Who: Charlie Emily and Agent Washington When: Monday Evening Where: Freelancers Base What: Nightmares Warnings: Language, violence, PTSD warnings, general bad things dealing with brain damage and other medical issues. Reader discretion is advised. Summary: Closed/In-Progress
Charlie had been quite serious about bringing home a wide selection of dessert options for her birthday. Whether they were counting it as the twentieth birthday or the fortieth, cake and ice cream were going to be provided.
Who didn't like ice cream cake after all? It was really the best option especially the ones that had the delicious chocolate cookie crunch pieces in the middle. Thinking about the semantics on whether Charlie really liked that sort of thing or her memories told her as much was not on her to-do list, though. She was going to enjoy the day as if she was just herself; just Charlie.
At least what remained of the day.
The security systems were a breeze now and Charlie made her way into the house without any problems. She'd had a few hiccups the first few days after moving in, but she understood the reasoning. They all had their hang-ups with people, places, and things.
"I brought cake like I promised!" she called out to the house. Relatively quiet was both typical and odd given the time. Depositing the bags from Hinkles onto the counter along with her other belongings, Charlie poked her head into the living room. "Wash?"
No answer. He had to be sleeping. "Hey, Wash?" Charlie frowned as she approached him, clearly in the midst of something unpleasant in his sleep. She had been following orders to maintain a friendly but careful approach with Wash, but he looked miserable. Almost in actual pain. Charlie gave his shoulder a light shake before following it with another firmer shake.