Author's Note: just a quick note. I also post this fic to my Ao3 account (link in my profile) and, because ffnet has to be a difficult baby it won't let me post links in my work to things that sometimes pertain to this story unlike Ao3. Anyway, just in case any of you wanted to read over there instead. Thanks for your support. If I didn't respond to your review in the last chapter I'm sorry. I got distracted this week, but I do appreciate all of them.


It was just beginning to snow when Wirt finally stopped in front of a house that was part of a long line of houses all grouped together in a little community of homes. Each looked very similar to the next and when Beatrice commented on this, Wirt replied with chagrin in his voice, "Welcome to the suburbs." He then walked up to a door on one of the houses and opened it to reveal a room that contained two cars. Beatrice knew they were cars, because she had asked Wirt right away, but when she began inquiring about other things in the room that looked unfamiliar- and there were a lot, Wirt didn't respond. Instead he slowly slumped to his knees and groaned.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Not so much." Wirt's voice was strained.

"I told you not to carry me. Now look at you," Beatrice lectured, but when Wirt replied with a soft noise of pain, she shut her mouth and instantly pushed herself off of him. Her only thought was of elevating the weight from his back as fast as possible and not of what would happen afterward. As a result she fell hard to the ground. It hurt, but Beatrice tried to keep the pain to herself, not wanting to give Wirt any reason to feel guilty. He had done so much for her already. Unfortunately she wasn't able to suppress the whimper that worked its way through her vocal chords and Wirt heard.

"Oh sorry, I should have help-" He turned around to look at her while speaking, but his sentence was cut short when his movement provoked another groan.

Beatrice grimaced, but Wirt tried to reassure her. "No, I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she softly laughed. "You look as awful as you sound, but," Beatrice paused to glance down at herself, "I'm sure I'm not much better. I think we're both broken."

Wirt shrugged. "I'll be fine. I'm just exhausted. When we finally got here it was like all the adrenaline rushed out of my body. You though, I'm not sure how bad you are. I'll have to help you into the house, but you're going to have to hide from my parents and probably Greg too. I doubt he'd be able to keep quiet if he saw you."

Beatrice sent him a tiny frown. "It would be nice to see him, though."

"Maybe later," Wirt offered. "After I've had time to drill it into his head that he can't say a word about you. You know how he is."

"Oh yeah, I remember. All childish enthusiasm without any ability to reel it in." Beatrice made a comical face like Greg's character traits were the worst thing she had ever heard of and Wirt laughed. It was a nice feeling, being able to pull that response from him, and Beatrice felt a small smile of satisfaction tug at the corners of her mouth.

"That was probably the best description I've ever heard of Greg," Wirt complimented and Beatrice shined under his approval.

But when Wirt made a move like he was going to try and stand, Beatrice impulsively said, "Wirt, am I really something that needs to be kept hidden from everyone?" She knew it was a dumb question, but still asked anyway. Emotions were dictating her words and she didn't like it. She didn't like that Wirt wanting to hide her from others made them hurt.

A mixture of expressions traveled over Wirt's face too fast for Beatrice to recognize, but eventually he settled on one she had seen from him many times before … exasperation. "It's not like that. I can't have you be seen right now, because magic isn't the same over here like it is for you and telling my parents you're my friend who came from another world where humans can be cursed into birds, horses talk, and beasts … well, you know. They wouldn't understand. They'd probably send me to a psych hospital and give you to Child Protective Services once they found out you technically don't exist over here. Not to mention my parents definitely wouldn't like that I wanted you to stay overnight, because you're too injured to try and climb back into your world. I just turned 16. I can't do that. My mom would kill me a-and your dress … girls here don't dress like that here. How can I explain that away? You just came from playing Juliet in a school play?"

Wirt was getting worked up and Beatrice placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. It worked. Her touched shocked him back into reality and away from all the anxieties inside his head. "You're right. That was a stupid question. I'm the fish out of water here, so I just need to do what you tell me to. I get it."

