The tension is thick enough to suffocate, and Leonard doesn't know how to make it dissipate. This was supposed to make things better, or at the very least easier, but none of this feels like either of those things.

The questions startles a realization from him, though. "Oh. Uh- no, I didn't," he mumbles, shaking his head a little. "But I'm...not really hungry." He shrugs a little, awkward, stiff, no clue what to do with himself, his hands or his head. He folds his arms across his chest, a silent and, admittedly, mostly subconscious, barrier from the awkward tension in the room, and the reason it exists in the first place.

"Probably can't sleep now, anyway," he adds, unhelpfully. He isn't sure what time he passed out, but he's willing to bet he got a good three or so hours and...Leonard knows himself pretty well. Sleep doesn't come often, and it doesn't happen quickly on the heels of a nap, either.

He's not sure what that leaves, given Mick's options, there, and he probably looks just as lost about that fact as he feels.