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“There’s a lot of things you need to get across this universe. Warp drive… wormhole refractors…
You know the thing you need most of all? You need a hand to hold.”
The Tenth Doctor
Wanda Maximoff would like a quiet life, thank you very much; a simple life where she can come home to her plants after a long day working in a job that’s relatively stress-free without being mundane, where she can go for drinks with the girls on a Friday night or maybe on a date with that cute guy who just moved in downstairs.
But no, Wanda Maximoff lives in New York City.
And a lot of crazy shit has gone down in New York City in recent years.
It’s almost become the norm now to hear of strange creatures causing havoc on the subway, for your commute to work to be disrupted whilst one of the Avengers lets their family drama get out of hand (again), or your building gets evacuated because somebody accidentally bought a piece of highly classified Stark technology on Ebay.
Which has happened.
Twice now
But, even by New York standards, things have been getting really weird lately.
-xxx-
The TVA keeps him in check, as was part of the agreement after the war. He’s free to roam all of time and space so long as he keeps to the Sacred Timeline and only intervenes when absolutely necessary. He hates being policed this way and the endless bureaucracy and red tape that comes with it; but this is the way things are now, and so he has to simply suck it up and do as he’s told.
New York has been a hive of activity for years now. He’s occasionally popped by just to make sure things aren’t getting too out of hand, but humans need to know that they aren’t alone in the universe and sometimes they have to find out the hard way.
Order and chaos in perfect balance.
There are times, however when that balance tips. Too much order is not necessarily a bad thing, but too much chaos is…
Well, that’s fairly self explanatory.
-xxx-
Everything seems to come to a complete halt as the city is plunged into darkness, the alien fleet breaking through the atmosphere and bringing with it a sense of impending doom. The clusters are small at first, but the craft grow in both number and size in the space of just a few minutes.
Wanda freezes, her feet firmly rooted to the spot as she stares up at the sky. Her brain is telling her to run, that this isn’t right and that she shouldn’t be out here where it’s not safe. Out of nowhere, she feels someone grab hold of her arm and pull her in the direction of an alleyway before shoving her through the back door of an old abandoned shop. Her heart is racing and her head spins as the adrenaline kicks in, her hands balling into fits as the shadow of her assailant looms into view. He’s tall, broad shouldered and…
Red?
His face is like nothing she’s ever seen before. Handsome, certainly, but his skin is a deep crimson laced with silver. He doesn’t have ears as such, and his eyes are the most vivid, vibrant blue she’s ever seen.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his accent surprisingly something akin to the English middle-class.
Wanda nods. “Fine.” she replies. “But I didn’t need rescuing.”
“That wasn’t a rescue,” he replies, brushing past her to peer out through the slats of a board up window. “But it wasn’t safe for you out there.”
“Look, I get the vibe you’re not from around here,” she says. “But this sort of shit happens all the time in New York. Usually the Avengers come and sort it out, make a mess, and then it’s forgotten about in a week or two.”
“Not like this it doesn’t,” the stranger replies. “And this isn’t something the Avengers can fix. Not on their own, anyway.”
“I love this look,” she says after a few moments of awkward silence. “Very creative. Speaking of the Avengers, are you in that new musical about them everyone’s raving about or something?”
“No,” he replies, furrowing his brow and giving her a somewhat perplexed stare. “This is… how I look.”
“Oh… right… okay then,” she replies with a nod of her head as she tries to process everything. “Not even the strangest thing I’ve seen today so that’s… fine.”
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Wanda,” she replies. “Wanda Maximoff.”
“Well then, Miss Maximoff,” he replies, extending a hand to her. “My name is Vision. How would you like to help me save the world?”
There will be plenty of time to overanalyse her decision later but, in the heat of the moment, Wanda takes hold of his outstretched hand and it’s a simple gesture that changes her life forever.
-xxx-
New York is just the beginning.
Wanda, Vision soon learns, is quick thinking, has a razor sharp wit and is brave as a lion to boot. For the first time in so very long, he finds himself travelling with a companion and that companion soon becomes a friend.
