Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wirt remembers a saying that his dad used on him when he was younger- ‘There’s something to be said about a person who’s brave when they don’t want to be.’

A saying that was only used when Wirt was being too cowardly for his liking and it was supposed to be a driving force. When he refused to take his training wheels off after scraping his knee the single time that he did. When he stayed in the shallow end of any pool out of fear of drowning. When he didn’t want to go to kindergarten because he didn’t want to leave his parent’s side. All of those moments would follow with those same sixteen words that always stuck with him.

Yet, the one time he remembers the most is when his dad had several bags packed, ready to be taken down to the cab waiting at the end of the driveway.

‘I have to go now,’ His dad whispered, bent down on one knee as he spoke to Wirt. Words he didn’t understand because his dad was always there and he couldn’t see why he and his mom couldn’t go with him, “Take care of your mom for me,’ He nods toward the kitchen where his mom sits at the table sobbing into her hands.

‘But where are you going? Why can’t we go with you?’ He’d question as he tried to push back his own tears brimming his eyes. His dad’s hand on the back of his neck loosened before falling to Wirt’s shoulder.  And those same words echo.

‘There’s something to be said about-’

It would be a few years later when his mom introduced her new boyfriend to him that he realized that his dad didn’t plan on coming back and maybe bravery was only used on him when his dad didn’t feel like parenting.

Now, it felt like a repeat of those same moments as he watches Beatrice peck at the branches entangled around his younger brother. Too scared to do anything other than watch. As he does, though, the sound of his dad’s voice is in his mind.

‘There’s something-’

“Wirt, do you think you could help me out?” Beatrice huffs between pecks at the branch across Greg’s neck.

‘To be said-’

“I need your help, Wirt. Wirt? Are you still with me?”

‘About-’

‘Brave-’

“Stay away from them!” Sudden words from behind them scream and every thought of bravery Wirt has disappeared and he finally sees the fear etched over Beatrice’s features. It forces him to twist his torso where he finds the Woodsman aiming one final swing of his ax at the Beast before a blackened hand smacks across his body. A thud rips through the dark woods as his head lands onto the ground.

“ No ,” Beatrice screams, flying from her spot on Greg’s branches to the Woodsman. The Beast speaks through his laughs as he tells her there’s no use in trying to wake him. Then, as the rainbow colored eyes find Wirt, he moves in closer.

“S-Stay back,” Wirt warns as he pulls the lantern closer to his torso. Walking backwards, he shields Greg away from the Beast with a hand over his branches. His words fall on deaf ears as the Beast only moves closer and closer and the darkness around him drags Wirt in.

“You can’t save him. He’s too far gone for that now.”

“Th-That’s not true. Y-You’re just-” He takes a glimpse back at his brother as black overtakes him. In front of them, Beatrice disappears as well, leaving Wirt alone as the Beast continues.

“You can’t save him,” He states once more, “But I can.”

“Wh-What do you-” The light within the lantern glows harder. Wirt turns it to face him where he sees a small figure dancing in the light. There’s no form at first as the light shifts from one corner of the lantern to the next. Then, as the center brightens, it turns into what appears to be Greg, “I-I don’t-”

“I can keep your brother’s spirit alive as long as we trap it within the lantern. All that we have to do is find a way to remove the soul from the body in order to do so,” He raises a hand to the side where the Woodsman’s ax is lit, “It’s easy, Wirt. All it takes is one slash and your brother will be saved. All you have to do is take on the task of lantern bearer. A small price to pay for your brother’s soul.”

Wirt reaches out his hand, grabbing onto the wooden handle of the ax. It’s heavy as he picks it off of the ground, “Y-You want me to… kill Greg?” Shifting the ax, the Beast’s eyes reflect off of the metal. He keeps his own locked into them.

“Don’t consider it killing him. Consider it taking on a new form. It’s obvious that his current one is growing weaker. If he’s within the lantern, then there’s nothing that can get to him,” As the Beast gets closer, Wirt turns from the ax. He waits until the Beast stops again to look back up at him, “What do you say? Do we have a deal?” Holding out his hand, Wirt’s own trembles beside him- Moving slowly toward the Beast’s as it readies to seal his fate. As his fingers touch the shadow of the beast's hands, a cold shiver runs down his spine.

“ Wirt ?” A voice calls for him somewhere in the spot behind the Beast, “ Wirt ,” It calls again. Three more times it calls and Wirt finally takes his attention away from spectrum eyes. A flicker through the darkness, Wirt can see the Woodsman stirring. Another flicker, Beatrice points her wing toward him as she tells the Woodsman something. A third flicker-

“Get away from him!” Beatrice soars to the Beast as fast as she can to peck at different sections of his face. The hand so close to Wirt’s own flies backwards, sending him tumbling to the ground. As he does, his grip on the lantern loosens, but catches onto the edge of his shirt. Burning through the fabric, the fire catches to the skin of his forearm and he throws the lantern to the side. The fire already spreads across his exposed skin and as Wirt swats at it to put out the flame, searing pain hits instantly forcing him to fall to his knees. He pushes his palms into the wet ground below him. His eyes drop down to the red blotch on his arm spreading over every inch of exposed flesh. Pain so unbearable, his arm can’t keep him up any longer and he falls face down into the cold ground. He clenches clumps of dirt, releasing them every few seconds as a way of driving the pain away. When it doesn’t work and the pain begins spreading up his arm and over his neck, Wirt screams. No sound reaches his ears, though, as the burn breaks deeper into his skin. A humming rings instead as his ears try to search for any kind of noise. Then, as soon as it started, pain disappeared from his body leaving a dull ache on his arm. Sound returns as another ringing begins beside his ear. Wirt spots the lantern continuing to burn. The image of Greg is long gone and is replaced with horns sprouting from the head of a dancing golden figure.

The Beast?

Wirt watches the fire flicker in and out several times. Every single time, the image of the Beast becomes more clear.

“Wirt,” His name drowns out the sound of the lantern’s ringing and the light fades from his vision when he turns to find Beatrice beside him.

“B-Beatrice,” He gasps out as much as his voice allows him to, “Beatrice, the lantern. It’s-”

“Don’t worry about that right now. We need to get you and Greg out of here while the Woodsman takes care of the Beast,” She hops closer and suddenly realizes the injury over his arm, “Wirt, you’re hurt,” Moving closer, pieces of cold dirt hit his skin pulling a hiss out from the back of his throat.

Pushing through the pain, Wirt uses his other hand to tug out a pair of scissors from his pocket. The light shines from the lantern onto the golden color and it shows Wirt the exact moment Beatrice’s face recognizes them.

“ What ? You had them? This whole time ? How did you-”

He interrupts by pushing them closer to her. “I-It doesn’t matter. I need you to take them and get out of here.”

Instead of doing as she’s told, she flies up to be closer to his face and farther from the scissors, “What? No way. That’s not happening. I’m not leaving you again. Especially in the state that you’re in.”

“Beatrice… The Beast-”

“-is being taken care of. Look, we need to worry about you. Now, I know your arm is hurt, but if we use these scissors, we can cut Greg free and-”

“ Listen to me ,” He wants to shout, but it comes out as a solid choked out noise. The desperation must still be there if the way her eyes seem to startle says anything, “The Beast… Is in… The lantern,” He points the blunt end of the scissors to the still glowing lantern and Beatrice’s attention moves along with it, “That’s why he’s so set on keeping it lit. It’s him in there,” He watches her small eyes shake as it clicks for her. When it does, she snaps her head back to him.

“He was never going to put Greg in there. He just-”

“I don’t know why he wanted Greg dead. But he was never going to put his soul in the lantern. He was just trying to trick me.”

“I-Into… killing your own brother?” The shock slowly turns to fear and Wirt has to ignore the tears brimming her eyes. He focuses his attention back onto the scissors in his hands that he thrusts toward her.

“Get. Out. Of. Here. Take these, go to your family, and become human again. Then, wash your hands of this whole mess, okay?”

For a moment, panic flicks through her eyes. Something Wirt hasn’t seen much of in the past few days of traveling together. It’s quick to turn into determination and he’s familiar with that sort of reaction from her, “I’m. Not. Leaving. Not again,” Her wings bring her back into the sky, close enough for him to hear her next sentence, “I’m going to tell the Woodsman what’s going on and we’re going to get you back home,” She doesn’t let him respond. Only a soft, ‘Wait,’ escapes past his lips as she flies away. He watches as Beatrice gets close to the Woodsman’s ear who had just swung his ax close enough to the Beast for him to let out a hiss. This gives a moment for Beatrice to mumble a sentence Wirt can practically hear as the Woodsman’s eyes shoot open.

As do the Beast’s that land back onto Wirt.

“You,” In a low growl, he moves closer. The Woodsman snaps out of his shock long enough to swing a final time only for it to miss as the Beast raises his hand to throw both him and Beatrice back to the ground.

“ Beatrice ,” He groans. Anything else he could say is silenced by the Beast enveloping him back into darkness until it’s just him and the Beast once again.

“I was trying to spare you. And now you’ve messed everything up,” The Beast holds out his hand and the pain across his arm flairs back up. Wirt swallows down his groans only for them to spill out anyway when the pain travels from his elbow to his neck and up to his head. Images of pure black consume his thoughts, leaving only spectrum eyes as a light, “Who do you think you are anyway? You don’t belong here. You’re just some child who wandered too far from home and ended up in my forest. You don’t belong here ,” A soft chuckle escapes, “But now… Now you belong to me.”

“I-I don’t- No. N-No. I’m just trying to go home. That’s all I want,” He manages to say, hoping that the fear isn’t evident in his tone.

