"We could, but I really don't want to." He doesn't exactly like it here - even if he probably belongs here, more than George ever did. At least here he's contained. Maybe, if he's lucky, they could addle him so sickeningly with drugs that he won't even understand how damaging he is by his very nature.

But that's just a pipe dream. And an inconvenient one.

"I'm guessing there's an exit. These rifts, they - " He breaks off as a doctor passes, white coat flaring as he walks. He tucks his chin down to his chest and stares slackly at his feet.

Hoping it'll count as the kind of acceptable lack of lucidity they'd appreciate from their patients.