"...Skin is-- unbroken, there is-- almost no trace-- of injury. There is some-- scarring, but that's-- to be expected-- of the type of-- injury you-- described." The breathy, halting, perpetually winded-sounding voice of Doctor Daniel Schreber spoke as he examined the former site of the injury of earlier. His words were broken by his typical gasps for air, normal for him.

Thanks to the fire-wielding woman's healing flames, the claw marks ripped into his skin had been all but obliterated, like wispy pencil marks on a piece of paper treated to a vigorous treatment with an eraser. Of course, the shirt was ruined, but he'd hidden that on the way in with his typical long coat.

Doctor Schreber limped from where he stood behind John, seated as he was on a medical table, and slowly made his way over to a chair in front of the table. He continued, "And you say you-- were clawed by a-- vampire? In a battle-- in a mine?"

"I know it sounds strange," Murdoch acknowledged. "I didn't know if I believed it either. But you saw the shirt." After all, even if the wounds were gone, the cloth was still shredded and soaked in blood at the edges. "Everything I told you, it was all real. But there's something more important. To everyone here."

He leaned forward a little, "I went OUT. Of the City. I found a way out. I was somewhere that wasn't HERE. It was a desert. Somewhere that wasn't the city."

Emitting a small, huffed-out laugh, sounding maybe just a little unhinged for a moment, John breathed, "Doctor Schreber... we're not trapped. We... we're not alone anymore. We can go out. We can go BACK."

Schreber was silent for a long moment. And then he uttered four simple words.

"But... back WHERE--, John?"

Those were four simple words... that John Murdoch had no answer to.