The last thing she remembered, before washing up on the shore of some beach somewhere, was falling asleep on the plane. There was no telling how long ago that was, or even how far they had traveled in the air because she wasn't wearing a watch, she typically didn't. She did know that the sun was rising in the distance but that didn't really mean much other than what time it could possibly be. Another wave crashed into her, spurring her into attempting to sit up. As she pushed onto the sand with her hands, she felt a jolt of agony flair through her left hand and then arm. Crying out in pain she sat up and looked at it. There was no way her wrist wasn't broken. She pulled it close to her and struggled to get to her feet, only to realize that her right shoulder seemed to be dislocated.

"Fuck," She whispered. At least an injury like that could be fixed somewhat easily, by ramming herself into a tree or something along those lines, she would probably be able to jam it back into place. From where she was, she could see a jungle type area about two hundred yards in the distance. A place where the sand stopped and grass began, palm trees, brush, and other plants growing there. She started to walk towards it, stumbling a few times before regaining her balance. When she got to the first few trees she leaned against the bigger one and used it to lower herself back into a sitting position, already out of breath and coughing. Not that she was surprised because considering she'd somehow survived a plane crash she was in pretty good shape. She turned to look out over the beach. The waves were pushing up plane debris as well as luggage and in some cases body parts. Had she been the only one to survive? Maybe she was just the only one to get to an island. There was no telling what had happened.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. After a few minutes of this, she used the tree to get herself back up. She glanced at her injured shoulder and then back to the tree. It was really going to suck getting this thing back in the socket but she knew that she was going to have to do it or else there would be even more problems than if she didn't. It also wouldn't be easy to do but if she could get enough force behind throwing her body into the trunk of the tree, it could definitely be done.

"You can do this, Leila," She muttered, "You have to do this, you don't have a choice." Closing her eyes, she took in another deep breath before throwing her body shoulder first into the tree as hard as she could. She felt her shoulder slide back into place and even heard a pop as it happened but it was fucking painful. Screaming out, she fell to her knees, trying to catch her breath. Her vision started to tunnel as the world spun around her. Though she clung like hell to consciousness the best she could, it didn't work. She ended up fainting a few moments later, but she kind of welcomed the darkness once again.

*****

"Hey...hey wake up." A man's voice was telling her as she was also being shaken a bit. The voice seemed very familiar but she didn't know why, it led her to believe she was dreaming at first. With a moan, she raised her good hand without opening her eyes to swat at whoever was bothering her. "Oh come on, you're the only person I've found here that isn't also a corpse." For whatever reason, this caused her brain to recall what was really going on. She wasn't dreaming or in bed she was on a beach. She'd passed out after getting her shoulder back into place by running into a tree. Her eyes opened and she looked up. A man was kneeling over her, he had a minor gash on his head, and a bruised eye. She started to sit up when he reached out to help her.

"You were on the plane too?" She muttered, "Don't remember seeing you there."

"I don't remember seeing you either, but I was on the plane." He replied. Slowly, he sat down in the grass by her side and she could see that something had happened to his leg. Whatever it was, he'd already seemingly taken care of it by wrapping a towel or something tightly around it but blood was soaking through. It made her wonder if he was going to need stitches or not. He would definitely need a new and better bandage than that.

"What happened to your leg?" She asked, motioning to it vaguely.

"There was this huge chunk of metal in it, pulled it out." He said, "It sucked but if that's all I get for being in a plane crash I'll count it as lucky."

"I would too." She said, "It's going to need a new bandage though."

"Yeah, you tell me where to get one of those."

"Probably the beach, there's lots of stuff washing up on shore." She replied, turning to look back out to the shore. Though she didn't know how long she had been out after she fainted, she did know there was far more stuff on the beach now than there had been when she'd blacked out. "I'm also going to need you to take care of this."

"What?" He asked and she held up the arm with the broken wrist. He winced when he saw it, perfectly encapsulating what she felt about it. "How?"

"Just snap it back into place so it can be splinted. Provided I find the right materials to do that." She said, "Stay here, I'll go check the beach."

