A Winner is Not You
Jack hurtles his way across town after leaving the hospital. He knows he should still be on patrol, should be hunting down the attackers, but he just can't right now. He can still feel the girl's blood on him. Still smell that disgusting overly antiseptic smell of the hospital. Still remember the look on the doctor's face.
He wants to go home. Whatever's closest to home, anyway.
He slips in the window and goes straight to the bathroom, costume fading into an equally bloodied pair of civilian clothes as he loses what little he had for breakfast.
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