"You just missed everything I said about sending me back, didn't you? Whatever, man. I'm not captain material. Leadership isn't my strongest suit." He looked out for himself. He was good at that.

He looks up at him though, watching his face, and trying to see if there's something else. Some ulterior motive hidden that he hasn't picked up on, but he doesn't catch that at all. Course he had to find someone who was genuine. Who actually gave a shit. It only took a decade.

"You make it sound easy," he sets the shot glass down and swipes the beer up, holding it loosely. "You ever think it's something I can't talk about? Maybe I'm not supposed to?"

Maybe someone didn't want him, or any of the others to?

"If I do talk, and I'm not saying I will, okay? This isn't a feel sorry for Jim Kirk thing. I survived it, and it just---it messes with my head sometimes. It'd do the same to you."

And he puts the bottle to his lips with a scoff because he's already said too damn much.

"But that's still an if."