Though it is, perhaps, the look of absolute wonder on her face when he takes her to watch a once in a millennium meteor shower above the seas of the planet Ilmeonides that stirs something deep inside him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful,” she says, turning to look at him with unshed tears in her eyes.
“No,” he replies, feeling at least one of his twin hearts skip a beat at the breathtaking sight of her bathed in the moonlight. “Neither have I.”
-xxx-
As the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.
She isn’t even sure what they were fighting over (something stupid probably), but Wanda had walked away before she’d said something she would later regret. Now she’s lost him in the depths of an abandoned castle somewhere in a distant galaxy, and she curses him for being so damn stubborn and for bringing her to somewhere like this when she’d confessed that she had something of a phobia of confined spaces. Trying not to panic, Wanda practically runs through the castle, the labyrinth of corridors twisting and turning, leading only to dead ends and locked doors. She calls out to him, but he does not respond and so the panic builds until she’s practically sobbing.
And then she sees it; a golden yellow glow emanating from an antechamber to her right. Entranced by it, she follows the light towards a large yellow stone floating above a plinth in the centre of the room. The light is blinding, but still it calls to her and so she reaches out to touch it. The contact sends shockwaves through her body and it feels as though she’s been struck by lightening. Her fingertips tingle with it, and it fizzles and cracks in flickers of scarlet in the palm of her hands…
-xxx-
He does not believe in guns and weapons but, at times like this, Vision almost wishes his conscience and his morals weren’t so strong. Separated from Wanda, he finds himself ambushed by a grotesque, crow-like creature armed with a scythe and powerful magic. They are unevenly matched in combat, and there’s only so much ducking and diving he can do to fend of the attack. The creature catches him off guard, swiping at his ankle and pinning him to the floor with the blade.
“Where is the stone?” it growls.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
‘You lie, Time Lord,” it replies, pressing the blade ever closer to his jugular. “It’s with the girl, and the girl is with you.”
Wanda.
His eyes widen with fear; not for himself, but for Wanda. He has no idea what is happening here, but the thought of her in danger and all because of some stupid argument they’d had earlier in the day that caused her to storm off.
“Last chance, Time Lord.”
Vision screws his eyes shut, preparing himself for what is to come. What he doesn’t expect is for the creature to be propelled across the room, hitting the wall with such force so as to render it unconscious. He scrambles to his feet, looking up towards the doorway to see Wanda standing there with bright red eyes and balls of scarlet energy glowing in her outstretched palms.
“It called to me,” she says, and there’s something odd and distorted about her voice. “It called to me and so I reached out and touched it.”
“Oh, Wanda,” he sighs. “What did you do?”
Before she can answer, her entire body begins to burn. It’s agonisingly painful and she screams like a wounded animal as Vision rushes to her side.
“It’s alright,” he says, pulling her close and rubbing soothing circles on her back. “I’m here.”
“It burns,” she sobs, pressing her hands to her temples as another wave of pain washes over her.
Her suffering is like a knife to his heart, but he doesn’t know what he can do to ease it. There is one thing, he supposes, but there’s no guarantee that it will work and, even if it does, there will be a heavy price to pay.
But she is worth it.
Even if it means he’ll never see her again.
“Wanda, darling,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion as he takes her face in his hands. “I can fix this. I can make it better, but you have to trust me.”
Tears stream from scarlet eyes as she nods, her hands coming up to grasp his wrists tightly. “Please… make it stop.”
This isn’t how he planned or even dreamed for it to happen, but he kisses her. It lacks passion, but it does the job and he feels the stone’s power seeping into his veins. Freed from its hold over her, Wanda pulls back breathlessly and meets his eyes with a timid yet grateful smile before collapsing like a rag doll to the floor.
Sweeping her up into his arms, he pretends not to notice the golden glow around his hands.
