"Oh, yeah. Got it out." He put a hand over his chest. He missed it. The faint taste of coconut always on the back of his tongue, the glow at night... It had made him who he was. It had been his turning point. And sure, getting the shrapnel out of his heart was way more important that the hardware, but the scar hurt him more than the reactor ever did.

"But I'm fine. Medically, better than fine."

He wouldn't say it if he was otherwise any way. That was just the sort of man he happened to be. Suffering in silence was sort of like his penance.