Crash

By Nicole

I'm gonna die, thought Brad Sherwood. Oh, God, I'm gonna die. The rebellious thoughts continued to race through his mind against his will. He stared out the window at the rapidly rising ground-or was he falling? He heard a scream from Greg Proops. Numbly, he wondered whether Greg was shouting from terror or outraged rejection of an untimely death. Brad was too captivated by the sight out the window to feel any emotion. Then it all went black--

***

The first thing Brad noticed was the rock digging into his thigh. Not even conscious, he rolled over to dislodge it. Then the pain shot up his arm.

"Jesus Christ!" he swore, sitting bolt upright. He clutched his wrist in agony, staring at it. He wondered how it could possibly be so puffy.

"Brad?" came a faint voice. "That you?" Brad glanced around, realizing he was in a small clearing in a forest. He automatically ran a hand through his thick chestnut hair, and then winced, grabbing his wrist. He stood hesitantly, testing his joints, and then searched for the owner of the voice.

"Who was that?" he called, shaking leaves from his tattered clothes.

"Right here..." There was a feeble movement. Brad walked over, ignoring the various aches of his body. He looked down at a tall, lanky man whose eyes were wide and alert.

"Ryan, man, are you all right? What happened?"

"The plane crashed, I think." Ryan Stiles said slowly. "I'm okay; I think...just a lot of bumps and bruises...my head hurts. How 'bout you?" Brad groaned.

"I think I sprained my wrist." he said ruefully.

"We need to find Colin and Greg, and the pilot." Ryan sat up carefully. He paused a beat, and then stood up the rest of the way.

"Most of the wreckage is over here." Brad made his way over to the mangled fuselage. "Shit, there is someone in here!" Ignoring his pain, Ryan raced over.

"Who is it?" he asked breathlessly. Brad attempted to disentangle the battered body.

"I can't tell...but he sure ain't breathing..." Ryan's breathing also ceased. "It's the pilot." They both heaved an ivoluntary sigh of relief, then exchanged an ashamed look. "What was his name again?"

"David..." Ryan told him. "Look, we need to find Colin and Greg before we do anything. Where are they?" The two men began searching grimly. Brad wandered around the entire wreckage, and Ryan searched the surrounding area.

"If they were flung too far..." Brad didn't finish his thought, but allowed an ominous silence to settle in. The quiet was broken only by the disconcerting sound of singing birds. Ryan stopped under a tree to collect himself.

"Colin...if I don't find you, I ..." he whispered. "Come on, buddy, where are you?" Something hit Ryan's aching pate. He glanced down at the shiny black shoe, and saw a leg dangling. "Brad!" He shouted. "They're up here!"

Brad rushed over, and both men were attempting to scale the tree in an instant. Ryan reached the two bodies first, Brad sliding back down, nursing his wrist. Ryan pulled the tall, light haired man off of the person underneath him.

"He's breathing!" Ryan shouted down to Brad, and awkwardly pushed Colin Mochrie down to Brad. He focused on the other man, still belted into his seat. "Greg, come on..." he whispered, relieved at the steady pulse. He unbuckled the seatbelt, throwing the shorter man over his shoulder in a clumsy fireman's carry. He climbed back down, lying him on the ground.

"Whoa..." Greg Proops opened his eyes, dazed. "Brad, Ryan...what the hell?"

"Are you in working order?" Brad asked. Greg gingerly tested his parts.

"Nothing I can't handle." he said smoothly.

"So, the plane crashed..." Brad said slowly.

"Yeah, thanks man." Greg said dryly. "Hey, Colin..." Colin was still as death, his face pale and bruised. Ryan traced the dried blood on his cheek softly.

"He must have been fallen from his seat, on top of you." Brad looked up. Colin's seat was at least 15 feet higher in the tree than Greg's was.

"Ryan, how is he?" Greg asked gently.

"His pulse is steady..." Ryan shook Colin fiercely. "Come on! Wake up!"

