Blinded by the Light – Chapter 2
by taitofan
Rated T for implied sexual situations
Disclaimer: I don't own Over the Garden Wall or its characters.
Author's Note: I can't take credit for these names—my rp partner that won this request came up with them.
If you have any CC, please share and I'll listen. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 06-14-15
Wirt slowly got to his feet, staring at the wall. After a few long moments, he laughed and raced up the hill, crossing the train tracks and stopping at the wall itself. He reached out, touching it, making sure that it was real. It was.
"Wirt, I know you're excited, but take a look at yourself."
The Beast's voice got his attention, but it didn't rid him of his excitement. He looked down, noticing that his hand were bigger, his legs were longer. He wore the same sort of clothes he normally did, but his cape and hat were gone. It seemed that for these twenty-four hours, he was going to be how old he should have been, had he left the Unknown.
"I'm—" His words died in his throat as he looked at his companions. The Woodsman looked the same, just without his hat. But the Beast… "W-wow… Whispers was right."
He stared at the unfamiliar looking man. Tall and lean, with sandy dark blond hair and amber eyes. He was as pale as death. Fitting, Wirt supposed.
He was also handsome as sin, and Wirt wouldn't have minded spending at whole day in the Beast's arms. But he had a mission, and it was more likely to get the Beast in that body in the future than to get this chance again. Besides, with the way the Woodsman was staring, Wirt was quite sure the Beast could use this opportunity to get their other plan underway.
"Okay, so, we need to get over the wall. The cemetery is there. Maybe you can find a clue there, Woodsman? I mean, I don't know if this is where you lived, but it's a start. Beast, you should stay with him, and I'll go look for Greg." The Beast nodded—Wirt had already requested that he be allowed to make the plan during the trip, and the Beast had approved. "I can climb the tree. Do you guys think—?"
"Don't worry." The Beast strode over to the Woodsman, and without a word, he picked the Woodsman up and threw him over his shoulder. His human body might not have looked very strong, but even as the Woodsman kicked and insisted he be put down, the Beast never flinched. Considering Wirt had seen the Woodsman break a rock with an axe, that was mighty impressive. "Find your brother; get this wanderlust out of your system. We shall stay here and wait for your return."
Wirt nodded, quickly scaling the tree. His body might have been all new, but he was in good shape from years of wandering the forest. When he hit the ground, he hesitated for only a moment, remembering the last time he'd been here. The last time he'd been alive. Then he shook his head and hurried off. He had to find Greg.
"Unhand me, Beast," the Woodsman growled when Wirt disappeared over the wall. "I'm not so old that I can't climb a tree!"
"I know." Still, the Beast didn't put him down. "However, we're going to do this the fast way."
The Beast carried him up the same way Wirt had gone, but rather than climb the tree, he crouched down and then leapt up, scaling the wall in a single jump. The Woodsman was never so happy to have his feet on the ground as he was when the Beast finally put him down.
"…Thank you." He was reluctant to say such things to the Beast, human looking or not. It was just part of the disguise, and it would be gone in less than a day. He wouldn't be fooled by it. "There are many graves here."
"Indeed," the Beast agreed, looking out over the cemetery. "We should begin our search. If it doesn't wield any results, we'll need time to think of something else."
The Woodsman told himself that the Beast didn't really care about helping him. He never had and he never would. The Woodsman tried not to think that once upon a time, he'd believed otherwise. He'd been such a fool, and he was starting to fall for it all over again.
"I don't need your help," he muttered, going off to the closest corner, intending to be thorough. He needed to see if two graves had a man and a teenage girl with the same last name, who died at the same time. Whether or not his wife would be there too, he wasn't sure. Maybe he'd find that out too.
Maybe he would remember why he didn't recall ever having loved her.
"And what will you do if you find what you're looking for?" The Woodsman glanced over to see the Beast a row over, reading over tombstones. He would read them for himself later. "You will know your name, but will anything really change other than how you introduce yourself?"
"Do you really think not knowing who I was is better? You know how long I've been in the Unknown. How long I've dearly wished to call my daughter by her name." He thought back to the first time he'd seen the Beast. He hadn't even been in the Unknown for long—he remembered how to use an axe, so he'd been chopping wood. The Beast hadn't even seemed threatening at the time, just a strange spirit of the forest. How naïve he had been. He'd trusted the Beast, only to have that trust thrown back in his face. He wasn't going to do it again. "Why do you even care what happens to me?"
