Captain Carter's Therapy Session 1

TWO DAYS LATER

PEGGY

I sighed as I flipped idly through a magazine in the therapist’s office. Apparently his current session was running over a bit, so I got to sit in a bland looking room with nothing but months old magazines and a strangely gorgeous receptionist for company. Seeing as how I was hardly interested in dating at the moment (or women) I spent my time with the magazines.

Eventually, the door to his office opened, and another strangely attractive woman left. Her mascara was running, and she kept fixing her disheveled looking outfit.

So, he’s been dealing with a crier. I thought to myself. That explains the session going over.

The receptionist flashed me a smile. Her teeth were perfect, but the smile didn’t quite seem to reach her eyes.

“The doctor will see you now.” She said.

I got up, nodded to her, and headed into the office.

Doctor Manning, as he called himself, kept a clean but almost sterile office. It was comfortable and it did the job well enough, but there was only the barest hint of warmth to any of it. It felt almost staged in some way. As if the room itself had only recently sprung into existence.

I shook my head. It’s paranoid thoughts like that aren’t going to get you a clean bill of mental health, Carter. I told myself.

The doctor himself was sitting behind a desk near the window. He was a short, balding, overweight little man. His face looked sweaty, almost greasy, and there was a set of half frame glasses resting across his swine-like nose. He looked… familiar somehow, though I couldn’t quite place him.

“Ah, the famous Captain Peggy Carter!” He rose and offered his hand. “A pleasure.”

I took his hand and shook it. It was warm and sweaty.

“And you must be Doctor Manning.” I said, offering the friendliest smile I could manage.

“Please, call me Gerry.” He said with a smile.

“I'll stick to Doctor Manning.” I said, taking my seat.

Gerry looked like he was about to return to his own chair when he paused. “Actually, Captain, do me a favor and close the door, would you? Seems you forgot to on your way in.”

I frowned and looked over my shoulder at the door. It was hanging ajar. I could’ve sworn I’d closed it behind me when I walked in though.

“Yes. Yes of course.” I said, getting to my feet and closing the door. (PEGGY: +1SP)(-16SP)

“Oh, and while you’re up, could you fetch me my mug from off of that table over there? I’m afraid I left it there during my last session.”

I paused, a little annoyed that he didn’t just get up and get the water himself, but made my way over to the small table where his water was and picked it up. (PEGGY: +2SP)(-14SP)

“Here you are, Doctor.” I said, handing the glass off to him.

“Thank you.” He said, taking a big sip. “You know, I was quite surprised when I learned that you would be the one coming to visit me today, Captain Carter. I never imagined that a woman like you would ever be in need of my services.”

“Yes, well, that’s something that you and I have in common, Doctor.” I said, still not quite believing the situation that I now found myself in.

“Please, call me Gerry.” The doctor insisted. “And I suppose we should both learn then, that such issues can affect anyone, even someone as strong as you, Captain Carter.”

“Right.” I nodded stiffly. “And what issues exactly are we talking about?”

“Well, it could be any number of things.” The Doctor plucked his glasses off and started wiping them with a handkerchief. “Could be something as minor to stress manifesting in odd ways, to something as serious as a psychotic episode due to a personality disorder.”

“Psychotic episode?! You’re bloody joking, right?!” I snapped, louder than I intended.

To the Doctor’s credit, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he calmly placed his glasses back onto his face and regarded me seriously.

“I can’t discount anything.” He said. “If this is something minor and you’re just overworking yourself, then that’s simple enough to work though. But if it is more serious, then we need to address that as well. Leaving something like that to build and simmer can lead to serious repercussions, and I don’t think either of us want that to happen, now do we?”

I thought about it. I had been really bloody angry when I’d gone to see Hill the other day. We’d both been aware that I was a hair's breadth away from just breaking things in her office. If I got that angry again around civilians…

“No.” I admitted. “No, we don’t.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Why don’t we start with the incident that led to you seeing me here today. I received a heavily redacted report outlining the episode, but I’d like to hear it straight from you.”

“There are some… classified bits of information from that day that I cannot disclose.”

“That’s fine.” He said. “I’m not interested in state secrets or information on the next supervillain fight, just the details that pertain to the incident.”