“This is your home now.  My lantern needs to stay lit. I gave you a choice and now you’re going to do it whether you want to or not,” He moves closer, then pain deepens. A hand reaches for  Wirt who squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can- Bracing for impact. But nothing comes. Opening them slightly, a bright light beside him beams harder. What the Beast is after. What he’s always been after.

“If there’s no lantern,” He mumbles. Voice growing louder, “If there’s no lantern, there’s no Beast,” Something in his words, stops the Beast. Black flickers around him- A light going out in his eyes, “ If there’s no lantern -” Without really thinking, Wirt grasps the lantern and the darkness around him disappears entirely. He doesn’t focus on it. Instead, he takes one final look at the Beast, then smashes the lantern onto the ground. Over and over and over. Small embers hit the ground. Some merge together to create bigger ones. Fire begins to lighten the ground. Smoke fills the air as a fire ignites onto the ground. Flames blaze high enough for the area to be illuminated and Wirt manages to find Beatrice and the Woodsman watching from afar. Making eye contact only for a moment until a screech echoes through the trees. Fire burns higher and higher as smoke begins to spread. Wirt turns his face to the ground to avoid it, but smoke finds its way to his nostrils and the burning sensation from his arms and lungs combine to make the area turn dizzy. He coughs out smoke yet more finds its way back into his mouth making even the smallest breaths harder. His eyes water and he tries to blink the tears away. He searches for Beatrice only to find the Beast in front of him- only segregated away by a sudden raging fire- the Beast crumbles to the ground. Fear taking over him as he screams out threats toward him. None that he can make out as Beatrice moves back to his side.

“Wirt. Wirt? Are you okay? Can you hear me?” She exclaims, drowning out the threats from the Beast. He watches as the Beast slowly fades, leaving only burnt dust scattered across the ground. Beatrice calls his name again and he manages to meet her eye contact. She cries, he almost wants to tell to not cry over him, “Oh, Wirt. You’re in bad shape.”

He knows. He can feel every ache and pain to the bone. He can feel the smoke building in his lungs. He inhales deeply and it hurts. Yet he still finds the strength to speak.

“You know, before everything that happened with Adelaide, I really thought about asking you to go with us. Wh-When we went home. I’ve seen so much of this place. Maybe too much of it,” He chuckles. At least, he attempts until the pain forces out a cough instead, “And I thought you’d be interested in going with us.”

“I… I would have loved to,” Tears spill over, hitting against his cheek. “I still would love to. We still can. We just have to get you some help, okay? The Woodsman knows a house we can take you to and you can rest,” Behind them, the Woodsman picks up his ax again. Making sure that the Beast is truly gone by scattering the ashes. After, he moves to where Greg stirs within the branches that slowly untangle themselves from him.

“G-Greg…. Get Greg home,” His throat burns with each word as the smoke around them heightens. Beatrice doesn’t seem to flinch or even recognize the fire burning. He wants to ask why, but she interrupts.

“Get him home yourself, Wirt. You’re going to be fine. You just need to rest for a bit.”

He doesn’t respond to it. A question rushes through his mind, “We were friends, right? Before Adelaide, we were becoming friends, right? It wasn’t just in my head?”

Taken aback by the question, she searches over his face, “Of course we were. I’m so sorry for… What happened with Adelaide. You have to understand that I thought I was doing what was right by my family. I would’ve never done what I did after you and I-”

“Your family,” He groans as he pulls himself up to find the scissors by his head. He drags them back to sit between them, “Here. Help your family. Then, get Greg back home,” Behind her, the fire raises, smoke burns faster, and Wirt’s mind spins. Everything around him blurs together as he finally gives into it.

The last thing he hears is Beatrice calling out his name.

******************************

Darkness. 

Then, Singing.

A mournful melody drowned out by a chorus of voices. Somber, disorienting, too far away.

Sounds of metal scraping against dirt. A distant voice- ‘ You’ll join us soon enough .’

Ringing of bells as a voice whispers, ‘ The ringing of the bell compels you .’

A voice filled with regret, ‘ This is your burden to bear .’ Then, silence.

Snip

Snip

Snip

The darkness gives way to falling feathers.

The sound of murmurs stir him from his sleep and there’s a soft light as his eyes open. In the corner, the Woodsman stands- ax in hand, but his demeanor appears to be relaxed as he speaks to someone in front of him.

“I’m not certain,” He whispers, “There’s no way of knowing just yet,” The other voice begins speaking. The Woodsman responds once more, “He can’t do this without-” That is, until Wirt moves and the bed below him begins to creak.

“W-Woodsman?” Letting the quilt fall past his arms, he rubs his temple, then looks around the room when his vision comes back to him. Something looks familiar about the design and the green and cream colored walls, but the throbbing headache forming behind his eyes doesn’t allow him to think about it for too long, “Wh-Where… am I? Where-” Panic sets in, “Where’s Greg? Where’s Greg ?” His hands grip the edge of the quilt to throw off of him, but the Woodsman stops him.

The ax is set against the wall, “Relax, boy,” He walks closer with both palms up, “Your brother is beside you.”

Doing as he’s told, he looks to the other end of the bed where Greg lays curled into a pillow. Toward the top of the bed, his frog sleeps as well. Wirt keeps an eye on Greg’s breathing to make sure it’s steady. Only then does he let himself sit back and relax. He takes a good look at the ceiling above him, then closes his eyes to try and chase away the remainder of his headache.

“I’m more concerned for you. That’s some burn you got there on your arm. I did what I could. Bandaged it and all. The only thing now is to wait for it to fully heal. I would say that the pain may hurt for a day or two, though.”

“Actually, I don’t really feel anything,” He rubs his forearm, feeling the rough bandage with the tips of his finger. Only a tinge of pain.

Then, a hand touches his own to nudge away so that it can feel over the bandage.

“It looked pretty bad earlier. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” Beatrice’s voice speaks and the edge of his lips curl. His free hand hovers over the one on his arm before he fully places it down. The warmth of their combined skin seeps through the bandage and the tinge heightens. Only Wirt can’t seem to bring himself to care.

“Eh, I’ve had far worse pains than this,” He tangles their fingers, “Remember when that innkeeper was so mad at me for bringing a bird inside her shop that she hit me with her broom? I still don’t understand why she was so upset over you being a… a-”

A bird, he wants to say.

A bird she’s supposed to be.

Except, the hand that he holds feels too… human .

When his eyes open and she’s the first thing he sees, there’s no blue feathers or a small black beak. There’s no bird hovering over his bed. Instead, there’s a girl. Red messy curls pulled back by a single string- pieces falling here and there over pale freckled skin. Dark eyes that he can’t make out the color of watch his reaction carefully as her bottom lip is gnawed between her teeth. Blue feathers were replaced with a blue dress flowing over her body save for her arms and hands.

A hand that he’s still holding onto.

He releases her. But she doesn’t move away.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” She asks, each word filled with annoyance. Something else, though.

Worry?

Concern?

Embarrassment.

Wirt couldn’t pinpoint it. He wasn’t given time to anyway.

“Are you able to walk?”

“ Beatrice . Beatrice, you’re human ,” He states in shock. The reaction gains an eye roll.

“Yeah, smart guy. That much is obvious. You’re the one who gave me the scissors, remember?”

“Y-Yeah, I did. B-But I wasn’t… expecting to see you as… I-I thought that when I gave the… You’d… Leave.”

Beatrice shoots a glance to the Woodsman behind them, “He’s stuttering, so he’s definitely feeling back to normal,” She finally moves, beckoning for Wirt to follow her, “Come on, I need to see if you can make it to the wall or if I need to carry both you and Greg.”

“Greg? Wait… Carry? Where are we-”

She nods. Impatience must take over when she throws the remainder of the blanket off of him, “We’re getting you back home. Keep up, Wirt.”

“Home? But what about-” There’s a dull ache behind his eyes and briefly, the air around him smells of smoke, “The Beast? Is he still out there?”

Beatrice opens her mouth. But no words come out. Behind her, though, the Woodsman speaks up for her, “The lantern grows cold,” He picks his ax back up, “Worry about getting home.”

Home .

Wirt glances over to his brother. The pale sickly color he had earlier fades as a red tint returns to his cheeks. The purple bags under his eyes are long gone. There’s still a cold shiver to his skin, but other than that, he seems to be returning back to normal. Not wanting to risk it, Wirt grips the edge of the mattress, meeting Beatrice’s eyes as she watches him intently. His legs feel weak, but he manages to stand off of the bed, “Okay, lets-” It’s not for long when his legs buckle under him. Thankfully, Beatrice is close enough that she steadies him with a hand under his arm- trying to avoid his burn. Meanwhile, Wirt rests his hand over her shoulder to pull himself back up, “Th-Thanks.”

“No problem. It’s kind of funny, you know. I’ve spent most of my time perched on your shoulder and now, here you are on mine,” She chuckles, warm air hitting his cheek.

He feigns annoyance by letting out a dry chuckle, but something warm spreads throughout his chest, settling in over his face that he shies away from her.

“Are you able to walk on your own?” She asks again. She removes her hand from his side and he pulls his own away and keeps his leg steady. Taking a few steps forward, Wirt grows his strength back.

“I-I think so,” He sighs, then looks at Greg still sleeping. He moves over to his side of the bed where he carefully swoops Greg and the frog up into his arms. Moving over to Beatrice, she takes the frog from him, giving Wirt the chance to turn Greg over to lay across his back, “Well?”

