Without heavy sedatives her sleep was plagued with nightmares. She twitched and groaned, tossed her head from side to side, and then awoke with a start and a sharp intake of breath. Wanda's breathing was labored as her eyes rolled with fear that intensified when she saw Wicked. She jerked her hand away as if scalded and then pressed her fingers to her face, bowing her head and trying to get herself under control.
"I didn't expect to see you," she finally said quietly, her voice muffled by her hands, and when she lowered them she shot Wicked an uneasy look, afraid and ashamed of what she didn't know. What she could remember of their last encounter wasn't good. It had taken a lot of horror that she did remember and her own demands to coax Jessica and Tony into hurting her. Wanda didn't even want to imagine what she'd done that she couldn't remember that earned a gun in her face and a threat to her life after she'd gone to Wicked for help. It must have been something terrible.