Garrison and Wanda

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

Disturbed by her encounter with the Baron, Wanda somehow makes her way to Garrison for a shoulder to lean on and help picking up the pieces.



When she reached the door to Garrison's suite in the mansion, Wanda leaned her forehead against the wood of the door as she struggled to catch her breath. It was late and she really hoped he'd gotten her message - it was either that or she'd be forced to wander down to Jean's suite. And while that wasn't bad, it wasn't who she wanted to see at the moment. How she'd gotten to the mansion was actually a bit of a blur - she'd just gotten back from Muir, the land of scary Scottish doctors. Beyond some catnaps, she hadn't slept very much; though, honestly, she hadn't slept very well, overall, since this nightmare had started some months ago.

Everyone was scattered and she hadn't wanted to impose on anyone else's well-deserved rest, especially with Remy or Ororo still overseas, as they pieced themselves back together. She'd listened to Amanda and had tried to sleep in her apartment but she'd woken up several times gagging from nightmares and unable to get comfortable alone in the dark. There had been plenty of times in her past where she hadn't gotten the upper hand in a fight but, Wanda had to admit as she gently rapped on the door with her good hand, the fight with the Baron had to rank among the worst.

Physically, emotionally and mentally.

"Hell-- oh. Wanda. Wanda? What the heck-" Kane paused as he took in the exhausted expression, the multiple bandages and casts, and the look of near collapse. "OK, get in here before you pass out on your feet."

"It might be as bad as it looks," she admitted, stumbling in as Garrison threw the door open wider for her. Wanda managed to find the couch before her legs decided to go south and she carefully slumped down on the nearest seat. It hurt to talk with the fractured cheekbone but there wasn't much they could do for that one besides let it heal on it's own.

"Geez, lady. What did I tell you about leading with your face." he eased he back on the couch and captured the bottle of booze, mixing it with the pot of coffee he had on. "Wanda, have you seen a doctor?"

Relaxing back against the cushions, she rubbed her forehead and tried to give him a reassuring smile. It ... probably wasn't as reassuring as she'd hoped it was. "I have, I promise. There was a scary doctor involved. I dislike them but -" Wanda glanced down at her arm and grimaced. "Compound fractures in several fingers convinced me a visit was in order."

"I'd imagine so." He poured her a cup of the laced coffee and passed it over before grabbing a seat. "Somebody went to work on you. They got a name?"

Cupping the coffee carefully in her hand, Wanda leaned forward and almost put her nose in it. She breathed deeply and let the smell of roasted beans and alcohol waft over her. When she sat back, there was a little more color in her cheeks than there had been in a few days. "He does indeed." She filled Garrison in on what she could, noting that they had gotten Remy back, and ending with her encounter with the Baron. "I - Garrison, I have fought a lot of very bad men in my day but there was something about this man ..."

She grimaced as the memory surfaced of that bloodied kiss.

"The guy is a dripping bloody skull face and you think there's something twisted with him?" Kane said with a low whistle. "I'm not going to suggest I have any deep insight, but it sounds like you ran up against something from the deep end of the crazy pool. It's silly not to think that's going to effect you. DiMano, this old detective I used to work under out in Vancouver used to talk about this case he had; Thai human smuggling ring. Nasty shit. They got close, and the fuckers decided to six all their 'cargo' and run. DiMano was the first through the door and found them. Fourteen people, half of them kids, chopped into and discarded like the floor of a slaughter house. Next case, DiMano nearly killed a suspect with his bare hands - needed six months of psych leave before he could come back on the job. His point was that the worse it is you experience, the more you have to accept that it splashes back on you. The key is to accept that and find a way to drain it away before it becomes part of you for good."

Wanda's head had fallen back against the couch as Garrison had talked and she was unusually quiet - even for a woman with a broken cheekbone - for long moments afterward as she tried to process. Well. Everything. Everything he said and did not say and what she was feeling. She sucked in a long breath, let it fill up in her lungs until she thought she'd burst before she let it back out and before she responded.

"Have you ever wondered if you cannot drain the awful experiences from yourself because you cannot? Because you were twisted and dark inside even before that and you are simply waiting for a breaking point?" Wanda frowned down at her coffee and then up at Garrison. "I have spent my life trying to prove to myself, and possibly others, that I am not Magneto's daughter. That I am not simply a product of another creature that may or may not be a 'God'. How much of this can I absorb without becoming something worse?"

"I think that the difference is the people around you. It's easy to be evil when no one cares, or supports it. Harder to do when there's help to stop it." Kane paused and took a sip. "Plus, you ever go down your father's path, I'll personal track you down and put you in jail until you come to your senses."
She snorted with laughter and almost spilled her coffee before she finally gave it up and set it on the coffee table. "Ow," Wanda said, smiling though, as she cradled her arm. "I appreciate that. You have my permission and my blessing to kick my ass until I stop thinking I am a super-villain."

"you might be your fathers daughter, but you're nothing like him. You fight for people who can't fight for themselves. He fights for himself. " Kane grinned. "The methods are different, but you're not much different than the X-Men. Or a cop ."

"That was a low blow! I am nothing like a cop - though I do quite enjoy the handcuffs they seem to always come with ..."

"Bullshit. You're the first to throw yourself on the line for people who you don't know. You work for crap money and little recognition. Hell, all you need is the uniform and you could be walking a beat in SoHo tomorrow." Kane said, smiling. "Seriously, I know you're not a rules and regulations kind of girl. It's just that the motivation is basically the same, and it's certainly not anything like your father's."

Wanda had to smile slightly at the mental image of the once ragged Gypsy girl dressed up in police officer blue. "Did you know that when I was younger, I had wanted to be police? Ironic, really, considering the fact that I ran from them more often than ran to them those days." And these days, too, sometimes. "Funny how things turned out. And you did not hear it from me but the nightmares, the pain, all of it. It is worth it. I just ... have to remind myself of that when things are this bad."

"There's a lot of different ways to go about it, but I think something that ties good people together is the idea of justice. That people shouldn't get away with fucking with others whenever they feel like it. It's just the methods that differ." Garrison took a long swallow of his coffee. "Well, differ a whole hell of a lot, to be honest. But, in the end, I think we've got the same goal, and that's important to remember."

Reclaiming her cooling coffee, Wanda resettled on the couch with a wince. Her medication was starting to wear off - she'd been surviving on adrenaline for so long that it was hard to let herself let it go. "We have seen so much pain in our pursuit of justice." And inflicted it. "I think that is why we remain around one another - to some degree, we all understand. Even when we want to kill each other, we still understand."

"Ah, vigilante codependence." Kane grinned. "I wonder if we should start one of those support groups?"

"Oh, goodness, I can just imagine one of those meetings in full swing ... it, of course, would be hosted at Harry's."

"Hello, my name is Garrison and I'm an unstable danger addicted bastard."

Chuckling, she leaned her shoulder against his and let the exhaustion wash over her in a way that wasn't all bad. "Hello, Garrison," Wanda intoned before she tilted her head far enough to allow her to brush a kiss on his cheek. "And thank you."

"Thats what I'm here for; moral support and kisses from pretty women."