“I’ve decided this is no longer fun,” Jim gasped out, as pain radiated up his twisted leg.

“Be silent,” Spock snapped. So much for being unemotional.

“I know, you’re pissed at me because you said not to go this way and I insisted and then I fell and injured myself.”

“You picked up on that did you?”

Jim ignored that and continued. “And because we took a shortcut—”

“An unapproved one.”

“We’re in a remote location wherein contacting the ship for beam up isn’t working.” Jim winced.

“Is the pain worsening?”

“No it’s just as insanely painful as it was when it first happened.”

Spock made a face, no doubt about it. “I will have to carry you out of here so that we can contact the ship.”

“No.”

“Captain—”

“I said no. You go up and contact the ship and then they can beam down security or medical personnel to come and get me.”

“It would be simpler, quicker and more efficient for me to do so.”

“And then if you get hurt carrying me, we’re both injured and unreachable.”

“I will not get injured.”

“That’s an order, Spock.”

Spock briefly looked as though he wished to stab Jim, but he nodded curtly. “Very well. I will go and contact the ship.”

Jim nodded wearily.

“I do not know how long it will take,” Spock advised, reluctantly.

“I know. Just leave me a blanket and a nutritional bar. I’ll be fine.”

“Jim.”

“I’ll be fine, Spock.”

Spock still wanted to argue, clearly. But he pulled an emergency blanket out of a pack and leaned down to cover Jim with it. He then handed him three nutritional bars.

“I will be back.”

Jim attempted a smile. “Yep.”

And Spock was gone.