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"Well, this is not what I had in mind." Wanda pulled her coat around her a little more securely, trying to avoid the sharp teeth of the wind chewing relentlessly at her jacket. She hastily buttoned the coat when the wind returned with a stronger gust. It hadn't been this chilly when they'd begun their mission. Cold, but no worse than Sokovia on a rough day.
"We have gathered some valuable information on the target area. Captain Rogers reported he was pleased with our efforts so far." Vision reassured her, striding between the trees, his booted feet leaving unique imprints in the snow. He was clad in his usual teal suit and shimmering gold cape, but Wanda frowned, eyeing his ungloved hands and the expanse of skin around his throat and chest not covered by the suit.
"Aren't you cold?"
"Oh, I can regulate my core body temperature to counteract the environmental influence." Vision replied, and Wanda chuckled once, ruefully. "Wish I could do that about now. Let's keep going, I'll freeze just standing here."
"Are you certain? We can always return to the quinjet and continue our surveillance tomorrow. It is growing quite late." Vision pointed out.
Wanda had already turned and began stepping lightly over the snow. It had fallen early that morning, and only sparsely amongst the thick Russian forest surrounding the HYDRA base. She could still move with relative ease. "Vision, you worry too much. There's well over an hour until sundown."
"There is though, a possibility of a storm brewing-"
"Vis." Wanda turned to face him. "I told you not to go on Weather.com, they're probably collecting data from satellites older than the contents of Stark's refrigerator. Now, we can finish this is far less than an hour, and I'd really rather not come back again tomorrow. So - are you with me?"
Vision met her gaze and held it for a long minute. For a moment she wondered at the slight tightness around his lips, the subtle way the lines around his eyes drew closer together. Was he annoyed with her? He replied before she could consider probing his thoughts to check.
"Of course, Wanda." He replied smoothly, expression softening back into his more usual look of fathomless innocence. She smiled at him, glad all of a sudden that if she had to be stuck out here in a snowy Russian jungle, she was stuck in a snowy Russian jungle with Vision.
Twenty minutes later the icy wind had blown in a set of clouds so dark and low the light had almost completely been obscured. Vision didn't speak, but Wanda could pick up constant threads of worry from his mind, as clearly as if a cartoonist had drawn a thought bubble with 'uh-oh' inside above his head. He accepted a torch from her pack and they carried on, but when fresh snow began to spiral down a hand firmly caught her elbow.
"Wanda!" Vision had to raise his voice, the wind having picked up to a relentless howl. "We won't be able to continue our mission in this weather. We need to head back to the jet."
His voice was decisive, firmly so. It was so unlike Vision to oppose her, particular with so much resolve, that it gave Wanda pause. She realized just how stubborn she was being, insisting they finish the mission with the weather so bad, just because she wanted to get out of the cold and not come back again tomorrow.
"You're right, Vis. I'm sorry for dragging you, we should have gone back before."
He mentally accepted her apology, more with a feeling than any actual words, and turned around, keeping his fingers around her wrist. "Stay close." He called through the gale, and Wanda gritted her teeth as they turned to face the wind, bending her head down until she was all but resting her forehead between his shoulderblades. Her coat felt meaningless, her skin comprised of icy crystals. Vision's hand around hers was a comforting grip radiating heat, and willingly she let him lead as they trudged back towards the quinjet.
Their progress became slower and slower as the storm picked up. The torches were useless and Wanda's hand was shaking too much to hold it steady, so she put in back in her pack and tucked the hand under her arm, trying to return some feeling to her fingertips. She was well aware Vision cast her frequent glances, the worry once again more in his mind than reflected on his face, but she refused to complain. She'd gotten herself into this mess and she'd be the one to walk herself right back out of it.
The tree thought otherwise. Wanda was aware of the cracks and creaks of the forest as it bent and swayed in the wind, the trees well used to such punishment -- so Wanda assumed. But then, in every collective stronghold, there were always weak points, and one such elm lost its battle with the storm and came crashing down towards the two Avengers.
Vision was concentrating on their path back to the quinjet and monitoring Wanda's condition, gearing up the nerves to ask to fly her back to the jet in his arms, and he totally missed the warning signs. Wanda's mind by this stage seemed slow and unwieldy to respond, and by the time her telekinesis had registered a large object hurtling towards them it was too late for a reaction.
