Alison was awake. She had been awake the entire time he had entered her room and all while he settled into the provided chair next to her bedside. And before that when he left his own bed and his way to her room. The fact of the matter was that Alison hadn't a good night's sleep since going to bed Sunday night—the night before the invasion of Manhattan—and had been awake for the better part of the week. She was freaked out, naturally, having been in traumatizing situation, seeing her boss get hauled away and then the distant sounds of gunshots... She didn't know what happened to him or even if he was alive.
The same situation could be said of her father, who Star had prevented her from returning to her home on Long Island to make sure. He did what he had to—Alison was in shock. And she couldn't very well navigate Nazi-infested Manhattan by herself. What if he was one of the mind controlled masses? Or worse...? Her mind dared to ask.
Then there her and her friends getting caught in the grenade blast—she kept running over the what ifs in her head and every time she shut her eyes a blast of adrenaline would jolt her awake again. At any point that night she could have been killed, she was all to well aware. And she couldn't turn her mind off or prevent it from retreating to those dark corners and after awhile Alison just gave up and took up staring at the ceiling when no one was around.
She made no attempt to hide the fact that she was awake from Star, laying on her back, staring up with her good eye. She had gotten pretty banged up from the blast, half her body was burned and some how she had injured her eye in the process. She didn't even know how, everything was kind of a blur after her friends showed up at the record store, Alison had been running solely on autopilot. She was covered in bandages, her arm wrapped up with gauze as well as her head and injured in.
Finally she glanced over at Star and then back at the ceiling. "Yes."