Paul bolted up from his chair, his nerves endings electrified with warnings from the past. He clutched at the beer bottle in his hand before it slipped from his fingers to fall to the floor. Setting the bottle down beside the chair, he took a deep breath and decided to get ready for bed, even though sleep was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I wonder if sleeping problems can be inherited from your kids," he muttered, but the humor fell flat as it echoed in the lonely room.

There were some yellowed novels sitting on a bookshelf in one corner. Curious, Paul went to read the titles, surprised to find 'A Midsummer's Night Dream' by William Shakespeare among the collection. Of course, it was the Spanish translation, but that wasn't a problem for Paul. He took the book with him, but knew he wasn't interested in reading Shakespeare right then. Nor was he interested in any other author he had with him. Nothing held his interest but thoughts of home.

Flexing his fingers as he sat on his bed, he wondered if Annie was getting enough food and rest. Her vigils at the hospital with Peter usually took more out of her than she would freely admit.

He relaxed slightly as he remembered Kermit would be lurking in the background to ensure her well-being. Still, it wouldn't be an easy time for her. He swept up the book, and threw it hard across the room. He was rewarded with a dull thud as it smacked the wall and dropped to the floor.

"So much for the enlightened reserve of age," he muttered to himself as he rubbed his neck.

He picked up the discarded book, muttering self-recriminations to himself as he moved and set it back on the bookshelf before returning to his bed.

A thought occurred to him, and he got some paper to write a quick letter to Annie. Maybe putting his thoughts to her in writing would give him enough peace to finally get some sleep. He had written a few lines before he sat back and closed his eyes, knowing the letter was one he wouldn't be sending.

Annie didn't need to hear of his dark fears. It would only upset her and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Crumpling the paper, he let it fall into the nearby trash can. He'd take care to burn it in the morning.

"Peter, what am I going to do with you?" he asked, thinking of his son in a hospital bed once more. He scratched at an irritation on his brow. Somehow, the thought of hospitals reminded him of how he and Kermit had found Carolyn on that dreaded night.

oOoOoOoOo

"Paul, over here!" Kermit shouted.

Paul turned and his heart leapt with the sight before him. Caught in the beam, he saw Carolyn as she collapsed into Kermit's arms. In seconds, Paul was clutching his daughter close to him.

Carolyn was a trembling, disheveled mess, but she was alive. Her damp nightgown and robe clung to her like a shroud, and there was dirt and mud caked to her clothes. Worse, she was shaking violently from the cold. Paul pulled off his jacket and draped it around her, but it seemed to be too little to help very much. Carolyn looked close to total collapse, not even recognizing the presence of her father as one of her rescuers.

Breathlessly, she gasped the words, "My brother, he's..."

Her feet gave out from under her, and Paul helped ease her to the ground. In the meanwhile, Kermit had pulled out a emergency mylar blanket. The blanket was thin, it reflected up to ninety percent of a person's body heat back to them. He tucked it around her, and then opened a thermos of coffee, bringing it to her lips.

"Careful, it's hot," he warned softly, looking across at Paul with worry.

Once Carolyn had sipped the coffee, Paul brought his face close to hers. "Honey, it's Dad. Carolyn, don't you know me?"

He wiped at the water still on her face. Thankfully, the rain had stopped, but that fact didn't diminish his concern as he glanced up to meet Kermit's gaze again. The silent exchange told him Kermit was just as worried as he was about Carolyn, but Griffin went into action while all Paul could do was hold onto his daughter.

The younger man reached into his backpack again and brought out a small object about the size of his hand. He squeezed it, and there was a small pop. Shaking it rapidly, Kermit placed it in Carolyn's trembling hands. Carolyn took hold of it immediately. Apparently, the warmth the chemical reaction created within the plastic pouch reached her on some physical level.

As Paul worked to get Carolyn's attention, Kermit went about slipping heated socks onto her muddy feet, and then rubbed her legs vigorously. The combined effect of warmth worked to bring her around again and Paul took immediate advantage of it.

"Carolyn, what happened? Where's Peter?"

Peter's name was the only thing that elicited a reaction. She raised her head and pointed to the path she'd just come from. "Peter...he's up there. He's hurt. Hurt bad. Please, help him."