-xxx-
When Wanda finally wakes, she feels as though she’s experiencing the worst hangover of her life. Her head is pounding and her mouth is dry as the Sahara and she’s thankful for the glass of water and packet of painkillers left on her bedside table. On unsteady legs, she stands up and stretches her arms high above her head, feeling her muscles stretch and her joints crack which is oddly satisfying. Her hair is a tangled, greasy mess and she’s in desperate need of a shower but, as she reaches for some clean underwear, she hears the sound of running water and low, slightly out of tune humming coming from the kitchen. The pepper spray in her bag had been a joke Secret Santa present, but she finds herself reaching for it anyway and creeps out of the bedroom, being careful not to step on any of the loose floorboards and startle the intruder.
They’re in the living room now, pottering about and watering her plants.
What sort of burglar waters the plants?
She’s heard that Queens has its very own friendly neighbourhood Spiderman, but friendly neighbourhood Plant Man?
Surely not.
“You’ve got thirty seconds to get out or I’m calling the cops.”
He puts down the spray bottle and raises his hands above his head, completely surrendering himself to her and showing that he means no harm.
“Wanda, it’s me… you can put that down.”
The voice is familiar, but the pale, blond haired man is not.
But those eyes…
She would know those eyes anywhere.
“Vizh?”
He nods, responding to the nickname she had given him shortly after they had begun travelling together and takes a step towards her. Much to his dismay, Wanda recoils in horror and there’s a look of deep uncertainty on her face.
“Wanda, I promise you, it’s me,” he says again. “Please. It’s a complicated story, but I need you to listen. If you still want me to leave afterwards, then I will but… you have to trust me.”
“Trust me,” he’s said that to her before. The memories are somewhat hazy, but it’s one of the few things she can remember before waking up back in her apartment.
Wanda sits herself down on the sofa, but he remains standing out of respect for her personal boundaries.
“As you are aware, I am not human.”
“You’ve never explicitly said it,” Wanda replies. “But it wasn’t hard to figure out.”
“Three days ago, you absorbed the power of an Infinity Stone. I won’t bore you with the details right now, but what you need to know is that shouldn’t have been possible. Left with it, that power would have consumed you, and so I took a chance knowing full well the consequences of my actions. My people… we do not die right away, but instead we renew ourselves, causing a complete physical and often psychological change. I have had many faces in my lifetime, but never one quite like this. It seems that, when I took the power of the Stone from you, I must have absorbed some human DNA and, as such, this is what happened.”
“You… you were willing to die for me?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
Wanda flings herself into his arms then and pulls him close to her. “Oh Vizh,” she sighs. “That really wasn’t necessary… You could have just left me, I’m not important.”
Vision squeezes her tightly and sighs. “On the contrary, I have lived for more than nine-hundred years and never once have I met someone who wasn’t important,” he says. “You least of all, Wanda Maximoff.”
Wanda pulls back from him and studies his face. His bone structure is similar, and he still has that warmth in his eyes that convinces her that she can trust him. Unsure of exactly how to respond to such a declaration, Wanda push herself up onto her tiptoes and kisses his cheek.
Apparently he can blush now.
-xxx-
They spend the next couple of days exploring her world.
He is nine-hundred years old and yet he looks at the everything with a childlike wonder. He has spent centuries observing humanity, yet he has never truly experienced what it means to actually be human. They walk hand in hand through the city, Wanda playing the tour guide as she shows him all of New York’s most famous landmarks, as well as many more hidden gems that are a little off the beaten track. Later, they lie together on her sofa, their legs entwined and her head resting on his chest as they bingewatch some of her favourite comedies (or her “comfort shows” as she’d once called them). They have travelled through both time and space, yet it is here in the quiet of her apartment as she listens to the rhythmic thumping of his heartbeats and the rumble of laughter in his belly that Wanda realises she has fallen head over heels in love with her best friend. His face might not look the same, but he’s still her Vision on the inside.
And she loves him.
She loves him so much.