******************************

Exiting the house, Wirt expects to see a blazing fire. At the very least, he expects to see the chaos that follows a fire. Smoke in the air, ash flying around, scorched ground. Something that shows what really happened moments ago. Instead, there’s nothing but snow piling on the ground save for patches of dirt here and there.

He also looks around for any trace of where the Beast’s ashes may have been. He’s not given long to do so as a hand wraps around his wrist and Beatrice drags him away from the porch.

“Come on, it’s too cold for Greg to be out here.”

“Where is… The fire?” He gets out, earning a burrowed brow look from Beatrice.

“The what?”

He opens his mouth to mention the fire again. The words die on his tongue, though, as Greg stirs behind him. He lets Beatrice tug him away from the house and any thought he had of fires.

The farther they go, the colder it gets. He can tell by the way Beatrice shivers beside him. He wants to offer his jacket to her. Those words also get stuck in his throat. Before long, they stand beside a river that ripples as snowflakes fall into it. Past it, the wall hangs tall- Beckoning Wirt to move closer. As he does, the bandage across his forearm tightens. He shutters- from either the pain or the cold, he isn’t sure. Beatrice beside him asks if he’s okay and he manages to stutter out a, ‘Yes ,’ and he moves closer to the wall.

Something felt strange. Maybe it’s the end of a journey he never meant to take. Maybe it was how different everything felt than when he saw this wall for the first time. What was meant as an escape is now a gateway back into his own reality.

Except…

“This is how you got here?” Beatrice asks, finding her space beside him. He moves Greg around to press him into his chest. Then, he sets Greg down onto the ground carefully before turning to Beatrice.

“I need you to give me a boost, okay?”

She nods, then bends her hands down together. Wirt immediately grabs onto her shoulders, puts his foot into her hands, and she helps thrust him up to the top of the wall. He grabs onto the bricks below him and kicks against her hands to sit atop the stone wall. He motions for Greg and the frog that she hands over to him.

After, there comes a moment where Wirt settles Greg against him- the frog tucked under his arm- and Wirt meets the eyes of his friend below him.

This is it, huh?

This is where the goodbye is supposed to happen.

‘ Goodbye, Beatrice ,’ He would say followed by a thousand words he’d wished he could tell her yet couldn’t.

‘ Goodbye Wirt ,’ She’d say in return, leaving an ache in his chest.

But that never comes. Their eyes stay locked for longer than they should. Her lips hang open as if she’s ready to say something. That is, until a jumble of voices behind them takes her attention away from him. She spins back, looking for something as if she knew this would happen. The voices get higher and he can make out several different words.

‘She’s not here.’

‘She said she’d be back.’

‘Where is-’

Beatrice spins back to him. This time with a look of concern, “H-Hey, so… Did you mean what you said?”

He squints down at her, “What did I say?”

“When you said that you wanted me to go back to your home with you. Did you mean that?”

“I-I…” Wirt clears his throat to chase away any cowardice that might show, “Did… B-But that was just a heat of the moment thing. I never expected you to want to. Y-Your family is here a-and… You’re human again. Don’t you want to go back to your family?”

She ignores that. She tells him something that takes him by surprise, “I do, though. I do want to go with you.”

“A-Are you sure? It seems like a rushed decision to make.”

“ Wirt ,” She practically screams, “If the past few days together have meant anything to you- If I mean anything to you- then you’ll help me climb this wall right now.”

The decision doesn’t take long to make. He bends toward her, hand stretched out for her to grab onto. When she does, he pulls to his side. Both of her feet kick at the wall. Slipping every once in a while and tugging Wirt’s arm down. The burn across his forearm begins to hurt each time she does.

Neither of them stop until she’s sitting across from him. The blue dress bunches upward and it leaves her legs exposed. She doesn’t seem to notice as a grin spreads across her mouth. He tries not to notice and reaches for the tree branch beside them. Grabbing onto it, he climbs down the bark, only stopping when his feet hit the soil below them. Beatrice follows behind him, but Wirt doesn’t have time to think about it when his foot catches onto a rock on the ground and he tumbles forward. He manages to push Greg out of his way in time for his face to hit the dirt. There’s a dull pain on his arm- behind his as well- that quickly deepens. He clenches his fist to chase it away, but it only worsens. Moving once again through his whole arm and over his neck, then it reaches his head.

“ Augh !” He yells out without trying to. As if his body's automatic response was to scream. He does it again and again until his vision goes in and out.

“ Wirt ,” Beatrice at his side grabs onto his back. He looks at her, but there’s no form to her. Red hair, blue dress, white skin mix together until she’s nothing but a blur. He blinks over and over, hoping that he can bring her back. It doesn’t work. The last time he tries, his eyes don’t open back up.

Chapter Text

Beatrice was looking out of her former bedroom’s window- A place she never thought she’d be back in and it was surprising that she was here now. Only now, though, because the Woodsman was using her family’s former home as a workshop. A fact that she only found out a little over an hour ago when he brought Wirt and Greg here to rest before leaving for the woods again.

“ There’s work that needs tending ,” He said without giving her a chance to even question what that meant. Then again, based on the grim look he was giving off and the strong grip he had on his ax, she didn’t want to risk asking.

Which leaves her in her bedroom that wasn’t her bedroom anymore with her two passed out friends. Staring at cold fog became boring quickly, so she flies over to the headboard of her former bed. Greg cuddles up with his frog who was croaking away and Wirt on the opposite side of the bed who was snoring. She lets herself smile.

She wouldn’t admit it out loud- not that anyone would hear her anyway- but being near them gave her a sense of comfort that she hasn’t had in… Well, since she became a blue bird. It felt like, for once, there was something to do other than wander around. Somewhere to go, someone to be with. She keeps her attention down on Wirt and  the scratch across his cheek that she’s only now noticing. It wasn’t nearly as bad compared to the burn on his arm, but looking at it forms a knot in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t cause it, that must have happened when he hit the ground earlier. It doesn’t stop her from feeling guilty. Which was strange.  Two days ago, she didn’t believe that she would grow attached to two lost boys in the forest. Roaming around aimlessly, no real purpose in life- They were merely a pawn for her to use for her real goal. To give them to Adelaide in exchange for the scissors to help her family. That plan obviously failed. Well, except getting the scissors back thanks to Wirt managing to swipe them from Adelaide. She’ll have to remember that he was okay with stealing things when it came to him being mad at her for the next time that happens.

That is, if that happens.

‘ I really thought about asking you to go with us .’

The knot in her stomach tightens harder. A different emotion altogether this time. One that she couldn’t pinpoint because of how foreign it felt. Wirt’s words were the cause of it, though. The idea of him admitting that he wanted her to go with them wasn’t something that she could wrap her mind around. Because it meant something that she couldn’t wrap her mind around.

He… Cares about her.

And she cares about him.

Which makes watching them in this state hard. So much so that she has to look away and that’s when she spots the scissors on the floor. They must have dropped out of the Woodsman’s pocket when he was carrying them in. She flies over to them, looking over the golden feather pattern on one end of the blade. She makes a snap decision. She needs to be human again and as soon as possible, so she opens the scissors- Both feet on one end and a wing pushing the other away. That was the easy part. The hard part is how she’s supposed to snip her wings away without using her wings. 

Maybe if she lays her wings between the blades and uses her feet to close them.

No, that won’t work. Her feet don’t have the strength enough to close them.

Maybe if she can maneuver the scissors to sit up right, then she’ll set her wing to the right angle.

No, that won’t do, either.

“Come on,” She mumbles, “You have to-”

“I leave for an hour and you try mangling yourself?” The voice stops her, the scissors falling back to the ground. Behind her, the Woodsman shakes off the remaining snow on his coat and sets down two lanterns onto the table before moving to stand over her.

“I wasn’t trying to ‘mangle myself.’ I was only trying to cut my wings off,” She states and- yeah, okay- it sounds as bad as he made it out to be. She rubs her head with the same wing she had been trying to cut off moments prior, “It’s the only way for me to become human again, okay?”

“Looks like you’re struggling with that.”

“What gave that away?” She scoffs, “It’s hard to cut them off when they’re all I have to work with.”

“I’d say. Real hands are required for that task,” He replied with a hint of amusement. Bending down to her level, he plucks the scissors off of the ground- Snipping them several times before looking at her, “Suppose I could help if you wish to be human again,” She nods, then flies to sit in the palm of his hand he holds out, “What's the sudden need?”

 “I… I have some things that I need to take care of. I need to be human to do them,” She tells him without giving too much context. He didn’t ask for any, either, because- for some reason- he already knew.

“This about your family?”

“How did you-”

Interrupting her, he chuckles, “Been walking these woods for many years. Very little happens without me knowing.”

“Yeah? Anything stranger than an entire family becoming blue birds?”

“Much more so. Seen stranger things, done stranger things myself,” A somber expression spreads over the Woodsman’s face and she thinks that the dimly lit lantern behind them makes it even more mysterious.

“Okay?” She responds, drawing out the word. She was waiting for more of a response from the man in front of her, but the only thing that came was a long silence. He must tire of that when he speaks again.

“Now I can’t promise that this won’t hurt,” He snips the scissors again. This time, something felt too intimidating about it- too real about it.  She had been a bird for so long that she doesn’t even remember what it’s like being human. Walking around on two legs without having to hop sounds strange at this point. Not being able to fly? That’s going to be weird. Never having to eat maggots or worms?