"I needed a lantern bearer. I cannot cut the Edelwood myself." The Woodsman gave a disgusted sigh, refusing to look at the Beast. "You would not have cut them down had you have figured out where they came from, unless you thought your daughter's soul was there in the lantern. And even then, it didn't really matter, did it?"
"You kept me lost in the woods for decades, thinking she was dead for good! I was just the perfect pawn for you to manipulate, wasn't I?" The Beast didn't answer, and he finally looked up, scowling at the creature masquerading as a man. "Answer me Beast—wasn't I?"
"…You were perfect, and that was why it had to be you." The Beast stopped where he was and slowly walked over to the Woodsman. Even having proper legs, he still seemed to glide. "That is why Wirt had to be your replacement when you stopped cutting the Edelwood. He, too, is perfect. But I would still welcome you back, Woodsman, if you were ever to change your mind. We would both like to have you join us."
He glared as the Beast reached out and gently touched the Woodsman's face with his long fingers. They felt so very human, yet they were cold.
"Never."
The Beast chuckled, taking another step closer. He was a few inches taller than the Woodsman, and when he refused to look at the Beast, those cold fingers tilted his head up by his chin.
"Never is a long time," the Beast murmured, his face close. Too close. "Your daughter will find someone special, if she has not already. And you will be alone again."
"That's enough." He wanted to pull away, but he couldn't seem to move. He wished magic were to blame, but he knew that wasn't the case. "I have work to do."
"You once said yes," the Beast reminded him. "You once let me in, you let go of your guilt and took what you wanted."
"It was a mistake." This was all a mistake. He never should have come along. "I never should have let you touch me."
"You loved me."
"Of course I did!" The Woodsman finally pulled away, flushed and angry and not sure which of the two of them he hated more in that moment. "Other than my daughter, you were the only one I had! But it was all a lie. You were never my friend. I was convenient because I could already use an axe. You must have had some other fool carry your lantern, and when you were done with them, you fooled me."
"They were useless." The Beast frowned, taking a step forward. The Woodsman just took one back. "They couldn't chop a tree to save their life, let alone mine. Do you think I liked needing to depend on someone else to keep me alive? I did enjoy your company Woodsman, believe it or not. But I wanted to live, and I wanted you to carry my lantern. If only you hadn't been so…" He trailed off, sighing wearily. "Wirt is every bit a Prince the songs about him say. But you Woodsman, you still have all those nasty, messy emotions that make you human. Wirt was happy to give them up, but you keep them close to you. The two of you are so very different, and yet, you are the only two I've ever let carry my lantern for so long."
The Woodsman wondered how many there had been before himself.
"…And what should I care about that? With all you've done to me—"
"I don't expect your forgiveness," the Beast interrupted, "and I am not apologizing. What is done is done, and I might not have Wirt if things hadn't happened how they did. But the offer still stands. When this is over, you could come with us. Leave the Edelwood to Wirt—he doesn't mind. We could all be together, just the three of us, forever."
His words were just as impressive as the first time the Woodsman had heard them. And he still wanted to say yes so much.
"N-no. I won't do it."
The Beast didn't look upset. He didn't even look as if he believed those words for a moment. And when he strode over and deftly caught the Woodsman in a kiss, well, the Woodsman didn't know if he believed his own words either.
"I hate you," he whispered between kisses, feeling the warmth between them despite how cold the Beast's body was.
"You love me," the Beast corrected coolly. "You hate yourself for loving me, despite all that I have done to you. You hate yourself for being everything you were told was wrong when you were alive, don't you, Marcus?"
The Woodsman pulled back at the name, feeling as if he'd been burned.
"What did you call me?"
The Beast did not answer aloud, but instead took his hand and lead him over to the last grave he'd been near. There were three headstones. The oldest looking one was for Nancy Whittaker, and the smallest was for Anna Whittaker. Looking at the dates, it was clear that Nancy died during childbirth. Then there was the name in the center, sharing the same date of death as Anna.
Marcus Whittaker.
The Woodsman fell to his knees as everything came rushing back at an impossible rate. Forcing himself to marry Nancy in an attempt to cure his sinful emotions towards men, his guilt at not loving her, his joy at Anna's birth, more guilt when he didn't feel he mourned Nancy's passing enough, the house fire that took away both his and Anna's lives…
He barely realized that the Beast was knelling down beside him until he wrapped his arms around him.
"You have found your answers. Now, what shall you do with that knowledge?" Marcus didn't answer right away—he couldn't find his voice to do so. It took a few minutes, in which he gradually relaxed into the Beast's embrace, before his head cleared enough to think.