With an overwhelming urge to tell him, she cranes her neck upwards only to find that the regeneration has taken its toll on his body and he has finally succumbed to exhaustion. He looks so peaceful that it would be a shame to wake him, and so Wanda carefully gets to her feet and pulls the blanket up over him, tucking it in at the sides and smiling to herself as he rolls over and buries his face in the cushions. With a delicate touch, she brushes his hair back off his forehead and places a tender kiss to his temple.
“Sweet dreams, Vizh.”
-xxx-
They have all of time and space at their feet and yet there is one place she wants to visit more than any other.
Sokovia.
“All I remember is bloodshed,” she says quietly, toying with the sleeves of her jumper. “The bombs and the fighting, it was constant. I want to know what it was like before all that.”
Vision is happy to oblige and takes her to a remote village in the lake country south of Novi Grad in the year 1936. The market is vibrant and bustling, and they are shown so much kindness and hospitality by the owner of a local tavern that they find his invitation to stay for dinner impossible to turn down. Wanda finds herself effortlessly slipping back into her mother tongue as she converses with the landlord’s son, smiling knowingly when she spots that his eyes keep wandering towards a pretty young woman working on a market stall directly opposite.
“Is she your sweetheart?” she asks as he sets down two piping hot bowls of paprikash and freshly baked bread on the table, trying not to laugh as his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Yes,” the boy nods, a bright smile gracing his handsome face as he looks across at her again. “My Wanda.”
“What a coincidence,” Vision says, though doesn’t continue any further as his own Wanda kicks his foot under the table. “What I mean is… umm… it’s a coincidence that the two of you are romantically involved when we were just speaking to her earlier.”
Wanda forces a smile. “Complete coincidence.”
“I’m going to marry her one day,” he tells them. “And we’ll be as happy as Mama and Papa, and perhaps even the two of you.”
“Oh no, we aren’t…”
Another kick. Harder this time.
“What he means to say is that we’re sure you’ll have a wonderful life together,” Wanda says, and Vision furrows his brow as he notices the very slight way her voice cracks.
“Thank you,” the boy says. “I’ll leave you now. Enjoy your food… it’s a family recipe.”
Wanda says nothing further; instead, she picks up her spoon and absentmindedly stirs at the stew.
“Wanda, is there something you aren’t telling me?” Vision asks after a few moments of almost painful silence.
“I was named after my paternal grandmother,” she tells him. “She married my grandfather, Mirek, in nineteen-thirty-seven. They had six children… my father was the youngest and one of only two who survived into adulthood.”
“The boy? That’s Mirek?” Vision asks as he starts to put the pieces together. “That’s your grandfather?”
Wanda nods tearfully. “Yeah… this is my family, Vizh,” she tells him. “This is my home. And that man there, the landlord, that’s Ivano. Ivano Maximoff is my great-grandfather. Four years from now, the Nazis will invade Sokovia; first they take Novi Grad and then it spreads like a cancer… but they come here and Ivano and some of the other men, they stand up and they say no.”
“A true hero.”
“Or a martyr,” she replies quietly. “My family’s Jewish, Vision.”
Again, it takes another moment for him to understand what she’s insinuating. “Oh.”
“The resistance doesn’t last long. Ivano will one day find himself on a train bound for Poland… to Auschwitz. As for Mirek, he goes off to war a boy but the man who eventually returns is a complete stranger to his own wife.”
“Oh, Wanda.”
“And that’s how it starts,” she continues, swallowing her tears. “The Nazis and then the Russians, and then Sokovians fight Sokovians over the scraps before Tony fucking Stark and the Americans end up involved and I… I lose everything.”
He reaches out across the table and takes her hand in his before giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I lost my family in a war too,” he says quietly. “I don’t know why I haven’t told you this before, but I’m the very last of my kind.”
Wanda’s breath hitches; all that loss and heartache and yet he still manages to be the kindest, most compassionate person she’s ever met. Somehow, it makes her love him even more.
“So why didn’t you fix it?” she asks. “You can travel in time and yet you’re still alone. I promise you, I didn’t know that Ivano and Mirek would be here, but I have the chance to save them. I can give them the life they never had and maybe… maybe that means I can save my parents too.”
