[part of her was hoping that it wouldn't come down to this reflective honesty of the worst kind. doctor strange had always been careful around her, but he had generally been kind, treated her with respect despite her wrongdoings and mistakes. it is all the things she would expect to hear from the government officials that tried putting a leash on her—ross, hayward. it's what she would expect to hear from tony stark.

wanda stops, stands back, hurt by his words more than she wants to admit.]

I thought you were different.

[when her words escape her lips, they sound wet, like she's living up to that 'emotional' label doctor strange has so easily placed upon her. perhaps, upon the realization that her powers weren't altogether there, her mood erratic, she had come here with the expectation of receiving his help.

he was a doctor after all, right?]

As if you're so levelheaded at all times?

[strings of scarlet have pulled from the threads of doctor strange's consciousness in the horizon; overlapping over barely-there memories, carefully creating a narrative. it displays as if from a projector, onto the skylight, sheer in color. spells gone wrong in kamar-taj, the green of the time stone circling his arms, portals that barely swirled to life.]

—what makes you less dangerous? You care for the world, but do you care for the actual people in it?