Three whole days had passed since Greg had fallen from the rocks. Seventy-two hours of Nick sitting by his side, sleeping only barely, watching as the man before him was slowly dying. Nick was doing everything he could to help him, but there were very limited resources at his disposal. He went to the waterfall several times a day to get Greg fresh water to drink and fruit to eat, but it was doing very little to help. The wound on Greg's side had become infected, and there wasn't anything Nick could do to stop it. He cleaned it every few hours with salt and then fresh water, but there was so much sand and bacteria in it that he couldn't even see. He scrubbed the injured area to such an extent that the pain of it often knocked Greg unconscious for hours. A thin red line had appeared under Greg's; it was snaking up from the wound towards his heart. Nick knew that was the infection, and soon it would reach Greg's lungs. When that happened, it wouldn't be long before it go to his heart, and then he would be dead.

Nick could only remember contemplating killing one other person. Jeffrey McKeen had been the only human being Nick had ever seriously considered killing, and that was because the other man had killed Warrick and Nick had been given an ample opportunity to return the favor to the former under sheriff. Now Nick found himself contemplating killing yet again. As he laid there with Greg in his arms, trying to keep him warm and comfortable despite their situation, he couldn't help but think of putting the other man out of his misery. He was suffering, and Nick knew that in only a few more days, he would die. Given all he knew, Nick figured Greg had roughly four days left before the infection spread to his lungs and heart, and then he would die a painful death. He spent each day in constant pain; his concussion doing nothing to help matters. Nick knew he would never be able to bring himself to kill Greg, but he comforted himself by promising that in three and a half days, if things were bad enough, he would hold a shirt over Greg's face while he was sleeping until he stopped breathing.

"Are you awake?" Greg asked so weakly that at first Nick thought he had imagined it.

"Yes," Nick replied, shifting their bodies so he could look down at Greg's eyes as they slowly opened.

Greg blinked until his vision cleared and he could focus on Nick. "I need you to tell me the truth."

"About what?" Nick asked.

"Am I going to die?" Greg questioned. Before Nick could reply, the younger man added, "you said before you never wanted to lie to me. That's why you told me about Jenna. So don't lie to me now, not about this. I know there's nothing you can do about it, I just need to hear the truth. From you."

Nick closed his eyes, causing the tears that had built up there to spill down his cheeks. He opened his eyes again to find Greg's locked onto his own. "Your wound is infected," he said. "I tried to get it clean, but I just don't have anything to disinfect it. I tried Greg, I swear I did."

"I know," Greg replied. "Am I going to die?"

Nick nodded slightly and choked back a sob. "Yes," he said sadly. "In a few days, the infection will shut down your lungs and heart." Knowing it was what he wanted to hear, Nick reiterated, "you're going to die Greg."

Greg closed his eyes and pressed himself against Nick, apparently trying to sink himself into the older man completely. "I'm sorry you'll be stuck here by yourself."

"It's not your fault," Nick said. His voice was muffled as he buried his face in Greg's hair, trying to take in as much of him while he still had time left.

"It's not your fault either," Greg replied as he laced his fingers through Nick's. "I forgive you Nick, for Jenna, for everything. I don't care about that now. I know it doesn't make much difference, but I'm sorry I ruined our last few days together. I love you."

Nick squeezed Greg as tight as he could without causing him any more pain. "I love you too. I'm so sorry for everything Greg, I would do anything to change everything. I don't want to lose you, not like this. Not forever."

"It's not going to be forever," Greg assured Nick. "I'll always be with you. Don't you dare forget about me or I'll haunt the shit out of you."

Nick laughed for what felt like the first time in years. "I could never forget about you."

Greg smiled against Nick's chest and calmly drifted off to sleep. He wouldn't wake up again on the island.

Two days passed, and as he was sleeping Greg's breathing became ragged and strained. Nick knew the infection had reached his lungs, and the next twenty hours or so would be Greg's last. When Greg's breathing became more steady, Greg slid out from under him and staggered out to the beach. The sun was high in the sky and he had to squint because he had not been out in the daylight much since Greg had gotten hurt. Nick fell to his knees and held his head in his hands as his pent up anger overtook his body. He couldn't cry or scream or yell; he was too upset and frustrated at the situation to do anything. He could barely breathe and felt like he was having a heart attack.

And then he heard an engine, and the sound of rushing water. But he refused to look up, because he thought his mind was playing tricks on him and he couldn't take any more heartbreak at this point. But then he heard voices, and the engine cutting out, and he finally looked up to a see a small speedboat float up onto the sand a hundred yards away from him with three men inside it, who were jumping out of the boat before it was even stopped and started running across the sand and water towards Nick.

Nick smiled. He couldn't help it. All this time they had been watching the sky, like he had told Greg to do. But Greg had been right from the very beginning. But they still weren't out of the woods, or off the island, just yet.