"Hey, hey, that won't help..." But it did. Colin's eyelids fluttered once, and he moaned pitifully.

"Colin!" Ryan gasped, shaking him again.

"Stop it..." he mumbled. "Ryan, is that you?"

"Yeah, it is." Ryan couldn't keep the relief out of his voice. "Can you open your eyes?"

"I'd rather not," he stated quietly. "I guess we crashed?"

"Yes, we did." Brad said, wondering why they all had to ask. Colin opened his warm brown eyes,

then grimaced.

" I knew I didn't want to do that." he grumbled.

"Can you sit up?" Ryan asked.

"Can you move?" Brad asked.

"Are you in pain?" Greg asked.

"I'm not in the mood for Questions Only, guys." Colin told them wryly. He moved his legs and arms, and attempted to sit. "Shit!" he gasped, pressing his hands to his abdomen.

"What is it?" Greg asked quickly.

"Broken rib." Colin moaned. "That is a feeling you never forget..." Greg did a quick assessment.

"Brad has a sprained wrist, Colin's rib, and Ryan and I are okay, except for some bruises. The pilot-"

"Didn't make it." Brad told him softly. Greg nodded once, matter-of-factly. The composure in his eyes was chilling.

"We got off fairly lucky, though." he said calmly.

"Did we really?" Colin snapped. "Where the hell are we?" That stopped Greg, but only briefly.

"Well...we were flying over Saskatchewan. So we are...well, God, I don't know, Colin. Doesn't it say Canada on your passport?" he asked crossly.

"Calm down, you two." Brad said smoothly. Colin sighed, and leaned against a tree. His head was killing him, and he was having trouble focusing his eyes. Why did they have to go film that promo up in the mountains, anyway? What was the point of having all those damn soundstages if they didn't do anything? Ryan interrupted his inner diatribe.

"So...what do we do?" he wondered aloud. The four men exchanged blank glances.

***

"You were a Boy Scout, weren't you?" Brad asked, as he watched Colin quickly built up a fire pit.

"The Canadian equivalent, at least," Colin said, wiping his hands on his pants. "Ryan! Let me use your lighter!"

"I don't have it!" Ryan called back. "I left it in my other jacket!" Colin sighed.

Greg was leaning against a tree, digging through his pockets. He grinned triumphantly after pulling out a tattered book of matches. Only one left, he mused. Better make this count. Greg withdrew a much needed cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket, and put his lips around it. He was about to strike the match, when--

"Greg, we need a match to start the fire!" Brad said, walking up. "Oh, here's one." he remarked, plucking it from his hand.

"Wha...wait!" Greg exclaimed, staring at his unlit cigarette. "I...why do we need a fire?"

"Why, so we don't freeze and die!" Brad told him in his "announcer" voice.

"But..." Brad walked back to Colin, who struck the match. A healthy fire was going in seconds.

Greg hurried over to light his cigarette. While he was leaning over the fire, Brad accidentally bumped him from behind. "Shit!" he yelled as the white cylinder fell to be consumed by flame. "My last one..."

***

"I never wanted to be on Survivor," Brad grumbled as they sat around the fire. "I have enough money."

"And if need be, you could sell yourself to wealthy older women for sexual favors." Greg pointed out.

"Why are you so perky?" Ryan demanded of Greg.

"Actually, I'm not perky. I would kill any of you for a cigarette right now." Greg informed him, twiddling a leaf in his hand. "But I can deal." Ryan, however, was not dealing well with his nicotine withdrawal. His head was throbbing, he was cranky as hell.

"Colin, are you okay?" Brad asked with genuine concern. The Canadian was usually reserved, but he hadn't spoken for an hour.

"Yeah, I'm fine...my head just kind of hurts." Greg peered into Colin's eyes.

"Hey, buddy, I think you might have a concussion," he said quietly.

"Nah, I'm all right." Colin crossed his legs, and pulled away from Greg.

"Want half of my candy bar?" Brad offered. Ryan's and Greg's jaws dropped.

