Settling on his haunches, Eddie took the wet rag from Jamie's hand and used a clean end of it to dab at the blood on his calf, a shuddering sigh caught in his chest. He tired not to think about it too hard— about what would've happened if Jamie had really gotten sick or hurt on the island. If they would've left him to suffer, they really couldn't have been very good friends, could they?

Eyes prickling with tears, Eddie blinked them away as best they could, trying and failing to sniffle discretely. "We should really go to the nurse," he said, reaching out to touch the deeper grove of the old scar on Jamie's leg. High on his thigh was a dark mole, just below the bottom hem of his underwear, and Eddie's cheeks flushed when he realized that he was basically eye-level with Jamie's butt.