That exhausted her strength and she dropped back to the ground. Paul glanced again to Kermit again. The ex-merc dragged a hand across his mouth as he stared at the trail ahead and then shook his head sadly. Paul knew what he meant. They needed more information before he took off blindly. If Peter was badly injured, every moment wasted might make the difference between life and death.

Paul pulled off his gloves and rubbed Carolyn's hands with his warm fingers before placing the gloves on her hands and the heat pack back into her hands. "Honey, you have to talk to me. You have to tell me where Peter is before I can go help him."

Carolyn opened her eyes and really saw him for the first time. Her relieved expression transformed into one of despair as she reached up for him. Paul hugged her tightly, and she wept against his chest with great breath-stealing sobs. As much as he hated to do it, he had to stop her. There would be time for comfort later, but if Peter was hurt, they had to find him fast.

He kissed her matted hair and then pulled back to stare into her tear-filled eyes. "Carolyn, honey, what happened? Where's Peter, and how did he get hurt?"

Carolyn choked back another sob. She nodded, understanding the urgent need to find Peter. "He's up ahead. Just follow the path. I – I left him in a little cave on the right, just past the trees."

Her voice broke as her eyes glazed over. Paul could only guess at the recent horrors replaying in her mind. He touched her icy cheek, pulling her attention back to him. "How badly is he hurt?"

"I – I don't know. It was dark and – and.." she stuttered, and then she glanced up at him, pinning him in place with her intensity. "Daddy, it's bad. There was a bear, and it attacked Scooby."

Her voice broke again, and she pressed her face into his chest. This time, he didn't stop her or pull her away. He was almost afraid to hear what she had to tell him. He held onto her, comforting her as she struggled to find words of explanation.

She started again, finally able to speak, but her face was still pressed against his chest. "Scooby's dead."

He swallowed, tightening his hold on her. Kermit started searching in his backpack and pulled out his walkie-talkie. "Command Base? This is Griffin. Come in."

Carolyn's sobs began anew and Paul rocked with her in his arms, a motion that comforted both of them. "Shush, honey, it's okay. You're safe now. Peter will be, too, but you have to be strong for a little longer."

He kissed the top of her head again, watching in disappointment as Kermit shouted in his walkie-talkie, "Dammit! Command base, are you receiving me?"

Kermit tossed the walkie-talkie into the backpack and took a deep breath. Paul didn't say anything. Instead, he rubbed Carolyn's back for a moment before he spoke, "Honey, I'm going to go find Peter. You'll be okay here. Kermit will stay with you."

Carolyn nodded, her attention solely on her new brother. "Find him, Daddy. Make sure he's okay." Her words brought another sob, but she held it in as she pushed him away. "Please find him."

Paul smiled at her bravery, brushing back the hair in her eyes. "I'll be right back."

He met Kermit several steps down the path. Both of them spoke at the same time, saying the exact same words, "I'm going after Peter."

Paul shook his head. "No, Kermit, you have to stay with Carolyn. Keep her warm until I get back with Peter."

Kermit bristled at his suggestion. "I'm not very good with crying teenage girls. Besides, you're hurt. I'm better suited to go after Peter."

Paul looked ahead, feeling his expression tighten. "Yes, you are, but he's my responsibility."

Kermit frowned, but didn't argue. His opposition dissolved with Paul's simple statement. Paul started to walk away, but Kermit had one last comment. "If you aren't back here in twenty minutes, I'm coming after you."

Paul waved him away without looking back. "Just keep Carolyn warm...and safe. Don't leave her alone for any reason. Not even for me. I'll find Peter and come back, and then we can head down the ridge together."

Then he trudged on, not knowing what he'd find, praying he would find Peter alive. They had to save him. Fate's cruelest blow that night would come from being allowed to find the kids without being able to bring them both back safe and sound.

He'd started up the trail, just rounding a curve when he heard the sound of a flare gun going off. The sound brought a quick smile to his lips. Good, he thought, Kermit's bringing in the troops.

Without the walkie-talkies, it was the only way to let the others know they had found the kids. Now, if only he could find Peter alive, this dreadful night would finally be over.

oOoOoOoOo