It had to be him. The sardonic answer could not have belonged to anyone else. And, despite the severity of the situation, the slightest hint of a smile crossed his face. It was masked, however, but the lack of a smile in his eyes. His eyes showed more fear than anything else. Worry. A sadness to them, maybe. Because Grantaire looked like hell.
That didn't stop him from coming to kneel beside his friend. The man who had stood by him through everything, even sometimes in obvious reluctance. Paying no attention to the dirt, the dried blood, the smell of sickness and fear and sweat, he reached forward and pulled Grantaire into a tight hug.
"I thought...most of us returned yesterday. I thought you weren't returning." His words were stilted. Grantaire truly didn't look like he cared to be back at all but that wasn't his problem. He'd deal with that later. Right now he just needed to feel the physical presence of a man who meant far more to him than either of them probably wished.
Which was when it hit him. Of course. There hadn't exactly been alcohol in an arena meant for children. His friend was likely in the end stages of withdrawal.