Alex doesn't even feign the sigh of relief as Poe seems to hear him and turns his way.

"Thanks... I was worried there might not be anyone in good enough shape to help."

He sees the other man looking him over as he approaches, his gaze settling in the shrapnel in his leg. Alex can practically taste the other man's confusion at what he's seeing. When Poe comments that there's no blood coming from the injury itself Alex nods, expression a bit wry. His jeans were a mess and pretty much shredded on that side of his thigh, but it was true; the wound wasn't bleeding anymore.

"I heal fast... unfortunately there was still shrapnel." Alex shifts, a grimace crossing his features as muscle protests and spasms, skin tightening around the metal on either end of the puncture wound.

"It's gotta come out," he breathes through his teeth, golden eyes watering. "It's going to suck and I have no idea how bad it's going to bleed, but it's gotta come out or the longer I wait I'll continue to heal around it." And it would be even worse when they had to cut it out then. The muscle and tendons hadn't had a chance to heal around it, yet, but they would and then it could possibly cripple him for days while he healed.

"I don't suppose you've got it in you to jerk this thing outta my leg? I can't get a good angle to do it myself."

Please don't make him try to do that on his own, Poe... he'd likely do himself more damage.