The return home somehow managed to be agonizingly long, each step taking all his concentration, yet at the same time he'd be hard pressed to remember any of it later. All Greg could be sure of was that, without Casey or Leonard helping him out, he would never have gotten off the pavement.

Now, slumped on the couch, armored in ice packs, Greg finally felt like he could breathe again. He trusted Leonard to know what he was doing with the crazy future healy thing, and quietly thanked the powers that be he wouldn't have to explain all the scrapes and gashes to Rose. The last thing he needed was her fussing, after all that.

"I... I've got to be honest, you guys." He looked grimly between Casey, Leonard, and Wash's unconscious body. "I really... really don't think I can get up to run tomorrow."