Sometimes Jim really hated the way Bones closed in on himself, and then he hated himself for being such a hypocrite, when he sometimes did the very same thing. Still, it was hard to miss how things were just... unbalanced, sometimes. How Bones was always there to pick up his pieces and patch up his wounds, whereas Jim rarely ever so much as caught a glimpse of the things that weighed on the doctor's mind.

So right now, he was kind of... well, not glad, but relieved he could do this for him. Be here, hold his hands, hope his words didn't come out as weightless platitudes, because he really didn't mean them that way. He wanted them to mean something, anything at all, even if they couldn't fix things for Bones.

"I know you wouldn't," Jim smiled, his tone warm and fond, just a faint trace of guilt to it. Knowing how far Bones would be willing to go just to keep him safe. But then he knew he'd go to the ends of the known universe to do just the same for him, so.

It felt almost like the ground disappeared from beneath his feet when Bones pulled his hands away, but he didn't stop him. Tensing and sitting more upright, his hands settled on his lap again, blue eyes following the doctor attentively, not wanting to miss a single shift, a single word.

He wasn't quite sure what to say to all that, though. His eyebrows knit together, and when he spoke, his voice came out more confused than anything else. "What? You're not insignificant. Where'd you get that idea?"