Finn left the room and headed straight to the kitchen. He encountered the staff in different places, looking at him in concern, though of course they all had their jobs so they had to do those as well.
"It's alright, focus on your work," he said, going behind the counter.
Finn washed his hands repeatedly, heaving a deep breath. It took him a moment, trying to erase the bloody scene in his mind away.
This place had always been bloody, but Syl to him had always been an anchor. It could be because his first impression of her was so strong. So when he saw her broken, it made him feel particularly panicked.
There was also the fact that he cared for her as well, so his mind wasn't the best right now.
And what was the most meditative activity for him? Cooking. And he ought to cook good meals to greet the patients when they woke up anyway.
For their meals, as newly recovered patients, it had to be the following: easy to digest, restorative, and comforting.
