Susanne smirked as Chuck poked at the lasagna... or what was left of it, anyway. She appreciated his efforts to be kind, but it did little to fix the problem here - the fact that she'd just ruined their supper.
Looking up at him, she sighed before giving him a wry grin. "I'm fine. Just irked with myself, that's all. I don't know what happened, and I was looking forward to you trying my lasagna."
She reached up and set her hands on his, leaving them on her shoulders. "I suppose if I wanted a little extra attention, I could always act like this was a devastating experience, but...it's hardly the most traumatic thing I've been through." She finally smiled as a little snicker came out. It became a giggle, which evolved into a fit of laughter. "I'm sorry," she gasped, bending over to catch her breath. "I really wanted to cook for you... You decide where we go tonight. I'm too discombobulated now."
Gunner sat in his car, parked by the curb. He'd been sitting in front of JT's house for at least fifteen minutes now, but hadn't yet gathered enough gumption to go inside. He saw JT's car. He saw Bree's car. Yet he didn't want to see them. He'd been here countless times. He'd even stayed here after his time at Northside. Yet tonight...tonight he wished he'd told Hope no. He was ashamed. Embarrassed. He was a grown man who couldn't even control his own mind, and he was putting the burden on someone he loved, and a good friend.
His car's backseat held a duffel bag, a backpack and his pillow. He'd had enough nerve to pack, at least. And now he just wished there was an easier solution.
Inside the house, JT pulled aside the curtain and furrowed his brow. He took another sip of his iced tea before turning around and wandering back to the kitchen where supper was in the oven. "Gunner's sitting outside," he mentioned to Bree. "Has been for at least ten minutes. I...have a feeling he might need an extra prompt to get him inside this time."
Thunder shook the ground and lighting streaked across the sky. Rain came down in torrents as the wind blew. It mattered little though. Garret cared not that he was soaked through to the bone. Standing in the near-flooded rose garden, he held his face to the sky and sought not for shelter.
It was near midnight, and power had been lost on the estate. A lightning strike had seen to that. Not everybody knew about it though - only those with high security clearance, or those with good ears to know what was happening. Regardless Garret was one who knew, and as such, he knew that no security cameras had seen him walk across the property to find himself in the secluded garden. He'd been back two days from his last mission, and had slept a total of three hours since. He'd been gone for four weeks, and had returned with less weight, and dark circles under his eyes. He'd completed his task as requested and had done everything Medridge wanted. And he felt just as empty now as he did after every mission.
Another flash of lightning revealed his dark outline against the rain. He still did not move. He wanted the rain to wash away the pain. The guilt. The madness. But nothing could remove it. Victoria's love always numbed it for him - he hadn't even seen her since he'd first left four weeks ago. But could her limited affection really solve anything? He knew it was a feeble attempt to dull his other senses. He had to get out. Somehow. Before he went mad.
