Author's note: Just to answer a couple of questions and comments in reviews: Hank didn't call Ian a jerk in front of too many people. Just a few of the other counselors. And he's a pretty young guy himself and not a professional counselor or anything, so he can be forgiven for being rubbed the wrong way. Thanks for the reviews!

OOOOOOOO

Ian had already dressed in his shorts by the time River, Shawn and the boys joined him in the cabin. River shook his head.

"Swim trunks, Brooks."

Ian shook his head.

"I don't own any swimming trunks."

He was, in fact, wearing a simple pair of shorts. Navy blue canvas shorts with pockets for his car keys.

"I have an extra pair you can borrow…"

Ian snorted, watching as River pulled out a bright orange pair of swimming trunks with big yellow flowers on them.

"I'm not going to wear your clothes, Hayden. I'll go blind."

Shawn grinned and pulled a pair of swimming trunks out of his own bag, turning to the boys.

"You guys better get changed."

For the most part they dove for their clothes, talking excitedly as they tried to figure out what they were going to be doing. Sammy, however, sat down on his bunk, watching Ian, who was studying the bruises on his chest and shoulders. There were several to choose from, and most of them were a deep purple. But they didn't really hurt as much as he expected. It didn't take him long to notice that Sammy wasn't getting ready, though, and Ian turned his attention to the boy.

"Let me guess… you have too many pairs of swimming trunks to choose from and can't decide which to wear…?"

Sammy shook his head, looking down at his hands.

"I don't feel good."

Ian frowned. He'd seemed fine earlier.

"Why not?"

"I just don't."

Too much running too early? Unlikely, since none of the other boys seemed to be suffering. Ian reached over and rested his hand lightly on Sammy's head.

"Stomach ache?"

Sammy shook his head.

"Then what?"

The little boy shrugged.

"I don't know."

By now, Ian had taken a pretty good look, and as far as he could tell there wasn't anything wrong with him, physically.

"You don't look sick."

"I don't feel good. Maybe I should stay here…"

Ah. He remembered the lack of enthusiasm that Sammy had expressed each time water and the waterfront was mentioned, and it pretty much clicked.

Ian moved his hand.

"I don't think you're sick at all."

Sammy looked up at him, and then back down at his hands, and Ian saw a tear fall on the boy's leg.

"I am."

"What's up?"

Ian turned and saw River standing beside him, the Californian looking down at Sammy and then over at Ian.

"He's sick."

"What?"

"He says he doesn't feel well."

"Huh." River reached down and ran his hand along Sammy's forehead, obviously checking for a fever. And not surprisingly, he didn't find one. "He feels okay to me."

Another tear fell, and not even Ian was proof against that.

"He's sick, Hayden," Ian said, shrugging. "Probably his stomach – maybe he ate too much. We'd better not let him swim…"

Sammy looked up, surprised, and River noticed the little boy's eyes were bright with tears. Maybe he was sick?

"Want me to take him to the nurse?"

Ian shook his head.

"You go with Adams and the others down to the water. I'll take him. I don't want to swim, anyways."

"Are you sure?"

River couldn't imagine anyone not wanting to swim. Of course, he couldn't figure out why Ian hated to fly, either, so it was hardly the first time the New Yorker threw him for a loop.

"I said I was," Ian told him. "You guys go ahead. We'll catch up."

"Okay." The boys were starting to gather around, now, already changed into their swimwear with towels draped over their shoulders. "We'll meet you down there."

"Yeah."

With several backwards glances – since the kids felt sorry for Sammy for getting sick right before swimming time – they left the cabin, reverting back to their cheerful yelling and excited chattering only after they had closed the door.

Sammy looked up at Ian, who hadn't moved. He was standing over the boy, his arms crossed over his bare chest.

"You don't have to stay…"

"You're not sick."

The little boy hesitated, and then shook his head.

"I don't feel good."

"Because you don't want to swim…"

"My stomach hurts."

"Should I take you to the nurse and have her take out your appendix?"

This time the look Sammy shot Ian was afraid, and the cadet sighed.

"If you're afraid to swim just say so, Sammy."

"None of the others are."

"So?"

"They'll laugh at me."

"So?"

"So…"

Ian made an annoyed noise.

"Who gives a shit what they say?"

Sammy stared at him, and Ian realized his slip immediately.

"You didn't hear that."

"Yes, I did."

"Now I'll have to have the nurse chop off your ears, too."

Amazingly enough, his small attempt at humor actually made the boy smile. Obviously Sammy wasn't worried about having his ears chopped off.

"Get changed into swimming trunks, Sammy," Ian told him. "We'll go down to the water, and watch the others swim."

"But-"

"Don't worry. You don't have to."

"Promise?"

"Yup. But you do have to be there."

The little boy nodded, and reluctantly got off the bed he'd been sitting on, reaching for one of his many bags. Ian had promised to let him run with him if he woke up, and he had kept that promise. He'd keep this one, too, right?