"Beast… Were you ever alive?"
"Not as you once were." It was hard to tell when the Beast was lying, but Marcus thought this time he was likely telling the truth. "I was born of the sorrow of lost souls, and that is how I will remain."
"And your soul mixing with Wirt's is really enough to keep you alive without Edelwood oil?"
"It is."
Marcus slowly stood up, the Beast rising with him. When they were both on their feet, it was Marcus who reinitiated the hug.
"Then… I will consider your offer."
He felt the Beast smile as their lips came together again, and he wasn't sure he could fight this terrible ache any longer.
Wirt walked down streets that were familiar, yet very foreign. So much time had passed—he hadn't known how long it would be, but he'd assumed time passed faster in the Unknown. And yet, now he thought perhaps time in the real world just stopped when one still had a chance to leave the Unknown. He'd been dead for over nine years, and nine years had passed in the world of the living.
Greg was fifteen now, the same age Wirt had been when he died.
"W-wirt? Is that you?"
Wirt stopped abruptly, his whole body freezing. He knew that ridiculous voice. It was deeper than when he'd last heard it, and the stutter didn't seem as bad, but it was something that Wirt was quite sure he would never forget.
"Jason Funderberker?" Wirt stayed still as Jason ran up to him, his eyes wide with disbelief. Wirt couldn't really blame him, all things considered. He also found he didn't feel any deep resentment for the other man either. Why had he hated Jason so much again? A girl, right…? Right, Sara, that was it. That and the fact that making friends seemed to come so much easier to Jason than it had to him. But his jealousy was gone, and all that was left was a faint sense of happiness at seeing a familiar face. "It's been a while."
"Wirt…" Jason reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, and Wirt let him. He assumed Jason was making sure he wasn't a ghost. "How are you…? You've been dead for… I was at your funeral."
"Thank you for that," he answered politely. "I wasn't very kind to you before I drowned, so that was nice of you."
"Drowned? Wirt, are you saying you're really dead?"
He looked so freaked out by the very idea that Wirt had to laugh. He hadn't really thought of what he would do if anyone recognized him.
"It's a long story. But since I probably shouldn't waltz into Greg's school, I have time to kill if you want to hear it."
Jason stared for a moment before nodding, and that was how Wirt found himself in a small, clean apartment ten minutes later. It barely looked lived in, but Jason had to have been at least close to twenty-five himself. How long could he have been here and still have it look so impersonal?
"Yeah, it's pretty empty, I know. I work a lot. Rent is pretty high, even with a small as it is." They hadn't been good friends, but the town wasn't big enough that rumors were never heard. Jason's dad had run out when they were in middle school, and his mom always seemed distant whenever Wirt had seen her. It was no wonder Jason didn't want to live with her, even if it meant working long hours to live somewhere else. "I wish my landlord didn't have a no pets rule. It'd be much nicer here with a cat, I think…"
"I know a talking cat, back at home." He knew he hadn't even told Jason about the Unknown yet, but he looked so sad, and Wirt wasn't used to dealing with sadness anymore. At least, unless it was a terrible lost soul turning into Edelwood. "His name is Enoch, and he's the mayor of Pottsfield. I think you'd like him."
"Well, I would love to meet a talking cat." Jason paused, and then he shook his head slowly. "I can't believe I'm saying this. Wirt, I think you should tell me why you're here, when I saw them bury your casket into the ground."
Wirt nodded, sitting in a small wooden chair Jason offered to him. Soon he was telling his story of giving up his life for Greg's safe return, of his days spent in the forest, of his desire to see Greg just once. Jason listened raptly, not interrupting even once. Wirt left out a few of the more intimate details of his time with the Beast and the Woodsman, but otherwise he did not shy away from telling exactly what he had done in his afterlife.
"And that's about it," he finished when he got caught up to the current day. Jason's eyes were wide as he took in everything.
"So you wander the forests of purgatory with an eldritch beast made from oily wood?" Wirt nodded after a moment. He supposed it did sound odd when it was put like that. "I can't believe I have a dead man in my apartment."
"I didn't think I was going to be in your apartment today either," Wirt admitted with an easy smile. It seemed silly now that he'd disliked Jason so much because of a girl. Sure, he'd loved her back then, but he supposed he just as easily could have loved Jason instead, if he hadn't been trying so hard to pretend he wasn't bisexual at the time. Just another thing the Beast had helped him with.
