It was complete and utter darkness when he opened his eyes. His first thought was “Am I blind?” followed quickly by “Am I dead!?”

Neither were true. He spent about two minutes blinking rapidly and trying to look blearily at his surroundings and found that not only was his back hurting like crazy, but every muscle ached as if he’d run several hundred miles uphill. And then been hit repeatedly with a large stick. His head was pounding, making it hard to think, and upon further investigation, he found that there was a huge bump on the back of his head. When he pulled his hand away, he felt a bit of a sticky substance and was surprised (and horrified) to see that his fingers were covered in blood.

He sat up very slowly, looking around wearily and wondering where the hell he was. He noticed that he had been laying somewhere relatively soft, and looked down to find sand all around him. Sand, and water farther off in the distance. In a flash, like a bolt of lightning, his mind filled with images.

The horrible storm had hit them ridiculously hard and tossed the boat all around making it hard to steer, or to see. The only thing he remembered quite clearly was falling down on the boat and striking his head against the wheel before his world went black.

Dom was nowhere to be seen, which worried Elijah, and when he tried to get up he found that he couldn’t get his legs to move. Fearing he was paralyzed, he started wiggling his toes around and bouncing his legs up and down. He could do those things fine, so he attempted to stand up once more.

Elijah screamed out in anguish when he finally got to his feet and nearly fell over again from the shooting pains that ran up and down his legs; his head continued to throb and he pulled his dirty (but dry) shirt off his body and tore it up so he could wrap it around his head, in order to stop the bleeding. Luckily, Elijah had thought ahead and was wearing a t-shirt underneath his button-up shirt.

Once his head was bandaged (he was glad he didn’t have a mirror because he was quite sure he looked atrocious; all beaten and bloody like he’d been dragged through the ringer) he forced himself to his feet once more and shuffled through the thick sand to the clumps of trees at the beach’s end. His hoarse voice choked him when he tried to yell out for Dom.

His heart was beating frantically against his ribcage as his eyes searched through the trees, looking for any sign of life. When he started into the forest (or jungle, which seemed a more appropriate name) he looked back to the beach, surveying it for a body washed on shore, like he supposed his had been. He found nothing, but did see the shambled remains of the ship they’d rented the day before. Or had more days passed? He didn’t know, and looking at his watch didn’t help at all as it just said it was twelve o’clock. Judging by the blazing sun, it was noon rather than midnight. So probably it was just the following day and he hadn’t been passed out for too long. He hoped, anyway.

Elijah picked up the pace as his legs started to get back to normal, finally able to hold his body’s weight. They felt stiff and jell-o like but he pressed on; his only thoughts were of Dom and making sure he’d survived.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he spotted Dom walking toward him with an armload of what appeared to be coconuts.

“DOM!” Elijah called, relief very clear in his strangled voice. He ran to him as fast as his legs would allow (which wasn’t very fast at all) and threw his arms around the British man, sighing heavily with emotion. His head even stopped throbbing for a moment as he concentrated on this near miracle.

“Whoa, Lighe, what happened to your head?” Dom set the coconuts down and peered closely at Elijah’s makeshift bandage. “Are you bleeding?” His voice sounded a tad panicked now and he gingerly pulled the bandage off, cringing and exhaling sharply. “Come on, let’s get this cleaned up.”

Dom led Elijah back to the beach, and made him sit down just out of reach of the tide; Dom tore his shirt off and dipped it into the water, ringing it out before returning to his friend and dabbing incredibly gently at Elijah’s wound.

“It’s not too bad,” Dom said, his voice betraying him.

Elijah smarted, shutting his eyes tightly against the stinging pain. “I think I smacked it against the boat.”

“I’d say so,” Dom replied, carefully wrapping Elijah’s shirt around his head once more. “I must have as well,” he continued quietly. “I woke up with a splitting headache and my eyes were unfocused. I’m quite sure I was concussed.”

Elijah turned his head so fast that his head started throbbing again in protest. He muttered a curse under his breath and then examined Dom as closely as possible. “You look okay now.”

“A sight better than you, I reckon.”

He frowned. “How do you feel?”

Dom shrugged and got to his feet, going back to the water to wash his shirt out. “Better. You’ve been out for hours. I think I was out for at least a day and a half. I felt really out of it when I woke up, and I was bloody starved.”

