James T. Kirk

He felt himself slip a little against the wall as Jim loosened his grip, until he remembered that, yes, his legs did work. And he could use them, no less. "...The encounter was incredibly benign, compared to our last..." Away from the cell, the memory was painful again, but he couldn't hardly pick it out from the general ache in his head. "Because of you, I believe." And he had to thank him, but he had been thanking Jim much too often in the past few days, and his head still hurt. Spock would have to postpone his metaphorical fruit basket of thanks for later.