Vision shakes his head. “Wanda, darling, that isn’t how it works.”
“But… we can travel in time.”
He sighs and feels his hearts breaking at the look of utter despair on her face. “Long ago, there was a multiversal war. Countless unique timelines battled each other for supremacy and it almost resulted in the destruction of absolutely everything,” he begins. “The Time Lords, of which I am one, were sensitive to these different timelines, being able to see all that is, all that was, and all that ever could be. Not only that, but we could also see what must not be, and so we stayed away from events that were always destined to happen. That being said, nobody foresaw what happened in the multiversal war and we were powerless to stop it. It’s a long story, one for another time perhaps, but I have no memory or recollection of how or why I was able to survive. In the aftermath of the war, the Time Keepers emerged, and brought peace by reorganising the multiverse into a single timeline.”
At this juncture, he pulls a piece of paper and a pen from his inside pocket and draws a straight line across it.
“This is called the Sacred Timeline and it’s the proper flow of time for everything and everyone. There are times, however, times when people veer off the path the Time Keepers created; maybe they started an uprising or were simply late for work but, whatever it was, stepping off that path creates what we call a nexus event. If left unchecked, these could continue to branch off and potentially cause another multiversal war.”
It’s complex and it makes Wanda’s head ache but, somehow, it also makes complete sense.
“So what you’re saying is that this was always meant to happen? To Ivano and Mirek? I was always supposed to lose my parents… to meet you?”
Vision nods. “Yes,” he replies. “And, as tempting as it is when one is given the power to do so, we cannot change the past.”
“But who would know?”
“The Time Keepers created the TVA,” he replies. “The Time Variance Authority. It’s their job to step in and fix the mistakes made by the Variants and set time back on its predetermined path.”
“Variants?”
“It’s what we… they… call people who have stepped off their path.”
Wanda wrinkles her nose at this. “You make them sound like some sort of contagious virus.”
“Some might say they are,” Vision replies with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“And what happens to these so called Variants?”
“The TVA have a duty to arrest them and put them on trial for their crimes, even if it was unintentional.”
“All cops really are bastards,” Wanda mutters under her breath.
Vision chuckles. “Indeed.”
-xxx-
They learn that there is to be a party tonight, a celebration of the arrival of summer. There will be food and music and dancing and, once again at the insistence of Ivano, Wanda andVision agree to stay. In a flurry of excitement, Wanda is whisked away by the women to get ready.
She hasn’t worn traditional dress since she was six years old, and so putting it on again feels like rediscovering a missing piece of herself. When she steps out of the tavern, dressed all in white and red with her hair in intricate braids and adorned with flowers, the look of absolute adoration on Vision’s face is almost too much to bear and she finds herself ducking her head as her cheeks burn. It becomes apparent fairly quickly that he is a hopeless dancer, but Mama taught her all the steps to the folk dances and so Wanda guides him through it as best as she can. For a few hours, all of their troubles are forgotten and their spirits lifted until the mood becomes calmer and more subdued as the others begin heading for home.
They watch from the sidelines as couples dance together; this one is slow and intimate and Wanda’s eyes are fixed upon the youths who will one day become her grandparents.
“I wish they could stay like this forever,” she says. “I mean I understand now why they can’t, but that doesn’t make me want it any less.”
Vision nods in agreement and takes a drink from his glass before getting to his feet and extending a hand to her. “This one I think I can manage,” he tells her. “Will you show me?”
He does indeed master it beautifully, but with his hand on her waist and her arms wrapped around his neck, they find themselves drawn into something more akin to a contemporary slow dance.
“I don’t understand how someone as wonderful as you could ever be allowed to be lonely,” Wanda says, her voice barely above a whisper. “It seems so unfair.”
“I’m not lonely, I’m alone,” he corrects. “Or at least I was until I met you.”
“And now?”
“Now it feels as though my life has a purpose again.”
