[@thewizardguy][@remipa awesome]

Shorebirds chirped outside as a pack of them flew past the open window. Mithias stood looking out at the lowering orange sun. He always did like to watch the horizon. Mithias was cleaned from his previous coating of flesh-colored makeup. His skin once again appearing as its natural alabaster. Waves kept crashing in the distance lazily. The thought to never go back to the real world crossed his mind as he looked back at Hank. 

Hank was on a table. Several blood bag were hooked up, emptying through plastic lines into his veins. He had really put the poor fledgling out. 

Finally, consciousness began to return to Hank and his dreams faded from memory. 

"Good morning, Hank." Mithias said from the window, familiar golden eyes finding his son's. "You've been out for 3 days (fudge the time continuum for me, k thanks.). How are you feeling?"