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Lucky had said that it would hurt, and it did. Perhaps not nearly as much as it would have without Trynt, who once more was a growling and ready presence in his mind. The wyvern's words however were forgotten in a wash of pain and agony, though it was quite possibly something to reprimand. He was quite certain at some point he caught the word "idiot" snarled at him, before Trynt set to work trying to help him, trying to keep his insides on the inside as he was hefted up off of the ground, eyes closed, teeth gritted.

Oh wait. Make that, eye closed.

His whimpers had stopped, but his rapid and ragged breathing continued. He refused to look at anybody as Lucky ensured his unceremonious exit from the classroom turned torture chamber.

The next few minutes were a blur as he waited for the ride to the infirmary to be over. He might have even blacked out a couple of times, as each step Lucky took jostled his body in agony, especially where the acid had seared and burned it's way through muscles and bone.

He was lucky to even be alive right now.

In his ears, the persistent sounds of Fini's screams had ceased. In their place was a ringing, loud, likely from the gunshots fired almost point black into various parts of his body. The blood was everywhere, staining the once pristine white of his coat, masking half of his face, the half where now a ruined and empty eye socket remained.

When darkness overtook him, despite Trynt's snarls, or any reasurrences Lucky might have given, Finn gave into it willingly, just wanting it, as he had sad many times now, to stop.

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Voices. The bustling of bodies, something soft but firm beneath his back. The sharp smell of disinfectant. Sharp orders were being shouted. Through the ringing in his ears he could only make out but very little of what was being said. His clothes were being cut off, stripped away, his open wounds and bare skin more exposed to the air around him for the people who tended to him. He thought he heard Jack's voice, but even as he went to open his eye to see, he was being moved, his bullet wounds examined, and he had to bite back a gruff cry of agony.

"Clean and clear." Came one voice too near his face, and then another affirmed, in much the same words.

"Just this one, then." Another voice, one next to his bleeding side, where a bullet had torn into him while lying on the ground.

"We'll need to dig it out."

Dig it out. He could barely process what they were inferring, but with stark clarity it hit him all at once. The bullet was still lodged inside. He should have been worried about that, he knew, but when it came down to it, there was only one thing....

A single brown eye opened, though it's eyelashes were crusted with blood. "Is she dead?" He was searching for a familiar face, but all he saw were strangers, blurred outlines, red and bright white, like the room. His voice was hoarse. "I killed her." He muttered. "I killed her. She's dead and I killed her." His voice started out as a soft moan, full of pain, of disbelief, but now was becoming slightly hysterical, as it raised in volume.

Nobody was listening to him. Nobody seemed to even care that he had something to say.

And then finally.

"You didn't kill her. Cass is still alive.

The voice was carefully neutral when they said it, as though attempting not to judge him, not right now.

Cass? Cass??? No, he knew she was alive. He'd seen her. She was unimportant compared to what he had actually done.

"No. No she's dead. I killed her, with acid. A black vial."

Somebody tried to move him, the voices all babbling again, not paying him any attention.

He struck out at them with his uninjured arm, shoving, struggling . Nobody should touch him. Nobody should help him.

Nobody could save him now, anyways. What he had done was unforgivable, if not to others then surely to himself.

"Listen to me! I killed her! She's dead!" There was anger laced in his ragged tone now, along with a hint of sorrow, of regret for so many things. He continued to slap away anybody who came to close, struggling to rise even though it was absolute agony to do so, when firm hands pushed him back to the bed, a pair on each shoulder.

"Where's that sedative?" Somebody asked, voice calm but authoritative.

"No. No! Don't---" His voice cut off when hands grasped for his hand, his wrist, holding firm while a needle was inserted into his vein, likely for an I.V.. And yet still he tried to struggle away.

< Finn.... > Trynt's voice was hesitant at first, his snarling curses having come to a stop. He was confused by his masters behaviour. Confused and alarmed. Worried.

< Finn calm down! > A sharper command this time, punctuated by a deep growl at the end.

"---No..." He gasped, a burning sensation traveling up his arm, his head becoming dizzy quite rapidly.

"Stop...."

The struggle was over, his body going limp.

"I killed...Fini..."

His last muttered words, slow and lethargic, barely passing his lips before he was knocked unconscious by whatever drug they had pumped into his veins.

He had heard about Finn through his first two . . . patients, if he could call them that. Roland had rambled incessantly about things like acid and whatnot, so, of course Dorian would come around to check out his Canadian bro. Of course, he didn't expect him to be as horrible looking as he was.

"Ta-ber-nac Finn. W'at 'ave you done now." He voiced out, softer than normal. He didn't really want someone coming in and bothering the sleeping beauty and his current visitor. Snorting out of his nose lightly, he pulled the chair close to the bed and just sat back, scratching his chin lightly.

"So, you look like s**t. Just so you know. But, I'm 'ere if you need it." He thought out loud, before staring down the drugged up patient, wrapped up like a mummy in halloween. It was going to be a short visit, because, well, what the ******** was he supposed to do with a comatose acid-victim.

"Well. Promise me you won't tell anyone I did this." He murmured after a few moments, going in to his white coat and pulling out a small package. It was crudely made, and had been pretty much created by white lineless paper, which held a little surprise for Finn - a message to contact him when he was awake so they could talk, and maybe a couple cigarettes that probably wouldn't last long if any nurses caught it.

