Jim blew a kiss at Bones in answer. Because really, if he couldn't be a sassy jerk to his CMO, who could he be a sassy jerk to? (The long answer is 'everyone'. The short answer is also 'everyone'.) But he fell silent, under the scrutiny of the tricorder. He hated being examined, had ever since he was a kid, and the fact that it was Bones made it only marginally better than it would have been otherwise.
This? This right here? Exactly why he missed modern medicine. This stuff would all be completely healed by now if he'd just had access to the right equipment, and he wouldn't be standing in front of his Chief Medical Officer like some kid trying to hide dirty hands from a parent at the dinner table. The little noises the tricorder was making actually made him want to reach out, take it away and break the damn thing, but that was hardly a rational reaction to this particular circumstance.
He wasn't dead. He wasn't going to go back home and end up a corpse, even if he couldn't fix everything to be better. And maybe that was the problem. He'd come to terms with his own death, he'd decided he'd do everything he could to stop Marcus, save Pike and his crew and to handle that damned situation with Khan, but he'd accepted the fact that doing all that might still kill him. And now Bones was here, telling him he never would have stayed dead.
Why did he get the second chance? Of all the fucking people in the world-- what made him worth it?
He couldn't think about it. Had to move on. He snapped himself back to the conversation, pinched the bridge of his nose at McCoy's comment about it. "Yeah. Set it myself. It was a few months ago, it's mostly fine now." And then Bones got to the leg.
Jim knew there was no real way he could pass this off flippantly. But he still wanted to choose his words with care, just in case. "Kedan are like-- Christ, I don't know, about twice as strong as normal humans. A friend of mine got in a fight and I stepped in. Hey, a least it wasn't a compound break." It could have been worse.
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This? This right here? Exactly why he missed modern medicine. This stuff would all be completely healed by now if he'd just had access to the right equipment, and he wouldn't be standing in front of his Chief Medical Officer like some kid trying to hide dirty hands from a parent at the dinner table. The little noises the tricorder was making actually made him want to reach out, take it away and break the damn thing, but that was hardly a rational reaction to this particular circumstance.
He wasn't dead. He wasn't going to go back home and end up a corpse, even if he couldn't fix everything to be better. And maybe that was the problem. He'd come to terms with his own death, he'd decided he'd do everything he could to stop Marcus, save Pike and his crew and to handle that damned situation with Khan, but he'd accepted the fact that doing all that might still kill him. And now Bones was here, telling him he never would have stayed dead.
Why did he get the second chance? Of all the fucking people in the world-- what made him worth it?
He couldn't think about it. Had to move on. He snapped himself back to the conversation, pinched the bridge of his nose at McCoy's comment about it. "Yeah. Set it myself. It was a few months ago, it's mostly fine now." And then Bones got to the leg.
Jim knew there was no real way he could pass this off flippantly. But he still wanted to choose his words with care, just in case. "Kedan are like-- Christ, I don't know, about twice as strong as normal humans. A friend of mine got in a fight and I stepped in. Hey, a least it wasn't a compound break." It could have been worse.