Chapter 6: Decisions and Choices Galore

"Is the weird guy have to leave?" one of Beatrice's younger brothers asked curiously, standing near the table and pointing at Wirt. "'Cause Beatrice is mad and he gots slapped by her."

"Thomas, you know better than to point fingers at guests," Beatrice's mother admonished, just beginning to clear the table of dirty plates. She seemed to be the only one who actually wanted Wirt around, and even then it was just out of civic duty. Wirt sighed quietly, downcast. If he were alone, this would've been a great time for poetry.

"But he's weird!" little brown-haired Thomas cried out, increasing the intensity of his pointing. The five year-old even tugged on Wirt's cape a little. "And he's got weird blanket on him!"

"Thomas!" his mother reprimanded firmly, frowning. "Leave him alone and go to your room!"

"I can't, Ma," he protested. "Nancy locked me out earlier so she can play all lonely!" The boy crossed his arms, tearing up. "All lonely, Ma! All lonely!" Without waiting for a reaction, Thomas ran away in the direction of the first-floor hallway, bawling loudly.

Beatrice's mother's frown deepened. "There is no order in this household, sometimes."

Wirt didn't have anything to add. He was just . . . not feeling himself today. The woman took the plates to be washed in the kitchen, leaving the gnome-costumed boy sitting at the table. Even Beatrice's father had already left, obviously not wanting to associate with the unwanted teen. The children had gotten bored of him long ago.

Beatrice, why do you want me to go? Wirt sulked, his vision cloudy. What have I done to deserve this? Aren't we friends? Or is that all over now that you're human? The distraught being pondered, feeling lost. Had Beatrice used him all along? Was she even concerned of his safety? All he knew was that she had some inexplainable need for him to leave the Unknown. Perhaps she has something to hide that she doesn't want me to find out about. Or maybe she doesn't feel any need to have me around anymore. Maybe all those times she teased me were hints so I would get out of her life. Perchance he simply misunderstood her actions and was reading too much into the situation. He didn't have any way to know.

"The world is a mysterious place," a female voice echoed behind him, too young to be Beatrice's. "If you try too hard to figure it out, you'll just ruin yourself."

Figuring that the statement was directed at him, Wirt turned around to see a girl with dark mahogany hair cut to the shoulders. She had a childish face of around twelve years of age and small freckles dotted her cheeks. He recognized her from dinner, although he never received her name.

Wirt searched for a good reply, but his mind was plagued with his unanswered questions, a whirlpool trapping him from the surface. In the end, all he could think to say was, "I know."

"Do you really?" the girl interrogated him, her eyes peering into his very soul. "If so, then why do you drown in your sorrows? Why do you dwell on the past? Can you tell me that?"

Wirt blinked, caught off-guard. She was awfully perceptive for someone so inexperienced.

The brunette gave him a knowing smile, dipping her head in acknowledgement. "I'd think not," she affirmed, pulling up a chair to sit beside Wirt. "But that doesn't mean you should give up. You have so much ahead of you in your life. Beatrice shouldn't be the one to decide that for you."

"You think I should stay?" he asked, wide-eyed. "I thought nobody wanted me here."

"Oh, they don't, but that doesn't mean it can't change. From what it seems, you've taken good care of your brother and his frog, so you've got to be someone we could look up to eventually," she explained matter-of-factly.

"Wait. You've seen Greg?" Wirt responded, completely taken by her advice. "Is he awake?"

"Oh, no he's not," she replied with a shake of her head. "I just overheard him in his sleep saying something about how much he loves you. It was adorable, really. He has a tiny voice."

The older brother chuckled softly, finding her comment to be amusing. I'm glad Gregory is okay, Wirt smiled, his eyes distant. He felt suddenly inclined to continue on home for his brother, despite his injuries and the weather. Wirt promised that he would take Greg back to their familiar abode and that was just what he would do.

"Yeah, um, I can't stay here. At least, not long. Greg needs to go home and I don't think me being around will help anyone. I mean, anyone besides me. And Greg," the costumed teen explained, trying to stand with relative difficulty. It still hurt to move. A lot.

"You could at least stay until you're well again," she protested, standing from her seat abruptly. "There isn't much of a chance that you'll make it when you're this vulnerable."

