[chrome]

Rivers managed to settle Roswell down in the sand, propped up against a large rock that stood up among the beach. A hand nervously ran across his mouth as he noticed Roswell's condition getting worse. He knew Roswell since they'd entered college, playing football by the other boy's side for years. Seeing him in the condition, he shook him to his core. He was scared, and he was fucking scared he wasn't afraid to admit it. Green eyes wandered the beach for anyone close enough to help him because he had no idea what he was doing right now.

Roswell's words struck him hard, and he found himself grasping for the wounded boy with unshed tears stinging at his eyes. "I'm not going to let you die, Ross," he murmured back to the blonde who had to have been in shock at this point. Unsure of what was guiding him to do it, maybe reassurance for both of them, he leaned forward to press his lips against Roswell's sweaty temple. A stray hand reached up to wipe away the trickle of blood that trickled the corner of his lip, doing nothing but spreading the crimson further across his cheek. "You're not going to die here. I promise you."

Frantically searching the beach, Rivers noticed Blake and the girl, Lacy, not too far away. Finding his voice, he managed to call the other boy's name with a shaky breath. "Blake," he cried out, unwilling to leave Roswell's side to go and fetch him himself. Blake seemed busy with his own project but Rivers prayed that he heard his frightened voice over the rush of the waves. "Come here." His fingers didn't leave the fabric of Roswell's sleeveless hoodie were they had lodged themselves. "Please help me."