Greg's brain said to stand up, to keep going, to get out that door and search. His body, however, was still shaking and weak, and all too ready to give in to Wash's hold. He fell back onto the couch with a grunt.

"I have to find her," he insisted. He meant to sound stern, frustrated, determined, but he mostly just sounded desperate. He was trying his hardest to get that firm, armored grip off of him.

"She's spent long enough thinking I'm--I have to let her know." Did he actually remember her screaming as he fell, or was he just imagining how it must have sounded? Real or not, the sound rattled through him.