Well, that was a plus actually. Remembering the day she told Greg that she eats maggots and the reaction he gave her, she couldn’t blame him. It was pretty gross. Definitely not something that she became used to, even after being a bird for the months that she was. She looks to Greg, still sleeping on his side of the bed. Whatever he’s dreaming must be nice if the soft smile he has tells her anything. She can’t imagine Greg dreaming anything but the nicest dreams and she hopes that it remains that way and that nothing that’s happened recently affects him for the worst.

Beside him, Wirt shifts and her attention finds him. His expression- as usual- is the exact opposite of Greg’s as he looks almost troubled. His eyebrows furrow together with an almost scowl. He’s chewing at his bottom lip as if he’s in pain. The bed moves underneath him when he turns to the opposite wall than he had been facing. It scared her in a way to see him like this when he was sleeping peacefully only moments ago. Her first reaction is to leave the Woodsman’s grasp, peck at Wirt’s shoulder, and wake him from whatever nightmare he’s having. But then, the look disappears altogether, settling down into his usual relaxed one. Well, as relaxed as she’s ever seen Wirt, which hasn’t been often. Then again, she hasn’t known him for too long, so she has no idea what relaxed is for him.

She’s thinking too much.

Too much that she doesn’t notice the scissors closing in on her wing until a sting hits her. It’s slow at first, starting off as a pinch that’s more irritating than painful. Then, it grows into discomfort that spreads from her wing to her head and throughout her body. The Woodsman mumbles something that she can’t quite understand, “What did you just say?”

With no warning, the scissors fully close in on her wing and permanently cutting it away from her body, leaving a hot, throbbing pain in its place.

“ Augh !” Beatrice cried before  all of the air in her lungs was knocked out. She didn’t dare to look at the open wound where her wing once was and instead, she buried her face into the Woodsman’s palm. ‘ There, there ,’ She hears him comforting her, following it up with how it’s almost over. It only does so much to soothe her when he cuts away the other wing in a quicker way than the last. She sees moments of life flash before her, as if she had actually been dying. Tending to dinner with her mom, having fights with her brothers and sisters, roaming the woods with her dog. Everything that’s happened before she went and ruined it all with a rock thrown at a blue bird.

Moments after that happened when she decided to leave her family out of guilt and all she could do was wander alone.

Meeting Greg and Wirt and feeling like she didn’t have to be alone anymore. Out of pure need, Beatrice finds Wirt again, still sleeping and unaware of what’s happening around him. Watching him sleep was almost like a remedy for the agony she was feeling. Or watching him do anything for that matter. Another thing that she would never admit out loud.

But Wirt disappears when the Woodsman sits Beatrice onto the ground, patting the top of her head before pulling away. The pain heightens- affecting every bit of her body- then, it fades. Her breathing returns to normal and she lets out a deep gasp.

Her eyes open, but her vision is blurry. Every color mingles together and the only thing she can recognize is what she assumes is the Woodsman’s feet moving to her. He presses his hand into her back to help her back to her feet.

“All right?” He asks her. Her vision comes back in time to see the look of worry he has. She rubs her eyes to chase away any remainder of blur. When she removes her hands from her eyes, she sees skin. No more blue feathers, but pale skin that she hasn’t seen in a long time. She looks over her arms at every freckle that she previously hated, but has never been so happy to have. Her hands move into her loose red hair to bring the curls toward her eyes for her to get a good look at.

“ I’m human again !” She exclaims, but swallows back down when the sleeping boys in the room stir, “I’m human again.”

“Aye. Must be a strange feeling after being a bird for so long. It’ll take some getting used to. Maybe take it easy at first.”

“What are you talking about? I feel completely fi-” The word catches in her throat when she tries to stand only to nearly fall face forward onto the ground. If it wasn’t for the Woodsman catching her by the waist, she would have. He gives her a Told-You-So look that she meekly smiles at, “Okay, so maybe it’ll take some getting used to.”

“Hm. Are you able to find your family on your own? The snow has slowed, but will still be hard to manage for someone who hasn’t walked in so long.”

“Don’t have much of a choice,” She plucks the scissors from him while moving out of his grasp, “I’ll be back soon,” She makes sure to keep a slow pace to walk to the door. She opens it and the cold air almost takes her breath away again. Another thing she’d have to get used to is not having feathers to keep her warm. She goes to step out of the room when something warm wraps around. She looks down to find Wirt’s blue cloak over her shoulders and the Woodsman putting it there. She gives him a confused look.

“The boy doesn’t have much use for it. Don’t see why he would mind.”

She shrugs as a reply, then tugs the cloak tighter around her torso. She takes a final look at Wirt and Greg sleeping- hears the Woodsman tell her that he’ll watch after them- then, she leaves.

It wasn’t hard to find her family’s tree. She visited it as often as she could in the months of them being blue birds. Not to their knowledge, of course, but from a far enough distance that she could hear their conversations and pretend that she was still part of them.  The tree wasn’t too far from their actual home yet it was far enough that her body was shivering when she reached her family.

She hesitates on knocking on the trunk and wonders if she should just leave the scissors and head back where she belongs. Guilt builds up at the idea of not at least seeing them, though. She owed them that.

She reaches up to knock, but freezes when a small pair of black eyes spot her. It was hard to decipher the many faces of her family when it came to them as blue birds. Save for her mother’s that she could always recognize whether as human or a bird.

That exact face raises in surprise, “ Beatrice ?”

Not knowing what else to do when the tension heightens, Beatrice gives her best smile and holds out the pair of golden scissors, “Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, Beatrice,” Only a second later, her mom left the tree to hug her cheek. She felt wetness hit her skin from her mom’s tears and she had to bite back the urge to let her own tears out. Her mom cries for a moment more before switching to a different attitude- Anger.

“Where have you been, young lady? We’ve been worried sick about you,” Behind her mom, her dad wakes up and several of her siblings as well. It’s not long for every member of her family to peak out at the commotion. Once they realize what’s happening- once they realize who’s in front of them- more of her family comes to greet her. With either muffled comments as several of them spoke at once or small hugs. Guilt slowly fades, bringing content in its place. Until she sees her mom again and that same anger is there.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave for as long as I did. I was just, um…” Beatrice inhales, preparing to admit the truth, “I-It’s my fault. That we’re blue birds. Well, that you’re blue birds. I was mad that day and I can’t even remember why since it’s been so long. I left to calm down and this bird kept flying around me. I picked up a rock and threw it at the bird hoping that it’d just scare it off. Turns out the bird was magical and cursed us,” She pulls Wirt’s cloak closer to her, letting the comfort of it melt away the shame she’s feeling, “I… I wanted to come to tell you, but I was so afraid of admitting it. After that day, I swore that I’d never go back home until I found a way to fix everything. Long story short,” She holds the scissors back up, “I did.”

“Beatrice,” It’s her dad who speaks this time, taking a place on her shoulder, “The scissors didn’t matter nor did being human again. We just wanted you home,” Her dad’s sweet tone came close to pulling emotions from her that she wasn’t ready to deal with. She swallows them all back down.

“I-I know that. B-But I am now. And I can fix all of this,” She snips the scissors, mimicking how the Woodsman did so earlier, “I just have to be quick about it. There’s something else that I have to deal with.”

She had expected that her family would be excited by this. But when her parents looked between themselves- concerned yet knowing - it was a surprise, “What is it?”

“You’re not leaving again, are you?”

“Wh-What? No, that’s not what I meant. O-Of course I’m…” She defends herself, but even she wasn’t entirely sure of the answer. Wirt’s words suddenly replay in her head- ‘ And I thought you’d be interested in going with us. ’

Was that something that he really meant to tell her or something that he felt like he had to do given the circumstances? She wasn’t sure, nor was she sure of how she felt about that. She couldn’t leave her family again. They were supposed to become human, go back to their home, and find their way back to a normal life. That was the plan- That has always been the plan . Then, two lost boys come along and that plan becomes muddled. She still wanted to be with her family and make up for lost times. But how can she do that when there’s another person out there that she wants to be with just as much?

“ I really thought about asking you to go with us .”

“- About asking you to go with us .”

“- Go with us .”

Too many thoughts at once, Beatrice picks her parents back up to set them on the entrance of their tree. The concerned look they have grows deeper. Beatrice has to look away and focuses on sliding the scissors to them.

“There’s a Woodsman in the forest not too far from here. He knows where you’re living. Take these to him when you’re ready and he’ll turn you back. He’s… He’s a good man. I… I love you guys,” Without a second thought, Beatrice turns away from them, trying as best as she could to ignore the pleas coming from her family. If she didn’t she may have changed her mind and she couldn’t do that now. Maybe one day they’d understand.

As a way of losing them even though she was certain they weren’t following her,  Beatrice runs through several groups of trees, the cold air stealing every breath she has. When she finally stops only feet from her home’s porch, the sounds of her family are long gone, leaving an ache that doesn’t have time to settle when the door is thrown open. Startling her, the Woodsman hovers at the door, lantern in his hand and a grim look across his features.

******************************

“ What do you mean the light came back ?” Beatrice screeches under her breath as to not wake Wirt and Greg. She tosses the cloak back onto its spot on the table- ignoring the shiver from the cold air and the sudden revelation. Her hair falls every which way and she finally has enough that she tears a piece of fabric from the bottom of her dress to wrap around it. It takes some maneuvering, but she manages to get the majority tied away. Sitting in the only chair in the room, the Woodsman’s focus is glued to the lantern’s center. He grips the ax in his other hand as if he was readying for another fight. She ignores that to also focus on what little of the lantern he was letting her see. What had been pure darkness before has now become a flicker of light. As the Woodsman had put it earlier- ‘ The soul within still burns -’ “Wirt put it out. You saw him do so. He threw the lantern down and the fire was gone.”

