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“Hey, you. What's the use of taking meds if you're just going to keep bothering it?” Dave slapped her hand away. She scowled up at him, but he was resolute, pushing her back down. “Stay still. If your ribs heal all fucked up, don't blame me, alright?”

At that moment, a timid voice spoke up. “Charlie?” Elliot peeked out from behind Dave, eyes wide. His brows were furrowed with worry, and fear made him look even smaller than usual.

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It took her a moment to figure out why--- that was how good Dave's meds were, they made you forget how much like shit you look even after someone just reminded you of your horrible injuries. She tried a smile, though she honestly didn't know if it would be reassuring.

“Hey, kiddo. What are you in the mood for? We've got... What have we got, Dave?” She craned her neck around, trying to look for him. She wanted to get up so she'd have a better vantage point, but he had a point about the healing. She was sure she'd regret what she'd already done plenty when the pills wore off.

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Sometime during her short little exchange with Elliot, Dave had wandered off into the kitchen. Charlie could hear the microwave beeping merrily, then the hum as it fried whatever he had put in it. That reminded her: “Elly, did you eat already?” She'd asked Dave to ask for her, but he hadn't said anything. Elliot nodded, but she knew her little brother. He wilted under her scrutiny, bit his lip, then ever so slightly shook his head. She swore again, and he shushed her.

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“Don't get mad, Charlie. You're injured,” he said, as if being angry was somehow going to stunt her recovery. And hey, he might be right, but probably not to the extent that he believed.

Thankfully, Dave came to the rescue with a plate of dumplings. He didn't like messy take-out containers lying around, but he wasn't above stocking microwave dinners in his freezer. “It ain't much, but eat up, yeah?” he said, leaving the plate on the coffee table. “And before you start getting on my case, I'll see about finding some movies.” Charlie laughed, though it turned into a cough, and she tasted copper in her mouth. Delightful.

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Thankfully, Elliot didn't notice, and she hadn't gotten any blood on the couch. Elliot was preoccupied with the food. He took one dumpling, and dipped it into the little dish of sauce. Where did that thing even come from? She hadn't seen Dave put it down. Elliot bit into the dumpling with an almost thoughtful expression, and chewed it slowly. “It's good,” he said, mildly surprised. “It's better than that place we get ours from. You should try it, Charlie.” He held the dumpling out to her. She tried to wave him off, but he was insistent. Sighing, she gave in and took a bite.

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He was right, it was pretty tasty. Sort of weak without the sauce, but she could definitely see what he was talking about. She did her best to nod and make noises of agreement, and was rewarded with a smile from him. It was the first one he'd cracked since Dave brought him over. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and laid back more easily on the couch. Things were fine now; Elliot was here and she was crashing at Dave's. There was going to be hell to pay in the morning for more than one reason, but she didn't have to think about that now. In fact, she probably couldn't. It was getting harder and harder to marshal her thoughts in any direction that didn't have to do with her immediate surroundings.

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The dumpling reminded her that she hadn't eaten in a while either. She didn't know if this was another medication thing, or if it was an injury thing or whatever, but she didn't really feel it. That was probably for the best too, since she didn't know how easy it was going to be, eating in her state. From somewhere behind the back of the couch, Dave's voice piped up again. “Movies, movies. Okay, well, I've got the usual stuff. Disney, Dreamworks, all that jazz.” The one nice thing about working for a video store was that they always had a good selection at their homes. Even Charlie had a small stash of movies, even though they didn't really watch anything at home. There was only one TV, and their parents hogged it most of the time.

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Most of these were 'borrowed' from Rupert, though he never asked for them back. Some were Christmas gifts, usually favorites or the rarer stuff. Rupert never skimped when it came to gifts, even if it was from his own stock. Elliot stood up to see the movies that Dave was holding, head tilted to one side as he considered them.

“I've seen all of these, haven't I?” he asked.

Dave scratched his head and looked at the DVD cases he had laid out. “Mmm... Yeah, you know, I think you might be right about that. Do you want to watch something else? Nothing above PG13, but we've got other stuff.”

