"Hm?" Jason looked down and noticed that Death was right, his shirt had been misbuttoned. "Oh. Thanks." It wasn't as if anyone was likely to see him anytime soon (Death excepted, of course, but she'd seen him almost die of smoke inhalation, so a misbuttoned shirt was hardly the worst condition in their history) but he buttoned his shirt anyway.
Questions like What are you doing here? and How can I help you? ran through his mind, but Jason ignored them. He knew why she was there. She was worried about him. It almost brought a smile to his face to know she cared, but not quite. "How are you?"