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Grant came to the same way he almost always did after non-critical surgery: half sat up, half laying down; blinking up groggily at a familiar ceiling before pulling the thin blanket up over his head.The “no mask while your head is healing” rule was the most stupid ever, and he would be complaining to each of the Mid-Nites about it. Once his mouth didn't feel like it was stuffed full of cotton, that was. Until then, they and the indistinct blur of a ginger sat at his bedside could make do interpreting his largely- displeased mumbles.Wasn't it weird, how many people Grant knew with red hair? He thought it was weird. It made Grant grateful he wasn’t a redhead too; that would just look silly…“Well good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” Oooh, it was Maxine. Maxine always had good snacks.Hold on. Hadn’t he been mad about something?“No way izzit mornin’” slowly, Grant pulled his blanket shield down enough to peer out. The clock, visible over his visitor’s shoulder, left him slurring his words with a sense of vindication: “‘ts almost timefordinner.”Maxine just shook her head at him, smiling. She could be silly too, but in a good way. She was always really nice too, which is probably why Grant though she might secretly be his favorite friend, and also why she knew without him telling to sit on the same side as his good eye.Or rather, they had known, because Grant finally spied his giant of a god brother there too. He’d seen two ginger blobs, go figure.“I managed to wrap things up with the Royal Flush Gang fast enough to come after all, but you were already under.” Al explained. They hadn’t known if he would, hence: one Cyclone, fully prepared to keep Grant from immediately face planting under the influence of meta-grade anesthetics.“Youuu look like a person in a dollhouse,” Grant couldn’t stop himself from cackling, for some reason. His shoulders shook from it. “Always do, on that stupid, tiny chair- but you nexta Maxineee!”Having a smaller redhead for scale made Al look more comical than usual to Grant. Best part was, in his current state, Al wouldn’t so much as flick him in retaliation. He did roll his eyes, though.“If you’re going to laugh at me, you could at least come out from under there.”Grant…considered that, as best he could with a lagging brain. Intellectually, he knew that the pair had been eyeing up his (supposedly; he hadn’t seen a mirror yet) slightly less wreck of a face while he’d slept. But that didn’t mean he wanted to have to look back at them while they looked at him.“Mmm. No.”“Not even for a raspberry smoothie?”“You’ll have to come out eventually if you want to binge that Dark Woods show after all - it’s queued up on your tablet back in your room.”“I helped Al clean your pig stye!”Despite the urge to pout, Grant felt his lips twitch into something like a smile.Sometimes, life surprised him with nice things.