She kisses him then; it’s soft and chaste and tastes like red wine and spice, but it’s the kiss she’s been wanting to give him for so very long now. After a brief pause, he reciprocates, pouring absolutely everything he can’t find the words to say into his kiss.
They have travelled through time and space together but, in this moment, their entire universe seems to centre around each other.
-xxx-
It’s late and so they take a room above the tavern, Vision mesmerised by the way the fabric of her dress moves with each step she takes up the narrow staircase as he follows behind. Upon entering the small room with a single bed pushed up against the wall, he reaches for one of the spare blankets, intent on sleeping in the threadbare armchair by the fireplace. As he turns, Wanda reaches for him, grabbing him by the wrist and forcing him to look at her; sapphire eyes meet green, and there is a mutual understanding between them.
Vision drops the blanket and, with trembling hands, Wanda reaches up to push his jacket from his shoulders. As the heavy material falls to the floor, he steps closer to her and sweeps her up in a passionate kiss. She helps him with the laces of her dress, stripping her clothing layer by layer until she’s down to her underwear. They move to the bed which creaks under their weight and makes them both laugh after a moment of sheer panic that it’s going to collapse; he’s far too tall and the space too cramped, but their need for each other is too much and so they make it work. He is exquisitely beautiful as he moves above her and she touches and caresses each part of him, mapping out his body and committing him to memory for the rest of her days. Afterwards, she drifts off to sleep against his chest, his back pressed to the wall and their limbs entwined as he holds her close to him.
“I love you, Wanda Maximoff,” Vision says quietly, tucking her hair back behind her ears. “To infinity and beyond.”
He thinks she hasn’t heard him, but the dreamy smile on her lips is evidence to the contrary.
-xxx-
After Sokovia, they return to New York as they try to navigate this new and not entirely unexpected shift in their relationship. It’s only supposed to be for a few days, but those days turn into weeks until almost three months have gone by. Every day, Wanda gets up and goes to work, leaving Vision alone in her apartment to water her plants, read her books and occasionally wander the city she calls home. By night, they go out to dinner or spend the entire evening cuddled up on the sofa watching television with a takeaway or whatever she’s taught him to cook that week.
And, of course, there’s the sex.
As it turns out, having a nine-hundred year old boyfriend with two hearts who’s also travelled throughout time and space certainly has its advantages. Wanda is convinced that some of the things he does to her are probably illegal in several states and his stamina is absolutely unparalleled. She likes it best, however, first thing in the morning when their minds are still fogged with sleep, when everything seems so much more sensitive and they haven’t seen or spoken to another living soul save for each other. He, on the other hand, has no preference for a particular time of day but finds he enjoys it most when she is on top of him, when he can focus on nothing but her and the way she loses herself in him. She is the most enchanting woman he has ever seen and he still can’t believe that she chose him above anyone else.
And so, a month later, Vision makes a life-changing decision.
He’s done running, done with getting himself involved in other people’s wars and conflicts. He is done answering to the TVA and treading on eggshells wherever he goes. The last of the Time Lords, it seems, is giving up everything to live a quiet, simple, and completely human existence on Earth with the woman he loves. He hasn’t told Wanda this yet but, as he sits on the end of the bed (their bed) watching her sleep, he knows that there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her. It almost seems a shame to wake her, but he knows he cannot leave without at least one kiss and so he gently presses his lips to hers.
Wanda stirs, rubbing a hand across her face and pushing her hair out of her eyes. “Vizh? What time is it?”
“Still early, my love,” he says. “But I have somewhere I need to be.”
Wanda pushes the duvet back and sits up. “Give me about ten minutes and I’ll come with you,” she says, her voice hoarse and gravelly from sleep.
“No,” Vision replies, perhaps too forcefully than intended. “No, this is something I have to do on my own. It’s… a meeting of sorts. Very dull, just a formality.”
Wanda furrows her brow and pouts like a child. “Fine, but promise me you won’t be long.”
“You know me, darling. I’ll be back in a minute; perhaps less even.”
