The core of desensitization therapy, put simply, was facing one's fears. It was also the best way to overcome them.
Su Ming figured that when Steve could look at his own charred corpse without screaming and instead shout, "Hell yeah, just do it!" that would mean his condition had improved considerably.
Steve was indeed somewhat depressed. Besides guilt, part of it was caused by fear.
Deathstroke did not know whether Steve's illness could be cured. After all, he was not a professional psychologist. He excelled at triggering all sorts of negative emotions in his enemies, but when it came to treating mental illness, he only knew a few amateur tricks.
But it did not matter. If it could not be cured, so be it. At least it was entertaining. Dream-Steve screamed every few minutes. Wasn't that wonderfully stress-relieving?
Now, the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. were starting a new venture together on a brand-new habitable planet. They faced the unknown expanse of space, and no one knew what the future held. The pressure was truly immense.
"He's already doing pretty well, meow."
The cat licked its paw, its narrowed eyes watching Steve fall into the next layer of dreams. For Dream of a Thousand Cats, dreams could be endlessly refilled:
"An ordinary person would probably have fainted from the intense stimulation long ago. Not only hasn't he passed out to escape it, but he's already realized he's trapped in an endless dream and is trying to find a way out."
"Can he escape?" Adjutant smoothed her long silver hair and blinked her big eyes cutely.
"He can't." Dream of a Thousand Cats shook its head without a moment's hesitation, the corners of its feline mouth curling up slightly. "Do you think everyone is Deathstroke? Finding a dream's weakness isn't that easy. If