Michael. He knows that voice, a voice that summons; beckons. He must know that voice, and he must go to it. He moves - turned his head towards the window, blinking a few times, and it caught the physician by surprise. Everything about this man-not-man was strange. There was a gash on his arm when he first came in but by the time they stopped the bleeding, it almost seemed as if it had started to heal on its own. Hadn't said a word since he showed up but somehow the hospital felt... different. Calm, despite the storm raging outside. Even some of the staff who seemed frazzled, unusually rowdy - everything seemed to have calmed down moments after he arrived.
It's an odd feeling, being fussed over by a mortal. There was a first time for everything but he didn't need the help. And he certainly didn't need all the paperwork that went with it.
He's on his feet and making his way towards the door, but they won't let him go. He doesn't seem capable of walking ten steps without faltering. 'Not until Mr. Preston can take you home' or if there was family they could contact.
Trapped in a bacteria-filled room that smelled of sharp... chemicals, he sat alone on the bench. And sighed.