The trees seemed to close in around them; their vast height made them appear like arms stretching out of the ground, and their branches were fingers clawing the darkening sky as twilight settled. There was an abundance of purple flowers by one tree, making it look much prettier than the others that were covered with dead grass. It was the same place they'd made camp at when they were looking for Bigfoot.

Spencer ran to get his equipment, so the rest of them stepped outside. There was a patch of dirt with some burnt marks on them. Surely a place to light your fires. Freddie knelt down and grazed his hands along the ground: it felt fresh, like the last person on this spot had left that day.

"We should collect firewood," he said, standing, "before nightfall." He wasn't going to admit it, but being out in the dark gave him the heebie-jeebies. And being in the woods didn't help that fear. Just imagining the things lurking about within the trees sent shivers up his spine.

"Not me!" Sam called, going for the RV but Carly grabbed hold of her arm. She swung her back around, and Sam was grimacing. She didn't like work of any kind unless it involved squishing a fork in food and lifting it up to her mouth—and even that exhausted her occasionally.

"Yes you." Carly said, releasing the blonde, "Well, you'll have to do something—there's a lot of work in camping." At this Sam moaned in a childish way, scrunching her eyes shut as if in pain. She leaned against the RV, crossing her arms, stubborn.

Spencer came out that moment, lugging his beavecoon-catching equipment. His eyes sparkled with delight as he dropped it all onto the ground and began sorting it out. "Can some of you help me set this up?" he asked. Sam attempted to sneak back into the RV again, but Carly predicted this action, and grabbed her before she could.

"Your pick, Sam," she said, "Beavecoon or firewood." Sam was planning to say "beavecoon"; she'd be close to the RV (and more importantly the food) and if she got lazy, she could just walk the short distance to the camp. But as she watched Spencer and his odd contraptions, she began to doubt it was a good choice. Still, the idea of darkness in the forest painted a grim picture…but she wouldn't be alone. If she took Freddie, the bears could maul him first—problem solved.

"I'll get the wood." she groaned. Carly smiled and nodded, patting her friend on the head. Sam glowered at her, and she steadily took her hand away.

"Gibby and I'll help you, Spencer." she said to her bro, but he wasn't listening; he was trying to figure how the stuff worked, making Freddie nervous.

"C'mon, Freddork, let's get this over with." Sam said, taking Freddie's hand and dragging him off. He stared after his equipment. My babies… he thought pitifully, Oh, I'm glad Sam didn't hear that. The mismatched pair walked into the trees in search of firewood. Neither liked being stuck with the other—they weren't very…compatible—and a fight was sure to break out sooner or later. They kept in silence for awhile, their eyes scoping out the forest floor. Nothing but measly twigs and bushes appeared, disheartening Freddie the most. He was glancing over his shoulder a lot, worried some hungry animal would come out of the brush.

"Afraid of the vampires?" Sam teased. Freddie blushed and pretended he was simply brushing something off his shoulder but Sam was not easily fooled.

"Nah." he said, stealing a peek behind him again, "Besides there are no such things as vampires!"

"I don't know…" Sam said, innocently clasping her hands behind her back and rocking on the soles of her feet like a little girl, "They sure like Washington…" An unnecessary chill crept up Freddie's spinal cord. He knew she was just trying to rile him up, but he couldn't help but feel creeped out by the tone of her voice.

"Oh, just get wood." he snapped, turning away so as not to grow more scared. He heard a snicker from the blonde, but ignored it and kept his eye out for logs.

"Or maybe the Dementors'll get you!" she said.

"Stop that!" Freddie cried, his voice cracking. Her words of Twilight and Harry Potter things kept frightening him but he refused to show it; rather he pretended to be angry. She may get Ds, but Sam's smart enough to tell when he was lying.

"You read too much, like, seriously." she said, kicking a rock, "You get scared too easily."

"Ah, shut up." Freddie mumbled, turning cross. Sam sniggered at him, and the two returned to acting quiet.

The sky had already started to become night. Both teenagers became agitated that neither brought a flashlight. In awhile, darkness would cover the forest and they'd be in trouble.

Freddie kept his vision hawk-like: he searched every single last nook and cranny for a sign of wood big enough to burn. Every once in awhile he spotted a nice good log and he picked it up quickly. Soon he had about five logs. He struggled to hold them—they cut the skin on his hand and splinters injected themselves into his palm, causing sharp pains every time he flexed his hands, which happened a lot. He whimpered as another piece of wood sliced through his skin.

"You okay, Freddison?" Sam asked, looking genuinely worried. He nodded, biting down hard on his lip.

"F-fine…" he stuttered, trying hard not to move his hands. Sam stared at him as he attempted to pick up another log from next to a bush: he let out a moan as the wood cut deep into his flesh, and he closed his eyes shut tightly.

She stepped forward immediately and stretched her arms out. He stared at her in confusion, frozen in place.

"What?" he asked, cautiously looking over her hands. She sighed angrily—was he really this stupid?

"Give me the firewood, Benson." She said, "You can't do it." Freddie took this as an insult—who could blame him?—and refused to hand the wood over.

