"Doctor, will they be alright?"
"I believe so. The outlook is good: Nothing seems wrong, besides dehydration, hunger, and this strange glittery stuff. I have no idea what they puked up."
Wes' eyes cracked open a smidge before slamming back shut.
"What can we do to help? It might be ghost-related! What if Undergrowth had something to do with it."
Wes tried again, slowly. This time he was ready for it. He shielded his eyes with his hand. It felt like it was made of stone. Stiff, heavy, cold.
"Wesley? Mr. Weston, can you hear me? How do you feel?" The doctor wore a medical mask on his face. So did the nurse. He was on a bed in one of the tunnels. Danny lay on another nearby.
"Like crap," he managed to croak.
"Well, yes, that's to be expected. It seems you haven't eaten or drunk anything in the month you and Mr. Fenton have been missing. I'm honestly surprised you aren't dead. It's possible the glitter you puked up was what was keeping you two alive."
"But, we weren't gone for a month. We were gone for maybe half an hour, hour tops," groaned Danny from his cot.