He sighed and ran a hand through his already mussed up hair. "Sorry. I think I'm just tired. Carrying you wore me out. But believe me, if I could tell everyone about you I would. You're not a secret I want to keep. Just one I have to have right now. I'll work it out, okay? It's not forever." Wirt's eyes moved over to the hand Beatrice had placed on his shoulder. It was the one with the scraped knuckles. When she saw him looking at it, Beatrice quickly hid the injury behind her back. "I have to go inside. Stay here until I come back for you," he instructed.

"It's not like I'm all that mobile anyway," Beatrice replied indicating her ankle, which they both had decided on the walk over there was probably twisted.

"Okay, well then don't punch anything while I'm gone," Wirt teased.

Beatrice scowled and he smiled back, which only made her look of irritation deepen. "Maybe I'll just punch you when you get back," she tried to look serious, but couldn't keep a straight face and they both fell into a soft comfortable laughter together.

"I'll be back," Wirt told her as he stood with a groan and then walked through a different door other than the one they had come through together.

"I'll be here," Beatrice replied quietly, but Wirt was already gone and for the first time since her fall from the wall, she was alone. Wirt wasn't there occupying her time and she had a moment to think about something other than the weird happiness that had swallowed her up in his presence, trapping her in a haze of delirium.

Beatrice tried to shake that feeling and look at things from the perspective of someone not lost in their emotions. She was in another world, away from her family and away from everything familiar, everything, except Wirt and Greg. Not only that, she was hurt and solely dependent on one person for help. She should have been worried or at least a little bit anxious about this new unknown, but oddly wasn't. Her happiness wanted to keep her trapped in a world of denial. There is nothing to worry about, because you're with Wirt now - it whispered to her and Beatrice didn't try and oppose its claim. Everything was fine now and she was happy after having been very unhappy. That was all there was to think about. Wirt made her happy. The End.

It took Wirt a little while to come back and while Beatrice waited, her eyes searched out all the unfamiliar objects around her. To pass the time she tried to find counterparts from her world to match. She had already decided that where she was now was some sort of barn. Wirt had told her cars were used for transportation like horses and that was where the barn theory came from. Beatrice settle upon a few more conclusions for other items. The rake was easy, because she had those over on her side of the wall, but one thing with a long and large handle had her stumped. Luckily Wirt came back just as she was working it over in her brain. She turned her head towards him as he entered the room and opened her mouth to ask about it, but Wirt spoke first. "Okay, change of plan. We have to move fast. Greg is going to distract my parents, so I can get you into my room, but we have to go now."

"I thought we weren't going to tell Greg."

"Like I said, change of plan. Now hop on my back again." He crouched down with his back to her, but Beatrice shook her head.

"I can't. I'll hurt you even more," she protested.

"Beatrice, you promised to do what I said." Wirt's voice was exasperated again.

"Yeah, sorry," she apologized and grasped Wirt's hand that he had extended out behind him for her to take. Her heart did a little jump as he yanked her unceremoniously onto his back and then proceeded to stand without so much as a groan. Beatrice assumed his adrenaline must have kicked in again. Without asking if she was set, Wirt took off through the door and Beatrice buried her face into the back of his shirt, keeping her eyes closed until she knew it was all over. That happened when Wirt collapsed onto the ground and she went down along with him. They both made noises like they were in pain, but that only made them laugh and Beatrice rolled over onto her side to look at him. "I'm tired of riding your back. Next time we take the car."

"You wouldn't bring a horse into a house would you? Same thing goes for cars," Wirt snorted.

"Actually, I think we did just that before didn't we? Over on my side. Brought a horse into a house," Beatrice reminded him.

"Heh, I suppose you're right," Wirt replied and bringing himself up to his knees, he reached out for Beatrice's hand. She couldn't offer him her twisted wrist, so she held out the one with the damaged knuckles. Wirt didn't say anything about them though as he delicately wrapped her arm around his neck and stood, taking Beatrice along with him. Then she hopped on one foot as he walked her over to a bed to sit.

"Where are we?" she asked, but had already come to the conclusion that it was probably Wirt's bedroom and he replied with an answer that told Beatrice she was correct. It was the pile of cassette tapes in one corner that had been the first clue for her, but she also saw other things that reminded her of him, namely the outfit he had worn while on her side of the wall. The cape was hung inside a closet and the tall hat was stuffed on a shelf above it.

