Chapter Twelve: A Coming Day

With a frown Sara prodded the dark bruise as gently as she could, running her fingers over the swollen flesh. "Does it hurt?"

Greg was already wincing, pulling back from her with a short grumble. "When you do that, yes." He flexed his own hand, regretting it as he did so. With a final sigh of resentment he cradled the injured limb in his lap, weakly curling his fingers into a fist. It hurt…but at least he could move them.

"You think it's broken," Sara asked, nodding to his swollen wrist as she sat back on her haunches. She was still nervous, jumpy from the incident before. Greg had lost his footing, sending him head first down the steep incline.

Lucky for him he had caught a tree only five feet into the fall. Or rather put, the tree had caught him. It had looked painful, and the small cry that had escaped his lips suggested just as much. But compared to what the final result could be, no one could complain.

It had taken Greg nearly ten minutes to climb back up the few short feet, even with Sara's help. It was clear that he was sore, but her main concern was focused on his wrist now, one that was quickly bruising.

At her words he took another look, flexing it once more. "No…" he whispered with a sharp gulp of air, before looking back up at her. "Sprained more in likely. Sort of hoping that I just jammed it real bad…but I probably sprained it. Definitely not broken though."

"You a doctor now?" Sara asked, slightly amused as she watched, half afraid to reach out and touch him again.

"Just experienced," he replied, running his own fingers over the swollen flesh carefully.

"Let me guess," Sara wondered casually, "Surfing, hang-gliding, sky-diving…"

"Falling down the stairs," Greg cut in quickly, smiling when she started to laugh.

"Figures…" she laughed, a grin covering her face. "All these death-defying stunts and you nearly take yourself out on something simple."

Greg laughed, not about to miss the opportunity. "I swear, those stairs came out of nowhere…they were even harder to see blindfolded."

"Why exactly were you blindfolded?" Sara asked quizzically, slight mirth playing to her voice.

Greg let out a nervous chuckle, running his opposite hand over his face as he gave his muffled reply. "College…"

It was all she needed, and Sara nodded in understanding. There was nothing possible that could explain what happened during those years. She brushed back her hair, eyeing him carefully. She had been scared…beyond scared…and she felt responsible.

"Greg…I'm sorry," she was going to apologize, going to take all the blame. Greg had done nothing but try and to help, always trying to look on the bright side, always putting himself at risk for their own survival. She was no longer the leader, but the follower…

"It's no one's fault Sara," he cut her off. It wasn't surprising; Greg was too kind-hearted to let anyone take the blame for anything. He had been the same way after the lab explosion, when she tried to apologize for not visiting him. It was the same response after he had failed his first proficiency, the same after she had turned him down on their dinner plans. To him, no one could do any wrong.

Either he was the one to blame, or no one was. Greg wouldn't have it any other way. At the same time Sara wasn't going to back down that willingly. She knew she had crossed the line; she had crossed it days ago. Greg had been patient with her, but finally it had been enough.

Sara had only seen Greg irate a handful of times in all the years she knew him. It was one of the reasons why she enjoyed his company so much. She could drive the most painful dagger into his side, snap at him with cruel, unfeeling words, and the man would forget it almost as soon as it happened.

But this time…this time the dagger was too deep, to tightly imbedded into his skin. She had been unnecessarily cruel, spouting off words without thought. And she needed to fix it, needed to set things straight.

"Greg…I didn't mean any of what I said…"

"I know that Sara," he cut her off again, ignoring the impatient sigh from her lips. How was she ever going to set things straight if he wouldn't even let her talk?

He continued with a breath. "We all say things…they're just words. They don't have any meaning behind them. Actions however…" he winced as he stretched his arm, rubbing his shoulder that was sure to bruise.

"I'm sorry for that too," Sara told him quietly. She knew better than to try and intervene when Greg was mad. Knew that it only pushed him further away. Apparently she hadn't learned well enough.

Greg was shaking his head however, "If I hadn't been so hot-headed it wouldn't have happened. He timidly massaged his swollen wrist, flinching at the slight pain. "I'm just lucky it wasn't any worse."

His voice had trailed off, but Sara followed his gaze down the hillside, grimacing at the note-worthy drop. Greg had been lucky…very lucky indeed. "Do you want to stay here for a bit?"

Greg shook his head, and she was going to protest, but stopped herself. It was, after all, Greg's decision. Sara held out her hand as she stood, motioning for the backpack. At first Greg hesitated, then handed it over without complaint, shortly before pulling out the water bottle, and taking several sips before passing it on to Sara, who followed his lead.

The sun was starting to rise over the hills, marking the start of their third day. It made Sara wonder exactly how much more they could handle before…she shook her head quickly. She would not think that way, she just wouldn't allow it.

Catherine had wandered the halls for nearly fifteen minutes before getting an opportunity to duck into the smaller room. The Oregon DNA tech had been busy for quite some time, filling out forms, printing reports, running samples. People were constantly in and out, dropping off new stuff, collecting old stuff.

Catherine could have easily wandered in at any time. But with Scott hot on her trail it made it hard, anyone was sure to report her if the blonde was poking around in business that was not her own.

Mikayla looked up as she closed the door behind her, frowning as the other woman drew the shades. Catherine needed only a few minutes, if the lab tech was going to cooperate, that was. If anyone saw her in here they would report her, for certain. Hell, the girl herself would most likely, it could get both Catherine and Nick kicked off the case. It was, however, a necessary risk. The last thing Catherine was going to do was sit around and watch her friends die somewhere out in the wilderness.

"You have the DNA results from the Nicklios case?"

She nodded, her gaze still focused on her. "Yes…but I'm not allowed to release them to you."

"You had three samples of blood," Catherine continued, vaguely ignoring her protests. "Blood pool, blood spatter, blood droplets. Three different sources. Blood consistency told us that. Now give."

Mikayla let out a nervous sigh, risking a quick glance at the door before lowering her voice. "Three different blood sources, yes. Officer Mckinely was the spatter, Sara Sidle was the droplets, and the blood pool came back unknown, but it's not human."

"Perfect blood pool, no body, animal's blood. Sounds staged to me. Was there any other responding officer?" Catherine demanded quietly.

"As far as I know Mckinely was the only one, both days. It's in his area, so that's not suspicious."

Catherine shook her head slightly, hanging onto the table. "We pulled bullets from all over that scene. The way Mckinely described it, made it sound as though it was a war zone. But we collected them all from one main direction. Away from the officer's stated position. That doesn't make any sense if it was a hostage situation."

"Look," Mikayla said fiercely, keeping her voice low. "I can't help you; I have orders from my supervisor. I don't want to seem crude, but I can't lose my job over this. I can tell you one thing though."

She paused for a breath here, but continued soon enough. "I don't think Greg did this. I barely know the man, but he was…easy going. I don't know how else to describe it. Sara seemed like she was the one running the show, I hardly doubt things would change."

"I know them a lot better than you do," Catherine agreed, "And I know Greg couldn't. I just need a way to prove it now."

"Darrin Jones, he's our video analysis specialist, he's known Robin for years, since high school almost. If something's going on, he might know…"

"Thank you," Catherine told her earnestly, already backing up to leave. It was Mikayla that stopped her, voicing her own concern.

"Find them…both of them."

TBC