"You didn't tell me you had a Snickers!" Ryan exclaimed.

"I'm so hungry!" Greg whined.

" Nah, Brad..." Colin trailed off. "Thanks, anyway." Brad nodded, and took a bite of his candy. As he chewed, he became aware of eyes on him. He looked up slowly, to Greg's and Ryan's ravenous eyes fixed on him.

"Don't even think it. It's not my fault you two fill up your pockets with cigarettes instead of food-"

"And then we don't fill out our clothes quite as well as you do, Brad." Greg shot back.

"Can we not mention cigarettes, please!" Ryan said, rubbing his head.

"Come on, Greg, you're a smart guy. Is making fun of my fat ass the best way to get some candy?" Brad taunted softly.

"Brad, you son of a bitch..." Ryan mumbled. Colin returned to awareness at that moment, recognizing his friend's boiling point.

"Hey, I changed my mind. Can I have some?" he asked, intervening smoothly.

"Yeah, sure, Colin." Brad broke it in half, and handed it to Colin. The latter silenced Ryan's protest with a quick glare, and then apportioned both Greg and Ryan half of his part.

"Now can we all be sensible?" he requested calmly. "I don't want to be stuck in a Lord of the Flies situation."

"Well, if Greg would shut his smart mouth--" Brad began to complain. Colin, with the odd power of a shy, quiet person, shushed him with his hand.

"We are all friends...or at least mature adults." Colin began. Then he paused. "Or at least adults." He massaged his temples, and regrouped. "We need to treat each other with respect, and work together. This is important...this is real. Please, guys." The others looked around, as always conceding to Colin.

Though they ridiculed him without mercy during the show, the others bore Colin a begrudging respect. He was unfailingly nice, always level-headed, and refreshingly self-deprecating. Since he generally had common sense on his side, he was a good leader who was just too shy to take control. Ryan's intense personality often outshone his quieter partner. But Ryan was an artist, and was as temperamental as the term suggested. Brad was a colorful guy, clever and, in the end, sensible. He was a comedian, and had the aura of one, but would eventually calm down in a crisis. Greg...Incurably sardonic, his cynicism was not encouraging, and his acerbic wit was infuriating. Greg could take care of himself, though, unless he was killed by someone sick of his attitude.

***

The next morning Brad awoke from an awkward night against a tree with the same thought he'd had the last time he regained consciousness. Pain. The sight of his wrist, now a bizarre shade of plum and as swollen as a freshly inflated balloon, almost made him lose the last night's half Snickers.

"Is this good?" he called out to Greg, who had been awake for hours, pacing. His bespectacled colleague walked over, and drew in sharp gasp.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed. "You should have that in a sling."

"Um...how would I do that?" Brad asked. Greg considered the question briefly.

"Take off your t-shirt," he suggested. Brad gave him a look of mock horror.

"Greg, I'm not that kind of girl!" he cracked. Greg rolled his eyes, and Brad clumsily unbuttoned his shirt. He moved to pull off his t-shirt, and moaned suddenly. "I can't. Not with-" Greg nodded, and pulled it off for him.

"Brad!" Ryan called from his tree. "Not on the first date!" Greg gave him the finger calmly, and went about fashioning a sling. Ryan wandered over to where the still sleeping Colin sat. "Colin, you okay?' he asked, nudging him. Colin just moaned pitifully. "Hey, wake up!" His eyes opened a hundredth of a centimeter. Ryan was worried by the lack of focus, and his pale skin.

"Ugh," was all he could say, in a tortured voice.

"What's wrong?" Ryan demanded, staring at the bags under Colin's eyes.

"Every...breath-" Colin broke off. "Like a knife stabbing my side," he paused. "And my head..."

"All right, don't strain yourself." Ryan warned him. Brad, shirtless, with his arm in a makeshift sling, walked over with Greg, who managed to still look incredibly stylish.

"And where have you two been?" Ryan teased. Greg's smirk was a retort in itself, but he was distracted by Colin's haggard appearance.