"Here, let me take your boots and coat," Beatrice heard Writ say, bringing her attention back to him.

"Oh yeah, guess I forgot they were still on," she absently replied.

Kneeling down, Wirt pulled one of Beatrice's boots off and then took care to be gentle with the other, not wanting to aggravate her twisted ankle. Once that was done, he stood again and began unbuttoning the front of her coat. If not for her injured wrist, Beatrice would have tried to accomplish the unbuttoning herself, because it unfortunatley caused an awkward moment to pass between them when she noticed and then tried to ignore the blush on Wirt's face. His hands were also having a little bit of trouble performing a task that should have been easy, but wasn't due to trembling fingers. She didn't know why he was being such a nerd about it, but at the same time had to admit that if there was a mirror nearby, she would have probably seen her cheeks glowing red too.

When Wirt had finally finished, Beatrice shrugged out of her coat for him to take, but as she did, the envelope that had been stashed inside one of its pockets fell to the ground. She didn't notice, but Wirt did when he came back from hanging her coat up. "Is this yours?" he asked, but then reading his name across the front Wirt added, "Oh wait, it's for me. From you?"

Beatrice felt a shock of panic run through her body. "No, it's not ready. I was going to leave it at the wall, but changed my mind. Please, don't read it."

Wirt's brow furrowed. "Looks like you got some blood on it," he replied, but then handed it back to her. Beatrice let out a nearly inaudible sigh as she shoved the letter down the front of her dress, thankful he hadn't inquired further. Writing Wirt that letter, intending it to be his Christmas gift, was one thing when she thought there was no chance of ever seeing him again, but it was a very different situation when he was standing right in front of her. Beatrice didn't think she could handle his reaction to it, whether it was positive or negative. At least not now.

"I'll go get the first aid kit from the bathroom. Stay here," Wirt said, seeming to have forgotten about Beatrice's letter.

She sent him a look of disbelief. "What? Do you mean I can't go walking around your house on my injured ankle, saying hello to your parents, because that's exactly what I was planning on doing."

Wirt looked like he was bothered with her response, but then his lips curled into a small grin. With that smile still on his face, he walked towards his door and reached out to open it. Only before he could follow through with that action, it hit him in the face. "Ahhh," he yelled in surprise.

"Oh, hi Wirt. Did I hit you with the door? You shouldn't stand in front of doors. That's what mom always tells me. She says, 'Greg one day you'll get hit in the face with a door if you keep standing in front of them like that'. Oh, hi Beatrice. Wirt said you were hurt, so I brought the first aid kit for you. Mom and Dad use this all the time when I hurt myself. I do that a lot. So, I know how to fix you."

"Greg!" Wirt shut the door behind his brother, anger written all over his face. "I told you to stay out until the coast was clear and I came to get you. You're going to ruin everything." He threw his hands up in the air expressing his frustration.

Greg was already sitting on the bed next to Beatrice, sifting through the box of bandages. "I'm sorry," he said. "But you said Beatrice was hurt. I wanted to help."

Wirt rubbed his nose absently and Beatrice saw a drop of blood beginning to trickle down from one of his nostrils. "Wirt, it's okay. Let's just give him some attention to keep him happy. Besides this is exactly what you said would happen if you told him. Why are you so surprised? Now here," she held out a piece of gauze, "your nose is bleeding." He took it from her and stuffed his bloody nostril shut. "Why did you tell him?" Beatrice asked as Wirt sat down beside her.

"Because," he sighed, "I was thinking of what you told me about your brother Henry. I needed to direct my parents' attention away from the stairway and the only thing that came to me was your stories of how Henry helped you out. Greg was that distraction for us."

Beatrice didn't say anything in reply. His mention of Henry had caused a little ache in her chest to throb. It was the first emotion other than happiness that she had felt since falling into Wirt's world.

"Greg, you're doing it all wrong. You can't just put a band aid on her hand and have that be it," Wirt complained and it was enough to jolt Beatrice away from the guilt she was experiencing.

