"You bet your ass I do." It's such a relief to hear this tone come out of his mouth, this friendly, easy tone, and to be able to mean it. It's been so long since he's had that with anyone, let alone with his brother, and he's sure it ain't going to last so the words might come out a little quick, a little more desperately cheerful than they otherwise might. His laugh is brief but loud, happiness and relief and the giddiness of seeing a bad time put behind him all mixed up into it, and the hand perched carefully over Ford's head slides down to fit around his shoulders.

"I've cried more tonight than I have in, shit, I think the entire year put together, it's gotta' be this place. Whatever you've been doin' is givin' this place some seriously fucked up dustmites."

He smiles at Ford a second and holds the smile, teeth worrying over the scars on the inside of his lip because this moment can't last, this friendly, easy moment just like things used to be, but if he can get things ending on a high note then, for a little while, everything will be perfect. "Seriously though, you look, uh. You've looked better. I'll have some food waitin' for ya' when you wake up next time, an' maybe then we'll be able to make you look like a halfway productive member of society."