"No," he answered initially which was the perfect answer to all three questions. No, he was not okay. No, he was not sick. No, there was nothing Sirius could get him. As soon as he felt a hand, he jerked back instinctively, the pressure too much. It felt like his skin was heavy or like even the slightest touch would make him crumble in on himself.
With an exhale, he gave up so quickly and unburied himself, sitting up with his back against the headboard. Teddy pulled his knees to his chest, one arm across them so he could lay his head down. His other arm curled around the back of his head, long limbs forming a cocoon of sorts. His eyes were red, face blotchy, dried tear streaks on his cheeks. "I'm sorry. It feels weird being touched right now. I'll... be at breakfast tomorrow if that's what you're worried about." He wouldn't necessarily eat but he'd be there.