"How are you-"

"I'm a doctor, technically, mostly I do autopsies but I have a medical degree." She cut him off, "It's the best you're going to get until actual help comes. My name is Leila, by the way. Leila Dawson."

"Like the heiress?"

"Yes, like the heiress." She rolled her eyes because it wasn't just like that, she was the heiress, she just hated when people brought that up as the first thing about her. "Do you have a name?"

"Seth...Macfarlane." He said, slowly, as if he was confused as to why she was asking. This led her to think he must be important or something, that she should have recognized him. That combined with the fact that she believed his voice to be familiar led her to think he was someone famous. That she'd heard him somewhere before. On TV or the radio or something. She didn't know. The name didn't ring a bell at all but the voice did. She'd have just asked him about it but she believed there were far more pressing things to attend to first.

"Nice to meet you, sorry it was like this. Stay there, I'm just going to see if there's any first aid stuff that can be used. I'll bring it back." She told him.

"I can help." He said.

"I'd prefer, with how you're bleeding, you just stay still for a moment, your thigh doesn't look great. I can do it myself, really, my good arm is...well back in the socket." She laughed breathlessly and got to her feet.

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"It is but I guess I can't stop you if you insist on helping." She said then started to walk towards the beach not wanting to waste more time on that pointless conversation. His leg worried her and she was hoping to find any sort of first aid supplies on the shore to use to fix it up, or at least get him to a point where he wasn't bleeding so badly. She wasn't surprised when he didn't follow, but she did keep looking at him over her shoulder as she walked closer to the water. He was leaning up against the tree she had been by, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. He wasn't a bad-looking man at all. She guessed if she had to be stuck on an island with anyone that this guy wasn't one of the worst options she could have hurt for. Though he had to be older than her, it couldn't have been by much, and other than his leg he appeared to be in good physical shape. That would be helpful to both of them in the coming days when they'd need to survive.

Down by the water, she started to look over the items that had washed up on shore, getting down to pull a few things out of the reach of the waves and the tied so it couldn't be swept back in. A few minutes later she came across a very large first aid kit. Something that had definitely been part of the plane they were on. It had foam on the sides, which more than likely kept it from sinking to the bottom of the ocean. The case was metal and appeared to be tightly sealed. It was exactly what she was hoping for. She got down and grabbed it, picking it up to carry it back to where Seth was. She just barely made it over to him before having to drop it, almost collapsing from the pain the weight had caused on her already injured shoulder.

"Okay, so I found this." She said. He opened his eyes to look at her as she opened the case with her one functioning hand. Inside, there was gauze, scissors, a few ace bandages, some waterproof matches, alcohol swabs, waterproof matches, a compass, a pocket knife, a flashlight, some bandaids, peroxide, and a bottle of water. All very basic things but things she could work with. The wound on his leg was just above his knee on his outer thigh, maybe a few inches up. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, looking far more casual than she must have in her business suit. She didn't even have shoes anymore, she'd taken them off to sleep on the plane, he had tennis shoes on. This was just going to make everything harder. "I need to take a look at your leg."

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Yeah," She said, "You can always fix my wrist first."

"I'm not a doctor I wouldn't have the first clue how to-"

"Just kind of grab it and put it back into place so it's not...bent." She said, "You're strong enough, I don't doubt that. Do it fast." He looked at her, skeptically, as she held her arm out to him.

"Then what?"

"Use one of those ace bandages to wrap it up, tight but not too tight. It's the best we have to stabilize it for now." She replied. It would be possible to make a splint at a later time once she found a few good sticks to do it but for now, she wanted to make sure his leg was okay. He nodded slowly, taking her arm gently into his hands. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

"Ready?" He asked.

"I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be." She replied, "Just do it."

"Alright," He said like he didn't sound sure of himself at all but a second later she felt movement in her wrist and heard a bit of a snap as the bones fell back into place and things were straightened out. It took a moment for the pain to catch up to her, so she didn't scream out until he was trying to wrap her wrist up. Her arm was shaking the whole time as she struggled not to pull it away from him. She bit into her bottom lip and continued to hold her breath as the fingers on her other hand dug into the ground beneath her. "There, done, I think." Her eyes opened and she looked down at her hand. Despite the pain of the adjustment there, it still felt better than being out of place. She moved her hand a bit, flexing it slowly and looking at her fingernails to check for circulation.

