Work Text:
Wirt is lost. There's no denying it, and the pressure is starting to make his mouth go dry. It would be bad enough if only he was lost, but no, he's gotten Greg lost right alongside him. Wirt's supposed to be the responsible one—he's older, after all—and yet he's just walking through this strange forest, wondering how they got here without the faintest clue of how to get them both home safe.
There's a lot of things that can go wrong when two kids are alone in a forest. There's a lot of things that can go wrong when anyone is alone in a forest—he's sure things go wrong sometimes even when people who are trained in surviving in the wilderness spend too long alone in the woods. At the very least, isolation can make anyone go insane after a long enough time. Wirt shouldn't have to worry about that with Greg here (neither of them are actually alone as long as they stick together), but spending too much time with Greg is a surefire way to make Wirt go insane in a whole different way.
Surely if they just keep walking, they'll reach the edge of the woods eventually. No forest can last forever, so they're bound to find civilization eventually as long as they don't get themselves too turned around and start going in circles. As long as they don't run out of food or get attacked by a bear or get thrown off course by Greg's antics or fall victim to any of the millions (maybe billions?) of bad things that happen to children in the woods... they should be fine.
They should be fine.
Wirt gathers his cloak tighter around himself, trying to shield himself from the way the trees seem to be looking at him with an accusatory glare (like they, too, know he should be doing a better job to get himself and Greg out of here alive). Greg doesn't seem too worried about their situation yet, but of course he's not worried. He's Greg.
His mom once joked that Wirt worried enough for both of her children. She doesn't joke about that anymore. She just looks at Wirt with concern of her own now, and he doesn't like that.
He shakes his head, trying to clear it so he can focus. If he could just remember how they got here, it wouldn't be too hard to get home, would it? Just a matter of retracing their steps. He can feel the memory right in the back of his mind, just barely out of his reach. It'll probably come to him in a few hours, when he's not trying to remember so hard, but they can't afford to wait that long. There's even more bad things that can happen to children alone in the woods at night than there are bad things that can happen to children alone in the woods in the daytime (and there's already plenty of those. Wirt somewhat regrets having read that book on wilderness survival in elementary school, but he supposes it's not like those things wouldn't be possibilities even if he hadn't known they could happen. He'd just be even less prepared).
Greg's telling him another Rock Fact. Wirt doesn't know how Greg comes up with those, not that he particularly cares. They're just another of Greg's quirks, and Wirt needs to focus on getting them home.
He can do this. Probably. Hopefully.
~~~
His head is all fuzzy when the ambulance comes. He's cold, tired, and disoriented, and he's holding Greg like both their lives depend on it (in a way, he's pretty sure that's true, but everything's still wrapped in an almost-drowned-in-cold-water haze, and he's having trouble parsing everything that happened). The flashlight and chatter around him are starting to give him a headache, but he'll take that over the chilled numbness of his hands and feet. The paramedics pull Greg out of his arms, and by the time Wirt thinks to call out, he's already too tired to form the words. He hopes Greg will be okay.
No. He needs Greg to be okay. Wirt was the reason they ended up in that forest—or, rather, water—as much as he said otherwise, and it was Wirt's responsibility to keep Greg safe, and Greg nearly became an edelwood tree because Wirt had let himself give up instead of keeping them moving—did that really happen?
Wirt's tired. So, so tired. And cold.
~~~
Wirt's not sure how much of those woods were real. Greg remembers them too, but—he just doesn't know. He supposes he'll never know. Maybe he'll write a poem about that once the doctors let them out of the hospital.
It's clear that they both nearly died. Be it by becoming an edelwood tree or drowning, it's indisputable that Wirt nearly watched Greg die. As much as his brother annoys him, Wirt truly loves Greg, and a world without Greg's cheery smile and almost-endless chatter isn't one Wirt even wants to consider. It's simply unacceptable.
He used to be desperate for Greg to give him just a moment of peace and quiet. Before long, maybe he'll feel like that again, but right now, he doesn't want Greg to stop talking for even a second. It's proof he's not a tree, or a body at the bottom of a lake, or anything but alive.
Wirt knows it's just in his head, but his fingertips still feel cold. The doctors had checked over him thoroughly, so he knows it's not frostbite, or any other complication from the time he spent in the lake. Still, he can't seem to get them to feel warm. Maybe he'll dig through his closet for some gloves when they get home.
The colorful leaves on the trees are visible through the window of their hospital room, and Wirt wonders if there are any bluebirds hidden in the branches there. He hopes Beatrice is okay, if the forest had any truth to it at all.
In the morning, he's going to give Greg the biggest hug he can. Maybe the forest (they'll need to come up with something better to call it at some point) wasn't real, but what they went through together felt real, at least. They're closer now than they were before, and Wirt's just realized he hasn't properly thanked Greg for all Greg did to get them home. He should do that. He should tell Greg none of it was his fault when Greg isn't actively turning into a tree.
He supposes Greg probably doesn't want to go on a frog hunt anymore, seeing as they have Jason Funderburker now. There's probably some other adventure he could offer Greg, though (preferably without the nearly-dying part). Wirt falls asleep picturing his brother's face beaming at the thought of adventure, his own lips curling upward as he drifts off.