"And we'll never see each other again after today…"
Wirt wondered if he should give some sort of "That's a good thing because it mean you're alive!" spiel, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe he was just too in tune with people's suffering considering his role with the Beast, but he got the feeling Jason wasn't as happy with his life as he'd been in high school.
"Not unless you get yourself in a situation where you could die, but you could still get yourself out of it if you were dedicated enough." They were all dead in the Unknown, and all of them, for one reason or another, had chosen to stay. If you didn't leave the Unknown, you lived happily in the Wonderland-like purgatory, or you fell to despair and got turned to Edelwood.
Well, unless you were the Woodsman, he supposed. Wirt knew, from the Beast's own admission, that lantern bearers were not exempt from becoming Edelwood. But if the Beast didn't will it? Wirt wondered if the Woodsman knew how fond of him the Beast truly was.
"You're not doing a good job selling living when you're saying I could live in a world where cats can talk and magic is real just by drowning and deciding not to leave." Jason was obviously trying to act as if he were kidding, but Wirt knew better. And considering he no longer had the anxiety to over think his responses…
"Jason, are you depressed?" He expected a quick denial—not the hallow laugh he got.
"I don't know," he admitted, turning to look out the window. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, but Jason didn't look content at all. "I know I'm not really happy though."
Wirt had once thought Jason Funderberker was perfect. The total package. Now, hearing him saying those sorts of things didn't sit well with Wirt. It made him uncomfortable.
He wasn't supposed to feel this way anymore. Why was he feeling like this?
"Wirt, are you okay? You don't look well. I mean, even for a dead man." Jason's genuine chuckle soothed Wirt's nerves a bit. Maybe this was just because he was in this false body, far away from where his soul was sitting safely in a lantern. Besides, the feelings were still very muted—tiny twinges instead of the almost crippling anxiety he'd felt when he was alive. It would pass, he was sure.
"I'm fine," he replied, smiling again, a half-truth already on his tongue. "Just wishing it was time for Greg to get out of school. I really don't want to go home to find him. The less people I know who recognize me, the better, you know?"
"Yeah, that's understandable." Jason seemed more than willing to turn the conversation away from his apparent melancholy. "Your parents would freak, and I'm not sure Sara could handle seeing you. She was a wreck after they pulled your body out of the lake."
"She was?"
"Yeah, of course," Jason gave him a look that seemed to be saying 'Are you shitting me right now?' "She had the biggest crush on you."
"She did?"
It occurred to him that if he'd realized Sara liked him too, he never would have been in the situation that lead him to where he was now. Even if he didn't have the two tethers that he did to the Unknown, he didn't feel as if he was missing anything by not being alive. It was still an amazing thing, knowing that Sara had cared for him.
"We all knew you two liked each other," Jason continued. "All of us were just waiting for it to happen."
"I didn't know that she…" How could he have missed that? Even with his anxiety, surely he should have been able to see someone being attracted to him. He'd picked up on the Woodsman's attraction immediately. "I thought she liked you. And you liked her too. Why didn't you two end up together?"
"You're not even joking, are you?" Jason laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Sara and I weren't even close friends. She called me by my last name. I'm not sure how you even began to think she'd ever pick me over you." He paused, looking Wirt over carefully before he sighed and added, "…Besides, it was more like I wanted to like her, but I didn't. I couldn't."
"You're gay?"
"You're awfully blunt these days."
Wirt shrugged; his job was awfully dull when you pussyfooted around the fact that a lost soul was turning into a tree. Dull and drawn out and taking away from time he could be with the Beast.
"Things happen when you die," was all he said. "Don't avoid the question."
"I am." There was a familiar, uncomfortable look on Jason's face and Wirt noticed that Jason was avoiding his eye. "No one knows though, well, except for you now. If my mom knew…"
"Don't worry, I don't care. I never told anyone when I was alive, but I liked girls and guys. The people of the Unknown call me the Beast's Prince for a reason, you know." He wouldn't even bring up what he and the Woodsman had done just recently.
"The same Beast that's made of literal wood?"
"I could make a terrible joke right now, if you'd like," Wirt offered, smirking lightly. Jason laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, well, like I said, things happen. I never expected it to end up that way. It just did."
"…You really do seem a lot happier now then you did when you were alive."
"I am," Wirt admitted, not even needing to think about it. "If it weren't for Greg… I wouldn't even think about coming back."
Jason became dreadfully quiet, and Wirt wondered if he really should have told the other man that.
Marcus let the Beast lead him around the cemetery, one arm over his shoulder, occasionally pointing out a name that Marcus recognized. It seemed quite a few people who lived in their corner of the Unknown had once lived in this town. Still, Marcus could only think of the three tombstones of him and his family.