Wanda flops back down on the bed. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“I would expect nothing less,” he replies with a smile before giving her one last, lingering kiss.
-xxx-
They don’t take it as well as he hoped.
If anything, they are livid.
“Our agreement was clear; stay out of things unless they demand interference.”
“And I did exactly that,” he replies cooly. “As did she. I told her about the Sacred Timeline, the Variants… all of it.”
“Then how do you explain this?”
They show it to him then; the Timeline in complete disarray and all tracing back to a singular moment in an abandoned castle three thousand lightyears away.
“That power was always meant for her. Some say that she’s a myth, a being capable of both spontaneous creation and total destruction… and yet you took that from her.”
“It would have killed her!”
“Potentially, but then it was always meant to. Your actions caused her to deviate from the Timeline, Time Lord, and you know what that means.”
“No… please, no.”
-xxx-
She’s having those dreams again; the same vivid dreams she’d lost sleep over around the time Vision regenerated. She hasn’t had them in a long while though, at least not since they became a proper couple and so it seems almost odd that their return should coincide with him leaving her for the first time since they met.
A metal man offers them Tony Stark’s head on a plate.
The Avengers forced to confront their worst nightmares at her hand.
“He’s dreaming.”
Vision draped in gold and inviting her to look into his mind.
Pietro drowning in a sea of bullets. Waves of sadness and despair washing over her again and again and again.
Vision by her side as she navigates the world alone for the first time in her entire life; making her laugh, listening to the stories of her childhood and her deepest darkest fears, the look of absolute wonder on his face as he discovers what it means to be human.
“What is grief if not love persevering?”
A catastrophic mistake. The world turning against them; against her .
Stolen moments between a fugitive and the man who would risk everything for love.
“Stay.”
An agonising choice. The ultimate sacrifice. A purple-faced giant squeezing the life out of him.
Nothing. Endless nothingness and emptiness as she fades away. Fire and rage and the need for redemption burning in her veins.
Her all in white, surrounded by friends and found family as they exchange vows; their marriage sealed with a kiss and a first dance under the stars.
A house in the suburbs. Twin boys and a dog named Sparky.
“Thank you, for choosing me to be your mom.”
Vision. Always Vision there by her side; her constant. Her love. Her soulmate .
The multiverse is vast and wide yet, in each parallel dimension and reality, Wanda and Vision always find their way towards each other.
Wanda wakes in a cold sweat, chest heaving and heart racing. Her head is pounding, the pain so intense that it feels as though her skull is being crushed. Trembling, she gets out of bed and throws on a pair of joggers over her knickers, tucking in the t-shirt of Vision’s she’d stolen from him as she pads barefoot towards the kitchen. She’s been asleep for hours and he still hasn’t come back, despite promising it would be no more than a minute. The bile rises in her throat as the worry sets in and she slowly drinks down a whole pint of water before refilling the glass and swallowing two paracetamol down with it.
She tells herself it’s nothing, that he’s absolutely fine and that he’ll come back. She needs to tell him about the dreams; again, they’re probably nothing, but they feel so real and perhaps she just needs some reassurance that everything is as it should be.
Suddenly, Wanda senses that she’s not alone and spins on her heel, the glass crashing to the floor and shattering into a thousand tiny fragments on the linoleum. Expecting to see Vision, she’s more than just a little surprised (and even afraid) to find herself confronted by what can only be described as soldiers, dressed from head to toe in black and each wearing the same stern look upon their faces.
“Variant identified,” the first says, consulting a device in her hand before looking straight at Wanda. “On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the Sacred Timeline.”
-xxx-
They have her.
They have Wanda and it’s all his fault.
He’d been so blinded by his love for her that he hadn’t stopped to consider the consequence of his actions yet, somewhat surprisingly, Vision cannot bring himself to regret what he did.
And so, even if it means that the walls of the multiverse collapse or that he has to tear space and time apart, he will stop at nothing to bring her back to him…
Because hell hath no fury like a Time Lord scorned.