[for Meredith]

He needs to get out. Sean's been good these past few days, he's been a bloody saint, but there's a letter in the post that he can't quite believe he's written and while he pauses by the entryway, he can't just drag himself back to that clinic right now. It's too quiet and stifling, pushing in on him from all sides, and he can't do it. Instead, he makes a beeline straight for the front doors and pushes on through, blinking in the sudden sunlight. For a moment, he very nearly breaks into a run, just wanting to cover as much distance as is physically possible, but seeing as he's sure Meredith would actually kill him if she ever found out, he sits himself roughly down on the steps to quell the urge.

He sits himself down and he doesn't move. He's not sure for how long, but it's a while. He should get up, go back inside and tell Meredith that he's officially checking out, or he should go home and get some real rest, or he should go grab a drink before she catches on and he misses his chance. There are a whole lot of things he should be doing, but instead he just sits there, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, staring into the distance and ignoring anyone who passes him by. He sits, unable either to get up or to ignore the heavy weight of the knowledge that a fairly significant, if short, part of his life is likely now over forever.