Javier hissed a mierda as you pressed an alcohol-soaked cloth to his leg, hands balling into tight fists. "Dulce madre de— can you be any gentler, por favor?"

You were on a boat back to America. Javier was hurt, quite badly so, having been shot and beaten whilst on the island. There hadn't been time before to do much more than slap some gauze on it, but now you had the opportunity to give him some better treatment.

Javier grunted slightly, leaning his head on the back of the chair he was sat on, grabbing a bottle of rum from nearby and taking a swig to hopefully dull the pain.