"Are you living, Colin? I mean, proper supply of oxygen to the brain, breathing, the works?" he asked.

"As far as I can tell." Colin mumbled, attempting to stand. Greg helped him to his feet.

"Why hasn't anyone found us yet?" Brad wondered, staring at the sky.

"It could take a long time." Ryan said miserably. "Did you see how thick this forest was when we flew over it?"

"Flew over it--that's the thing we didn't do." Greg said wryly. Colin woozily walked around the area that they had pretty much made "camp." Even in his less than alert state, his ear picked up a familiar sound.

"Guys!" he called. "I hear water!" The others walked over to where Colin was standing, and were quiet as they listened. Ryan, hearing nothing, looked at his friend with concern. His words were cut off by Brad.

"Oh! I hear it." he exclaimed. "It sounds pretty far away."

"Great. Water." Greg muttered. "So what?"

"Well, we could follow the river to...a lake." Brad said weakly.

"This is no time for bass fishing!" Greg snapped. "We need to stay with the plane so we'll be easier to spot."

"That would usually make sense, but it's been almost 24 hours." Colin argued calmly. "We'd be better off following the river. We might come across some hunters, or campers."

"Or Death, in all his evil glory." Greg retorted, the strain finally showing on his face.

"Greg..." Colin trailed off, looking at him quietly. Their eyes met, and Greg sighed, looking away.

"Yeah, you're right, Colin," he said softly. "Let's go."

***

The sound of rushing water grew gradually stronger as the intrepid quartet made their way east. Brad, who had taken over from Greg as the high spirited one, led the way. Greg followed pensively, lost in his own thoughts. Ryan sullenly helped the bedraggled Colin along.

"That water seems too loud." Colin said suddenly. The others ignored him, until Brad came across the bank of the river.

"Holy-" he whispered."This is something out of an Outdoor Life special." It was a wide river, with white water rushing past dangerously sharp rocks, foam whipping into the air.

"Um..." Colin looked taken aback. Greg turned on him bitterly.

"This is the friendly little stream we were supposed to cross? This is where the cute family and their Suburban are? Great job, man!" he ranted. Hurt, Colin remained silent.

"This doesn't change anything." Brad defended. "We can still walk along the edge."

"Whatever." Greg mumbled.

***

"It's slippery, careful!" Brad called back. Ryan tightened his grip on Colin's elbow. He was realizing that there was more than a broken rib going on.

"All right!" Ryan yelled. Greg marched ahead of them, the picture of suffering dignity. He still looked remarkably well, and more alert than any of them. But nicotine withdrawal and extreme pressure were slowly chipping away at him. He cursed to himself, and one of his shiny black shoes twisted in the mud. Greg let out a yelp as he fell, and Ryan lunged forward to support him. Colin was clipped by Ryan's elbow, and was thrown off balance. He staggered to regain his bearings, and stepped on some loose earth which quickly gave way. Colin plunged into the rapidly moving water.

"Colin!" Brad was the first to notice, as Ryan and Greg were still tangled up in one another. He skidded down the bank, and tried to grab Colin with his useless arm. Swearing aloud, he watched Colin, despite head injuries, broken bones and God knows what else, try to keep himself afloat. "Ryan!" Brad shouted. Ryan prepared to jump into the water, his face dead white. Greg, still on the ground, wrapped his arms around his leg.

"Don't jump in, you moron, how will you drowning help anything?" he demanded.

"But we've got to-" Greg cut Ryan off with an impatient wave of his hand, and pushed himself up.

"Brad, find a stick, or something!" he commanded, running along the bank. "Colin!" His voice was hoarse with anxiety.

Brad frantically looked around, but all he could find were twigs. He glanced up at a tree, and spotted a slender bough not out of his reach. Jumping up, he grasped it, and it cracked loudly as it broke. He rushed to the water, holding it out for Colin. For a second it looked like he had it, then the water slammed him against a rock. His eyes rolled back in his head--and he was swept out of sight.

