"Do you want me to kiss it to make it better?" Jack asked, a devilish smile on his face and a cold diet cola in his hand.

Will was looking bashful as usual, his ring finger wrapped in ice. He hadn't said anything about spraining his finger until it became too swollen to hold his spear. He remains silent as Jack lifts his hand and gently brings his lips to the wounded finger, kissing it as lightly as butterfly wings.

"Feel better?" Jack asks.

"No," Will admits. But then he smiles and says in a quiet voice, "but thank you."