Vision, being taller, was struck first. He didn't start or cry out, instead throwing an arm up and out, protecting Wanda, managing to knock the main trunk away from her smaller frame. But there were numerous branches, some half as stout as the trunk itself. Wanda's left palm, released from Vision's grip, opened and crimson energy flared around the edges of her full glove, but she couldn't co-ordinate her other hand properly to boost her magic further, and while the glove had saved her from frostbite, it actually restricted her magic. She deflected a few branches, all on her left side where Vision stood, but her reaction had been too sluggish to prevent them all.
A branch cracked solidly against the back of Wanda's skull, and instantly she fell, eyes closed, the last shred of her consciousness registering an impossibly loud shout of her name.
Wanda...
Wanda?
WandaWandaWanda.
Please.
Please look at me.
Wanda...
The first thing she saw was Vision's eyes looking down at her, the intricate gears surrounding the iris whirling in frantic circles. She blinked several times as focus returned.
Worry. There was a lot of worry in that gaze.
Wanda exhaled weakly, lifted her hand, and patted Vision clumsily on the cheek. "Your eyes are really pretty." She slurred. A faint furrow traced down center of his forehead, and he gently caught her hand between his.
"I believe you are still concussed. Wanda, do you recall where we are?"
With each second that passed, a combination of the ever-present cold (a negative) and the liquid-smooth familiarity of Vision's voice (a sure positive) returned her to proper mental faculties. Wanda took a few deep breaths. Her powers crackled up through her mind, crimson flares chasing away the fog. She sat up, ignoring Vision's protesting murmurs, finding herself on a bank of passenger seats.
"Vis, we're back at the quinjet, my name is Wanda Maximoff, your name is Vision, we're part of the Avengers, and we got stuck in this mess because I was a stubborn-" She finished with a Sokovian swear word for an extreme imbecile that had no direct translation into English. "I'm really okay, Vis. Not concussed anymore. I am cold though." She shivered, rubbing her exposed arms. Both her thick outer coat and the arms of her jacket had been shredded by the rough bark of the tree, and she sighed at the scratches starting at her wrist and stretching back from there. "It didn't hurt you, did it?
"Oh no. I feel that between myself and the tree I escaped unscathed, though I cannot say the same for it."
"That's one less thing to worry about then. You, not the tree. How long was I out?"
"Fourteen minutes and twenty-nine seconds after I arrived with you." Vision made a slight gesture to indicate the jet. Wanda gave him a quick look. "You carried me again. Don't make a habit of it, I wouldn't want anybody thinking I'm the damsel in distress - but thank you. That's two that I owe you now. I won't forget."
"There will never be any debt between you and I, Wanda." Vision assured her quietly. She made to get up, but he put out a gentle hand to stop her. "Let me see to those first." He nodded to her scratches, and before she could protest he phased through the jet's wall towards the small bathroom.
"My apologies for the low temperature." He reappeared a moment later holding a first-aid kit in his hands. "The HYDRA base is on active alert after I accidentally flew through a perimeter sensor. As long as we stay powered down, they are exceptionally unlikely to detect us, but we cannot risk activating any of our systems."
"Which means no heat. Understood." Wanda pulled a face though. "Vis, you don't have to-"
He lifted a hand and waved her concern off in a gesture so human she forgot her protests for a moment, analyzing it. Had he learned it from Sam, or Steve? Watching television?
By the time she thought to protest again, Vision was already at work. He unwrapped a sterile saline pad and very gently began to clean the worst of her scratches. His mind whirred busily over his tasks, and because he had extended his powers towards her to monitor her pain level, Wanda in return got a very clear view of his thought processes. He was so genuinely concerned about her, so earnest and focused on cleaning such minor injuries, that Wanda melted a little. He was right - there was no debt between the pair of them. They were teammates, they watched each other's backs, and they took care of one another.
"Thank you." She smiled at him once he was finished, and was rewarded when he returned the gesture. Wanda thought he was lovely when he smiled. Sometimes it was a mere quirk of his lips, more an overall softening of his expression than a true smile. More rarely, he would smile widely, and she always enjoyed the contrast his teeth made against his skin.
This smile though faded quickly, and was replaced by a look of - his expressions were so difficult to read, subtle shadows of the facial range most people expressed - Wanda didn't want to say outright anxiousness, but certainly residual worry. "Wanda, there is quite a nasty cut on your scalp, where the branch struck you. Will you allow me to tend to it?"
The news surprised Wanda, because her head didn't hurt. She wondered if she might still be concussed or if it was just the extreme cold affecting her senses. Lifting a hand, she cautiously explored the back of her head and winced suddenly when her fingertips found the gash, about three inches long and an alarming inch across. "This is either a lot less extreme than it feels or I'm going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow."