"You are over thinking things," the Beast murmured, squeezing Marcus's shoulder. It was deceptively affectionate. "You have been dead for over a hundred years. What do you have to feel guilt over now?"
"I couldn't love my wife, the woman who died bearing my child, and yet I'm here with you. I had my way with Wirt just last night. I believe all my age means is that I'm old enough to know better than to fall for any of your nonsense, yet here I am." Marcus jerked to a stop when the Beast stopped moving. He was about to question the Beast when he noticed the grave they stopped before.
Wirt Rogers, dead at the young age of fifteen.
"Wirt didn't even ask if he could seduce you." Marcus tore his eyes from the grave, wanting to think the Beast was lying. He knew that wasn't true. "It wasn't hard for him. Nor has it has not been difficult for me today."
"You're very confident that I will side with you, Beast." The Beast smirked, letting go of Marcus's shoulder and standing calmly beside him.
"I am. But right now, we have company." Marcus glanced up, seeing a young woman looking into the cemetery. She was staring right at them. "Perhaps this is the woman Wirt once… loved."
The Beast said the word as if it were the most hilarious concept in the world. A stark contrast to his reaction to Lorna. The Beast really did not see this woman as a threat, assuming that was really her. Not that the Beast should have felt threatened by anyone, what with Wirt's total devotion to him. It occurred to Marcus that technically he was the closest to a "threat," but seeing as they were both trying to seduce him…
"Um, excuse me?" The woman was quickly approaching, looking suspicious of them. "Hello, my name is Sara. I'm sorry if this seems strange, but, ah, did you know Wirt?"
Marcus thought that this probably was the woman, if she knew the location of Wirt's grave so well. The Beast's face seemed to show recognition of the name, and he smiled in a deceivingly charming manner.
"Good afternoon, Miss Sara," the Beast greeted pleasantly. "I am Henryk, and this is my partner, Marcus. We are friends of Wirt's birth father." He reached out and took Marcus's hand—it was slightly warmer than it had been earlier. "We live far away, but since we were passing through, it seemed fitting to pay our respects."
"I see…" Sara looked down at the gravestone, gently running her fingers over it. It was obvious that she had held Wirt dearly in her heart. "I'm sure he would appreciate it, even if he didn't really ever see his father."
Marcus hadn't known much about Wirt's family; he assumed the Beast knew because Wirt had told him about it at some point in their nine years together. It helped in this case, creating a lie that the woman believed easily. She didn't even seem to suspect that they were not actually a couple. He supposed that was an odd thing to lie about. If only she knew who was lying to her… Marcus could only begin to imagine how many times Wirt had had sex with the Beast over the years.
"I thank you, Miss Sara." Marcus wished he could get away with rolling his eyes—the only thing the Beast was thankful for was the fact that he had Wirt and Sara never would. "It was such a tragedy to lose him so soon, but I have the utmost confidence that Wirt is happy where he is now."
Sara smiled softly at the hopeful words, never knowing how true those words were. Wirt was happy, even with the Beast. Even if Marcus thought it was a tragedy that the young man had ended up turning into everything the Beast wanted in a little pet—everything he couldn't turn Marcus himself into—it was clear Wirt was content.
"Well, it was nice to meet you both. I need to get to work, but thanks for visiting Wirt."
The Beast bid her a good day on behalf of the both of them, Sara not seeming terrible concerned that Marcus had never said a word. It had been a thankfully short meeting.
"Henryk?" Marcus asked once Sara was out of range. The Beast took his free hand and placed it on Marcus's hip, pulling his body closer. Marcus's felt his face heat up at the contact. He tried to remind himself that he'd had sex with the Beast before, when he was made of wood, so this was nothing. It wasn't working.
"It was merely the first name I thought of. Don't think too much into it." The Beast smirked, bringing their faces closer. "Now, my dear partner, have you given more thought into your answer?"
"…You'll have it when we return to the Unknown. Surely you can wait until then."
"I have been patient for a long time." He leaned in and kissed Marcus far more softly than the last time. "I can wait for you to accept what you desire."
Not for the first time, Marcus wondered why he was bothering to hold back.
Wirt waited impatiently, sitting in Jason's apartment and wondering what the future was to bring. Jason had gone out to meet Greg when school was out, to make their reunion a bit less public. And not to start a riot when a dead man showed up at the local high school.
