Lee had just finished patching you up, since you seemed bent on getting injured so often, you were clumsy who could blame you? Lee finished wrapping your latest wound, a small smile on his face as he looked you in the eye, with a chuckle speaking,

"So captain clumsy, what exactly did you do this time?"

He asked, quirking one of his blonde brows, a few more freckles dotted his face; his father had been thinking about him, a nice sentiment. A little way of thinking that all of their godly parents actually cared about them somewhat.

Lee was always a pretty chipper. He worked to the bone in the infirmary and didn't complain much. He was, well, model Apollo kid pretty much. With a Kithara strapped to his hip wherever he went and enough pain meds and bandaids in his cargo pants pockets to probably make a Manticore pass out (To be used responsibly and safely of course).

The son of Apollo busied himself with checking you over one more time. He could never be too sure about your injuries after all. Gentle hands making sure there weren't any more scrapes, scratches, giant gashes that you hadn't noticed yet. Lee was just a mother hen ~~who had to deal with the oblivious nature of most other demigods~~.