Who: Harley and Wande What: A therapy session When: Recently Where: Harley's office Rating: PG-13 Warnings: traumatic dream discussions and fears
Out of the recommended doctors, knowing that Dr Quinn could pencil her in for an appointment the very next day was very warming. Wanda managed to get time off from her classes, explaining to her professor that she was meeting with a therapist meant that she was able to get the class notes so that she could catch up at home.
She was a little nervous about the session, not entirely sure where she’d even start about things. The last time she’d seen a therapist had been after her rehabilitation for the bombing.
The best thing was that she didn’t need to talk around circles about the dreams, and it sounded like maybe Dr Quinn would understand more than most about her concerns for her dream route. Wanda didn’t want to be a bad person, the notion that her dream self was exactly that was almost anxiety inducing.
So Wanda was early, waiting for her turn, and trying not to pick at her nailbeds.
---
When meeting a new client, Harley always tried to walk the fine line between who she was, and looking like a respected psychiatrist. Then she adjusted her look around patients from there. So she went with her usual subdued black pencil skirt and white blouse, her currently red/black/pink/white striped dyed hair pulled up into a bun.
She adjusted her glasses, opened the door and peered out. “Wanda? Why don’t you come in and have a seat anywhere you like.”
Harley’s office had the usual desk for working at, as well as a variety of couches, chairs and recliners. There were even beanbag chairs. Whatever made someone comfortable, she could adjust to.
---
Beanbags were still a bit of a mystery to Wanda -did one sit in them? Slouch? Was there a method to extract yourself from them without looking like a child? She’d yet to discover the answer to any of those questions, so settled on one of the seats, a small and comfortable couch, crossing her palms over her lap.
“Thank you for seeing me at such short notice.” Even though she’d said it before, she wanted to make sure Dr Quinn knew she was grateful.
---
Harley took a seat across from Wanda, making sure to appear as casual as possible. She wanted her patient to be comfortable. If Wanda was comfortable, she’d be more willing to talk, and talking through her situation could make her feel better, as well as give Harley a place to start.
“It’s no problem,” she replied, falling into her friendly voice, with just a little bit of her New Jersey accent slipping through. “That’s what I’m here for. To listen, to talk. Whatever it is you need.”
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It was a slightly different set up from when she’d been in the hospital after the bombing, her physical therapy had gone hand in hand with a little bit of occupational therapy for dealing with the explosions, and Wanda knew it was them looking for signs of any post traumatic stress disorder, and while she’d had a few issues, they were largely dealt with.
“Right, um, I’m not entirely sure where I should start.” Thankfully, she didn’t need to work herself around the dreams, but she couldn’t work out if she needed to start with real life or dream life. “I mean, I don’t know if my problems are all dream related, or if parts of my past are the real issue.”
---
Harley never thought things were entirely dealt with. Her own PTSD could flare up on occasion, though she dealt with it in unique ways.
“Usually, in my experience, the dream issues and one’s past are intertwined,” Harley said. “So why don’t you start with what’s at the front of your mind and we can work back from there?”
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The front of her mind wasn’t even that clear, honestly speaking. But she figured trying to make sense of it would possibly help, “In my dreams, my home is something of a warzone, and in a bid to help, my brother and I agreed to be experimented on, to make us… something better.”
She couldn’t tell for sure, but she didn’t think that the doctors had the best intentions with what they were doing, but the dreams were so complex, and Wanda knew how filled with rage and hate her counterpart was. “And while I cannot feel what it was they did, but I can feel the effects, the residual, it’s just humming under my skin. And that frightens me.”
She wasn’t sure if she should try to sleep less, if that could keep the dreams at bay, stop the continuing build in these abilities she was showing signs of. “I’m uncertain of how do cope with them.”
---
Inwardly, Harley grimaced. In her experience volunteering to be experimented on never ended well for the test subject, because most of the time the experimenters had less than savory motivations.
Outwardly, she kept a calm, cool face, nodding as Wanda spoke to let her know she was listening. “You’re afraid that this power they’re putting in ya will explode here, in the waking world.”
And yet, Harley could offer no real comfort, only empathy. “It’s possible. The dreams can affect us in all kinds of ways, but it can be adapted to. Let me show you.”
She pulled out a handkerchief, and started wiping at her face, revealing that she wasn’t just pale, but with the makeup removed her skin was as white as a sheet of paper. “I got thrown into a vat of chemicals, an’ it changed me when I woke up. I know it isn’t the same, but I do understand.”
