He can't imagine what she might be apologizing for, but right now, he doesn't want to ask. That can come later, when things are less emotionally charged, when he's less desperately grateful to simply have her awake again. Instead, he's just kneeling before he gathers her into his arms again, trying to tuck her face against his shoulder as he pats his hand against the center of his back.

Lee's own breathing is, somehow, impossibly level, even if there is a marked delay before he speaks again.

"You'd best be sorry. Thought I made it pretty clear that you'd be in charge of taking Copper out for his walks, and then you up and disappear on me." He has to make a conscious effort to relax his arms; they're on the verge of trembling.