Grif pulls his head back to try to avoid being touched, but it's not what he expected. He freezes. Something's happening.

"...Rich?"

Rich either can't hear him or can't listen, he's too busy snarling at what's going on in his own head, but he's alive and fighting in there. Grif shouts as he's thrown, but there's hope in it. He hits the deck with a thump that knocks the breath out of him, but then he's using a gantry to drag himself up onto his shaking legs.

"C'mon, Rich!" he yells. "Kick their asses!"

He's helping. Maybe. Hopefully. Fuck it, if there's even a chance it's useful, he's going to yell.