Vision stood with one hand extended, holding a fresh gauze pad, looking steadily down at her. Waiting for permission, Wanda realized. "Yes, that'd be great. Thanks, Vis."
He lent over her somewhat, and she fidgeted a little at having him so close. He radiated warmth though, and she was unable to help angling her body slightly towards his. The level of heat flowing off his skin was better than a radiator, she thought blissfully, closing her eyes for a moment. Then she realized he was still hunched over her, far taller standing than she was sitting on the low seats to access her injury.
"Sorry. Sit down, and-" She tugged at his hand and he obliged her, sliding down into the seat next to hers. She slipped from her seat so she was sitting on the floor of the jet, at a much easier height for Vision. She was also now leaning against his leg, secretly thriving on the heat of him. "Better?"
He took a beat longer than usual before answering. "Thank you." His voice sounded normal, but there was something different to the timbre of his thoughts...
"I will attempt to be as gentle as possible, but please alert me if I cause you too much discomfort." Vision began to very carefully clean her head wound, and Wanda gathered up her hair, long since blown loose from its tie, and twisted it around the side of her neck out of his way. "It's fine, Vis. HYDRA did much worse to me, back in the day. And none of those soldiers ever had your good intentions." she joked weakly.
"What, exactly, did they do to you?" He was trying to distract her, she knew, from his task. Vision was the one person she didn't mind revealing her past to. She knew that it was safe with him.
"They used to have me fight the soldiers." She replied, matter of factly. "As a test of my powers. When I began to beat them hand to hand, they armed them. Sometimes out of fear, sometimes out of spite, they would hurt me, before I learned how to master this." She wiggled her index and middle finger and produced a brief scarlet glow.
"What happened after that?" He paused to see if he was using too much pressure, but she didn't flinch from his touch.
"I always won. So they stopped asking me to fight." Wanda frowned and Vision stilled his hands, fearing yet again he'd hurt her injured scalp - but it was in response to her words, a bad memory, the dark edges of it extending past her mind, reaching into his and chilling his synthetic heart. He caught glimpses of a cell block, of hard, unforgiving faces, of weapons and Pietro's face and-
With a flash of crimson, the memories all went black, then faded. "Sorry." She hung her head, but Vision comfortingly touched the back of her neck. "Think nothing of it." He went back to work, and for some time, they sat in silence.
Wanda actually felt herself dozing a little. Even though Vision kept pausing to check he wasn't hurting her, the pain from the injury still was not registering, and Vision was so exceptionally gentle as he dabbed the blood out of her hair she actually found it sort of soothing, especially when he ran his fingers lightly across her head to move aside a few stray hairs. Once the wound was clean he applied an antiseptic. "I can't bandage this." He warned as he packed away the first-aid supplies. "So I would avoid putting any pressure here." He touched the site one final time.
"Mmm-hmm." She agreed sleepily. He got up to replace the first-aid kit and her skin prickled in the chill air without his comforting warmth. Blinking heavily, she watched him pace to the door to double-check the locking mechanisms, then to the bridge to peer out the windshield into the ceaseless darkness. Then back to the door.
"Viiiis." She grumbled in complaint, and he turned towards her in surprise. "What's wrong?"
"Everything is fine, that's what's wrong. Nobody's going to find us. The jet's sensors would warn us even if our own powers missed anybody approaching. We're locked, safe, and stuck here for the night, so please just relax. And come back here, I've been using you for my personal space heater for the past hour and you're really, really warm."
He let out a short, huffing chuckle, but he came back and sat beside her, even if he did lower himself stiffly as if figuring out how to sit on the floor, all long legs like a half-grown Irish setter dog. (She and Pietro had had an Irish setter as young children). She immediately leaned against his shoulder once he'd settled. "Mm. Better." She mumbled approvingly. She shifted minutely a few times against him before stretching out so her leg was along his (her foot reached midway down his calf), hips touching, her head dropped to his shoulder.
Bliss. Complete, utter, bliss. Warmth flowed off him and over her like a tropical ocean wave, and she could quite literally feel herself floating away on the sensation. "You're amazing, Vision." She murmured, eyes already closed, mind settling into patterns of sleep so she never registered his response.
He drew an arm carefully around her shoulders, angling his body so she was nestled against his chest. His cloak unbuckled from his suit, floated around to the front of them, and draped itself neatly over Wanda, covering her up to her chin. He was relieved that she had fallen fully asleep now, unable to notice the sharp increase in speed of his heartbeat. This amazing, capable woman who had been through so much, who wasn't above admitting to her mistakes, who had reacted to danger to protect a vibarium android before protecting herself - and she thought he was the amazing one.