Lee lays still, blinking and squinting while her eyes finish adjusting to the light. When she can keep them open, she pushes herself up on her elbow until she's sitting up, knuckling at her eyes. Twelve forty-eight. She is very thrown off by a change in routine, it takes her a moment to remember the date. The fifteenth.
Oh.
She puts a hand, tentative, on his back, near his shoulder. She has, of course, noticed that he hasn't been doing well lately. She's just not sure what she can do for him when he goes somewhere out of her reach. Lee is not sure how to get him to talk about it, or if doing so will only hurt him.
"Are you okay?" It's a stupid question, she knows that before it ever leaves her mouth, but she still has to ask. There are different degrees of 'okay': functioning, struggling, not hurt, treading water.