“The Beast may not be as easy to rid of,” He tells her. She waits for more of an answer, but never gets one.

“What does that mean? That the Beast is still out there? Well, if he is, then where is he? I ran through all of those woods just now and I didn’t see any Beast.”

Before the Woodsman can reply, Wirt stirs in his sleep- An uncomfortable groan that dies away on his lips as he settles back down. When it does, she looks back at the Woodsman and she’s unable to read what expression he has as she stares at him.

“I’m not certain. Wherever he is, he’ll be after them. They’re not safe here,” He stands from the chair and that’s when Beatrice gets a glimpse into the lantern. Just as it was before, the light does flicker- in and out several times, “They must return home.”

“Uh-huh? That was sort of the plan the whole time.”

“You must go with them.”

Beatrice, about to say that that was also part of the plan, decides against it. The rushed decision still leaves a pang of guilt inside of her and she doesn’t want to tell him that she was abandoning her family a second time. Instead, she lets him believe that it was his idea.

“Why exactly do I have to go with them?”

“I’m not certain just yet,” It’s a whisper and she wonders if she was even supposed to hear it. She can tell that there’s something he’s not telling her- something that he won’t tell her, “He can’t do this without-”

Wirt moves, finally coming to himself. Confused at first, he asks where he’s at, then turns to more panic as he asks about Greg. The Woodsman reassures him and that settles him down- laying back on the pillow with his eyes resting again. Beatrice moves from behind the Woodsman to sit on the edge of his side. He doesn’t notice at first as he carries on his conversation. Then, her hand touches the bandages wrapped around his arm. She touches them, the first time she’s able to feel the heat rising off of Wirt’s body from her own skin. Her heart speeds up and it takes away any fear of the Beast and the guilt of her family. He talks to her once, then realizes that she’s human and she jokes as a way of taking away the embarrassment she’s feeling. He’s looking too close at her. She asks him to walk- a task he can only do with her help. It solidifies her decision.

“We’re getting you back home. Keep up, Wirt.”

“-The Beast? Is he still out there?”

She can’t speak, unsure of that answer and unwilling to lie to him. The Woodsman speaks for her.

“The lantern grows cold.”

******************************

‘ She’s not here .’

‘ She said she’d be back .’

‘ Where is- ’

Beatrice knew this would happen. From the moment she ran, she knew. The voices of her family ring through the woods and to the garden wall where she had been about to admit to Wirt that she was coming with him. She had a whole sappy speech prepared that she didn’t even begin when she heard her name being called. Instead, she snaps back up as his face from above, “H-Hey, so…”

It’s not hard to talk him into things- she’s thankful for that when he reaches out his hand for her. As she sits across from him, she can feel his glare. He’s waiting for an answer to why she chose this. There’s no time for that and he grabs onto the tree closest to him.

******************************

This time, when the pain hits him again and he passes out, she’s completely alone.

The sounds of her family vanish somewhere behind the wall and any confidence she has goes with it.

“Wirt?” She calls out while his eyes disappear from her sight, “ Wirt ,” She says again to no avail. She does this over and over and over until her voice cracks in her throat. She does this until another voice calls out his name. She startles when she sees a light coming toward them. She tugs Wirt into her lap- Greg tucked behind her- and away from whatever was coming their way. The lantern light gets closer, but when she finally sees it, it doesn’t look like a lantern or anything that she recognizes. Neither do any of the people standing across from her. A group of people she assumes to be around her age, dressed in outfits that she’s unfamiliar with. The one in the center being the only exception in a more colorful version that she recognizes as a clown outfit- one almost like the ones she’s seen in photographs.

They get closer to her and Beatrice has to fight the urge to defend them. When the clown speaks, calling out Wirt’s name in concern, Beatrice realizes that they know him and that means safety.

For the first time, she lets the tears fall, “ Please ,” She pleads, looking over the entire group, “Please help them.”

Without a second thought, the clown pulls another light from her pocket and taps against it. Soon, there’s a ringing through the air that would startle her if she wasn’t focused on her tears pouring over Wirt’s face.

Chapter Text

There’s a rush of blood to his head when Wirt finally wakes up, hopefully after passing out for the last time. Once was embarrassing enough, but passing out twice in the same day left him feeling weak. Which, he had to admit was probably true given how broken his body felt when he tried to sit up.

“Whoa, take it easy,” A familiar voice warns him and soft but firm hands make it so that he can’t move past the mattress. Giving into it, he settles back down. When he does, the lights in the room get brighter and it makes opening his eyes harder than he would have liked. They do, though, and he sees Sara hovering over him. The first thing he notices is the face paint melting, revealing different areas of her skin. The next is her hand that’s lingering over his knee that stays there even when he’s fully conscious and he can’t stop the stuttering that comes after that.

“H-Hey, uh… S-Sara. Wha- What are you doing here? In- In my… Actually, where am I?”

“The hospital,” She removes the hand on his knee, giving him the ability to breathe again, “You had a pretty bad accident.”

“Accident? What kind of accident?”

“I don't know. There was some kind of accident that your friend told us about.”

“My friend? What frie-” Wirt shoots up, nearly taking Sara out on the way, he’s suddenly remembering everything that’s happened within the span of the past twenty-four hours. The Beast, the Unknown, finally getting home with Greg. Most importantly, he remembers who he brought with him. That someone sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room, looking lost and also slightly annoyed if the furrowed brow she had told him anything. He hasn’t known her as human for too long, but he’d like to think that he can read her expressions well enough now. And that one didn’t seem too pleased. Not until their eyes meet and it hits her that he’s finally noticed her presence. Her annoyance turns to surprise, then turns into concern. Then, when he whispers out her name and Sara shifts around to Beatrice, she looks nervous- tugging at the edges of his cloak that he hadn’t noticed she was wearing until it was very clear that she was wearing his cloak .

Wirt swallows the lump in his throat, “B-Beatrice? Y-you’re-”

“Y-Yeah, I am,” She finishes the sentence for him like they both had the same thought.

“B-But I-I don’t understand. H-How is this… Is this… Possible?”

“A… Apparently, seeing as I’m here,” She breaks the distance- pulling herself out the chair and hesitantly moves to his bed, opposite of where Sara is at. Where Sara was at when she leaves as soon as Beatrice is at his side. The cloak falls over her and it hides every part of her except her face that isn’t even looking at him. If she had been, then she’d see that he couldn't take his own eyes off of her. Something about that makes him turn momentarily to his bandaged arm on the top of his blanket.

“Um… H-How-” She clears her throat, “How are you feeling? It looked like you were in a lot of pain when we climbed over the wall.”

“Y-Yeah, Uh, I’m not sure what happened back there. I-I guess the excitement of everything finally kicked in.”

She scoffs, “I wouldn’t exactly use excitement to describe all of that. Disturbed is more like it.”

Wirt chuckles, causing Beatrice to look at him again, “Disturbed is a good word. You could also say that it was scarring,” He points to the bandage, “At least for me it was.”

She’s stunned briefly, then it’s pure amusement, “You have a weird sense of humor. I guess it’s expected from the same guy who reads depressing poetry to himself at night.”

“Wh-What? H-How did you-”

“You told me, remember? In the armoire at Endicott’s mansion. You play the clarinet and whisper poetry to yourself. Plus, I may have known that beforehand. You were reciting poetry in your sleep at the schoolhouse.”

Heat rises over his cheeks that he hides behind both of his hands, “Y-Yeah, so, let’s… let’s never mention that ever again.”

“Hm, sorry, can’t promise that. In fact, I think I remember some of your exact words,” She clears her throat, this time to recite whatever poem he had said while sleeping. Thankfully, there’s a cough on the opposite side of the room. Both him and Beatrice find Sara close to the spot that Beatrice had been in previously. If Wirt was embarrassed earlier, then he’s practically dying at this point.

“S-Sara. H-Hi. S-Sorry. I guess… I forgot that you were… Here. Um…” Looking at her, he spots the moment the corner of her mouth cracks into a smile that she shoots between the two of them. It hits him that this is the first time they’ve ever met and both Beatrice and Sara must be confused. He’s about to introduce Beatrice, but then he doesn’t know how to do that.

‘ Hey, Sara. So, this is Beatrice. She used to be this talking bird that was traveling with us on the other side of the garden wall that might be another dimension where skeletons wear pumpkins, horses can talk, and a monster was terrorizing the townsfolk until we stopped him. Now we’re friends and she's here on our side even though neither of us know how that's possible. ’

His hospital room may have become the psych ward if he had said all of that. Instead, he says the next best thing. Or at least the next thing that comes to mind, “She’s my… cousin?” He states and both Beatrice and Sara speak, ‘ What ?’ in unison. Wirt isn’t sure who to look at, so he ends up shifting his eyes between them, “Y-Yeah. Sh-She’s my cousin from out of town. She’s here because her family is… They took a vacation out of the states. Yeah, that sounds like it makes sense,” The last part wasn’t meant to be said outside of his thoughts. It earns him a strange look from Sara and a mumbled curse under Beatrice’s breath.

“Right, okay,” The excuse either works really well that Sara actually believes it or it was so bad that she felt the need to have pity on him. Either way, she seems to accept it, “Well, Wirt’s  cousin, it’s nice to meet you even though we’ve met before.”

“You have?” He looks up to Beatrice.

