seat. His eyes were shut tight, and he was breathing for a change, shakily inhaling and exhaling in a slow, forced pace like he was nauseous.
That wasn't normal. Vision didn't get nauseous. He was built with internal stabilizers that, by all accounts, should prevent him from experiencing anything even close to nausea.
Brushing off the shock as well as he could, Tony pushed the trash can in front of the door as a rudimentary lock, approaching the toilet and crouching down for a better angle.
"Hey, bud, you okay?" he tried to keep his voice gentle, but the hammering of his heart in his ears was making it a little difficult.
Vision made a slight noise that could've been a response, but it certainly wasn't coherent. Tony started taking mental notes at the speed of light, because synthesoid AI or not, incoherence was never exactly a good sign.
"Okay, yep- didn't catch that. Little more annunciation this time, maybe?"
Vision groaned and curled himself further around the toilet – Tony felt a little bad for thinking it, but he couldn't help wondering if he ever looked this pathetic when Pepper would find him drunk off his ass at five in the morning. The first thought that came to his mind was that she should've been nicer to him if he did.
"You get sick while we were in the air? Think this is a hacker?"
Tony's face contorted, and he didn't ask the immediate follow-up question, can you even get hacked? If he could, that would be a nightmare on all fronts.
"Work with me, Vision," he urged, growing more and more nervous as the silence went on, "C'mon. You get hurt in the fight? What's going on? Can't help if you don't tell me what's up, bud, you know that. You wanna give me something to go on?"
"I don't know," Vision finally pushed out.
Alright, success on step one. But that opened up a brand new worry, cutting through him like a knife; now it was confirmed that neither of them knew what was going on. And if they couldn't figure it out, who the hell could!?
(Not to mention the flood of weird concern that filled Tony's chest at the frightened, pained twinge in Vision's voice. It was… different. Parental, maybe? Whatever it was, it was making Tony’s stomach hurt.)
Tony shifted to kneel more comfortably, leaning his elbow on the back of the toilet. For a second, he almost put his hand on Vision's back, but he wasn't quite willing to risk startling a guy who many would consider a super weapon.
"Alright, let's take it back. No rush, no worries, okay?" he hovered his hand by its intended target, "Am I allowed to touch you? Say 'no' if you need to, won't hurt my feelings."
Vision's form, which was usually solid and opaque when he wasn't in a fight, flickered like a hologram as he hissed and tensed up.
"I got it, no touching. Just talk to me, bud. What's going on right now? 'Cause I'm totally lost."
There was a moment of silence before Vision uncomfortably shifted, pressing his forehead against the toilet seat.
“I... was experiencing what I believe to be... vertigo. It began just after we started our route back toward the compound. I was having a... difficult time staying aloft," Vision admitted, voice weak and laced with electronic static. Tony remembered that low-battery type of quality difference from when he first built JARVIS.
He scratched his beard. "Okay. So you're dizzy and pukey. that's it?" when Vision didn't respond, Tony let out a half-sigh, "Y'know, this is scientific territory I've never even thought about getting into with you. I don't know if you can get sick, and if you can, how sick can you get–"
“M- my head,” he muttered.
"Your head? Like... you've got a headache?" Tony was taking mental notes at the speed of light. Bruce would've loved to try and figure this one out with me, a melancholy voice in the back of his head said. "Think something might be wrong with your internal wiring? You got knocked around pretty bad back there, maybe something came loose."
"I- I'm not sure, but it–" Vision winced, turning his hand to press his palm against his forehead, “It hurts. Badly.”
Tony tried to think up what might be going wrong in Vision's head that would give him a headache so bad it made him sick. "Can I take a peek at your eyes? Make sure nothing's going haywire?"
"Of course," Vision said, taking a moment to push himself up. As soon as he opened his eyes, though, he clenched them shut again and buried his face in his arms with a pained yelp. Tony reached out and his hand stopped just short of grabbing Vision’s shoulder.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong, what's going on?" he asked.
