Pete steps out into the hall for a moment to catch his breath and to give the professionals some room to get the old man out of there. He crouches down against the wall, his heart running a couple of gears too high. He wonders for a moment whether he's hyperventilating.
He's pretty sure that before the TV exploded that he saw... something. He's not really sure anymore what it was, but it wasn't natural. The rationalist in him searches desperately for an explanation, turning things upside down and inside out.
Maybe there was a gas leak in the room... nitrous oxide, maybe. Do they even use that in hospitals? He shakes his head. He didn't smell anything. And he sure as hell didn't feel like laughing....
Looking up, he catches the concerned look of the professor-type down the hall. He shrugs and shakes his head, pushing himself back up into a standing position. He has no idea what to do with himself in this type of situation...
Sticking his hand into his pocket, he starts walking briskly down the hallway toward the waiting room, digging a handful of change out of his pocket. Coffee, he thinks to himself, standing in front of the vending machine and counting out the amount. Coffee will definately make everything better.