I feel like I keep having the same conversation every week. Someone dies. We're all sad. We talk about how this could have happened. And then the trial, and we figure someone out. Someone dies. Rinse, repeat.

[Over and over and over again.]

I know we're findin' out more stuff. About that daycare or whatever. But damn it-! I can't keep doin' this.

[There's just...exhaustion setting in his bones, here, underneath all the rage, all the grief. Like if he could just lay here, and close his eyes, and sleep forever, wouldn't that be nice...?]

[But it would help no one here to do that.]

[He shifts, before leaning his head against the other's shoulder, his eyes burning with tears.]

If the person responsible for this mess were here right now...I'd cut out his organs, one by one, and watch him bleed. And even that isn't good enough.