In Sickbay
Doctors very rarely make good patients. Boyce was no exception. The nurses had finally given up on trying to keep him in bed. God forbid he should actually get some rest. Instead he ambled around Sickbay trying to walk off some of the sluggishness that came with heavy painkillers. His arm, now in a cast and wrapped, rested protectively in a sling. It didn't throb and pulse in time with his heartbeat anymore, a vast improvement over when he first entered Sickbay with his wounded Captain in tow.
The circuit through Sickbay always brought him back to Pike. Every five to ten minutes, his eyes would fall on the man's face inspecting his color and movement. Or lack thereof. Then his gaze would shift to the instant readings displayed above. It didn't matter that his head nurse was constantly watching. His trust and faith in her was absolute. He simply needed to see for himself. Satisfied with the state of affairs, he would start the circuit over again.
(ooc: In response to this but ota.)
The circuit through Sickbay always brought him back to Pike. Every five to ten minutes, his eyes would fall on the man's face inspecting his color and movement. Or lack thereof. Then his gaze would shift to the instant readings displayed above. It didn't matter that his head nurse was constantly watching. His trust and faith in her was absolute. He simply needed to see for himself. Satisfied with the state of affairs, he would start the circuit over again.
(ooc: In response to this but ota.)