A/N: It's been a while. I know. I'm starting to feel kind of alive again. Much more to come. Thank you, so so much for your reviews - yeah, you - and I will respond to them when I get more into the swing of things.

GWS Chapter Eleven: And It Keeps Getting Stronger

"So, how are we going to do this?"

What the human body and mind can endure when circumstances require focus is truly remarkable. Despite having barely slept the previous night and suffering from what felt like the hangover of the century, Greg quickly constructed an effective sling for Sara's leg. Fashioned from torn sheets, straps from a canvas bag, and strong branches, it braced and supported her ankle as well as hung the limb from her belt and shoulder so that she wouldn't need to actively hold it up. He also scoured the perimeter of the camp until he found two sturdy branches that she could use as crutches.

Sara was unsure she'd get far, but appreciated his effort. Besides, as much as she loved nature, bears were one woodland creature that she would rather enjoy on television. So, they finished packing and together set off in the direction of the vehicle. They left the tent and bedding behind to reduce their load, as well as the small cooler. Greg carried what things they did bring along in two backpacks; Sara would be preoccupied with the crutches and trying to stay upright.

Both had loaded up on pain medication, but its effects were minimal. Greg focused his mind anywhere but on the aches in his chest and head. It worked best when he focused on Sara, which was easy because he had to steady her almost constantly. The terrain of the forest, adventurous and beautiful on their way into the campsite, was now rocky and narrow and in no way conducive to crutches. Several times she stumbled and nearly fell, but Greg was right there to catch her.

Progress was made, however slow, and they soon began seeing promising landmarks—ones remembered from the hike in. They estimated they were around halfway to the car when the sky darkened rapidly and rain once again began to pour down between the branches. Both sighed as they retrieved the emergency blankets from one of the bags on Greg's shoulders.

Sara couldn't easily hold the blanket around herself while ambulating on one leg over rough terrain, so Greg tied it in front of her. He wrapped the second blanket around himself, but ended up shielding her with half of it, his arm around her shoulders.

The rain seeped around and inside of the thin blankets, and soon the weight of their wet clothing slowed them further. Sara struggled increasingly in navigating the uneven path, even with Greg guiding her, and it took him some time to notice because his own body was beginning to tire. When he did notice, he watched her carefully but said nothing.

Finally, Sara patted his arm and hobbled to the edge of the trail. "Let's sit here. I need to rest," she admitted breathlessly.

Greg glanced around uneasily but nodded. "Okay."

He removed the sling and leaned her 'crutches' against a nearby tree, then helped Sara sit down on the trunk of a large, fallen tree just off the path. Greg sat heavily beside her and they both worked on catching their breath. She shivered, wrapping the blanket tighter around herself, and he lifted his to hold above both of their heads; a meager canopy against the downpour.

"I don't think I—" she began finally, but Greg did not let her finish.

"You can."

Sara sighed and shook her head in exasperation. Was he going to make her confess that the pain was too much? If she told him the truth, that she could no longer stand to feel the ends of her broken bones grinding together with every step, he would only worry. He already felt responsible, so what would being so frank accomplish? The thought of purposefully guilting him into leaving without her and continuing on his own…she might regret it forever. Especially if something happened to him.

"We're over halfway there," he continued, voice calm but eyes betraying his obstinacy.

Greg will not leave me. It's that simple.

This thought brought a hair-raising sense of déjà vu. She dared not close her eyes lest she find herself back in that stagnant concrete room with its chains and ropes; in fear of welcoming in the image of Greg's beaten, crumpled form, tortured within inches of death but begging her to run. Pleading with her to escape without him because it would be her only chance.

She swallowed, searching his set expression and wondering if he was having the same flashback.

"I-I'm exhausted. The pain is…I just can't go on. I'm so sorry." Sara didn't want to force him into making that decision, but the mere thought of walking sent pain radiating up and down her leg so forcefully that she nearly blacked out.

He lowered one arm from the blanket and reached over, pulling her against him. He turned and pressed his lips to her forehead, and Sara felt him smile.

"Don't be sorry," he murmured.

"Why not?"

"Because, I've always wanted an excuse to carry you."

She was still processing his words when he stood and draped his blanket over her shoulders. Greg slung the packs around his front then knelt in front of Sara, facing away.

Her eyes widened. "Uh, no," she stuttered.

"Uh, yeah," Greg mocked lightly, patting his shoulder. "Come, while the day is young."

"You're not carrying me!" Sara squeaked out. "I'm too heavy and you're hurt."

He rolled his eyes. "Try me. I feel stronger than I look, and you're not heavy."

She did not budge.

"I'll be both your knight in shining armor and your steed. But none of that centaur stuff. That's too weird even for me."

"You're hurt," she persisted, ignoring his rambling.

"Maybe, but my arms and legs work great."

"So does my B.S. meter," observed Sara pointedly.

