His expression was familiar by now. That glassy-eyed uncertainty that might have meant he was hardly conscious from sickened sleep, or might have meant he was questioning whether she was real, again. She was hoping it would pass, but it hadn't improved in the slightest yet, which did concern her some. "Yeah. 'Course."

Jo crossed the room, picking up a cup that was on the bed table closest to him and finding it empty. "I'll be right back." She almost turned, but she glanced back. "Ice, too? Or just water?"