"I- I'm sorry. I can't. Not right now. It- it’s too bright in here.”
Tony sighed and crouched back, holding the grimy toilet for balance in spite of how much he hated it. Vision was definitely stronger than he was, because no matter what level of shit he was feeling, there was no way in hell he'd put his face anywhere near this toilet. He was getting diseases looking at it.
"Yep. Okay. It, uh… sounds like you got a migraine. I dunno how, but it sounds like it. Sucks ass, I know that," Tony huffed.
"It hurts," Vision whispered, hand hovering near his face like the pain had grown bad enough that he didn't even want to put pressure on it – Tony realized the pulsing light in the room wasn't coming from the shitty bulbs, but from the stone in Vision's forehead.
That... couldn't be good.
It didn't necessarily mean the stone was the source of the pain, but everyone at the compound knew what carnage was possible when Vision's anxiety levels got too high. They were still fixing the roof helipad from the incident a month ago when he and Tony had argued.
"Why does this keep happening to me?" Vision croaked, and another, fresher wave of anxiety rushed through Tony when he recognized the strained quality in the android's voice as being close to tears.
Vision probably wasn't built with the capability to cry like a person, but it was enough that it made Tony nervous. Crying people were hard to deal with. And a crying Vision could possibly level a city block.
Tony’s head was swimming; he didn't have answers.
He'd need to run tests, analyze data, do research, research, research– And of course it had to be Vision. The one single person Tony had no idea how to help medically, because he's not a human being or a computer– If he were one or the other it wouldn't be a problem – he can take a person to a doctor and he can disassemble a computer – but Vision wasn't either–
And Tony wanted to take care of Vision, but he couldn't, because he doesn't know what's going on and Vision hates him already– he's supposed to take care of everyone and he’s failing again–
He’s failing again–
“Sir, I know we’re in the middle of something–”
FRIDAY’s voice pulled him back to reality, and Tony fought to get his rapidly spiraling thoughts under control.
“Your heart rate has elevated into the ‘danger zone’, and you’re perspiring. Should I call someone on your list?”
"Uh– no! No, FRIDAY, we're good. I'm good," he silently cursed the wavering in his voice.
Tony took a deep breath. Then another, then another. Vision winced and curled tighter against the toilet with a groan.
"Alright, uh–” Tony swallowed and kept focusing on his breathing. His mouth was still dry and his palms were clammy. “Alright. We- we gotta get you back to the lab, bud. Think you can get up and walk?"
Much to Tony's dismay, Vision responded by slipping off the side of the toilet and curling into a ball on the floor. His form flickered again, this time accentuated by a full body shudder. Weakly, he fumbled with his cape and tugged it up over his head.
"Okay. Yep. Awesome," Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, "Just lay on the disgusting, filthy goddamn floor. FRIDAY, how far are we from HQ?"
"Fastest flight time would be approximately one hour twenty one minutes, sir."
Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Great. Good," he dragged his hand down his face before sitting forward, "Hey, Vision? We've got an hour long flight back to HQ. Make it through that, we'll get you in the lab, figure this shit out stat, get you back on your feet. Yeah? That sound good?"
When he didn't get a response, Tony fought the urge to sigh.
“Okay. Okay. Fine. FRIDAY, call… call Happy, have him drive up here and get us.”
“Sir, that would take nearly six hours–”
“Yeah, I know, I know. It’s a long drive, whatever. He can handle it. Vision, think you can make it to the motel right across the street? That way we’re not growing mold by the time Happy gets here?”
In the ensuing silence, Tony could feel his heart breaking a little bit.
"Look... I get it. Okay? I get it. You feel like shit, you don't wanna move- I get it. Just... just do your best, okay? You’re gonna feel better if you’re in bed."
There was a tense moment of silence where Vision's hands curled into fists and his body shuddered. Then slowly, he pulled his cape away and nodded, painfully pushing himself up on one elbow. Tony leaned forward to meet him in the middle, holding his hands up.
