When the dust settles, Vision retreats to the half-abandoned A-tower to give himself time to think.
See, even that word is problematic, which is why he needs some time to figure things out: he knows he is not JARVIS, he is not an android, he is not a human. Maybe he is an alien, maybe there isn't a category to put himself into… yet he does have most of JARVIS' memory and a human capability to feel. And something new, something more, something he wishes he could just get on with but for his own sake as well as others' he should find a way to explain things.
Everyone is picking up pieces.
He might as well join the game.
A-tower feels like a tomb and it's not because there's still broken windows and scratches on the metal construction elements – everything inside is cleaned up, he learns as he flies into the penthouse– not because it's silent. The balcony door is open, letting in surprisingly warm spring air and city buzz.
It feels like a tomb because JARVIS is there and Visions knows the A.I. should be around. Not himself. Not himself.
Also, the large space is almost completely still.
Vision sits on his heels – he doesn't need rest, his body cannot be tired, but it seems like a proper thing to do. Breathe in and out although he doesn't really need the oxygen. He certainly appreciates the repetition though, to structure his thoughts.
Thoughts. Now he can really –
Someone is downstairs, he realizes. It must be a floor or two below because voices are faint and distorted and barely audible. He decides to investigate; he's a superhero in the end. This is what he's supposed to learn to do best now, look out for people (and not only.) Protect. Amuse himself in the process, maybe a little, and he will never admit Tony might have influenced that trait.
There is a child downstairs, Vision can soon tell, as he recognizes the voice is different from grown-up human specimen. The part of JARVIS in him supplies all the necessary information and Vision stops a few meters away from the staircase, wondering if it's a good idea to disturb Evelyn.
He doesn't know why the boy is crying – there are so many possible reasons – but he might be one of the reasons, he figures. Or maybe JARVIS. It's hard to tell. He knows JARVIS would help though.
Vision takes a few more steps, stopping at the top of the stairs, and he can see Evelyn on the sofa, with his head in Pepper's lap. She's stroking his hair which he strangely permits, and he's just there, sobbing and staring at the ceiling in an all too familiar way.
Pepper notices him a moment later and frowns slightly before giving him a little nod. As appalled as she was as Tony's recent behaviour ('You tried to create life and you didn't even ask me for opinion? I would have told you what an idiotic idea that was, Tony. I wonder how it could ever go wrong.') she took liking to Vision instantly.
('Being able to lift Mjornil wins you everyone, doesn't it?' Tony asked, sighing.
Vision knew that was very true, but.
'It's my winning personality,' he said instead; that's the kind of answer one gives to Tony Stark.)
'Thor?' Evelyn asks, his voice very quiet, he must have notices the cape. Vision probably shouldn't have done it, but he loved the cape, and Thor loved that he copied the design.
Vision is just about to say so when he realizes it will be the moment: however he wants to imagine meeting Evelyn, it cannot go well because he is JARVIS but he isn't. He definitely has the AI's beautiful voice. It's going to upset the boy, he muses.
He hoped to have more time to prepare for this; he has no idea Tony has already brought his family back to the tower.
'No,' he says anyway, before the silence stretches into awkwardness.
Evelyn sits up and gives him a crooked stare. Vision sighs (how many times JARVIS wishes he could do that, he thinks) and gets down the stairs, hovering just over the steps.
'Hi, Vision,' the boy says.
Vision blinks, frowning in an unconscious copying of human's sign of confusion. Pepper offers him a blinding smile.
'Hello, Evelyn,' he says tightly, observing the boy's reaction at his voice: there is barely any. Just it's a small smile. Vision shuffles his feet (since when is he standing on the floor?)
'You okay?' the boy asks. His head is still tilted, eyes inquisitive, but he is obviously concerned.
'Yes, I am fine, I merely…' he trails off, not sure what he wants to say. Or needs to say.
The he thinks, Evelyn is a big boy now. Almost fourteen – and at such age he should be capable of more comprehension and analysis of the surrounding world, should have a better grasp of his own behaviour. Maybe he's grown a lot since JARVIS has last paid close attention to this, or maybe Evelyn is taking to the new situation well because Tony explained it to him right, those two have the kind of understanding one can rarely see.
'Doesn't my voice upset you,' Vision signs, the knowledge is implanted in his head. It seems to make sense to sign asking that particular question.
'No,' Evelyn signs. 'It is Y-O-U-R voice.'
He spells the word out, like Tony sometimes does for emphasis.
'I am not JARVIS,' Vision says in JARVIS' voice, shivering inwardly.
'V-I-S-I-O-N,' Evelyn spells out. He gives Pepper a look, she just barely rolls her eyes and gives him the same nod she gave Vision earlier. Vision really admires how she puts up with all the superhero-and-related shenanigans while actually living a life.
Evelyn stops right in front of Vision; he seems quite tall – maybe he's grown or maybe seeing him from a human body perspective makes it feel different.
'Your new body,' Evelyn says, looking up to meet Vision's eyes (impressive indeed, Vision notes.) 'Difficult to learn about it?'
'Somehow,' Vision finds himself saying, truthfully enough.
'I teach you,' Evelyn decides and wraps his arms around Vision, his body feels so warm on the surface of Vision's skin. He's done handshakes and fist-bumps and unwanted physical contact during the fight, and he's held a few people in his arm while flying, but this is different.
Now he suddenly understands why humans are so fond of embracing; it gives him a sense of belonging. Of being wanted. Of being close.
He wraps his arms around the boy's thin shoulders and hugs back.
'You are still Anien,' Evelyn says, letting his hand wander to the cape at Vision's back and stroking its soft surface. 'Just better because you are here.'
Vision has JARVIS' data of people's heart rates going up, and memories of them mentioning a warm feeling, he has all the descriptions stored in his mind, but he could have never imagines how it actually is to feel that way.
'Want to fly with me?' Vision enquires and Evelyn grins and nods impatiently, as if he's been waiting to be asked that.
Pepper just shakes her head with amusements and snaps a picture on her phone, presumably to send it to Tony.
Vision lifts off with the boy in his arms – he's had some practice with Clint's kids and Clint himself, the big baby (and Tony but this is a secret.) Evelyn seem content. Vision has already realized it makes the boy happier to hear his voice, JARVIS' voice, it's probably the familiarity of it, so he talks, voice hushed. Right now it doesn't matter what he is saying (he hasn't been born yesterday, it was a week ago now, so he's already started to understand.)
Even though technically he isn't human, he might indulge himself with some human weaknesses, from time to time. That's where Ultron was wrong: humans are not always bad.
In fact, looking away from the boy in his arms and outside of the big window at New York in midday rush, he thinks they can be quite cool.
(Thank you very much, Tony, for the vocabulary.)
A/N: Thank you for reading! It was a great challenge to write Vision, I hope you enjoyed. Feedback is always very very welcome :)