"Hey!" Greg looked over his shoulder and stuck out his lower lip. "Look, either I carry you—of which I am willing and capable, and makes the most sense—or, we sit on this tree together and wait for that bear to come for the main course."

"Greg!" She gasped. "That—That's not fair."

"We find the car together or we stay here. Together. That's about as fair as it gets, Sidle."

'It's not fair because carrying you wasn't an option,' Sara thought as she glared at him. He simply waited.

"Fine, but once you're no longer able to carry your crippled girlfriend you have to promise to go on without me."

Greg smirked. "I'll only agree to that because it won't happen."

Defeated, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clasping them at his collarbone. He stood steadily, hooking his arms under her thighs. She grimaced at the jostling but soon found herself more comfortable than expected. Sara adjusted the blankets to cover them both.

"Ready for the best ride of your life?" Greg asked haughtily.

She chuckled despite their circumstances. Were they becoming delirious? "Okay then Ron Jeremy, show me what you've got."

Almost an hour later, the two were soaked to the core, exhausted, and shivering despite the layers they wore. Sara rested against Greg's back and shoulders as he trudged on, and couldn't help but be lulled nearly to sleep. Her leg hurt a lot, but not as much as when she was walking. She felt awful for relying so heavily on him but simultaneously too worn out to object further.

If Greg was tiring, he wasn't letting it show. He traipsed onward, following the uneven path with eyes trained ahead. The rain slowed and then stopped entirely, save the drops plummeting from the leaves of the forest canopy above. Their clothes, unfortunately, would not dry anytime soon.

Sara had closed her eyes, face tucked against the nape of Greg's neck, when he jolted to a halt. She looked up, curious what would have caused him to stop so suddenly. His eyes were locked on the path ahead, and following his gaze she found her answer.

Around fifty yards in front of them, a large brown bear sniffed at the center of the path.

Her heart began to race. "Greg…"

"Shh," he breathed before side-stepping off the path and taking cover behind a large tree. After a moment they peered around the trunk, finding the bear still entranced with something in the dirt.

"What should we do?" Sara whispered.

"We wait. Maybe it'll wander off."

They observed the creature silently for another five minutes before two young cubs tumbled into the path near the adult. The large bear nuzzled her young, and gentle hums and grunts could be heard as the family communicated to one another.

Greg and Sara breathed tensely through their noses, terrified of making a sound. What if the animal heard or smelled them? What if it saw them as a threat to its cubs?

After what seemed like a lifetime, the trio wandered away from the path, eventually disappearing into the cover of the forest. They waited another five minutes before continuing on their course.

"Why are they out during the day like this?" Sara asked quietly once they had walked in silence for a while.

"Bears aren't naturally nocturnal. They become that way to avoid humans," he responded between heavy breaths. "Not that I can blame them."

Sara couldn't help but agree. "But last night…"

Greg shrugged. All he knew was that he wanted to be somewhere safe and dry. His muscles were really beginning to fight him, and he knew that if Sara didn't already pick up on his weariness, she would soon.

The sounds of the forest and Greg's soggy footsteps were the only sounds until he spoke again. "It won't be much longer now."

Sara nodded, but wondered who he was trying to reassure.

It was a flat, rain-slicked rock that was their down-falling. With the bags limiting Greg's sight and his shoes dragging more and more, it probably should have happened sooner. After slipping, Greg compensated with his opposite foot and thought he had saved himself and Sara a fall, but a moment later that shoe found a patch of mud and they tipped forward.

She felt what was happening and would have let herself drop from his back, but he still had ahold of her thighs. He managed to turn a bit as he toppled so that Sara would not land on her bad leg, but when they hit the ground a jolt of pain still radiated throughout the limb.

Trying not to pass out, she rolled off of Greg when he released her. She sat up slowly and he turned to his back, coughing and gasping. His shirt had pulled up a few inches and the dark mottling caught her attention. His eyes were closed and he twitched in surprise when she grasped the bottom of his shirt and lifted it further.

She gasped at the dark bruising over his ribs standing out starkly against his skin. It had worsened substantially. His breaths were labored but his lungs seemed to be functioning correctly. She was confident that pain and exhaustion was what limited his oxygen; not that this fact made it any easier to watch him suffer.

Noting that his jaw was clenched in concentration, Sara lowered his shirt. She pulled herself close and placed a gentle hand on the side of his face. It was meant to comfort but had a different result. He jerked away from her touch as if he had been slapped. Since she had reached across him, his movement only brought him closer. He bumped into her and she withdrew in surprise.

Trapped in his mind, he looks up at Whitney Adams. She towers above, grinning wickedly.

The warehouse in the desert. This vile place feels as real as the forest had only moments ago.

"Ah, the plans I have for you both."

Her words chill him to his core, but his response is immediate. "Do what you want to me, but I can't let you hurt her."

Sara spoke his name cautiously. Although his eyes met hers, something dark and distant lurked in his gaze.