“Okay.” I said, taking a deep breath. “It started like this…”

And I told him everything. The strange message I received from Hill that morning, my trip to the dry cleaners, visiting Hill’s office and learning that she knew nothing about the messages I’d received, even my visit to the SHIELD therapist that led me here to his office. The only thing I left out of the story was any information relating to the mole.

Doctor Manning nodded along with everything that I said, occasionally taking notes, and interjecting with questions when he needed something clarified. When I finished, he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

“Tell me about this dry cleaner that you went to, have you ever gone to it before?” He asked.

“Of course not.” I said. “I’ve passed by it plenty of times when I go out, but that’s about it.”

“Really? You pass by it often?” Manning made another little note.

“Yes.” I said. “It’s on my path when I go jogging.”

“Interesting.”

“What are you getting at, Doctor?” My eyes narrowed.

“Call me Gerry. And right now, nothing. Merely remarking that I find that information interesting. Now, about these clothes that you picked up…”

“The fetish wear?”

“Yes, um… That.” He coughed. “There was an interesting note about it in the report that I would like to address.”

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“The fact that they seem perfectly tailored to fit you.”

I balled both of my hands up into fists. “Alright, now I know that you’re bloody getting at something.”

“I just might.” He admitted. “How would you explain that?”

“I’d say that it was a sick bloody joke.”

“A very strange one. Forgive me if it sounds crass, but are your measurements public knowledge?”

“What?!” I jumped to my feet.

“It’s the internet age, Captain. I need to rule out certain possibilities before I can diagnose you. Now, are your measurements online?”

“No! They’re bloody not!” I shouted.

Manning nodded. “That’s unfortunate.”

“How is that unfortunate?” I asked, narrowing my eyes again.

“Because according to the file that SHIELD sent me, those clothes were an exact match for you.” Manning replied calmly. “An _exac_t match, Captain Carter. From what I understand it should be very difficult to tailor clothes like that unless the exact measurements were known, or-”

“Taken before the clothes were made.” I finished. “You can’t honestly believe that those were mine?”

“I think if they belonged to someone other than you that it would be a very big coincidence.” Manning said. “They would need your exact body. And the clothes appeared to be of a rather high quality. Expensive. I couldn’t imagine someone would go to the trouble of getting custom… fetish wear made if they weren’t going to use them.”

He did have a point… On the other hand…

“So they looked like they could’ve fit me. So they looked expensive. So what?” I said, defiant. “It doesn’t mean I had them made.”

“I never said that you did.”

“But that’s what you were implying!” I snapped. “That these clothes had to have been mine, that I had them made, that I was the one who turned them in at the dry cleaners.”

“Well that’s certainly a theory.” Manning said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“But they’re not mine, Doctor!” I shouted. “I would never get these made. And I don’t give a damn what that file you’ve read says, there’s no way they could fit me. No one knows my body better than I do, and big as they clothes were, they wouldn’t have fit me!”

Manning’s mouth twitched. “Please, call me Gerry. And are you sure about that, Captain Carter? Can you tell me, unequivocally, that those… costumes didn’t belong to you?”

“Unequivocally.” I nodded.

“Then why is it that when I interviewed the owner of the dry cleaning establishment, he told me that you were the one who gave him the costumes to clean?”

My jaw dropped. “Wh-What?”

“According to the dry cleaner, you dropped off those clothes.”

“You’re lying!” I shouted. “I would never…”

I trailed off as Manning pulled a tablet from his desk and tapped the screen a few times. He turned the tablet to me and showed me some grainy security footage. I watched in horror as _I _walked in, handed those disgusting costumes off to the owner and then… and then leaned forward and started snogging him feverishly before turning around and leaving.

“That’s… I never…” I couldn’t explain it. It was me. There was no denying the footage. “It can’t… Those aren’t… They can’t be…”

“Take your time.” Manning said gently.

“This can’t be real.” I said, though there was little conviction in my voice. And there should have been. Never in all my life have I ever doubted myself. To survive in a man’s world, a woman like me always had to know, emphatically, that what she was doing was right. But now…

“I never did this…” I said, again trying to summon that confidence in my own words. “I would remember. I would know. I didn’t do this. Those aren’t… Those clothes aren’t mine…”

“It doesn’t sound like it’s me you’re trying to convince.” Manning’s words were like a bullet through my chest.

