Willie looked around for something to staunch the bleeding but there was nothing. He pressed Kurt's shirt against the wound. Panic and fear gripped him once more. What should he do? Where should he go? He couldn't take that chance. Safety was the first thing. But Kurt hadn't moved or uttered a sound since the first moan when dragged ashore. A wave of nausea and exhaustion rolled over Willie as he stared at Kurt, bruised and battered and for the first time since he was six years old, Willie openly cried.