"What are you seeing right now?" she contemplated more than asked.

He only stared. Once again she was compelled to turn and check behind her, in case something stood there that caused his panic. Disappointment was not something she expected to feel when there was nothing, but at least his actions would have made some sense. He was having another hallucination. His timing could have been better, but at least she was here to make sure he didn't wander off.

She tried again to touch him, to make some sort of contact, but he quickly batted her hand away.

Whitney laughs, crouching at Greg's side. "What are you going to do?"

The knife is lowered to his face. The cold steel traces a line from his temple over his cheek to his chin, then down to his throat. The scars there throb and Greg shies away, squeezing his eyes shut.

"I just think it's so. much. fun. when she watches. And the way you try to protect her? Adorable. Pathetic, also…I'm dying to see what you'll do when I really hurt her."

"No! Leave her alone!"

The blade presses against his neck and he knows it is about to break the skin. This knowledge awakens a bit of fight in him, and he tries to push her away.

"Don't! Please," Greg whimpered hoarsely.

"Okay, I won't," Sara promised, unsure what she was agreeing not to do.

There was a rustling in the brush beyond sight of the path; something large enough to be heard over the cacophony of water droplets falling from the branches. Sara glanced around nervously before returning her attention to Greg.

"I'm right here with you."

He feels Whitney backing away, but she is still laughing.

"Can you hear me? We have to go."

That's a strange thing for her to say. In fact, that doesn't sound like Whitney. Curious, Greg pries his eyes open and

…the soggy forest was back. Sara was back. The ache when he breathed had never left; it was even sharper now. Somehow, the illusion cleared quickly, leaving only stark reality laid in front of him.

Sara reached out, then froze. Letting out a shaky breath, Greg grasped her forearms and leveraged himself to a seated position. He may be out of that warehouse for now, but laying on the ground anywhere was not ideal. The movement caused his vision to flicker again and he gripped her tighter, not wanting to return to Whitney.

"A-Are you alright?" he finally managed.

She nodded. The throbbing in her ankle started to dull, and she believed herself no longer in danger of fainting.

Greg was clearly a different story. His face kept scrunching in pain and every small movement he made turned his skin paler. Sara placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it gently.

His hand found hers and squeezed it. "I-I'm sorry. Give me a minute, I'll be able to make it."

"It's fine," Sara reassured gently. There was no way she would climb back onto his shoulders; he had sacrificed enough, and was paying for it. "Now that my knight has carried me most of the way, I bet I can make it, too."

He squinted at her and she only smiled. Among other things, the bears had incentivized her. She no longer wanted to be left on her own. Right on cue, something moved in the forest. This time the sound was nearer.

"Something's out there," she whispered urgently.

Greg's eyes widened, darting toward the sound then back to her.

"I'll make it to the car. You?"

His only response was a brief nod. Greg rose to his feet, wobbling at first but eventually gaining his bearings. He retrieved the dropped bags from the ground and swung them over his shoulders, wincing at the weight. He then leaned over and offered his hands, pulling her to her feet…or foot. Crutches discarded long ago, she leaned against him heavily and limped along.

With the arm not wrapped around Sara, Greg rested his hand on something at his waistband, and she finally noticed that he was wearing a holster. She supposed it was the smart thing to do. Why else had Jerker lent them the gun if not for protection? But it was strange to see Greg wearing it in a forest since he rarely even carried his service pistol on the job.

Thirty long minutes passed. Sara was concentrating on the ground ahead when Greg swore under his breath and froze again. She dreaded looking up but dutifully did so. A bear cub had tumbled into the path only a few yards in front of them. The most attention it gave them was a shy glance before it pawed and sniffed at some pebbles.

"Turn back," Greg said quietly. "Go, now."

Ungracefully, they whirled around and were stunned by the sight of a second small cub.

"Is it the same family we saw before?" Sara whispered.

"I don't know. I-I think so."

"Why would they follow us? What do we do?" she wondered aloud.

His head swiveled as he searched for the best way to distance themselves from the cubs. He finally guided Sara off the trail. If needed, they could move parallel to it and return once they were clear of the bears. He had no desire to meet the mother again; especially if she saw them so close to her young.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, there was a low grunt to their right. The adult bear was there, just beyond some tall brush. Her hackles were raised and she stared down the two-legged intruders.

"Back away slowly," Greg said. He helped her step back, but a root caught Sara's boot and she fell backwards. The landing jarred her ankle and she was unable to keep from crying out. Greg nearly fell with her but managed to catch himself on a nearby tree.

The bear startled at the commotion and backed up a few steps.

'Please, just leave,' Greg thought desperately, hand moving to the holster. The bear backed away more, and he started to get hopeful.

Just then, a shrill beep and two seconds of loud static erupted from the backpack. Greg and Sara jumped before glancing to each other. Any elation related to the hope of contact through the walkie talkies was forgotten immediately when the bear began to quickly advance through the brush toward them.