Wanda realised it was psychological that sitting by him (no, sitting on his lap) and feeling him so close made her feel better. She was injured and his touch wasn't healing, but she felt safer which gave her some mental rest. And his presence diverted attention from pain. His touches were gentle, in such contrast to the actions that had given her the bruises and cuts.
She listened to him speak, leaning back into him and simply thinking on it. Wanda couldn't completely argue against those words. How he coped wasn't how the majority of the populace would term to be coping. "I know everyone copes differently. But it's also good to know you do cope. What I've gone through isn't-- Well, it's not the worst the world has to offer. And today was hardly anything compared to some days. You're coping mechanisms are your own. But it's nice knowing everyone copes in their own way, that there's no, uhm, right way about it."
How he coped was up to him. It wasn't something she would pry into right now. She recognised some of the methods, simply from observation. When you were around someone so often it was harder not to pick up on things. Though Wanda supposed the fact she cared for him meant it was important to her, in a way. He was used to pure survival. She wasn't used to it in the same way but she had purely acted for the sake of survival before. When her adoptive parents died, when it was just her and her brother, they had fled. They'd stolen, they'd fought, they'd hid. They did almost all they could in order to survive. It wasn't always nice. It certainly wasn't healthy. But sometimes simply living was the best and only thing you could do.
Wanda's hand reached for his, not taking it but letting her fingers softly roam his skin. Across one finger, to the next... Idle movements, but she gained some comfort from the touch.
Her movements froze when he spoke up though, eyes narrowing questioningly at his words. He knew? Wanda listened, not bothering to hide her emotions in his presence. If he asked how she felt, she'd no intention of lying to him, so why waste energy hiding her expressions? Besides, it was mostly a mix of mild confusion and curiosity - with a nice amount of annoyance as well. A.I.M. was something she had heard of before. Not in any level of depth, but it meant when he explained that she understood. And it did make sense. An organisation like that wouldn't hesitate to design weapons like this with no care for how they were used.
Silence fell for a moment as she thought on his words. It was hard to answer, because was there one single answer to this question? "Why?" she repeated, before sighing softly. Her hand that had rested on his went to her head, fingers rubbing her temple gently. Wanda could hazard a guess, but that would be it. "Because I'm a weapon, too, I suppose. Ah, I mean--" She tried to think of how to answer this, and found some focus when she decided to look properly at him. "I don't think my ego is that big that I think I'm unstoppable or the most important person out there. But what I can do isn't exactly cheap parlour tricks. It's... It's reality altering. It's chaotic." And as far as she knew, there was no end to it. She felt tired when she used her powers, but with each training session or actual fight her stamina built. And frankly, Wanda was only scratching the surface of what she could do. She held her hand out, a swirl of red mist around her fingers. Dancing wisps of soft light.
"I'm a witch. And a mutant. And, oh, I don't know what else. It's all just labels. What it adds up to is being able to alter probabilities with the flick of a wrist, cast spells, and alter reality. ...The casting spells part is a work in progress. That sort of thing needs to be taught, and much as I never actually attended a school I don't think it's on the regular curriculum. There's plenty of magic users out there - sorcerers and warlocks. But my magic is innate. It's part of me. Chaos magic. Fun name, isn't it? It just means old." Also powerful. And linked to an ancient god. Evil god. That was attached to her. Maybe. Well, hopefully he didn't ask further questions yet, she didn't have any answers to her own questions about herself.
Essentially, she was a problem. And didn't it make sense to eradicate the problem? She'd already shown she wasn't on their side.
"Actually, it's all a work in progress." Her voice glum for a moment. Power was hard to control, and until recently she had feared what she could do. Fear meant instability and therefore she was involved in plenty of accidents. "Sounds ridiculous to say it out loud. Witches and mutants and weapons, oh my. Like a book."
As she spoke, her gaze had fallen from his. She ran a tongue softly over her lips, then looked back to him. "I can fight." Simply stated. But it was followed with, "I can fight. But I'm no expert. I tend to rely on my power. Which..." A little twitch under one eye, looking at her hands now in her laps. "Which I suppose could be taken away. Silly."
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