A sight for sore eyes. That was what Caesar was -- a bit literally, for that matter, with his telltale bright red hair. Albert stared blankly at his younger brother as he knelt next to him, trying to work up the annoyance he knew he should have felt at that look on the other's face.

He did not like to be pitied, but he just could not find it in him to care at the moment.

Instead, his attention focused on Caesar's halfhearted joke of a greeting. "You're one to talk ... about sleeping all day," he muttered. "How long have I been...?"

Other questions could come later. He needed to settle his internal clock, one way or another.