Honestly, it probably would've taken him a day or two before he realized she'd left him there.

Fumbling under his seat for where the cane is stowed, Charlie braces himself on the arm rest. It takes a few moments to get his feet under him and his weight rocked forward, much less actually on his feet, but he does eventually manage it (with apologies to the little old grandmum in front of him, though she doesn't seem to speak much English). Once they manage to change seats, he stretches his leg out into the aisle. And it helps. Some. Or maybe that's the meds starting to hit. Or maybe it's just because if Chloe's by the window, she doesn't have to pretend not to look out it (and might be lacking an excuse to look past him, might not notice if he starts to look a little green around the gills).

A few minutes later though and, no. No, that's definitely the medication.