Vision blinks his eyes open as Wanda stirs beside him, a soft noise escaping her lips.

Her delicate brow is creased in a frown, her eyes shifting beneath closed lids as she wades through troubled dreams, and Vision gently strokes a finger across her cheek.

She's had trouble sleeping since the Raft – night terrors waking her every few hours, her trembling body drenched in sweat and a scream on her lips. Wanda has yet to open up to him about what exactly happened, but the words she murmurs in her sleep give him enough idea, and he is becoming familiar with the little curl of heat in his chest that is rage over how she was treated.

Since Captain Rogers had broken them out she'd been a ghost, flitting from one location to another in a desperate bid to keep off the radar, but there were only so many conclusions that could be drawn when an "explosion of red magic" got reported to the news.

It had taken him a week of constantly monitoring Mr. Stark's facial recognition scanner and finding patterns in her previous sightings to pin her down, and she'd actually broken down crying when he'd cornered her in a near-deserted train station in middle-of-nowhere Europe and revealed that he was there to help.

He'll never forget the first heart-breaking glimpse he'd caught of her – standing alone in the light evening rain with a tattered, too-big coat wrapped firmly around her shivering body and her hair a mess as she stared down the hazy tracks with dead eyes.

Despite her wretched appearance, his heart had soared straight up into his throat at the mere sight of her, relief crashing like an avalanche over him because he had found her at last and she was okay.

He hadn't let her out of his sight since.

Vision turns over slowly, phasing his body in and out in turn to be sure he doesn't disturb her light sleep, until he has one arm curled around her shoulders and the other hugged around her waist. Wanda settles a little against him as he curls around her, the girl taking subconscious comfort in the heat and feel of being held. The brush of her warm breath curling over his collarbone runs like a shiver up through his processors to buzz in his head, and he lets out a slow sigh in content.

He doesn't need to sleep – not the way she does – so in the small hours of the night when Wanda is trying to catch up on some much-needed rest, he keeps guard to put her mind at ease. Lying at her side, he can lower his energy usage to a minimum and let his mind wander, roving over maybes and what-ifs, and what could possibly be.

Exploring the options for what can be done…what he can do…about the Accords that keep them apart, and the fears that linger in her big, trusting eyes when she looks up at him.

About that awful "wanted dead or alive" order that's hanging like a noose around the neck of the young woman he loves more than anything in this world.

So far his options have been scattered and highly implausible, but he will never stop trying. Not until he can bring his dear Wanda home with him safely.

The sharp, sudden ringing of his cell jolts Wanda awake with a gasp, and Vision winces. He had been hoping that she would get a chance to sleep through the night.

He kisses the top of her head, murmuring an apology into her hair as he gently detangles an arm from her and gropes for his cell on the dresser.

The number is startlingly familiar, and Vision swallows his lingering emotions back hard before he answers the phone.


"Vision, buddy," Tony's voice rings through the speaker, sounding far too chipper, and Vision doesn't miss the way Wanda goes a shade paler as she realizes who it is he's talking to.

"It's, ah…it's midnight," Tony points out, his voice shifting as if he's leaning to look at something. "Haven't seen you since yesterday. Where'd you get off to? Rhody's been asking after you. Said you told him you'd be back tonight."

Vision turns a glance to the clock, letting out a slow breath as he realizes that it is barely even five in the morning where they are.

"Something has come up…I will be away for another couple nights," he says vaguely.

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Just make sure you're getting that analysis run that I needed, okay?" Tony says distractedly, the sound of power tools running in the background. "Got to go. Talk to you later."

"Goodbye, Mr. Stark," Vision recites, listening for the click of the other line disconnecting before he turns off the screen and sets his phone aside.

Wanda is tucked up tight against him, and although she tries to suppress it, he can feel the anxious little shiver that runs through her. He nuzzles his face into her hair, hugging her tight as he tries to chase away her fears by mere proximity.

"You are safe here," he whispers. "They have no way to find us. I will allow no harm to befall you."

She glances up at him, a sweet, tired smile playing at her lips, and Vision returns the expression tenderly.

"I'll make tea," he offers instead, gently stroking her hair back from her face. "Try to rest for a while longer. It's very early."

Wanda nods, more from deferral than any desire to try for more sleep, and Vision presses a kiss to her forehead before tucking the plush comforter up around her and slipping out of bed.

As he makes his way to the little hotel kitchenette and begins setting up a mug, he can't help another glance back at his beautiful Wanda, stunning even in modest pajamas, makeup-free, and with sleep-mussed hair.

He would do anything to protect her.

And if that means defying the very Accords he signed and fought for not even a year ago…then so be it.