Darcy didn't want to let his aversion to her touch hurt, she knew he wasn't okay, but part of her chest still ached, just a little. She gave him his space though, allowing him to get up on his own, watching carefully as she followed behind.
She saw the way he staggered in the new rush of the fog, "It's not real. She whispered. It's not real, it'll be okay soon. I borrowed Maryanne's truck, we just have to get there and to the door." She wished she could say the ride would be easier than walking but the truck had been just as flooded with the mist as the air around it when she got there. But at the very least, it would be faster. And easier on Bruce's body, she had no idea what kind of strength he had left but it didn't look like much.