"I—can—do—it." he grunted, lifting them up over his shoulder. He winced as the wood cut into his ear. Man, that's some sharp wood, Sam thought. She, however, being stubborn, reached out and yanked the logs out of Freddie's grasp. He tried to get it back, and they ended up in a tug-o-war for the firewood. The only problem was Sam was stronger so Freddie would end up hurt…again.

And so, Sam, growing angry, attempted to move her hands to get a better grip. But instead she ended up letting go and Freddie, surprised, didn't have time to move before the block of wood smacked his face hard. He cried out and dropped the log, clutching his nose, and stumbled. The splinters were in his cheeks and blood was pouring from his nose. He put pressure on the hurting spot but that caused him to not notice he was walking closer to a rosebush. At least, until he fell in and a thousand thorns pierced his back.

'~**~'

Gibby wiped the sweat from his brow as he picked up the camcorder. Spencer eagerly reached out to grab it from up the tree and Gibby gladly handed over the heavy equipment.

He and Carly watched as Spencer wrapped a rope tight around the camera. It dangled a few feet above the ground (the rope was a bit long) and Spencer was trying to get it to stay up higher. Carly and Gibby were aiming to plant another camera in a tree a bit farther away. Carly had changed into shorts that reached above her knees and a white tank top that she was okay with getting dirty. Gibby kept staring at her, thinking about how beautiful she looked. But he tried to shake this feeling away; he knew a guy like him wouldn't stand a chance with a girl like her. Besides he didn't even like her like that…no, he didn't…

Carly put her foot against the tree trunk and reached for a branch but ended up falling. Groaning, she stood and tried jumping up to grab the branch but still it remained out of reach. She sighed in frustration. She saw Gibby looking up at the tree and she pondered if he could lift her. He looks strong enough, she thought, absentmindedly staring at his arms, which held no visible muscle.

"Hey, Gibby, can you give me a hand?" she said. He looked back at her and reddened.

"S-Sure…" he said, "What do you mean?"

"I mean lift me up so I can grab that branch." Carly replied, pointing at the nearest limb of the oak. Gibby shrugged and knelt at her feet. She carefully stepped onto his shoulders. He let out an "Oomph!", showing the heaviness of the girl.

"Oh, Gibby, you don't have to do this if it's too tough!" Carly said, halfway stepping down. Gibby felt sad at the fact she knew he wasn't strong enough, but he wanted to prove her wrong—or, more desirably, impress her—and said "Nah, it was just a five-second thing. I can carry you." Carly raised a skeptical eyebrow, not fully believing him.

"Well…alright, you sure?" she asked, moving nearer to him. He nodded vigorously and got into a racer position, wanting her to get on. She shrugged mentally and hopped atop Gibby's back. He let out another strained breath but ignored it best he could. He stood, holding Carly's ankles so she didn't fall, and moved closer to the tree. She outstretched her hands and grabbed the closet branch, pulling herself up with much strength. She groaned and gritted her teeth, trying to get off Gibby's shoulders. She tried many times but just couldn't get it. Pretend it's gym class, she told herself, and that this is the pull-up bar. She imagined being in Ridgeway's gymnasium, about to get up on the bar. She gripped the branch tighter and yanked upward, but to no avail.

Oh, I forgot that I suck at gym class! Carly thought angrily. She looked down to see Gibby was shaking under her weight. Now, she wasn't pudgy—she was getting curvier everyday—but over one-hundred pounds of girl was a lot for a Gibby to handle.

"Give me a push!" she yelled, hoping she wasn't hurting him too much. He let out a whimper. Be a man, Gibby! he thought. With all his strength he stood upon his tiptoes, heaving his shoulders up. Carly was close enough now, and she pulled up onto the branch. She told Gibby to let go and he did gratefully.

The branch was wobbly at first but Carly quickly got the hang of it. She kept on her knees and the palms of her hands. She looked around and realized for the first time just how high she was. The many trees around her seemed so big and so near; she felt she could hop from treetop to treetop—almost like a sidewalk. The only difference being if she fell she wouldn't receive a scrape—instead she would break her neck and die. Big difference.

Swallowing her newfound fear, she gazed down at Gibby, who was watching her intently. She said "Send the rope up!" He nodded and bent down to grab the sturdy rope by the pile of supplies. He twisted it like a lasso and threw it up to her.

An ingenious idea had popped into Carly's head. She was unsure of whether or not she should do it but—staring at the ground below that seemed so dangerous—finally decided yes. She tied the rope around her waist. When she knotted it, it pushed some air out of her, making her dizzy for a moment. She loosened it ever so slightly, and then threw it above a higher branch. She gulped and unsteadily stood. Gibby instantly became alert and he put his arms out to catch the Shay girl should she fall. A delicate person such as her couldn't get hurt; Gibby knew that.