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Explode was probably the right word for it, given what Wanda had seen herself do with these powers. It was like she could feel the red mist crawling over her peripheral vision, ebbing into her vision to just sink into her mind. Which was scary enough without the hint of whispers too.
She watched as Dr Quinn removed the make up from her face -which Wanda had thought was just a natural appearance, not that the ‘natural’ appearance was Dr Quinn’s make up. “Oh,” It was a curious thing to suffer, although it wasn’t take much different from the people who talked about turning different colours as their dreams were about things like being an alien or something other.
It wasn’t much different from Wanda obtaining odd mental powers. “That is so terrible. The vat of chemicals, I mean, not the white skin.” Honestly the white skin was probably not as bad as a vat of chemicals could’ve been -and Wanda would know, because, science. But it was still pretty messed up.
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“I asked for it,” Harley said, softly but bluntly. “He wasn’t a good man an’ he got into my head. I did a lot of bad things for him and because of him. It took a long time for me to realize I wasn’t a bad person, that I could do good and make up for my crimes. That’s why I believe anyone can change and become better.”
Well, almost anyone, she seriously doubted Mistah J had it in him for that. “And that applies to you too.”
---
Mind games seemed to be a common thing, and Wanda didn’t believe that she and Pietro would’ve been just as dangerous had HYDRA not gotten into their heads, hadn’t twisted things to the point of she and her brother being driven purely by a need to be something powerful, just to hit back.
They’d probably have been run of the mill eco-activists without HYDRA stepping in. But she could see now, from the outside, that HYDRA orchestrated so much to play into that. “How do you reconcile the things you did with him? The things you believed, at the time, were the right thing to do?” Wanda might know, looking outwards, from her perspective, what her counterpart was doing, was choosing, was wrong.
The people she hurt with her mind tricks, just learning how to use them, she was hurting innocent people in a way she was trying to protect them from. Because HYDRA was training her to be ready to take on the Avengers. To take down Stark.
“I feel responsible for what I do. Even when I know it’s not me, and I understand that it’s not what I would do.”
---
Harley never wanted to imagine what the Joker could have done with someone like Wanda. The Bat wouldn't have stood a chance. Or maybe, on second thought, he could have. There'd been times when she'd seen the empathy in his eyes, and all the times he'd tried to reach out. The way he treated the criminals he brought it, it was like he understood how so many of them were messed up and what they really needed was treatment.
She was almost certain she would have been a lot worse off without someone like that as an enemy, and she hoped that if there was someone Wanda would fight, they would be as helpful and sympathetic as Batman could be.
Exhaling after a brief moment's thought, Harley answered, "I have to acknowledge that I was sick. That he played on my mental illnesses and twisted my own wants and needs to match his. But the me in the dreams is still responsible for her actions, an' she has to try hard to find ways to make up for that. In my dreams, I sorta become a hero. Maybe not the best role model in the world but sometimes all you have to do is try."
Harley tapped her pen against her lip. "Here... I got away from him sooner, before he could make me hurt other people instead of just myself. But I still..." And she gestured between them. "I still try to pay it forward. I want to help people, that's why I'm in this field. It’s natural to feel responsible because the dreams feel so real and they… are kinda real. And that’s a unique challenge we have here in the OC and I think we’re all still trying to figure it out. All I can suggest is accept the dreams and know you don’t have to be that person if you really don’t want to be her."
---
Acceptance was something that she was hearing a fair amount, and in some ways, that was possibly the only way forward. It was like she told Hayley, they weren’t what they dreamed. That was the most important thing to remember, while Wanda felt and experienced things like her dream counterpart, they weren’t the same person, and what she did wasn’t who Wanda had to be.
She chewed at her lip as she listened to Harley, understanding most of her advice came from, realising that it wasn’t like she had to carry that through her own life. The main issue that Wanda would have would be controlling these abilities. If they continued to bleed over, the way that Harley’s skin change had come over, then Wanda would definitely need to figure out how to get things under control.
“Perhaps… perhaps knowing that there’s a difference, between what we do for the wrong reasons, with the only intentions we know to be right…” Wanda chose what she did to help people, Harley might’ve been a little more manipulated in her own world, but it seemed like she was twisted into believing wrong was right and vice versa. “Maybe those kind of heroes are the ones other people can relate to?”