I looked at him, wanting desperately to continue denying the footage. I grasped for the self-confidence that made me the woman I am today and found that it was out of reach. I should’ve said the footage was faked. I should’ve said it was someone else in the footage. I should’ve said anything. But there was a little voice at the back of my mind that kept chanting, maybe he’s right, maybe he's right, maybe he’s right. And it just wouldn’t shut up.

And worse of all, I was starting to wonder if I should start listening to it.

“Captain…” Manning said. “I think you need to acknowledge that you might have a problem. That you might not be in full control of your faculties.”

“No. No!” I shouted in defiance of that voice in my head. “Absolutely bloody not! I don’t care if you have hours of bloody footage, I still don’t believe you! You can’t prove that I was there that day, I know who I am!”

Manning sighed. “I was really hoping that it wouldn’t come to this.” He reached down and pressed the button for the intercom on his desk. “Sherry.”

“Yes, Doctor?” A voice responded a second later.

“Could you please bring in the item I had set aside for Margaret Carter? It seems that I’ll need it.”

A minute later, the blonde receptionist came in, carrying a- Oh no… Oh please god, no… -a dry cleaning bag. A dry cleaning bag with a skimpy cheerleading uniform inside. The one that I picked up from the dry cleaners two days ago. The one that, according to Doctor Manning, belonged to me.

Sherry, the receptionist, handed the bag off to Doctor Manning, gave me a quick smile, then left the room. Which left me alone with Manning and that damned outfit.

“You say that it couldn’t have been you in that footage. Okay, perhaps the footage was doctored, I will give you that. But this…” He held up the bag. “This cannot be doctored. This is one of the articles of clothing that you retrieved from the dry cleaner during your… incident. Can you confirm that for me?”

I tried to speak, but found that I couldn’t. I nodded.

“As you said earlier, your measurements aren’t a readily available piece of information online.” Manning said. “The only people on this planet who know that information are you, and the designer of your costume. Is this correct?”

I nodded again.

“If that is the case, then this… costume should not fit you, correct?”

No, no, no, no no! You are not going to ask me what I think you’re about to ask me! I should’ve said it out loud. I should’ve shouted it with all the disgust and indignation that I could muster. I couldn’t though. That voice was getting louder.

I nodded.

“Margaret…” He paused, seemingly conflicted about what he was about to say. “I need you to try this on. There’s a bathroom through that door where you can change.” He gestured towards a door at the side of the room.

I stared at him, then at the outfit, then at the door, then finally back to him again. I should’ve slapped him for daring to suggest such a thing. I should’ve, but the voice in my head was too loud. I could’ve done an about face and ran from that room, cowardice be damned, so that I could avoid what he was confronting me with. But I didn’t want to do that either. Not really. Instead, I wanted to beg him to not make me. To get on my bloody hands and knees and plead with him to tell me this was all some terrible dream and that I could leave. I almost did it too, but…

Maybe he’s right, maybe he’s right, maybe he’s right, maybe he’s right…

If he was right, and I wasn’t in full control of myself… How dangerous did that make me? There were villains and criminals out there with only a fraction of my powers and abilities, and they threatened thousands. What might I be capable of in those moments when I’m not in control?

“Okay…” I said softly, and reached out for the fetish costume. (PEGGY: +15SP)(1SP)

*Author's Note - Hey, guess what, I'm back! Sorry about the delay, but professional and personal mayhem really did a number on my freetime along with needing to get my primary writing computer fixed. Luckily, that should all be sorted out now, and I should be able to write on a somewhat regular basis.

Anyway, in regards to the story, I added a current points and traits chapter. I'll be inserting these every 10-15 chapters from now on. Just enough to keep everyone up to date, but not enough to be obnoxious. If you guys would rather I post them after every chapter, let me know and I can make it happen.

Oh, and mathematicians in the audience might've noticed that Gerry has just broken 100SP accrued with this chaptered. That means he's gonna have a trait soon, as well as- even better- access to upgrades! So expect a poll to come your way sometime soon, as well as another poll (coming up next) for the supporting character who will be joining Captain Carter in her torment.

It's good to be back. See you sick fucks in the next chapter!*