“Yeah, when you passed out at the wall, she found us there. She called an ambulance to come get you and Greg,” Ambulance sounded like such a foreign thing for Beatrice to say, especially since she sounded out every syllable like a child learning a new word. The face she makes after- one of complete confusion- makes him have to bite back a laugh. The laughter dies away completely when Beatrice mumbles, “Though, I feel like I’ve known you longer with how much Wirt men-”

Raising his hands, then waving them, Wirt tries to signal for Beatrice to not finish that statement, “B-Beatrice, Beatrice, u-uh… We- We really don’t have to talk about any of that,” Trying to cover up his embarrassment, he lets out a laugh that comes out louder than he wanted it to. Beatrice smirks at him- a knowing glint in her eye- and he’s sure that his face is turning several shades of red. She lets the sentence die away, though, and he’s thankful for that. Though, there’s an uncomfortable moment where Beatrice keeps smirking at him- he can practically hear the taunting through the eye contact- while Sara continues to chat.

“Well, uh, it seems like you’re doing better, so…” She tiptoes back to the door, “My dad’s in the parking lot, so I should get going. But, uh… Wirt, I’ll give you a call tomorrow to see how you’re doing if that’s okay with you?”

Still absorbed with the way Beatrice glares at him, Wirt doesn’t really hear what she says, responding with a dull, ‘ Uh-huh .” But as the words ‘ Call… Tomorrow ,’register, he snaps whatever attention he had on Beatrice to her, “O-Oh, wait… Yeah, yeah, yeah. Call me tomorrow, you will. I-I mean, you’ll call me tomorrow. Wait, I didn’t mean… that you have to call me. You can- You can do whatever you want. I-I just… Yeah, uh… Yeah.”

Sara smiles, gives a final goodbye, and leaves through the door- Giving Wirt the chance to sit back and relax.

“Hm. I see what you meant about not being able to talk to Sara,” Beatrice laughs and Wirt is about to respond when another voice interrupts.

“Gregory, I’m telling you, I don’t care that you took a rock from my garden. It’s just a rock afterall,” That someone happened to be his neighbor, Mrs. Daniels, being pulled in by Greg. There’s an exasperated expression on her features that he understands as soon as Greg pulls his ‘Rock Fact’ rock from his shirt’s pocket.

“It’s not just about the rock, Old Lady Daniels. Nothing in this world comes for free and that includes rocks. That’s what you said, remember?” Greg, who keeps trying to hand the rock back to Mrs. Daniels, only stops when he notices that his brother is awake, “Oh, Wirt. You’re awake. Old Lady Daniels and I went to the cafeteria for food and I was telling her about our adventures. She doesn’t believe me, though.  Can you tell her that Jason Funderburker did actually eat a bell and that’s how we saved Lorna from the turtles?” Greg picks up his frog beside him, shaking him around in the air yet no sound comes out save for a single ribbit. That’s what Wirt was assuming he was trying to make happen, “I’ve been trying to prove it myself, but the bell doesn’t seem to be working now.”

“U-Uh…” Wirt tugs at the collar of his shirt, then looks over his shoulder to silently ask Beatrice for an answer, but she actually looks just as confused as Mrs. Daniels. Giving him an out, Mrs. Daniels quickly laughs off Greg’s comments as his childhood imagination, “What are you doing here, Mrs. Daniels?”

She finally takes the rock from Greg, tucking it away inside of her jacket pocket, “Your parents called me. Seeing as they’re out of town, they wanted me to come check on you and take you home,” She states, then as she notices Beatrice, her eyebrows furrow. Wirt notices immediately, deciding to keep up the lie from earlier.

“Oh, this is Beatrice. She’s our cousin,” The words almost jumble together with how quick they come out, but there’s no way of stopping them. Except, Wirt really wishes that he could when Mrs. Daniels becomes puzzled.

“That’s strange. Your parents never mentioned a cousin to me. Funny, you think they would’ve if they wanted me to take her home as well.”

“Th-That’s because sh-she just got here. Yeah. They, uh… Th-They weren't here when… when she got into town,” This time, Wirt doesn’t follow it up with a comment on how his response makes sense because the confused look belonging to Mrs. Daniels proves that it didn’t make much sense at all. Add another confused look as Greg looks between him and Beatrice.

“Beatrice, you were our cousin this whole time? Even when you were a bluebird?”

Wirt, having enough of coming up with bad excuses, tosses the blanket off to pull himself out of the bed, “Okay, I-I think that it’s time to-” Except, he didn’t realize just how sore his body was until his knees gave out and the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground is Beatrice’s arms wrapping around his waist. His own lay across her shoulders, taking away the distance between them save for a very small inch. He doesn’t notice at first as he mumbles out, ‘ Thanks ,’ to her. It’s only when she responds with a throaty sound and her breath hits his hair that he brings his face back up and the close proximity tightens his chest.

Wirt has to tell himself that this isn’t anything different for them, being this close. There were plenty of times where she would rest against his shoulder, his hand, his chest. The last one being once when they fell asleep in the woods after a late night of walking. Neither one of them mentioned it the next morning. He didn't after being threatened if he even said a word and she didn’t for a reason he was unsure of. Maybe it felt just as awkward for her then as it feels for him now. He doesn’t have time to think about that because Beatrice is tugging him back to his feet, making sure to keep a steady hand on his back and asks if he’s okay.

“Yeah, uh… Y-Yeah. J-Just sore is all,” He clears his throat and it’s only then that she lets go of his back. She’s about to say something else when another voice cuts through the silence.

“Let’s get you three home. It’s way past 9 o’clock and six was my bedtime.”

******************************

Wirt had to admit that when it came to the events that have happened to him and Greg over the past few days, it was nothing short of traumatizing. From believing they were going to get killed by a pumpkin cult to nearly getting killed at the hands of the Beast. None of that, however, was as terrifying as Mrs. Daniel’s driving. Especially when her right hand leaves the steering wheel, goes searching through her pant pocket, and she begins frantically scrolling on her phone that she pulls out.

“M-Mrs. Daniels, uh, wh-what are you doing?” He questions her. When her eyes are off the road only to snap back the moment she almost hits a stop sign, Wirt grips the seat below him. But it doesn’t stop her from the task as she continues surfing through her apps.

“I meant to call your parents the second we left the hospital, but I plum forgot to,” She manages to find the app she was searching for, her phone app- and begins searching for his Mom’s number. Then, she hits a curb, nearly hitting the group of people at the curb with it, and her phone goes flying behind her and into Beatrice’s lap. Who doesn’t seem to know what to do with the new device besides raising both hands and bending as far as she can get from her own lap.

“Now where did that blasted-”

Greg gasped, covering up his frog’s ears, “Mrs. Daniels, you should never swear in front of the president. Especially one that has a record contract.”

“Ah, there it is,” She states the moment Beatrice braves holding up the phone, “Good. Dear, do me a favor and give your aunt a call for me, will you?”

“My aunt?” Beatrice asks and Wirt has to nudge her to remind her of their ‘blood relation,’ “O-Oh, right. Um…” Turning the phone over several times, Beatrice accidentally hits the power button and the light illuminates her face so that Wirt is able to see the moment her expression turns to complete disbelief. Mrs. Daniels must see it, too, when she speaks up.

“Oh, that’s alright, dear. I have no idea how that thing works, either.”

Wirt plucks it from her hands to tuck away at his side, “Mrs. Daniels, I’ll give them a call when I get home. For now, let’s just focus on getting home safely and- watching out for the speed bump .”

Not hearing him until it was too late, Mrs. Daniels runs straight over the bump without slowing down and everyone in the car is thrown around. Greg laughs it off while Mrs. Daniels tries again to find her phone and Wirt has to remind her that it’s still by his side. Beatrice, however, has the reaction that Wirt focuses on the most only because it involves him and her hand gripping at his thigh. Closer to his knee, but very much touching him nonetheless. Momentarily, he loses all control of his body. Then. as he tries to regain it, he looks to her through the corner of his eye where he sees a look so intense that he’s never seen before.

“I don’t like this ambulance,” She whispers and Wirt regains his senses.

“What?”

“The ambulance we’re in.”

Wirt snickers, the hand on his thigh tightens, “This isn’t an ambulance, Beatrice. It’s a car.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well… They’re both mobile, but an ambulance is meant only for hospitals. Which we’re going to need to go back to again if Mrs. Daniels keeps driving the way she is,” He murmurs the last bit to her, earning him a soft smirk. It seems to calm her nerves and only then does she realize the grip she has on him. She’s quick to pull away, taking the smirk she had away with it. He wants to say something- anything- just to fill the sudden silence. But when he opens his mouth and the words don’t come out, he realizes that he has no idea what to say.

They pull up to their house anyway and Wirt couldn’t be happier to be out of that car. He quickly hands Mrs. Daniels her phone, making sure that she promises to not use it until she’s out from behind the steering wheel, and then he leads the three of them to the door.

Greg goes on talking to his frog, “I can’t wait to show you all of the things in my room. Mom bought me a lego set that I’m not allowed to play with unless Wirt helps me. She’s afraid that I’ll eat some of the pieces, but only because I ate some of the pieces of the last one she gave me. I couldn’t help it. The shiny pink piece looked like candy and-”

Meanwhile, Wirt scoops the spare key underneath the Welcome mat to unlock the door, flipping the living room light on. Following him in, Greg immediately darts for the stairs and to his room.

“Don’t touch those legos, Greg,” He calls out even though he’s sure it fell on deaf ears. Then, he turns to Beatrice and there's a moment where he watches her take everything in. The pictures on the wall are her focal point- a specific one of him as a baby dressed as a pumpkin for Halloween that she tries to hide her smile at.

“You should have let them bury you and bring you back,” She states, referring to Pottsfield, “You make a cute pumpkin.”