After all, people like Captain America were true and virtuous. People like her and Harley, they were flawed and complicated, but they chose the right thing when it was the harder thing to do.
---
“Maybe,” Harley said, her smile genuine, if a little lopsided. There were differences between heroes in her world, too. Superman the virtuous and then there was the Bat, who was likely as messed up as she was, but with his heart in the right place…
“It’s nice to think that the people we look up to are also human and can also make mistakes. That goes for a superhero, and for the regular heroes too.”
---
If the dreams held true to life, if the people she met here were the same as in the dreams, in that way, she could understand it.
Her dream self detested the mere thought of Tony Stark, whereas she knew he was a well meaning man, a brilliant if fallible man. Someone who tried to do things right, and she hoped that was what he was in the dreams, that her perspective was just somewhat blurred because of her experiences. “It is, because we are all capable of these things, aren’t we?” She just needed to remember that, she needed to hold on to that.
Remember that she wasn’t what her dream self might become. Evil or not, she still had the chance to do something better herself.
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“Yes. We’re all capable of good things and bad things. The capability is in equal measure but most people lean one way or the other. Usually good. I truly believe most people are good.” Harley knew, deep in her heart, that Wanda was a good person. The fact that she questioned the idea of her goodness was a huge sign in that direction.
Harley shifted in her seat, knowing at least one other concern of Wanda’s would be something she couldn’t personally address. “Now, I can’t help you with the powers you dream of, when they come. I can give you the tools you need for your mind. I know with some people it’s all about willpower in the controlling. But I think I’m gonna have to direct you to a few other people for training and practice. Cuz that’ll be the only way to keep control.”
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Wanda couldn’t be more worried about the things that she might be responsible for eventually, the things the dreams might show her, how it might change her. But she felt that maybe, more than ever, Dr Quinn might be more suited to helping than would’ve been possible outside of knowing the dreams.
But her powers were something else. “I’m not sure how I feel about using them.” Her powers were mind altering, they brought forth people’s deepest and darkest fears, the things that scared even the most dangerous of people. She knew that HYDRA had plans for her powers, and being that they were most certainly not the good guys, it didn’t bode well. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
Which was exactly what her powers were made for.
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“No, you don’t want to hurt anyone, which is a good first step.” Harley rubbed her chin. “There’s an old sayin’ in super hero circles. With great power comes great responsibility.”
Okay so she was crossing her canon but the fourth wall didn’t actually exist for her so it was totally okay and she barely managed to avoid saying that sentence out loud.
“Cuz uncontrolled it could hurt people. But also, what if you were in a situation where somethin’ bad was happening and you could help, maybe even save lives, but you don’t? Out of fear, or self-loathing, or whatever?”
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Biting her lip, Wanda had to consider that. She’d already seen what happened in Orange County, between being tied to Hayley and the dragon that burned so much of the county and the damage around that. Her powers might be dangerous in nature, but that also meant they were dangerous to the people and things that attacked.
If she focused on using her telekinetic powers, the ones that didn’t involve entering people’s minds, playing with their fears, maybe she could get some control on her power. It was the fear she didn’t want to tinker with, minds she didn’t want to hurt.
“That’s… I would want to help, to protect people.” And Harley was right, if she didn’t know how to use her powers properly, she could accidentally hurt someone she didn’t mean to. “I should learn how to use them, shouldn’t I?”
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“Protectin’ people is probably one of the best things you could do,” Harley agreed. “I think you should try, if for no other reason than your own well being. Just the act of wrestling control for yourself can be a powerful thing.”
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Self empowerment, she could see how that worked, how it would be helpful to have that self of self, knowing that you weren’t a slave to something you had to live with. “You’re right, it would be best.”
If she could use what HYDRA had done to her, use it in a way that they would’ve never looked for her to do, to protect people that their plots would’ve hurt, then maybe it could remove some of the stain on her soul to know that she wasn’t just the weapon they created.
“At least I know what to do with myself while dealing with this.”
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“One more thing,” Harley said, adjusting her glasses. “Remember through all of this to give youself moments of leisure an’ fun. Because you deserve it, and it’ll make it a lot easier to get through.”
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Fun. Leisure. Taking something for herself. That would be a proper battle. “I can promise to try?” And it was fair to say that Wanda did at least take some time to herself, she enjoyed time with Padme and hanging out with Peter and school.
“I will let you know how I do next time?” Although, if her dreams got too serious, she’d probably use ‘fun’ as a distraction tool.