Bones wasn't wrong there, and even now Jim's mind was working at a dizzying speed, trying to put the pieces together and figure out what was bothering Bones so much. It showed on his face too, like when he was working on a riddle or playing a game of chess— or facing a particularly difficult mission while sitting on his chair. Except this time it felt much more important.

His eyes fell to Bones as he kneeled next to him, his hands almost immediately reaching for Bones's when he could still feel them threatening to shake all over again. That answer just wasn't good enough. It just wasn't good enough for him to forget about it and sweep it under the rug when it was affecting Bones this much.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe it won't fix anything," he started, knowing all too well that talking could only do so much. But silence just wasn't an option, not for him. "But maybe we can share the load, at least?"

As much as he wished he could take a guess at what had brought this on, right now he really had no idea. It probably showed on his face just how clueless he was about the whole thing— or else he'd have addressed it directly by now. "Please, Bones. Talk to me."