Give him back to me, or so help me god

Chapter 8: The Rescue

"What?" Clint breathed.

"The Raft was a bonded Titanium-alloy. The hull doors almost a hundred tonnes each. It would not break under any conditions it would naturally come across in that area of the Atlantic." Vision answered without emphasis – without anything at all. His eyes, like the other's had been focused in on the lab – but unlike the other's he seemed to be watching the screens, like Tony, taking in every line that crossed them. "The wearing on the rotary on the hull doors – but lack thereof on the doors themselves – shows that they were forced open under great duress but no physical damage was inflicted." He went on. "The pressure gauges also recorded that that pressure shifted as the Raft sunk – as if it had risen before falling – inexplicably."

"She lifted that thing!?" The pure astonishment in Sam's voice was mirrored in the stunned expressions all around him.

"Perhaps." Vision nodded, his eyes finally falling from the screens inside the lab. They dropped to the floor, and his shoulders followed. "It is the only possible explanation I can think of that fits the damage."

"This thing is thousands of tonnes of metal – she could barely lift a car in Sokovia." Bruce said, disbelief clouding every word.

"She managed to throw a few in Germany." Sam countered.

"Indeed." Vision said. His eyes remained fix on the floor. "And her power has grown since then." He suddenly seemed just as tired as the rest of them. "Exponentially."

There was a brief silence as tried – and likely failed – to process that.

"How do you know that?" Steve finally asked – his brain spinning with enough questions to make him feel slightly nauseous again.

Vision's hesitation was brief, but unmistakable.

"I feel it." He breathed. One hand twitched upwards, a shaking finger trailing along the stone in his dipped forehead. "I feel her."

"And what do you feel now?" Steve asked, his breath catching in his chest, because he knew the answer that was coming. Could see it in every line of Vision's exhausted frame.

"Nothing." Vision murmured. "I have felt nothing since the Raft was reported lost."

The words were followed by another silence.

Rhodey broke it. "You knew she was there." The words were not a question, but Vision answered none the less.

"I did." He said. "I did not believe it would assist the situation to fear for two over one. There was nothing more that we could do-" Those eyes, which had been so firmly fixed on the floor that Steve was shocked he hadn't burned a hole through it yet, slid closed. "And I was hesitant to reveal her part in fear of repercussions." The hand that had risen to run a finger over the stone in his forehead did so again – lingering there. "It is no secret that the Accords were crafted in fear of her." The hand slid down from his hand to rest against his chest – closing into a fist above where his heart would be, if he had one. And Steve, in that moment, was sure that even without the organ Vision was drowning that pain that emanated there, threatening to swallow him. Just like the rest of them. "I did not want to loose her again."

The next silence was longer. Harder.

"Is she dead?"

Steve didn't know who asked – it might have been him for all the awareness he had at the moment – but it didn't really matter. The answer was all that mattered. And it was crippling.
"I do not know."

Sam's arms tightened around his chest – so tight now that they had to be serving a serious risk to his very real need to keep breathing.

"If she lifted it, maybe they got out?" He argued.