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He rummaged around the DVD cabinet some more while Elliot looked over the ones already out.

“You know who'd be good at a time like this?” said Charlie. “Cammie. She's always got eight billion recs that we never get around to seeing.” Her tastes ranged from blockbuster hits to the incredibly obscure foreign film festival stuff. Charlie didn't even know how she managed to see half the stuff she had seen. She'd wondered about Cammie's student life more than once, and how she managed to balance watching all those movies against staying in art school. Now wasn't really the time to be thinking about anything that puzzled her though.

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It was just one of those things that she kept forgetting to ask. Cammie was so effervescently bubbly that she more or less dominated any conversation she was a part of. If she let you get a word in edgewise, it was usually because she was asking you a question. Not that she was impossible to converse with, or even difficult or anything like that. It was just... hard for Charlie not to get swept up in her particular brand of whatever it was. Rupert, who was quieter, fared much better than she did against it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Rupert was older.

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Dave valiantly produced some new movies to watch, which was no small feat considering just how often Elliot had come over for movie nights by now. Even Charlie was impressed, since there were some movies niche enough to be more up Cammie's alley. Despite his efforts, however, nostalgia won the night, and Charlie found herself watching the opening sequence to 'Enchanted' for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I swear, it's like we watch this every other Saturday,” she said, groaning. She had pretty much memorized the script by now, and she hadn't even been trying. Dave didn't say anything, but she caught him rolling his eyes during the song, which said just as much, really. Elliot looked pleased though, and more than that, he looked distracted.

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She could hear him humming along to the song in snatches, quiet enough to suggest she probably wasn't meant to hear. She grinned and ruffled his hair, to which he responded by shushing her. “I didn't say anything,” she said, feigning petulance, but he only shushed her again.

“I'm watching the movie,” he said, just a hint of a whine edging into his voice too. Ah, that was right, nothing got in the way of Elliot and the Favorite Movie. Charlie sighed, but truthfully it was just as well, since the pull of the pills was getting pretty strong. She was going to doze off any minute now and she knew it. Dave probably knew it too. He was almost as tired of Enchanted as she was, and usually that meant he fought harder to get Elliot to watch something else.

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“Why do you like this movie so much anyway?” she asked, phrasing it to sound like she was giving him crap about it. She really was curious, though if she got an answer, she hoped she was able to remember it after she woke up.

Elliot didn't reply for a while, and she thought he was ignoring her as some sort of punishment. But just as she was about to give the question up for lost, they got to the New York manhole scene, and Elliot spoke up. “It's funny,” he said, still quiet enough not to disturb anyone who might be listening to the film. He needn't have bothered, since Charlie could see Dave paying more attention to the dogs than the movie. “It's all the old stuff, but they're funny about it, and that guy keeps asking questions. Nobody in the old movie ever asks those questions. I wanted to ask them too.”

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Charlie watched as the jaded lawyer--- now confirmed as Elliot's favorite--- finally encountered the princess. “Do you like the answers he got?” she asked, barely aware now of even what she was saying. A yawn threatened the edge of her words, but she managed to play it off.

“Yeah,” Elliot said. “Just because I think it's silly doesn't mean I don't want a happy ending anyway.” He smiled shyly, the way he did whenever he shared his little secrets. Charlie smiled back. Something soppy danced on the tip of her tongue, fighting to be spoken aloud, but to no avail. The mix of warmth, medication and genuine contentment had finally reached some sort of critical mass.

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She wasn't sure when she fell asleep, exactly; the movie kept playing well into her dreams. It was only when she saw Buster and the other dog dancing along on two legs with the rest in Central Park that she realized she must have been dreaming.

The morning after was hell, just as she thought it would be. Her sides alone were enough to constitute hell, but that wasn't all there was to it. Of course not; that would be her getting off too easy. No, she had to have the headache to go with it. Headaches were a quintessential part of the aftermath package. It didn't even matter what it was the aftermath to, there just always was a headache.