[ Mace shakes his head, Ian doesn't try again. Yeah, he knows, him too. No point even trying to mouth it right now, they're both too fucked up. A shade shy of the same kind of disoriented they were the day Mace choked him out, a little too unfocused to pick up on morse code. Same dance, different song.
It's only once he sees Mace's limp arm, the way he sports it, that he remembers what he did. Ripped the guy down from a fucking branch, it's a wonder it's only his arm he hurt. That he didn't break his nose on the branch too, that Ian didn't give him a concussion, that his head didn't slam into it or into one of the many rocks and branches on the ground around them.
He takes the hammer, and there's a pretty clear, slightly distressed look of apology on his face. Discontent, flickering from Mace's eyes to the shoulder he's triaging.
no subject
It's only once he sees Mace's limp arm, the way he sports it, that he remembers what he did. Ripped the guy down from a fucking branch, it's a wonder it's only his arm he hurt. That he didn't break his nose on the branch too, that Ian didn't give him a concussion, that his head didn't slam into it or into one of the many rocks and branches on the ground around them.
He takes the hammer, and there's a pretty clear, slightly distressed look of apology on his face. Discontent, flickering from Mace's eyes to the shoulder he's triaging.
He panicked.
I'm sorry. ]