"That will do for now," She said, "Thanks." After that, she reached forward and undid the towel from around his leg and looked at the wound. It was a pretty nasty one, but she tried not to make a face to indicate how bad she thought it was.

"You do...autopsies mostly? That's what you said?" He asked. "Do you actually know what to do with a live body?"

"Well yeah I told you I have a medical degree, I just don't really use it on patients. That's not my job." She laughed, "Don't worry, you're not going to die. At least not right now. Time will tell when it comes to infections and other things." She reached for the bottle of peroxide in the first aid kit and slowly twisted the top off.

"What is it that you do for a job that you mostly work on corpses?" He asked.

"I'm an FBI agent." She said, "Forensic psychiatrist to be specific but I got an extra certification to do autopsies. I've always been an overachiever."

"Forensic psychiatrist?" He asked, "Wow."

"What do you do?" She asked, "Also this is going to sting so try to hold still." Moving in closer, she began to very carefully pour out the peroxide over the cut which was about four inches long and there was no telling how deep. He yelled out in pain and it was loud, much louder than she expected for whatever reason, causing her to jump, pulling the bottle back.

"FUCK!"

"I told you it was going to sting." She said,

"Not like the...fiery pits of hell..." He panted, "Jesus Christ."

"At least you didn't punch me." She snickered because that easily could have been an option. "It's clean now, or...cleaner, and it's not gushing blood so that's a good sign. Normally I'd ask you to take off your pants but we probably need to stay as dressed as possible here to avoid exposure and bugs and whatever else."

"Yeah," He muttered, his breathing ragged and heavy. "Just uh...finish whatever it is you need to finish." She nodded and grabbed the supplies that she would need to put a clean bandage over his leg and started to get to work.

"So...job? Talk to me. It'll distract you." She encouraged him.

"You don't know?"

"Sorry, I don't. Should I?" She asked.

"A lot of people do." He said, keeping his eyes closed as he rested his head back against the tree, his breathing starting to even out and get less strained as she worked to pad the area around the wound and wrap a bandage around it. "I...I'm a voice actor which is what most people would know me for. Singer, writer, regular actor, producer..."

"Damn, and people think I'm a workaholic." She said, but at least she now knew that she'd probably heard him on TV at some point, or maybe seen him. She didn't watch a ton of TV but she had a friend who did and was always watching something when she stayed over. That was the most she kept up to date on pop culture anything.

"I doubt there's any shortage of work for you if you're an FBI agent." He said.

"Not in New York City," She replied, "Especially not in sex crimes." His eyes opened and he looked over at her just as she finished tying down the bandage that she had put around his leg.

"Sex crimes?"

"Yes, and you don't really want to know the details. Trust me." She told him, "Anyway your leg is...done so just try to take it easy."

"Take it easy? After all of this?"

"You're alive aren't you? We both are. If we are going to survive this then panicking and running around like chickens with our heads cut off isn't going to make things better." She said. As tempting as the idea of screaming for help was, it wouldn't accomplish anything. Nor would crying or freaking out. Their best bet would be to stay put as long as they could, light a few smoke signals, and hope for a search party sooner or later. He was an actor and she was an heiress which meant they were both important enough that the search team would be more desperate for recovery than they probably were on normal terms. Or she hoped that would be the case. There was no way there wouldn't be tons of people trying to find them, dead or alive. She grabbed the bottle of water from the first aid kit and opened it up. After taking a few sips she held it out to him and he took it.

"Thanks." He said softly then started to drink. She shifted so she could lean against the tree where he was, propping herself up so she was looking out onto the beach. The sun had now crested the horizon completely, signaling that it was just past dawn. They would have time to figure out a plan, find shelter, make a fire, and scavenge before nightfall but for the moment she just needed to relax. Maybe close her eyes for just another moment and pray that when she opened them for the third time she would be at home in her own bed. This was not the type of nightmare she believed she was ready to face, but at least she wasn't going to have to face it alone.