Michael's touch was gentle as he moved the ice to look at Alex's hand. Obviously, he knew something about broken bones in the hand, but even beyond that, years of having to patch himself up rather than go to the doctor, plus a pretty firm grasp of biology and anatomy, meant he did know what he was looking for. He snorted slightly at the comment about Alex's dad--he'd happily punch the man (or take a hammer to his hand, so he couldn't disagree with the assessment.
"I don't think it's broken, either," he finally agreed. "But you should keep icing it--20 minutes on, 20 minutes off--and wrap it to make sure. If the swelling gets worse, or it hurts more than stiffness and bruising--go get an X-ray." Hairline fractures sucked, even if there was little to do for them.
He realized he was still holding Alex's hand, and stepped back abruptly.
"Why'd you punch the wall? Regretting inviting me up here? 'Cause I can go..."
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"I don't think it's broken, either," he finally agreed. "But you should keep icing it--20 minutes on, 20 minutes off--and wrap it to make sure. If the swelling gets worse, or it hurts more than stiffness and bruising--go get an X-ray." Hairline fractures sucked, even if there was little to do for them.
He realized he was still holding Alex's hand, and stepped back abruptly.
"Why'd you punch the wall? Regretting inviting me up here? 'Cause I can go..."