The sun was starting to set, but it would still be a long time before darkness would cover the island for the night. Greg had wandered out of the forest without so much as another word, and purely out of habit Nick followed him, staying far enough behind so that he wouldn't further agitate the younger man. Greg went back into the ocean, floating on his back as he had done earlier. Nick sat back down on the still warm sand. He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, linking his hands together to hold himself in place. He sat there and watched Greg float calmly and peacefully. He knew that if it were at all possible, Greg would have elected to stay like that forever. Floating weightless in the warm clear water, away from all the problems and tensions that life brings. Namely, away from Nick.
The sun was halfway down the sky when Greg suddenly jolted upright. The sudden movement startled Nick, and for a split second his heart jumped into his throat at the thought that maybe a shark had bitten him. His own close encounter had put that as a constant fear in his mind. But when Greg didn't scream out or start thrashing around, Nick knew it was something else. He realized that Greg was staring straight up, watching the sky. Nick turned his own gaze upwards and noticed the plane flying overhead. It was barely more than a speck, but it was definitely a plane. A rescue plane? Could be. Greg certainly thought it was; he bolted out of the water to the beach and without hesitation started for the rocks.
"It's way too high," Nick said, guessing what Greg's intentions were. "There's no way in hell they're going to see us down here."
Greg ignored the other man as if he no longer existed. He quickly climbed the jagged rocks to the very top, the same spot the had jumped off together the first day they had arrived on the island. He extended his hands over his head as he started jumping up and down, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Nick watched as the ex-labrat tried to get the plane's attention, but knew his efforts would be futile. It was only a minute or so before the plane passed directly overhead before continuing on its way over the island, quickly disappearing from sight. But Nick gave up looking at the plane almost immediately. His eyes were still trained on Greg, and he watched as the other man dropped his arms to his sides in defeat. Nick expected him to come right down, but it appeared as though Greg was going to stay up there for the rest of his life if it meant flagging down a plane. Or staying away from Nick.
"Come down Greg," Nick pleaded. He was surprised at how weak his voice sounded now.
"Sorry, I was just trying to get you out of here," Greg mumbled, just loud enough for Nick to hear him.
The Texan hung his head for a second, but raised it in time to be able to see Greg lose his footing when he started to climb down. He lost his balance and started to fall backwards. He regained it for a moment, but then lost it altogether. Nick watched helplessly as Greg stumbled over backwards. Nick could no longer see him and was hoping that his spiky hair would emerge from the other side and Greg would climb up and over to come back down to the sand. When he didn't, Nick knew deep down to expect the worst.
Nick took off in a dead sprint as if he were chasing after a murder suspect. He raced across the sand and around the rocks to the other side, where he instantly saw Greg's motionless body floating in the waves that were crashing against the sharp rocks. Nick didn't slow down one beat. He ran full-out into the water, diving forward through the waves. He had his arms around Greg in seconds. He pulled Greg against him so that the younger man's back was flush against his own chest. Nick leaned back and started kicking as hard as he could, propelling them backwards through the water. He looked down and saw the wound on Greg's forehead that sliced across his tanned skin and disappeared into his hair. The blood was seeping steadily from it, covering Nick's own bare chest. It felt like hours before Nick's feet finally touched the sandy bottom and he was able to back pedal out of the water, dragging Greg out of the water with him up onto the sand.
Nick carefully lowered Greg down to the ground. They were still close enough to the shoreline that when the waves broke and rushed across the sand, the water splashed against Greg's feet and swept up to his knees. But Nick didn't even notice. All he could see was Greg's already pale face, his eyes closed and hair matted to his head. The cut on his forehead was still bleeding, as were the various other cuts he had sustained from the rocks. The worst of them started on his left hip and sliced up and back halfway up his torso and was much deeper than the rest. Nick took only as much time as it took to catch his breath before he swept Greg up in his arms and quickly carried him into their cave to do everything he could to assess the younger man's wounds.
He gently put Greg back down, this time in the raft, on the pile of clothes they slept on to keep themselves warm. Nick used the first things he could grab to put pressure on Greg's wounds to slow the bleeding. As he was pressing against the younger man, Nick leaned over and pressed his ear to Greg's chest. He held his own breath and tried to quiet his own heart beating in his ears so he could listen for Greg's. He felt a soft but steady pulsing against his ear, and he sighed in relief upon the realization that Greg was still alive. So far.
"Greg, wake up," Nick choked out. "Please just open your eyes. Come on man, open your eyes."
