That cup's getting washed. Possibly thrown away because I have no idea how much is just stuck to it now.

[He eyes the thing on the nightstand with Great Suspicion and concern. There's new lifeforms in that thing, he knows it.

But as for the rest. The journals are put away carefully, and for now, the box goes back to under the bed. They've touched precious little else, really.]

I'll keep it as it was for now. We'll have to come back anyway, that gives me more time to think.