Wirt studied the girl's face, contemplating the possibility. Was there really a chance that he could live here for a while? Or was she only trying to be polite? He decided on the former, not wanting his pessimistic nature to ruin the likelihood of receiving the favorable conditions him and his brother really needed.

"Mmm . . ." The brown-haired teen's brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Maybe. Maybe I could, but you'll have to get Beatrice to agree to it. I don't want to be a burden if I don't have to."

The twelve year-old's eyes widened. "But I thought I told you that —"

"Beatrice has to agree to our staying here. It isn't good for either of us to be where we aren't wanted," he cut her off firmly, set on the decision. "Okay, uh . . ."

"Polly."

"Yeah," Wirt smiled with a nod, placing the name in his memory so he wouldn't forget. "Okay, Polly?"

"Alright then, . . ."

"Wirt."

Polly grinned as well, her eyes flashing with concession. "Alright, Wirt."

o-o-o-o

Wirt found himself alone in front of a gray wooden door, staring at it with an expression somewhere between doubtful and determined. His entire body hurt from walking up the steps unassisted, and he was still not completely sure of what he would say once he knocked.

I'm not even sure this is the right door. The teen frowned, considering the dreaded trek back down in favor of a confirmation by Polly or even Beatrice's mom. But then I'll have to come all the way back up . . . He cringed. It was better to take his chances with a wrong door.

Taking a deep breath to gather what was left of his courage, Wirt tapped his knuckles against the wood, producing a loud enough noise that anyone inside could hear.

"Uh, it's me: Wirt," he announced, waiting for a reaction.

It was silent for a moment, then, "I told you to leave." Beatrice.

Wirt nearly sighed in relief, but thought to keep himself at the task at hand. "Yeah, well, I talked to your sister and she said it would be best if I stayed for a while. I think so too."

"Who told you that? Was it Amanda? It was Amanda, wasn't it?" her voice sounded agitated from Wirt's side of the hall.

"Amanda?" he questioned, not knowing which of her four sisters she was talking about. "No, Polly told me after dinner. She was pretty convinced of it, too."

"Polly?!" Beatrice cried out loudly, "That's worse!" There was a hard thump from her side of the door, followed by a series of 'ow's.

She probably kicked the wall or something, he observed, glad that there was a barrier between them for the first time since the conversation began. I wonder what makes her so rough and rowdy. She has sisters, after all. It was one of the mysteries of the world. Most likely one of which that Polly advised him not to dwell on. So like the obedient little pushover he was, Wirt threw the thought aside, attempting once again not to get distracted.

"Y-you okay?" Wirt asked awkwardly, confused.

"No way am I okay! Polly's been filling your head with her nonsense! That girl is a manipulator and self-centered daydreamer! She's just trying to make everything worse!" came the angered reply.

Wirt took a step back in shock. "Polly's just trying to help, Beatrice. Plus, she's your sister. You should care about her."

"Polly's not trying to help you or Gregory, Wirt!" the former bluebird growled. "The only one who has been helping you is me!"

What? The teen paused, the words sounding like a lie. All Beatrice did was bat him away, shoo him like he was an annoying fly buzzing around her ears. Now she was claiming to have helped him?

"No, Beatrice. You haven't been helping me at all." he murmured, his eyes dark, plastered on the hard surface in front of him as if it were her standing there instead. "You keep telling me these things, but you never explain. You tell me that Adelaide is going to help us get home, but you never told me who she was. You say you were human, but you wait until our last moments before you did. You took us out of our way to go on some quest to our impending doom without letting us have a choice. So if anyone is the self-centered manipulator, it's you."

Beatrice let out a choked whimper, "You don't understand, Wirt. You never understand until it's too late."

Wirt felt as if his insides were being crushed, guilt playing its way into his tough comeback. But he wouldn't back down.

"I can't take Greg home until I'm well, Beatrice."

It was the straw that broke the bluebird's back. "Fine, Wirt," she answered, her voice soft and broken. "You can have your way. Just leave me alone and go to your room."

He did.

Oh wow, don't I just love happy endings? XD Hope y'all enjoyed. Please leave a review for me to read! This could have been written much quicker if I'd had reviews to keep me going. But alas . . . I had none. Change that for me? :3