Work Text:
These past few years had been filled with goodbyes. There were the short, simple goodbyes when they lived on the Avengers Compound, basically next-door neighbours. They'd pass each other when they were going to work or training, exchange a few friendly words and move on. Wanda was still mourning her brother's death at the hands of Ultron. Vision was still figuring out who he was. Maybe they loved each other all the way back then. They were too occupied with their own thoughts to know.
There were the quick goodbyes whispered in train stations or airports when Vision had to go back to the United States to work on the Accords and Wanda had to go back into hiding. When they weren't sure what they could be together, or if they could be together. By the time Vision had said that he thought this worked, Thanos's forces were already planning an assault on the Mind Stone.
Then, there was the final goodbye, the one that hung over Vision's mind like a pitch-black curtain. It wasn't a matter of if, but when and whom. He'd said she could never hurt him seconds before she shattered the stone in his skull. The plan would have worked had Thanos not had the Time Stone. She lived through the goodbye a second time at Thanos's hand before he made his wish come true.
Then, it had been five years, and his body was gone. There had been no funeral, no resting place. His name wasn't even on the memorial for the victims. His body was shoved in a vault until somebody decided they could turn the remains into a monstrous, soulless machine. To SWORD, Vision was only a machine, property to be owned or traded at will.
Some part of the government had seen him as human. They'd let him take out a mortgage on a house in New Jersey. He'd wanted them to grow old there.
And now he was gone and she was still here. She'd worried about getting close; everyone she loved died tragically. Vision's death had been the most tragic of all -- the one performed by her own hands, and it had failed.
She wanted Vision back. She wanted them all back. She wanted them to come back and be here.
She'd never get that picket-fence life she so desperately dreamed of as a girl, a place where there was no war, no bombs, and no suffering. A life where she didn't have to worry about when she'd stop smiling.
In the broken foundations of what was meant to be her home, she collapsed. The anguish squeezed her soul like a snake. All she could do was scream. She wanted him back. She wanted him here.