Kirk was quiet for a moment, letting Chekov work. Slowly his arms came up, wrapping around the younger man and pulling him into a hug. He sighed, holding him there for a moment, his wound able to be ignored for just a little. He let out a quiet sigh, wishing he knew the better things to say here.

"I wish I knew what to tell you, to make it better," he said quietly. "I'm sorry that you are suffering, but in a way I am also glad. If that had been easy for you, I would be worried. But I do understand what you're feeling. I hope that brings you a little comfort at least."