But you know, it was there.

He hurt him, Abbi had cried. Our leader hurt Finn!

Abbi had no reason to lie to him, though it did seem a little odd that a Leader of a group such as this would get away with something so brutal. They didn’t have large numbers, and yet he was wounding what he had? Either this Hunter business was too ******** up for words, or something happened along the line. Then again, Otto had warned him about Caelius. Told him to stay out of his way and keep his head down, so to speak.

Surely not even Finn was stupid enough to talk back to a murderous authority. Hopefully, anyway.

Once Abbi had calmed down he left her to go check on Finn, and was somewhat surprised to see two strangers had beat him to it. The Death Trainee tilted his head in a greeting nod, and moved to the bedside as well, leaning over to take a peek at his heavily bandaged friend.

“Oh, it could be worse.” He nodded to the woman in the room. “He didn’t die from it, after all.” Don’t do anything you can’t recover from was something he had been known to say before all of this, and he couldn’t help but snicker in amusement to himself. “I’m glad you’re alive, though.” He told Finn, though he doubted his fellow Trainee would hear him.

“I’m sure Fini won’t be happy that you did something incredibly stupid, but you know. You're alive, and that's all that matters.”

There were very few things that could truly infuriate her. And even less that made it near impossible for her to hide the fact of how furious she was. But one Finn Conner had managed to do it. Oh he'd managed to do it brilliantly.

She warred with herself and her weapon on how wise it was to go see the moon trainee. Which both concluded it was not wise at all.

Except... she had to know he really was alive. That Caelius hadn't killed him.

Because goddamnit, Finn! She had ******** warned you!

Fini caught sight of Marcus and quietly trailed behind him. Part of her was concerned at what he might do. And yet, she really couldn't have blamed him. Oh she'd jump in and keep him from doing anything horrifically stupid, yes. Because she did care. It was not her fault her man was an idiot lately.

The sun trainee leaned against the side of the door frame, letting Marcus have his say while she gritted her teeth, a cold look Finn probably would have been proud of (if he'd been awake) along her features. That... idiot! She couldn't move any closer. Couldn't even walk over to see the extent of his injuries. He was heavily bandaged, that much got was evident. But if she got any closer, she'd probably hit him. Or extend his stay in the hospital by several more days.

"You... <******** dumbass!" The words were hissed out, directed at the unconscious moon trainee. Where Macus's words had been cold anger, hers were a fiery fury. "I warned you. I ******** warned you! But did you listen?" Fini crossed her arms, because her hands had balled into fists and she might have been shaking. Yeah. Best not to get very close. She kept Marcus between her and Finn.

Speaking of Marcus... "I'm sorry. I know it won't do s**t to make up for anything, and I am not defending him or his actions." Fini let her cold gaze break away from Finn to look up at the moon hunter. "But I'm sorry I failed you too."

She couldn't be here any longer. It was to tempting to beat the unconscious man. Too tempting to do something stupid herself. There was such a rage of emotions feeding her fury she probably should avoid most people. Her icy blue eyes finally fell on Ripley. She gave him a long look, trusting that he'd make sure Finn did nothing else stupid if he woke up. And then she turned on her heel and left.

Chel brought a bag of juice boxes and a sad deflated balloon she'd found washed up on the beach (it'd been caught on a piece of driftwood, so it still had a little bit of float to it. Not much, mind you, but a saggy balloon was better than no balloon).

When she walked in the room, she found a lot of serious faces. "Wooooah, who died in here?" She then realized that that was probably not the best thing to say right now.

She blushed a scarlet color and said, "Er. You guys know what I mean. How's he doin'?" She lifted up the amenities she'd brought. "I brought uh ... stuff."

[ idk who all is in here so im just gonna quote everyone- sorry! ]

"Who died and made Mr. Grumpypants king over here?" Chel said with a scowl, still not realizing that death jokes weren't appropriate right now. Gosh darnit Chel.

She crossed her arms, setting down the juice and pathetic balloon on one of the tables. "I'm here to visit a good friend, okay? I literally just got here give me a second more." She looked to Jack a bit more seriously. "Please? I'll be quiet and you can use me to get your coffee or something."

Though she wasn't good at saying it, Chel actually did care a lot about her friends' wellbeing, and she would grovel and carry coffee for Beanstalk if that was what it took.

Chel lit up at the opportunity to work for her reward. Impulsively she put a kiss on Jack's cheek out of gratefulness and said, "Okay okay, be right back ..."

She then ran out the door faster than a jackrabbit, no pun intended, mumbling, "Two creamers no sugar, two creamers two sugars- wait ******** ..."

Ripley’s stare to the angry hunter was broken by a well-meaning girl with a balloon, and then Jack storming on in and kicking everyone out in his own way. Well, that made things easier, at least. The Trainee gave the tall man a half smile and started on his way out, only to pause when some very colourful language caught his attention.

“Wow, such language. Very slang.” Ripley murmured to himself, trying out Abbi’s strange way of talking for the first time. It felt weird and unnatural, and it definitely wasn’t as endearing when he heard it in his own voice. Needless to say, he didn’t see the appeal.

But he shrugged and left anyway, just in time to see the girl with the balloon go running past him, muttering to herself. “No sugar!” He called after her, trying to be helpful.