A/N (02/06/13): Heys guys this chapter was been revised and edited with the AMAZING help from Shizuku Tsukishima749! So kudos to her! Thanks again =)
"Like I said," Hansel muttered, staring down at the dead body of the witch, "the only good witch is a dead one."
He continued to glower for several seconds, squinting as if searching for something, and then lifted his eyes to the destruction about the rest of the cottage. He was trying to focus on something, on anything, but he was failing miserably.
"Hansel, are you alright?" Gretel asked. When he didn't answer, she repeated the question with more force, but once again received no answer.
Then, finally, after about thirty seconds of dead silence apart from her brother's labored breathing, Hansel replied breathlessly, "Gret...I don't feel…—"
He was cut off as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he crashed to the floor in a crumpled heap.
"Hansel!" Gretel screamed, rushing to her brother's side.
At that moment, Ben and Edward rushed in, busting the door and part of its frame. They'd abandoned their lookout posts the moment they'd heard Gretel cry. Ben's eyes widened. "What the hell happened?"
"I don't know," the young woman admitted tersely. Frustrated and worried, she'd already rolled Hansel onto his back and was checking his vitals one-by-one. He was still breathing, and his heart was still pumping: two good signs if she'd ever known them. This in mind, she began tapping his cheeks lightly with her fingertips, hoping the pressure would rouse him; seconds later, she stopped. Hansel stared up at her, concentrating on her face as best he could with his still-bleary gray-blue eyes. She hung her head with a relieved sigh and returned his gaze, a loving smile bringing color back to her frightened-pale face. "Hey, idiot. How do you feel?"
"Gret…what...hell hap'nd…?" he asked weakly, slurring his words more than a little.
"You passed out."
He blinked owlishly, processed the information very slowly, and then told her, "I think…something's wrong…with injections... Tightness in…chest…fucking killer headache… Don't know…what…to do, Gretel..."
Her expression softened further, and she reached out with one hand to stroke his hair. "We'll figure it out. Together, like we always do." When he was calm, nearly half-asleep under her ministrations, she turned to Ben. "Find the book of spells Mina used to enchant the weapons. Look for anything having to do with the Sweet Sickness." Ben nodded and turned to sprint toward town. Now it was Edward's turn. "I need you to fill the canteens at the Healing Waters, and get back here as soon as you can. It might be our only hope." If the book fails…
"Okay," he mumbled, stomping into the depths of the forest as mindfully as possible.
With nothing else to do but wait and hope, Gretel returned her attention to her brother and immediately regretted it. There was a flush to his skin that hadn't been there moments ago, and his breathing had turned deep and ragged.
To keep from thinking panicked thoughts, she rolled their bedrolls out on the floor. "Let's get you more comfortable, brother."
