Tidus doesn't catch the smile, only hearing in tone the light cheeriness that Inigo plants into his words, but he doesn't really mind. He's tired, really; and there's no asking any further questions, none of the concern he might want to voice or for worries to spill out in the usually aggravated way that they do. Tidus accepts leaning his weight on Inigo without complaint, using him more to guide his own feet than he is himself. At least able to stand and move, but any desire or motivation to choose much is...

"Just make sure I healed him right." A muted thing, as calm and low as his voice, like he might drop off. There's a hint of concern there, what amount he can muster, and his head half rests on his own raised shoulder where it curves around the back of Inigo's shoulders, close to brushing the side of his.

"I was going to sleep anyway..."

His way of saying again: It's alright.