Breaks were never something that really happened all that often when someone was a soldier. They got their objectives done, and when everything was finally done would they be allowed to go to sleep. Washington had plenty of twenty four hours days during his time when he first started the military again. They were usually forced to stay up for a certain amount of time because on the battlefield in the trenches and behind debris, they would be like that for many hours waiting for the enemy to make a move. It was probably the most important thing that the military had ended up teaching him. By the time that Washington had entered the war, humans were already losing the war, meaning that there were a limited amount of troops. Not only that there were a limited amount of resources. The soldier remembered at one point that they got so many wounded that they couldn't heal all of them as they ran out of supplies.

Which had ended up them going on a raid a nearby hospital that was on the planet for supplies if the enemy hadn't taken everything in it. Around that time he had been promoted to Corporal and was capable of leading his own troops, and it was during this mission that he lost two of his soldiers. The enemies having cloaking and they didn't have the helmets that he did in the future where they would be able to see motion around them. They were caught off guard, and they were barely able to make it out with their lives. Not to mention that they also had to protect the scientist that was there to even collect supplies in the first place. It was always a mess, and there was always someone dying. He wasn't sure the last time that he had ever heard of a squad coming back that didn't lose a member of their own. They were again taught early on not to get too attached to anyone as they would probably all end up dying in this war. That didn't mean that some weren't connected to others and Washington himself made a couple of comrades.

He was pretty sure the majority of them died, and if they were still alive, then they were somewhere else. Hopefully safe. Washington didn't exactly wish death on anyone, but he also was fairly cruel when it came to the aspect of death. It had a huge impact on him when someone died, especially someone that he did know. But being trained to hide his emotions, he did exactly that. His first couple of years in the territory didn't end up breaking his spirit, it was only when he had arrived in Project Freelancer that it got worse for him. He thought that there was no other choice and the military program was going to be the only program that ended up saving them. Washington didn't exactly have a good track record when it came to injuries. Coming second after Agent Maine, he was the second most injured out of everyone in the program. But, he was always able to bounce back from his injuries and most of them didn't really end up lasting that long.

Max around two weeks in the infirmary until he was cleared for duty. He had lost track of how many bones he had ended up breaking and lost track of the number of times he had gotten shot. Washington was lucky that his teammates were there to always save him in trouble, Carolina being one of them. Because of the number of times, he was injured, it meant that he had ended up gaining a high pain tolerance. There had been one instance after a mission that he walked casually off of the ship toward his quarters. Turned out the entire time that he had been shot and didn't even realize it as he was still coming down from the adrenaline and pain didn't mean all that much to him. The only way Washington had realized this was when the pilot was cleaning out the supplies of the back of her ship and noticed a stream of blood that was going further into the ship and she had tracked it down to him. That moment made it clear to him that he was growing, whether that growth was good or bad he wasn't really sure. Now though?

Washington despised medics. At least with the terrible way that they always treated the Freelancers as just a means to get paid for their services and not worry about the life that they had in their hands. One instance had been during the AI implantation that they were going to do to him. He had his armor on when he was put into surgery, and he wasn't even sure if they knew what was going to happen when the computer was put inside of his brain. The chip inserted into his implant on the back of his neck, and he felt like he was dying. The pain had seared through his entire body, causing his muscles to convulse as he ended up off of the operating table. He was in distress and clearly not sane as the computer tried to rip apart its mind, ripping apart Wash's mind in the process. The only way that the medics had gotten him under control was sedating him, and the computer didn't manage to kill itself inside of its head.

But in the process, it had managed to transfer all of its memories into his mind, taking over memories and replace them with those that he once had. Meaning he suffered a significant amount of memory loss, so much so that he didn't even remember the name of his mother or sisters anymore. He doesn't even remember what they looked like. Recently with the appearance of Agent Texas, the memories had been amplified, his brain thinking that the trauma from said memories was his own instead of realizing that they were not his own memories. Whatever they did, nearly killed him. Washington hated them for it because he knew that he would never be the same with the truth that was now in his head. He had a lot of issues. Issues that no one even knew about. Not Church. Not Carolina. No one. And he planned to keep it that way. He couldn't afford to look weak in this strange world of theirs. Thanks to his condition though ad the schedule that he kept himself with, it meant that he only slept 2 hours a night. Nothing more and nothing less.

After his most recent episode, he was physically exhausted and fatigued. Yet, his own willpower was the only powering force for him to move. The Freelancer went on his daily patrols during the afternoon, alone, so he wouldn't have to worry about anyone else. He recently had his arm broken by a former friend of his, one that had actually almost tried to kill him by trying to snap his neck. It had also been the reason why Carolina ended up dying and coming back to life somehow. There was too much going on, and the voices in the back of his head wouldn't shut up. A groan escaped his jaws as he was walking, shaking his head as if hoping that the pain would go away. Doing this though meant that his eyes ended up closing. He didn't see the pothole that was in front of him until it was too late. Suddenly there was no longer any earth beneath his paws and thanks to his huge weight, Washington didn't have any time to stop his momentum.

The Freelancer let out a startled shout as he fell down the steep hill. An audible snap as he landed on his already broken arm. Washington didn't scream up though, sucking in a breath as he tumbled down the hill, armor and all, before coming to a stop. The broken man sank his claws into the earth and his breathing quickened as he looked at the broken splint that was now on the ground next to him. "Fuck!" Was all Washington growled loudly as evidence of his pain. This fucking sucked. He had just started to feel like he could pressure on his leg, and it was broken again. He should be glad that the break-in itself had been clean, but now this? He tried to calm himself down from the pain, pressing the front part of his helmet onto the ground as he looked down at the earth. He couldn't show weakness. He refused. He dealt with broken bones before. This was nothing. Washington continued to repeat those thoughts in his head over and over again like a mantra. "speech"