If Grant had any doubts about whether or not he would be accepted back into the Titans, they have long since passed. Donna's rescue mission to Newark, the flight home, the briefing with Kory and Vic, and a talk with a very happy nine-year-old almost made it seem like he'd never been gone. Almost. Certain things had changed significantly in the last few years: Lian was four years older, there was a new Tower in San Francisco Bay, and there's apparently a new Titans apprentice who makes a mean bowl of pasta. Two days ago, he'd been wondering whether he'd have to sleep on a park bench somewhere in New Jersey. Apparently, one really
can go home again. Even
Lian had known that he would come back.
Grant had slept, heavily, until rather late in the morning. There could be some early days around here, he remembers, particularly when Roy decided it was time for some pre-dawn outdoor training. And, somehow, Grant never got the briefing about such training sessions, so he always showed up with his hair in some rather extreme state of disorder, bleary-eyed and yawning. Those counted among the times when Grant
really hated Roy. Today, however, he was allowed to wake up at his leisure, shower, change - somehow someone had found jeans and a t-shirt that fit him - and ice down his bruises.
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