There’s an amusement to her voice, but there’s also glint in her eye. Wirt chooses to focus on the first one as he chuckles beside her, “Th-Thanks. Mom loves showing everyone that picture of me. I think it’s just embarrassing, you know?”

“I get it. My mom does some pretty embarrassing things as well,” She tells him and it looks like she’s about to give an example when that same glint from earlier turns darker. Wirt knows regret when he sees it and especially when he sees her bottom lip being chewed between her teeth and the way her shoulders slump.

“Regretting this already?” He asks and Beatrice questions him on what he means, “Coming with us.”

She thinks for a moment, then answers with a resounding, “No.”

Neither knowing what to say nor wanting to push her, he stands there, looking over her for the first time in… Well, for the first time ever. At least as a human anyway. When she steps closer to the picture, pieces of her hair move around. Dark auburn curls fall out of the makeshift bun, tickling against the sides and back of her neck. Skin that happened to be so pale save for the thousands of freckles that decorate it. She was taller than him- Only by an inch or two, but he still had to look up to her. It wasn’t something that Wirt seemed to mind, though. Given the fact that he had to whenever she flew ahead of him, he was used to it.

Wirt never pictured Beatrice looking like this. He never pictured her looking like anything except for a blue bird. Now that she’s here and now that she’s human, he can’t imagine anything other than what’s in front of him.

Looking downward, he takes note of the pale blue dress, ripped at the bottom and covered in dirt. She shivers and his attention snaps back up.

“Come on,” He nudges her, “Let’s get you some clean clothes.”

She follows him past Greg’s room where he’s hopping on the bed with his frog. When his bedroom door opens, there’s another breeze coming from the fan that he must have left on. He flips it off, then searches through his closet for some clothes in the back. When he finds what he’s looking for- a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an old band t-shirt- he motions for her to follow him to the bathroom.

“I-It’s not what you’re used to, b-but it’ll have to do for now,” He hands them to her and she nods, but doesn’t know what to do now. Looking between him and the bathroom, it hits him, “O-Oh. Uh… S-So, this is a bathroom. It’s kinda like an outhouse except indoors. Go in there and take your clothes off,” Realizing how it sounds by the scrunched up face she gives, “Wha-What I mean is… You can go in there to change. Change out of your clothes and into these. Yeah… Yeah,” He nods, twisting his hat in his hands that he forgot he was holding onto. There’s a silence that falls where he stares at her with what he assumes is the goofiest smile and she eyes him up and down.

“Uh, Wirt?”

“Yeah?”

Holding out the two pieces of clothing, Wirt realizes, “R-Right. I’ll, uh, leave you to it then. When you’re done, just… Leave your dress in- in here. I’ll deal with it in the morning. M-My room is… Is just right… There. Yeah,” Watching her long enough until the door is closed, Wirt spins back on his heels to his room where he changes his own clothes into sleep attire. It felt nice to be in clean clothes that he hasn’t been wearing for days straight, but the comfort is short lived when it suddenly hits him.

Beatrice is on his side of the wall. Beatrice is in his house. In his bathroom, heading to his room, where she’s going to see his wall full of poetry and a table that’s cluttered and Wirt is highly aware of his Battle Space pillows. Granted, Beatrice would have no clue what that is or why it’s strange for a boy at sixteen to have them, but it’s the thought alone that has him scrambling to tug them off and tossing them under his bed. Along with it, he pulls different poems that he had written to hide with the pillow cases.

“There,” He murmurs to himself, “That looks better. Much-” Behind him, there’s shuffling that he turns to and it’s then that his brain malfunctions at the sight of Beatrice, “-Better.”

The shirt had been too big for her and as she tugged uncomfortably at the sleeve’s edge, the collar slipped down, revealing part of her shoulder. Too long, it hung past her hips, but not close to her knees giving Wirt a full view of her in sweatpants. Being slightly taller, they only went above her ankles, but they were just as baggy as the shirt was. She moved from one ball of her foot to the next, proving that she felt uncomfortable.

“I-I… A-Am I wearing this right?” She asks and he’d almost say that it was cute how little she knew. However, by the way her face shifts back into aggression, he knew it better than to do that.

“Um… Y-Yeah, it looks like it. It’s weird, though.”

“Weird?” She spits out as she glares at him. If her stares had been daggers, he would be bleeding out.

“N-Not bad weird. It’s just weird. I guess I’m not used to seeing you in clothes like this,” Wirt leaves the weird part out. The one about how he went from seeing her as a bird, to seeing her as human, to now getting a full view of her wearing his clothes. It has been a long day as it is. There’s no need in adding that into the mix, “Did you leave your dress in the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I left it by that big… Barrel in the wall,” She states and Wirt’s eyebrow raises, “Y-You know, it has that giant water spout at the top.”

“You mean the shower,” Wirt laughs.

“I guess.”

“It’s a shower. You bathe in it. You can take one tomorrow if you want to. It might help you feel better.”

“Better? I feel fine,” She says, but the red creeping its way to her cheeks says otherwise, “I should be saying that about you. You’re the one injured, you know.”

He touches the spot where a bandage wraps around his arm. It feels numb under his touch, so he doesn’t bother responding and motions to the bed behind him, “So, this is where you’ll be sleeping tonight. I’d offer you the guest room, but my mom likes to throw the junk we’re not using in there.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” She asks as she looks at the bed, then back at him.

“The living room couch. It’s really the only opt-

“ Sleepover ?” Greg’s sudden voice startles them and Beatrice backs away from the door to Wirt’s side, “Are you guys going to have a sleepover without me and Jason Funderburker?”

“N-No, Greg. This isn’t a sleepover. Beatrice is sleeping in here and I’m going to-”

“We should all sleep in here tonight. That’s a great idea, Wirt,” Greg crawls into the bed to cuddle up into the pillow closest to the wall.

“No, that’s not- W-We’re not-”

“Can we have waffles for breakfast?” He asks Wirt, then looks at Beatrice, “Wirt makes really good waffles. Not as good as Mom, but they’re good. I know you don’t like them, but you have to promise to try them.”

Beatrice shuffles from beside Wirt to the edge of the bed where she sits, “I promise I’ll try them.”

“Pinky promise?” Holding out his pinky, Beatrice looks over it in confusion, “It’s a pinky promise. It’s the highest form of a promise that can’t be broken for any reason. And if it is, then it’s treason.”

She chuckles, then hooks their pinkies together, “I pinky promise that I’ll try the waffles.”

“Good. Now, let's get some sleep,” Greg, without another word, turns toward the wall to sleep. Beatrice gives a final shrug to Wirt before laying beside him. Unsure of what to do, Wirt slides the chair by his table to the edge of the bed- Far enough away to keep a distance between them, but close enough that he sees the way Beatrice’s eyelids flutter when she falls asleep.

Chapter Text

At the sound of a bird chirping, Beatrice stirs in her sleep. Opening her eyes only slightly, there’s a throbbing pain behind them. So, she closes them back and decides that more sleep is the perfect remedy for a headache. Except, the chirping- followed by pecking- keeps her from that. She pulls a pillow over her head.

“Mooooom, please stop. I just need five more minutes, okay?” She whines and readies herself for a scolding by her mom about how girls her age shouldn’t be sleeping the day away. When that doesn’t happen and the pecking begins to sound like it’s against glass, Beatrice finally sits up, “Mom, I said-” The words stop when instead of seeing her mom, she’s met with the sight of a bird outside of a window flying close by a hanging object and pecking at what looks like seeds. When it spots her watching it, there’s a few more pecks before it flies away for good. When the bird is gone, Beatrice realizes that the space beside her and the chair next to the bed were both empty and she was alone in an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar world where the only two people she knows were nowhere to be found. Briefly, she has to wonder if she’s still dreaming and everything that’s happened is part of some sort of cold induced nightmare from being out in the snow for too long. There’s a red hat sitting on a shelf inside of the closet and a blue cloak hanging on the door handle and she knows that it wasn’t a dream.

Maybe, though, it’d be easier if it was.

Maybe it’d be easier if all of this had been a dream.

The Beast, the blue bird, the curse- Wirt and Greg .

You couldn't feel guilt when the thing causing it never happened, right?

She tries to focus on that. A world where she never threw a rock at a bluebird and her family was still human and together . She’d be at home with her family. Her mom would be making breakfast while her dad tried to help any way he could before her mom told him to not worry about it. He was never good with cooking anyway. Her younger siblings would be running around the house- ‘ You kids better stop all of that ruckus or you won’t be getting any breakfast. ’ A threat she knew her mom wouldn’t keep, just used as a way to get them to settle down. It worked only half of the time.

Beatrice misses that. Beatrice wants that. A want so strong that she forgot what she was even doing here- If she made the right decision leaving the scissors with them, then running.

‘Regretting this already?’

‘Coming with us?’

Maybe… Maybe she was. Maybe she shouldn’t have-

‘ She said she’d be back .’

What if they had found her before she climbed that wall? Would she still have gone with Wirt? Would she be here in his room, in his bed, in his clothes ? Would she have actually said that sappy speech about how she wanted to be with him, but needed to be with her family? Then, she’d leave with them, snip their wings and they’d be whole again. Whole again , save for the small piece of her heart that would be broken because-

“ Shut up ,” She tells her mind when it becomes too much and the headache only grows with all of this thinking. The numbers on the small box beside the bed that she decides is a clock reads out 5:48 and the sun hasn’t risen yet, so she thinks that she’d have more time to sleep. Only instead of doing that, she’s stuck glaring at the clock until 5:48 turns to 5:49 turns to 5:50 and she feels like she’s losing it. She turns over to face the wall and a crumpled up piece of paper is sitting on the pillow.

