It is nearly sleep, what Lestat lapses into. A rest either way, stillness of mind and body, and kept on task of relaxing, recovery, by the occasional sweep of fingers over his hair, of his awareness of psychic orderliness. No crying fits, no sudden catches of feeling, no spiraling, no repeats of the strange day he'd spent in his hiding place. It even does something to nudge him closer to healing, so when he lifts his head at Daniel's prompt, at his own sense of Louis' presence, injuries twinge a little less.

He stays poised and alert this way for a moment before it becomes plain that the expectation is he will go down to the garage again.

A little groggily human in the way he pulls himself up and off Daniel's lap, onto his feet. Tugging his robe around him.

"For me?" he asks the air, and Daniel may sense that it is not directed to him, that Lestat expects Louis to hear something soft spoken all the way to the garage.