***

Brad sighed, looking around. Ryan couldn't say a word. He just couldn't speak. Greg didn't seem to want to chat. Brad had cried a little, but knew it wasn't the time. So he sat still. The sight of his friend being swept away...every time he shut his eyes, he saw the fear in Colin's eyes. So instead of talking or sleeping, he watched the others. Greg's impregnable barrier around his feelings seemed to have withstood the event. There was a certain hardness in his eyes, a new clip to his voice. Though probably the smartest of all of them, he was being changed the most by their experiences. Brad remembered his witty retorts just the night before...he hadn't made one since morning. Ryan was devastated, and Brad understood his reaction more than Greg's. Colin and Ryan had been close for about twenty years.

"Why?" Brad mumbled to himself, settling himself against the tree. It was going to be a sleepless night.

***

"What do we do now?" Brad asked as he watched the sun rise. He stared up at the sky, an amazing panorama of golden clouds and pink sky. Greg glanced over.

"Prepare our graves, I suppose," he suggested flippantly. Ryan sucked in a deep breath.

"That's enough!" Brad yelled. "Greg, stop it! I don't know what your problem is, but can you get over it without being an ass?" Greg smirked at Brad. "You're so damn insensitive! Like you weren't horrible enough to Colin when he was here!" Stricken, Greg absorbed Brad's words.

"Colin...I..." He turned away suddenly, and walked quickly away. Brad watched him go, shaking his head in confusion.

"I honestly don't get that guy." he mused. Ryan gave him a bleak smile.

"I don't think he even gets himself," he observed enigmatically."Don't worry about him, he'll come around."

***

A pebble bounced off the boulder into the water. Any splash it might have made was imperceptible in the already violently swirling water. Greg sighed, and tossed another stone.

"Why was I such a bloody idiot?" he demanded of himself. "I was attacking Colin, he was obviously in no condition for such treatment." Greg removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. "Brad's right...what's wrong with me?" Greg stood up, and walked over to a tree. He leaned against it, his eyes moist. "Colin...I'm sorry."

"It's all right," a familiar voice said. Greg stiffened, and slowly turned around. He was face to face with a bandaged, battered, living Colin Mochrie.

"Am I to be plagued by your ghost my whole life?" Greg asked blankly.

"Not that you don't deserve it, but...no." Colin grinned. "Consider yourself rescued."

"But..." Greg trailed off.

"Follow me." Colin said, turning back towards where Greg had left Ryan and Brad. Colin moved himself clumsily and painfully on a pair of crutches. They walked over to where a team of medics were tending to the others.

"Greg! We're saved!" Brad exclaimed with a wicked grin. Greg smiled at him, and mouthed a thank you. Brad nodded, wincing as his wrist was wrapped in a bandage.

"I can't believe it, still..." Ryan muttered, staring at Colin. "I was sure you were dead."

"So was I." Colin said dryly. "Guess not, though."

"I still don't...what happened?" Greg asked.

"I was knocked out by what Ryan tells me was a rock, and when I woke up, some 'nice little family in a Suburban' was driving me to a hospital." Colin paused for effect, glancing at Greg."I told some doctor...or something...where you guys were."

"And then he forced us to take him along, even though he should be in a hospital." One of the paramedics said sternly, casting a disapproving eye at Colin. "Go lie down in the ambulance." Colin ignored this medical advice, and looked up at Ryan.

"I'm sorry I couldn't have told you I was all right,"he said softly.

"What makes you think I cared?" Ryan cracked. Colin laughed.

"What am I, stupid?" he demanded.

"Don't call me Stupid!" Ryan said with a grin. They began to climb into the ambulance. Greg stood stock still, unable to comprehend what was going on.

"Col-" he began. Colin stopped, and met his eyes. "Colin, I'm scared. I don't know what happened to me, I don't know why I was acting like-" he blurted out. Colin gave him a searching look.

"It's over, Greg. Don't worry about it." He put a friendly arm around Greg's shoulder, then drew him into an embrace. "It's over."

The End