When you wake up, meet me on the roof . There’s a ladder at the end of the hallway, so just climb up. I’ll be waiting.

P.S. Don’t worry about Greg. I took him back to his room to sleep.

Beatrice wastes no time in leaving the empty room and she finds the hallway is dark, so she only barely makes it up the ladder without tripping, but when she does, she finds Wirt fiddling with an edge of the blanket he’s sitting on. Beside him is another blanket that he begins unfolding when she speaks.

“You’ve actually lost your mind this time, haven’t you?” It’s a question that he startles at- Nearly tumbling off of the roof, “Why are you out here? Better yet, why am I out here? The sun isn’t even out yet.”

“What? You’ve never watched the sunrise on top of a roof?” He asks and the way he words it makes it sound like the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. She has to scoff at the look he’s giving her, but she still makes her way over to him, “It’s not that bad. This is the best time to come up here anyway because Greg is up by at least 7 every morning and if you think he’s hyper, wait until he’s had breakfast. Plus, I brought a blanket for you to use,” He holds it up as proof, setting it down in her lap, and she unfolds it to wrap around her body. It only helped a little bit because she was still wearing a too baggy shirt and pants that stopped above her ankles.

The air is freezing, she really wants to mention that. Something along the lines of how they could’ve done this later in the day when it wasn’t as cold and it wasn’t six in the morning. Maybe Wirt already knew that because he then hands her a mug that she almost burns her fingers on. The warmth is appreciated.

“See? I thought of everything,” He nudges her side, which she fights the urge to hit him for.

“Yeah, okay,” She sips the coffee, “Also, it would’ve been nice to know how awful your bed is to sleep in. My back is killing me now and I’m blaming you for that.”

“That’s not exactly fair. I slept on a chair the whole night. Every part of my body is hurting.”

“If I remember correctly, ‘This is where you’ll be sleeping tonight,’ were your exact words when you gave me your bed to sleep in. Was not my idea,” She retorts, “But I can see why you’d be sore seeing as you’re injured,” Between them, Wirt brings his arm up. The bandage was peeling at the ends indicating that it was time for a fresh one- A comment she’s about to make when Wirt tucks his arm back at his side and she can tell that it’s not something he wants to talk about, so she doesn’t.

Instead, Beatrice gives a final look over Wirt’s features- Mostly the purple colored bags under his eyes- Then, looks to the sunrise in front of them. It had been some time since Beatrice really paid attention to the sunrise, the last time being a few days before she had cursed her family into blue birds. Her dad had asked her to help him chop wood down to start a fire at home because it was cold back then like it is now.

When her dad found a good spot for wood, he laid his ax against a tree. When she asked what he was doing, ‘ You think I came out here just to cut wood down ?’ He chuckled like it had been a joke. He pointed out that this was the best spot to watch, which was something that he did as often as he could, ‘ The autumn is the best time for a sunrise .’

She asked him why that was, but she can’t remember exactly what he said.

And maybe that’s what brings the guilty feeling back.

She can hardly remember the last moment she had with her dad.

She can hardly remember any moment she had with her family.

The last being leaving them alone with a pair of scissors and no real answer to why she did it. How could she, honestly, explain to them that the only reason she couldn’t stay with them is because she’d rather have left with two boys she barely knew? She could practically hear her mom’s cries now with the only real way to drown it out being Wirt’s sudden comment.

“I come out here often,” He tells her, “When I want to escape something. It’s easy to get lost up here, you know? Whether it’s Greg’s persistence to play around with him or something embarrassing that I’ve done.”

“You, doing something embarrassing? Never,” She jokes, but it’s only to chase away the guilt building up. She wonders if he can sense that she’s feeling that way because he doesn’t respond to her remark. Instead, he shifts closer to her side, slipping into the blanket with her so that their elbows and knees are knocking against each other, and the blanket is hanging over their shoulders. She thinks about protesting and telling him that it’s time to go back inside, but she doesn’t. It’s terrible, yeah, because of the weather, but something warm spreads in her chest that fights that off, “What are you trying to escape this time?” She imagines that it’d be everything that’s happened over the past few days. When Wirt answers saying that there wasn’t anything this time, she’s surprised, “So, you woke up before the sun was even up to sit on a cold roof… For nothing?”

“Not for nothing. I wanted to show you the sunrise and that’s why we’re out here. I thought… Y-You know, with everything that’s gone on, it’d be nice to have a peaceful moment together.”

When the sentence ends there, she catches him staring at her through the corner of her eye. Maybe out of pure curiosity, she stares back. Except, she gets lost in whatever emotion Wirt is causing. He was good at that, tugging out different emotions from her. Mostly ranging from annoyance to anger and any other that came with those two. However, he was also good at making her feel emotions she’s never felt previously.

Admiration.

Appreciation.

And somehow in this very moment… Affection.

When the idea of that crosses her mind, she has to quickly shove it to the back of her brain where she’s also trying to hide any trace of guilt over her family. It’s not easy to do when his eyes stay on her, but she manages by letting out a cough that triggers an emotion of his own out- Flustered.

“S-Sorry, Um, sorry. I-I-I…” He clears his throat, but it doesn’t seem to settle his nerves. Which then makes her feel nervous and that’s something she refuses to feel this early in the morning. With the blanket still wrapped around their shoulders, she finds the middle of his stomach- An action that earns a flushed look from her friend- and pushes them backward until they’re laying down. It hurts at first given that they’re resting on top of a roof, but Beatrice maneuvers to a more comfortable position that brings them closer and she can just about feel his heartbeat going crazy.

Or maybe that’s hers and she can’t tell the difference.

“There. If we’re going to spend some bonding time together, might as well be comfortable, right?”

Wirt moves around to find his own comfortable spot, which apparently meant resting his hand against hers. Absent-mindedly, her pinky twitches, fighting the weird urge to wrap around his, “I… Guess so. Yeah, this does feel… A bit more comfortable. Yep, t-totally not weird at all. Yeah.”

“Hey, Wirt, you don't have to say the quiet part out loud, you know? Like yesterday when you nearly gave your genius plan up about us being cousins by saying how it made sense,” His face scrunches up in a way that she has to snicker at.

“ I was kinda put on the spot . I wasn’t in control of what I was saying.”

“Yeah? What’s your excuse for every other time you say something stupid?”

He huffs and rubs his eyes with his free hand, “I-It’s not like you were helping me out.”

“Hey, nuh-uh. Sara is your girlfriend.”

“Sh-She’s not… No .”

“Fine, sorry, wannabe girlfriend. Either way, I didn’t know what to tell her, either.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t have to tell her that I recite poetry in my sleep. Nor did you have to tell her that I talked about her. Beatrice, seriously, that was so embarrassing.”

“Okay, yeah, sorry about that. You’re just so easy to frustrate,” She pokes her finger against his cheek that he swats away, “Right now for example. You’re blushing so hard just by the thought of Sara..”

“I am not. It’s just really cold out here.”

“ It was your idea to drag me out here. We could’ve had this conversation at any other time, but noooo . You wanted to get frostbite on our first night together and-” Okay, so, she knows how it sounds when it’s said out loud, but that’s not at all how she meant for it to come out. Not in the slightest bit. So, why is Wirt’s eyes suddenly getting wider and why is her heart beating faster and why is she just now realizing that her pinky did in fact wrap around his and- oh, my god , ‘I-I mean that, um… I-It’s the first night that I’m sleeping with- sleeping at -” She hates that he’s wearing off on her so much that she’s starting to stutter like he does. She doesn’t even feel like she’s in control of her own voice.

Can he just stop staring at her like that ?

He inhales, “B-Beatrice,” Then, he exhales, “Are you cold?”

She shakes her head before she can find her voice, “N-No, why?”

“Your face is red right now,” His hand on his chest twitches, like he’s about to prove a point by touching her cheek, “Like, really red.”

“Is it?” She touches her cheek to see if it feels warm, but then again, her entire body feels warm, so how could she tell anyway? Trying to hide away from him, Beatrice looks back up to the sky where the colors have gotten brighter and the sun has definitely already risen. She’s about to tell him that it’s time to go back in when he interrupts that.

“Now look who’s easy to frustrate,” He jokes, but his finger tightens around hers making her wonder if he even knows about it.

“Still you. Don’t let this one time make you think that this is going to be a constant occurrence,” She warns him, then he tangles all of their fingers, holding her hand and if he doesn’t stop doing that , “Wirt you can be such a-”

“Wirt, are you on the roof again? Jason Funderburker and I are hungry.” Behind them, Greg’s voice calls from where the ladder sits. The sudden third party causes the both of them to shoot up from their laying positions and the blanket falls off completely. It’s still cold, but Beatrice doesn’t feel much of a chill. Well, not until Wirt finally notices their tangled hands and pulls away from her, several apologies at once as he jolts up into a stance that looks like he’s about to run from her. Only, he doesn’t and as Greg calls out again asking if she’s out there with him, Wirt holds out a hand for her to take.

“Y-Yeah, Gr-Greg, we’re out here. Just- Just hold on a minute and I’ll make you some breakfast, okay?” When she’s up, he pulls both blankets in his arms, then tries to get the coffee up as well when she bends down to take it, “Th-Thanks. I don’t think I could’ve-”

“Yeah, obviously, you have your hands full with… Everything else,” She smirks and he cracks a smile at it. Motioning as best as he can for her to go down the ladder first, she leaves whatever feelings she was having on the roof.

At least, she tries to.