"Cool if I help you up?"
"Be my guest," Vision breathed.
Tony wrapped one arm around Vision's waist to hoist him up, both of them stumbling upon standing upright – Vision probably because of whatever vertigo he'd been feeling, Tony because he hadn't been expecting the android to be so light. He was tall and a little lanky, that was for sure, but Tony had expected him to be– what, 160? 175? At least. But instead it was like picking up a paper doll.
"Sheesh, I know we're all watching our carbs back at base, but whatcha weighing in at, junior? Feels like spiderboy could outclass you."
It was startling to see the image of Vision's body flickering without losing the sensation of holding him up.
"My body is made of vibranium," he said, slouching against Tony's side. “I can change my… my density. I didn’t want to be too heavy for you.”
“Hey, nothing’s too heavy for me,” Tony joked, ignoring the knot in his stomach at how thin Vision’s voice was growing toward the end of his sentence.
“I apologize…”
Kicking the trash can away from the door, Tony remembered the unorthodox method he used for entry to the bathroom. He huffed out a sigh to himself. "Hey, FRIDAY? Wanna get some of our guys on this gas station?"
“On it, sir…”
"Uh, yeah. Yep," Tony put his hand up to block the sun when he felt Vision trying to double over the moment they were outside, "Hey- bud? Don't do that, okay? You don't weigh much, but you're makin' it hard as shit to walk."
"I... apologize. Again," Vision whined, and Tony's heart stuttered in his chest when he felt the android tuck his head against his shoulder. "I'm in... a great deal of pain right now, I will admit."
"No way, I totally wouldn't've guessed.”
The journey from the gas station to the motel was a much bigger struggle than Tony had been expecting, and he was glad Vision had done the density magic trick after the third time he had to stop him from collapsing to the ground. As they approached the entrance, Vision staggered to a stop suddenly.
“Wait… wait,” he insisted, his body flickering. “Give me a moment.”
Tony nodded, “Sure, yeah. Whatever you… what?”
A golden shimmer rippled through Vision and suddenly there was just… a normal guy standing there. Same height and build, but with blonde hair and pale skin and plain clothes. Tony almost dropped him in surprise.
“I’m sorry, you could do this for… how long?”
Vision didn’t answer, which Tony figured he couldn’t be mad at. He looked noticeably worse now that he looked so human. Hollow circles under his eyes and a queasy waxiness to his complexion.
Tony booked them a room for the day and half-dragged Vision down the concrete sidewalk to their door. Once he’d maneuvered them inside he drew the curtains and helped Vision sit down on the side of the bed.
Almost immediately, the synthesoid curled up on his side, tugging the motel blanket over his head to block out any remaining light.
Once Tony had drunk a good amount of water from the bathroom sink, he returned and knelt next to the bed, one hand resting on the night stand.
“Lemme know if you need anything,” he whispered, unsure if Vision was still awake to hear him.
After several seconds, he made a small sound and nodded. “Thank you,” Vision croaked out, “I apologize for my behavior. It's... unprofessional."
"Whoa, dude, no need to apologize," Tony said as he crossed around the end of the bed to sit on the other side, "I get a lotta migraines. No bueno. Just try and relax and we’ll get this shit sorted once we’re back home, yeah?”
Vision hummed absently and pulled the blanket tighter around himself. There was a stretch of silence where Tony thought he might've fallen asleep, before Vision groaned and rolled away.
"You alright, bud?"
"No–" he choked on a dry heave that he directed over the side of the bed like he expected to actually vomit. Tony looked on in awkward sympathy, face screwed up. Vision coughed pathetically and mumbled, "I'm sorry."
"Hey, I already told you it was alright. And I dunno, I get you feel like you’re gonna puke, but I mean— you haven’t eaten anything, right?"
“Not after last time,” Vision sighed.
Tony made a face of agreement, frowning deeply. “And it’s not like you feel drunk, you’re just sick and your head hurts. I hate to say it, maybe this is…” he tapped the center of his forehead.