"I know what I'm doing. Mom taught me," Greg replied in his always cheerful manner, but then added, "Oops," as the box of band aids he was holding spilled onto the floor. Wirt responded with a loud sigh that sounded like he thought it was the worst thing in the world that could have happened.

Beatrice was about to open her mouth to tell them both to stop fighting over her when suddenly a soft knock on the door silenced the arguing brothers. Wirt made a strangled noise of worry and before she knew what was happening her body was quickly being shoved underneath the blankets of Wirt's bed. "Lay down," he whispered, urgency in his tone and Beatrice did as she was told. There was some quick movements from Wirt and Greg outside of the blankets and then she heard the door creak open.

"Dinner's ready," a soft feminine voice said.

"Okay," Wirt and Greg responded in perfect unison.

A few seconds of silence transpired and then the voice asked, "What are you two up to?"

"Uh, n-nothing, well, um, actually Greg was just helping me with this first aid kit. He accidently gave me a bloody nose. W-we were wrestling. You know, boys will be boys, heh." Wirt stumbled through his response and Beatrice cringed.

"Wirt, you know you can't do stuff like that. Your history of bloody noses ..." the voice at the door reprimanded, but with a hint of sympathy mixed in. "Do you need me to-"

"Nope. No. Just fine," Wirt cut her off.

"Yeah, we're fine. Thank you for asking. Please leave a message at the beep. Beeeeeep!" Greg added.

There was a long pause where Beatrice became very aware of her heartbeat, before the voice replied, "Okay, well, come downstairs and eat." The door closed and she heard soft footsteps receding into the background.

"Man that was close," Wirt exhaled loudly as he pulled the blankets away from Beatrice.

"Your mother?" she asked, pushing the strands of hair that had fallen out of place back into her bun.

Wirt nodded. "I guess we have to go eat now, but I'll sneak you something back."

"Thanks." Until that moment Beatrice hadn't been aware of how hungry she was and as if on cue her stomach rumbled causing Wirt to chuckle.

"I'll bring you something too!" Greg chimed in.

"No you won't," Wirt told him. "One person trying to sneak food up here will be hard enough."

"I'll just say it's for Jason Funderberker!"

Wirt rolled his eyes, but didn't continue the disagreement with his brother. Instead, his hand came to rest on Beatrice's shoulder. "I'll be back," he said and for some reason Beatrice's heart did a little flip flop.

"Okay," she replied, but then felt the need to tease. "By the way, the stuffed with cotton nose is a good look on you."

Wirt smirked at her and then taking Greg's hand he led him out of the room.

"Bye, Beatrice!" Greg said loudly from the hallway.

"Be quiet!" his brother hissed, closing his bedroom door shut and Beatrice giggled.

She was alone again, but after all the excitement of that afternoon, Beatrice didn't mind and leaning back on Wirt's bed, she tried to relax. Her eyes began roaming around his room, looking at all the things he had hung on the walls. There was a large image of a group of people Beatrice assumed were musicians, because some had instruments in their hands. There were also a few quotes written on paper that Wirt had stuck to the wall. Beatrice assumed he had taken them from old works of literature or maybe they were his poetry. She wasn't sure. Then her sight fell on the wall the head of his bed was pushed up against. Placed there were polaroids and Beatrice shifted her position to get a better look. That's when she saw they were images of Wirt and Sara together.

Beatrice didn't know why she felt surprised at them being there. The story Wirt told his mother of how Sara and him were still dating was one Beatrice knew about and yet, seeing them together on his wall made her feel stupid emotions again. This time it was one she didn't have any right to feel. Jealousy. With a groan, Beatrice shoved her face into Wirt's pillow and reached her uninjured hand underneath to help push it in closer. She wanted to smother a scream of frustration, but after doing so her hand brushed across something that felt familiar … something that she also kept hidden underneath her pillow back at home. Quickly Beatrice snatched the two polaroids that were there and then a bright smile formed on her face when she brought them out to see. They were ones she had taken of herself and then given to Wirt.