He pressed harder on Greg's wounds, hoping that it would jolt him awake and he would sit up and smile as if it were all a joke. He wasn't bleeding so bad anymore, but the damage was still severe and Nick highly doubted they had what they needed on the island to treat Greg's injuries. Nick knelt at his side, tears steadily flowing from his eyes, for over an hour before Greg's eyes finally fluttered open.
"Can you hear me?" Nick asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Greg frowned in confusion, but nodded nonetheless. "Can you see me?" Nick asked.
"Yeah," Greg murmured. He sounded as if he were drunk.
Nick couldn't help but smile at the small battles they were winning at the moment. "Do you remember what happened?"
Greg closed his eyes, but remained conscious. "There was a plane," he said. His voice was so soft and it appeared that it was causing him immense pain to speak at all.
"Yeah, there was a plane," Nick agreed. "You went on to the rocks to try to flag it down. Then you slipped. You're hurt pretty bad Greg, but you're going to be okay. Are you in pain?" Nick asked, even though he already knew the answer. He was just trying to keep Greg awake.
Greg nodded slightly. "Yes," he replied. "My head is killing me. Am I going to die?"
Nick shook his head even though Greg's eyes were closed and he couldn't see. "No, you're not. I'm going to take care of you, I can fix this. You're going to be fine, okay? Do you trust me?" When he didn't receive a response, Nick shook Greg's shoulder enough to garner his attention again. "Greg? Do you trust me?"
Greg opened his eyes and looked up at Nick. "I always have."
"Good," Nick responded. "I need to clean out your cuts. You need to try and stay awake for me," he explained as he began ripping a shirt into strips of cloth.
Greg watched as Nick worked, ripping several strips of different sizes of cloth out of their random assortment of clothes from the washed up suitcase. Then Nick was gone for a few moments down to the ocean where he soaked a few of the strips in salt water in order to clean out the wounds. He returned and knelt next to Greg again with the strips and a bottle of fresh water in his hand. He poured some water into Greg's mouth to quench his growing thirst, and saved the rest to be able to rinse out the injuries.
Nick set the salt water strips next to Greg's side where the worst of the cuts was. "This is going to hurt," Nick informed the other man. "But they have to be cleaned out."
Greg swallowed hard against the pain he was already in. "Okay," he said. "Just do it."
Nick wasted no time in beginning. He grabbed a strip he had soaked in the salt water and ran it over the cut on Greg's side. The younger man immediately screamed in pain and bolted upright, causing himself more pain. He tried to push Nick away, but the older man was stronger. Nick pushed Greg back so he was laying down again and held him there with his left arm as he used his right to clean to wound. The salt water was helping, but causing Greg an immense amount of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, but this did nothing to make it go away. Nick worked as quickly as he could to get it over with, but at the same time had to make sure it was as clean as he could get it. After a grueling half hour of cleansing all of the cuts on Greg's body, Nick finally rinsed them out before wrapping the younger man's torso in dry, clean strips of cloth to keep them clean. He used gauze and steri strips from the first aid kid they had found in the raft to cover up the cut on Greg's forehead. When he finished, Nick sat back on his heels and stared down at the injured man before him.
"It's over," Nick said gently, taking Greg's hand in his. "It's all over."
Greg was breathing so heavily that he could barely hear him. Nick gave him more water and slowly ran his hand through Greg's hair to try and calm him down, but it took a while before Greg's breathing returned to normal. It went from heaving to ragged and shuddering, but at least he was breathing, Nick thought.
"I was just trying to get you out of here," Greg said, keeping his eyes closed to lessen the severity of the spinning of his head.
Nick hung his head and squeezed Greg's hand. "I'm just fine here, with you. You have to stay awake with me for a little while, okay? You have a concussion. I can't let you go to sleep."
"Why not?" Greg asked in frustration. "I'm so tired. I don't feel well Nick. Just let me sleep."
Nick understood the severity of the situation at Greg's ramblings. He didn't comprehend what was going on; his concussion was very serious. "I can't."
"Why?" Greg demanded.
"I'm afraid you won't wake up," Nick answered honestly.
Greg sighed sadly. "You said I was going to be okay," he reminded Nick.
"You will be if you stay awake with me. Just keep talking to me. I know it hurts, but it's going to get better. I promise."
Greg didn't seem to believe Nick, and Nick didn't even believe it himself. He wanted to, but everything he knew about their situation was telling him that Greg wasn't going to make it. His wounds were going to get infected, there was very little that could be done about that. His concussion wasn't being treated properly. Greg was going to get sicker and sicker and die within two weeks.
And all Nick could do was sit at his side and watch.