This time, Thor doesn't grab at the healer or try to pull away, closing his eye for a moment as he takes a breath. There's still a tremor in his hand, and he goes to clasp it with the other before he remembers it isn't there anymore, and has to settle for grasping at his own knee instead to steady himself.

Perhaps it's for the best that McCoy's scans can't get a thorough read on him, because though his worst injuries have healed enough to keep him going, what Thor's body has been through over the past day has pushed even the Asgardian's limits. Recent full-body burns, broken bones that have now knitted together - including a pattern of healed fractures on his temple that looks as if someone had tried to explode his skull from the inside - but the arm is the worst of it, severed in one swing of something incredibly sharp and left exposed, clearly not something done under surgical supervision. Charging into battle with a prosthetic that was not made to fit him has not helped either, chafing away at what's left, and it might be the adrenaline or just that it doesn't hurt nearly as much as the suffocating guilt that haunts his every breath, but he doesn't flinch away from the doctor's ministrations.

The suggestion that Thanos might have affected even the Nexus has Thor's heart seizing in his chest as horror sinks its claws even deeper until he can barely breathe from it. It takes him a moment to find his voice, even as the shreds of rational thought he has left insist that surely the captain would have known, would have noticed if half the population had been reduced to ash. "Has anyone disappeared?" he manages at last.