There's general chaos around him. Voices. Sounds. Movement. But he can't make much sense out of it for the first day or two. All Mick can register is a sense of general relief.

He knew the Nerds could do it.

But Cisco's estimation was correct, given the excess of temporal radiation in his system, it's a good two days before he pulls himself towards awareness and to the little dragon plastered across his chest, trilling. He's going to have scale burn for weeks at this rate.

"Mhm. Haircut?"