Despite earlier mental images, Kyle isn't thinking that he's being distracting. Much as Alex has forgiven him, he's still not sure why... and he's not sure why he is even having those kind of thoughts except that he's dealing with so much stress right now that he's obviously not on an even keel.

It's going to take a marathon of morning runs to even get close to clearing his mind to the point he isn't going to panic every time he gets started. He can only hope nothing makes a loud noise in surgery any time soon.

"I'd like to never think about Jesse Manes and fucking, thank you," he mutters, sounding like he's back in high school. "Between that and two Maxes I may be forever turned off, thanks."

It's childish and silly but God, it's what he needs right now.

"I can..." He looks down, realizing his tee is still rucked up. "Shit, my bad." He tugs down his tee. "Want to hear something stupid? All this panic, the worry, and I know it doesn't change shit when a gun is involved, but I literally do boxing training like twice a week, and I never would have thought to throw a punch. Nope. Just never thought about the fact that I train in self defense."

Because he knew with this enemy it wouldn't be enough.