In need of good support - (open - Wes?)
Fred had expected another "normal" day in the City. She'd meant to go to the library, check up on Cassie, do a little research, something that would mean she was in action. She'd meant to be out and about, but when the City gave something of a heave, Fred soon found herself curled up in the corner of her room with a blanket pulled tightly about her head to wait it out. She had to fight with herself to keep from jabbering, to keep from writing on the walls. She had to fight to keep it together - she'd changed, and she wasn't going back.
It was probably a few hours after the last reality twist when Fred climbed out of her one blanket fort and crawled to the window to peek out. It had all settled again; the City was back to its normal paces. Fred turned to look at the walls, imagining how great they would be covered in equations. She'd even gone so far as to find a marker in a drawer. But, she opted for shoving it in her back pocket for later. Right now she'd go with pulling on a jacket and heading out. She knew where she'd find the support she needed.
Her steps were determined as she made her way down the sidewalk to where she believed her current support system lived. She didn't get there as directly as she would have liked, but Fred got to the Bates Motel just the same. She wasn't sure what room he was in, and she the whole black/white bit was slightly off putting even for her; she didn't mind getting lost in shades of gray on occasion, but this was ridiculous.
With a setting of shoulders and an audible swallow, Fred headed to the main office - they'd know where Wesley was, surely.