Elijah sighed and ran some fingers through the sand. “I must have a concussion as well.” His stomach rumbled then, making him wish he was home in his bed and could order some Chinese food from down the street.

Dom glanced over his shoulder, watching as Elijah pressed his fingers against his now covered wound. “Don’t touch it, Lighe, you’ll make it worse.”

“Yes, nurse,” Elijah replied, smirking.

Dom laughed. “Don’t be cheeky.”

The sun was beating down gruesomely on Dom’s exposed skin as he washed his shirt out in the waves, and Elijah felt bad for the sunburn this contact was sure to cause. Elijah was a bit of a know-it-all when it came to sunlight exposure, as he, himself, was very quick to burn with his sensitive skin, so he’d read up on how long it takes to burn in the sun…where they are now, as far as he could guess, it would only take up to five minutes.

As he watched Dom’s determination with the shirt’s slight stain, Elijah felt himself become rather entranced with the vision in front of him. He had never noticed, for instance, how well defined Dom’s muscles were. But, then again, it was probably just the concussion talking.

“Where are we?” Elijah finally asked, his voice a bit of a croak.

Dom got slowly to his feet, ringing out his now clean shirt. He shuffled over to Elijah and lowered himself onto the sand, trying not to jostle Elijah with an elbow that seemed unable to stop sticking out. It didn’t hurt, so either Dom was completely numb to pain now, or his elbow was just being unreasonable.

“I don’t know,” Dom said quietly, looking out at the water and pulling his wet shirt over his head. He shifted slightly and turned his head so he could survey Elijah’s bump. “Somewhere where it’s bloody hot,” he said eventually, his eyes stinging from the salt water he’d bathed himself in, and the sun.

Elijah closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, doing some deep breathing exercises in order to calm his racing heart. All of a sudden he’d realized exactly what sort of situation he’d landed himself in. “What are we going to do?” He pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on a scraped knee.

Dom didn’t answer right away, and Elijah was worried he was angry or maybe had gotten so concussed that his ears weren’t working properly. Then again Elijah wasn’t sure that was even possible. He wasn’t, by any means, a doctor.

“I don’t know, Lighe,” Dom replied, exhaling heavily and leaning back on his elbows. He let out a shriek of pain and bolted upright, rubbing his sticky-out elbow.

“What’s wrong?” Elijah asked nervously, peering anxiously at the elbow in question. “God, Dom, your elbow is like eighty times bigger than it should be.”

Dom looked up, scowling. “Thanks,” he stated blandly. Elijah shrugged, looking sheepish. “I must have banged it or something.” He let out a huff of angry breath. “Jesus.”

“I’m sorry,” Elijah said meekly, his eyes downcast and his shoulders sagging.

“It’s not your fault,” Dom said, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair (which was filled with sand all of a sudden). He shook the sand out and turned to Elijah, his face serious. “We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” Elijah replied sarcastically, laughing in an angry sort of way. “By ourselves on a deserted island with no food to speak of, or fresh water. Yup, we’ll be fiiiiiiiiine.”

Dom stared at him, then reached out and placed a heavy hand on Elijah’s shoulder, making him look up in surprise. “We’ll get through it.”

Elijah shrugged a bit, making Dom’s hand slide down to the ground. “I’m sorry I got us into this,” he said miserably, wanting desperately to scream or cry, or both.

“I came of my own free will.” Dom stood up, looking down severely at his friend. “Don’t blame yourself for this. It was out of our control.” He paused, watching as Elijah blinked against the sun’s rays. “Come on,” he said softly, holding a hand out to Elijah. “Let’s get you some water. I bet we’re dehydrated. Everything will be better once we hydrate, and stuff ourselves with food.”

Even though Elijah was feeling completely despondent, he took Dom’s outstretched hand and allowed Dom to haul him to his feet. The two of them set off toward the jungle, to gather up the coconut Dom had dropped earlier in his haste to fix Elijah’s war wound.

As they walked, Elijah supposed things could be worse. Much worse, in fact.

He could be alone here. Instead, he was stranded on an island in the middle of nowhere with his best friend in the world.

As long as they were together, Elijah felt sure they really could make it through.