Vision sighed, shifting back onto the bed. "I suppose you're right. Perhaps the pain is simply a trick of the stone."
"Well it's a pretty convincing trick. You look like shit," Tony chuckled. Vision squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his palms into his temples, drawing his knees back up toward his chest. "Can I do anything to help?"
"It just hurts," Vision sounded frustrated and close to crying again. “I wish–...”
He didn’t finish the thought, which left Tony wondering what he was going to say.
"I know, Vision, I know," Tony murmured, "Just try and... sleep. Or... I don't know what you do, but- you know what I mean. I know you want to cry, but that's not gonna help, it's just gonna make it hurt worse.”
Vision nodded and buried his head further in his arms, the stone's glow illuminating his sleeves.
For a while, Tony studied Vision’s strange glamour while he slept. He looked nothing like Edwin Jarvis, which was a bit of a shock to Tony’s system, but the face was still familiar somehow. Like an old friend he’d only known by telephone.
Watching the pulsating yellow light of the Mind Stone still embedded in Vision’s forehead out of the corner of his eye, Tony sighed and got to work taking notes on blank pages of the motel room’s guest book.
Hours later, Vision had either fallen asleep or put himself into a robot-trance or whatever, and Tony was playing Jenga on his phone in the dark bathroom so as not to disturb him. He'd taken as many observational notes as he could, went for a walk around the building while the Iron Man suit stood guard back in the room, returned to the bar for a pick-me-up, and took a second walk around the building where he found a very angry looking rabid racoon. Finally, after six hours and twenty minutes, he got a text from Happy that he’d found the motel and was sitting outside in the car.
Tony tried not to rush, but still moved with anxious speed as he slipped his shoes back on and padded over to the bed. Tentatively, he reached out and poked Vision’s shoulder, shaking him once when he didn’t respond to the poke.
“Hey, Vision? Wakey wakey, rise and shine, it’s time to head home, ‘kay?” Tony gripped his arm and shook him harder. He felt worry creep into his mind when that got no response either. "Vision, I need you to work with me! You don't breathe, so I dunno if you're dead or not." Tony gently slapped his face a couple times. "Vision? Vision, c'mon."
The mind gem suddenly lit up like the sun, making Tony jump back in shock with black spots dancing across his eyes. Vision jolted upright, immediately wincing and grabbing at his forehead. “Ah…” he sucked a breath of air through gritted teeth, “I apologize. Please say I didn’t hurt you.”
It took him a second, but Tony managed to shake off the shock. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. You didn’t blast my head off or anything, don’t worry.”
“Good,” Vision said, and he relaxed a bit, leaning back with his eyes shut.
“Uh… Happy’s here,” Tony informed him gently yet urgently. “If you think you can get up and get to the car. Long ride home, but it beats flying when you feel like shit.”
Vision nodded weakly, still holding his forehead. His brow was furrowed like he was trying to remember something. Tony swallowed, glancing toward the door. He tried not to sound too eager to leave.
“C’mon, I can help you up.”
“The stone…” Vision said suddenly, “It was… it was telling me something. In my dreams.”
Tony fumbled his words in the ensuing seconds, too shocked by the revelation to properly form a sentence. “The, uh, the stone in your head?” is all that came out, brilliantly.
“Yes. I can’t remember, but… the pain. That’s what the pain is, it’s the stone trying to communicate with me. It must be.”
“Whoa, whoa, okay–” Tony laughed because the stress was becoming too much again, “Okay! Slow down, robo-town, get me up to speed. You think the stone is talking to you through headaches?”
Vision sunk away a bit, looking sheepish. “I- I’m not sure. But… in my dream, I could see so clearly…” he paused and cringed like he was on the verge of remembering something terrible. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. But it was talking to me. It was warning me.”
That sent a chill through Tony’s spine. He frowned.
“Warning you…” he repeated, “About what?
"I-I..." he looked up at Tony, eyes filled with fear. "I don't know."