Private Finished It ended with a bullet

Jude was tired. He'd been tired from the moment he'd gotten a chance to sit down. He'd been exhausted by the time Giltenn had stopped sticking their metaphorical fingers into his emotions and given him time to process. He'd cried on the way to the hospital, and he hadn't been the only one.

He was so, so tired.

When they'd peeled off his clothes--soaked in blood and submitted to evidence--they'd insisted on taking his suit too. His hand was starting to bruise, the damage of the claw distributed across it. He had bruising across his chest, but it was minor, and even the suit was completely intact.

They'd stuck him in a hospital gown, gave him some painkillers, and told him to wait.

He'd had to go through the whole explanation with an unfamiliar officer, during which he was cuffed--an unpleasant experience, considering it left his arm dead--and it was only once someone else had come in, sitting down with him and clearing him that he was released.

Someone had been called to get his clothes. His guardian would be there to pick him up. Did he want a therapist?

He'd nodded to all but the last, and then he'd gone to wait.

Rory had found him first, carrying a bag of his things, and he'd vanished into a bathroom to change and try and clean himself up. He'd showered, rinsing off the remains of the sweat and blood, and then dressed in whatever Rory had grabbed him. His hand was black and blue, tender all over, and he'd headed towards Broen's room.

He spotted Zora standing not too far away, watching the room, and headed towards her carefully.

"They already clear you?" He asked, his voice unusually quiet.

Jude was not okay. Literally anyone would be able to tell he wasn't okay, and Jude suspected she was asking more out of courtesy then anything else.

He almost said I'm fine, and then changed his mind.

"It's gone now," Jude said quietly. "I thought it was, but when I got close enough to the hospital room I could tell. Broen's still in there, but the Headmaster's gone."

Did she even know who that was? Probably not. He'd only vaguely explained, once upon a time, and Broen sure as hell hadn't.

But the crack in the wall was gone. The metronome had vanished. The damage it had done fixed itself, repaired as if the damage had never been there in the first place.

"I think I'm going to need some time off work," Jude said, his voice still quiet even though his face was making it obvious he was trying very, very hard to crack a joke.