Clothes wrinkled, shirt spackled with dried blood, hair unkept and dirty, face weary with dark circles under his eyes and the corner of his lip cut, Percy shuffled out, wearily. It had been the night from hell and though he was glad to know it was almost over, he found himself too numb to feel much of anything at the moment. Spotting George in the waiting room, Percy hadn't expected anybody to be there waiting for him - he had planned to apparate home and recuperate alone. The weight of George's hand on his shoulder seemed reassuring as he kept the gaze. He nodded a reply, but mumbled low, in a tone that showed desperation, "Let's get out of here."