Vision sat on a couch in the common room, reading.

All told, those were two activities that he really had no need of doing. His muscles did not tire like the organic ones of his friends, so sitting was really rather superfluous, and he could ingest information much more quickly by accessing it through the internet than processing the words in front of him on a screen.

But Mr. Stark had finally gotten the IrDA receivers to work on all the HQ's pertinent devices, and Vision felt it would be unkind to let the gesture go unappreciated; and besides, he enjoyed the occasional shared activity with his teammates.

It was in that spirit, after all, that he'd decided to express his own humanity by manifesting clothes of his own tastes; but he did not, and would not—unless it were necessary for a mission—do anything to disguise his magenta skin.

It was the Sergeant who happened to be seated on the adjacent couch that afternoon, a traditional paperback book in his hand rather than a StarkPad. They mutually paid each other little mind and enjoyed the quiet of the shared activity until Vision noticed motion at the corner of his eye.

Pietro had been rummaging in the nearby kitchenette, making some sort of sandwiches, but he had suddenly become very quiet, and circled around behind Bucky with the tube of the paper towel roll that he had presumably just emptied.

Vision caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. Pietro raised a finger to his lips, grinning. Bucky was apparently engrossed in his book and hadn't noticed.

As Vision watched in bemusement, Pietro blew gently through the tube, so that the slight breeze just barely moved a few strands of Bucky's hair. The older man blinked and frowned slightly, but didn't react otherwise.

Pietro repeated this again, and then once more, until Bucky got suspicious and turned around.

Pietro blew a raspberry down the tube and right into his face.

Bucky jumped and hollered in surprise. Pietro cackled and was out of the room in a flash, but not before Bucky had yanked the tube out of his hand and leaped over the couch to chase him down the hall with it, grinning and yelling in Sokovian at the top of his lungs.

Vision didn't laugh aloud at the scene, but he did find himself fighting to temper a smile. Mr. Stark entered from another hall and peered curiously towards the noise, then made a face and headed for the coffee maker.

He had just poured himself a mug, and Vision had stopped paying any attention, when he suddenly asked, "Did you raid somebody's closet?"

Vision looked up from the StarkPad, caught slightly off-guard. "Ah, no." He smoothed his hand down over the front of the dark knit sweater. "I...made these."

"Huh." Mr. Stark paused to think it over, then stepped forward, sipping on his coffee, to get a closer look. He rubbed the hem of Vision's sleeve between his thumb and forefinger and began to ramble, "Different aspect of the mass manipulation, changing it into different substances, now that's something I didn't think of.

"How are you doing that?" he added, straightening up and pointing. "Changing molecules, adding or subtracting electrons? It's incredible." He took another sip.

Vision was mildly confused. "I don't know how it happens on the microscopic level," he admitted, "but I just...thought them up."

"Hm." Mr. Stark stepped back and put his hand in the pocket of his jeans, looking the outfit over. "Kinda nerd chic, with the knit sweater. A little formal. But you know what?" He pointed with the mug, then returned it to his chest as he tipped his head. "Really works for you."

Vision was unsure what to make of any of that except the compliment at the end. "Thank...you?"

"Oh, you're welcome." Mr. Stark raised the mug to his lips again, then paused when a thought seemed to hit him. "You sure you don't want to get back with Wanda?"

"Oh, no, I'm..." He hesitated. He had no desire for Mr. Stark to think any less of him—much less to appear high and mighty over his predecessor's past—but he wanted desperately to be honest about who he was, and hopefully, to be respected for it. "I don't," he answered slowly, "think I'm interested in that sort of thing."

Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow. Then, he shrugged. "All right. Different strokes for different folks. Not sure I could do without personally, but you do you." He paused for a moment, looking awkward, then finally said, "Good talk."

He walked away, sipping his coffee.

Vision realized that he'd been sitting ramrod straight through the entire conversation, and allowed himself to relax into the couch with a smile. Perhaps, if there were no other choice, it really would be preferable for one to be hated than to be loved for what one was not—but he was fortunate, beyond fortunate, to be known, accepted, and loved for what he was.

Something entirely unique, and entirely new: the Vision.

He went back to his reading.

THE END

A/N: Told ya I was having Bucky withdrawals. Anyway, Tony! Being accepted by your pseudo dad/grandpa! Tony's relation to Vision is confusing.

Oh, I forgot to mention it in the first chapter, but IrDA is a real thing. Unfortunately, I only understand it so far as I could comprehend the Wikipedia page, so anyone with more knowledge about turn-of-the-century hardware can feel free to correct me.

I hope it should be obvious, but I have nothing against ScarletVision! It's clearly canon in the comics, and Wanda and Vision are adorable together, which is why I wanted them to stay friends here. If that's your ship, good for you! But it's not the ship I sail.

(Everyone: Order your WinterWitch is showing

Me: shhhh)

In case you needed to hear it: You are enough. Life is about becoming the best person you can be, and it's a journey that you can't shortcut by finding another person to "complete" you. If you find someone you love very much and want to continue your journeys together, good. But if you don't, even better. People lift each other up and help each other best when they act as the complete persons that they are, helping to build up other complete people.

That's it! I hope you enjoyed the story. Reviews are something entirely unique and entirely new.