She securely tied the rope around the branch above her. There. she thought proudly, If I fall I won't get hurt now. She then got back onto her knees, feeling safer, and told Gibby to send another rope up for the camera. He was a bit confused why she needed two ropes (for Spencer used only one) but did as he was told. He did the same action for the first one, and she happily knotted the rope round the camcorder. After being one-hundred percent sure the camera wouldn't escape the rope's grasp, she lowered it to the ground. Then she tied it around the branch she was on, after making sure it was just right—no person or "beavecoon" could spot it now.

"Awesome." she whispered, then louder, "Okay, Gibby, I'm ready to get down now." She slowly descended the tree when she lost her footing.

She tumbled downward, shrieking girlishly. Was this the end for her? No! She had the rope tied up there! But…would it hold…?

Gibby, upon hearing her screams, rushed to the spot where she was falling down. Oh man! he thought, What do I do? He instinctively put his arms out again, ready to catch her. She got closer and closer…

With a small boing Carly was no longer falling. She was instead hanging upside down by her waist, and it was not comfortable. Gibby was immensely relieved to see she was not hurt.

"Uh, Gibby?" Carly asked timidly, the blood already rushing to her head.

"Yeah?" Gibby replied.

"Untie me!" Carly shouted, for the rope was digging into her belly. Gibby nodded and reached his hands around her waist to untie her. It felt…awkward…to be holding Carly almost in a hug, an embrace—except she was upside down and irritated.

After getting her down, she landed halfway in his arms. He steadied her quickly, wanting the awkwardness gone. She smiled at him, having felt the awkwardness too, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, thanks." she said.

"No prob." he said. The two stood in silence. He's so much stronger than he looks… Carly thought admiringly, Oh, shut it, Shay! You have no feelings toward Gibby! But he was strong…very masculine-like strong, though it didn't show…

The awkwardness of the situation diminished completely when the teens heard a moaning and yelling from nearby. Carly immediately thought it a bear and jumped behind Gibby. But the noise came from no bear—not even close. Out of the thicket came two teenagers much like Gibby and Carly. One was a boy, who was moaning and walking oddly with logs in his hands; the other a girl, holding the boy at a weird angle, as if to keep him from falling. The teens were none other than Sam and Freddie, returning to camp. And it seemed as though they had an interesting adventure.

After Freddie had fallen into the rosebush, pain had stabbed him like a fiery trident. Hundreds of thorns dug into the flesh of his bare body, poking cuts into him, making blood squirt out. It didn't help he was prone to excessive bleeding. He wailed like a dying animal and Sam came to his aid.

"What, Freducation?" she had asked, keeping her usual Sam-ness, but still showing compassion. Freddie pushed his lips together and whined like a dog; he didn't want Sam to see him in pain or know he was in it. He wanted to prove he was strong, was a man—but, boy, those thorns hurt!

He tried to stand but the pain was strong; he toppled backwards. Sam reached out and caught him, lifting him into a standing position. She turned the boy around and saw several thorns poking outward from his back. She winced at the sight—no wonder he was whimpering like a dying animal.

Sam touched the heinous thorns, and Freddie cringed. She decided she'd just have to yank them out, one by one. She put her fingers around one and pulled. A droplet of blood was visible on it and on his back. Freddie uttered an "Ow!" but Sam just pulled more out. Blood-red drops trickled from the thorns but Sam kept yanking them out of his backside, not bothering to take note it hurt him to no end.

After the last thorn was out, Freddie turned round. His face was pale and scrapes from the wood were evident on his face. He wasn't very comfortable and he wasn't very cheery. Sam smirked and raised her hands up innocently. "Better?" was what she asked. Freddie sighed, rubbing his aching back.

"Is it bad?" he asked, lifting his shirt up and turning round again. Cuts were many on his back and it was smeared red. It wasn't a huge blood loss but Freddie, being prone to excessive bleeding, should've been at the camp, resting.

"Not that good, Fredlumps." Sam said and he groaned. "But we'll just get you to camp and was you up."

"Good." Freddie said. He picked the wood up, mumbling his discomfort, and then moved forward but the pain shot through again, and he wobbled. Sam took hold of his shoulders and walked him forward slowly. She being stronger and holding him helped Freddie and they walked that way back to the campsite. However, to Freddie it was awkward having Sam help him by holding onto him and he wanted nothing more than the feeling of her closeness to go away. But he also enjoyed it.

Sam felt the same. The nearness of the two discomforted her, but she was also enjoying being so close to Freddie. His warmth was comfortable out in the dark woods but she'd never let on.

Soon they saw Gibby and Carly, and they happily picked up their pace. The others greeted them with waves and they waved back, moving near the fire pit. Freddie dropped the logs down and sat on the grassy ground, grateful to rest. Sam still held his shoulders as he descended, but hastily retracted them when she noticed. Gibby and Carly walked up to the two.

"Thank goodness all that work's done." Carly sighed happily, and everyone agreed. Suddenly there was a yell and a loud impact. The four teens looked to the source and saw Spencer crawling off his back.

"I fell out of the tree!" he announced. They laughed, for Spencer was okay, and Carly went to get her brother back on his feet so they could make s'mores.

Sorry about how long it was! I might publish another Seddie during this because, even though Cibby is cool, I want one that's fully Seddie! But in the meantime, what did you think of this?