He jumped when he heard voices approaching the door, one asking what the big surprise was. Wirt's heart beat wildly—there was no doubting that was Greg. His voice was much deeper, but that was his little brother. He was finally going to see him…!
The doorknob turned, and Wirt scrambled to his feet. In moments, the door swung open, and—
"Greg!"
Wirt ran to his brother, hugging him closely. Greg did not respond at first, seeming to be frozen in place. But when Wirt pulled away enough to look at his brother's face, the tears he found there said everything.
"W-wirt…? Is that really you? This isn't another dream?"
"It's me," Wirt promised, feeling his own eyes sting. When had he last cried? He couldn't recall. "Do you remember Lorna and Auntie Whispers? They helped me visit you."
"I knew it Wirt, I knew it! Everyone said I'd just dreamed about the Unknown, but I knew it was real!" Greg pulled away from the hug and laughed, grabbing Wirt's hands and bouncing on his heels. Then it happened—the pang of regret. The wish that he had been around to see Greg grow up. And that lead to a mild sense of panic. No, no, this wasn't right! He wasn't supposed to feel any of this! "Wirt?"
"Don't worry about me, I'm fine!" But he wasn't, and judging by the look on Jason's face, he wasn't being very convincing about that. "Oh Greg, there's so much I want to ask you."
"Me too!" Greg cheered, going back to his bouncing. "I'm so glad you're back!"
"Well, it's…" He hated to think that he was about to upset Greg, but he could lie to him about something so important. "It's only for a day."
"What?" Sure enough, Greg's face fell, and there was that terrible guilt again. "No, Wirt, you can't leave again!"
"I have to," he explained gently, taking his hands from Greg and placing them on his brother's shoulders. He was almost depressed to see that Greg was nearly as tall as he was. He was quite sure Greg would be taller than him if he were in his real body. "I can only be here for a day. That's all the magic will allow. I'm dead, Greg, and that won't change for all the magic in the world. I have to go back."
"O-oh…" Greg closed his eyes, and Wirt didn't hurry him along. This was easy, he knew. "Well, maybe you can visit again some time?"
Greg's face was so full of innocent hope that this time Wirt couldn't tell him the truth. Besides, maybe there were other spells out there. Maybe he could come back.
"Of course, Greg, I'm sure I can."
"Great!" Greg's smile was back in an instant, bringing one to Wirt's face too. "Then we have to talk as much as we can before you have to go!"
"We will, but…" He looked up to Jason, who nodded without hesitation. Wirt got the feeling Jason didn't turn away company.
"It's fine Wirt," he assured. There! Again! The guilt for how he'd treated Jason, especially with how kind Jason was being right now. He didn't hold a grudge at all, and Wirt knew he'd been an utter prick. "I have to get to work soon anyway. Just stay here and talk. It'll be safer."
"Thank you," he said sincerely, before something hit him. Two somethings. "Hey, I actually came here with two men, and they're in the cemetery…"
"I pass there on my way to work. I'll give them directions." If Wirt wasn't taken he might have kissed Jason. How did this man not have a boyfriend?
Oh, right, because the whole world thought he was straight.
"Jason, you are seriously the best. After all I did—"
"It's fine, Wirt, really it is." Jason grabbed a bag from the counter, presumably containing things he needed for his job. "I don't blame you for anything, and what kind of person would I be if I didn't help you out when you have so little time? Have fun with Greg, and I'll tell your friends where you are. I'll be back in a few hours."
Wirt and Greg said their goodbyes, and once the door shut, Greg turned his attention back to Wirt.
"Who else came with you?" he asked excitedly, probably hoping it was someone they'd made friends with. Wirt didn't even think before he answered.
"The Woodsman and the Beast."
But when Greg's eyes widened, he thought he probably should have.
"The Beast? You brought the Beast?"
"Is it that surprising?" Greg knew why Wirt had died, right? "You got out because I agreed to carry the lantern. Why wouldn't you think I'd be with the Beast?"
"I dunno," Greg admitted quietly, clenching his fists together. "I thought maybe you'd gotten away from him… Have you cut down Edelwood trees?"
Wirt wanted to lie. He wanted to lie so badly. Mostly, he wanted the Beast there, so he could be assured that these terrible emotions would go away.
"I have." He didn't dare tell Greg it wasn't necessary. "But everyone has deserved it, so—"
"What? Wirt, how can you say that?" Greg looked betrayed, and Wirt thought his stomach was trying to twist itself into knots. "They were people!"
"They were trees. They weren't people and they weren't using the oil." Because Wirt had lured them in. Because Wirt had fed their despair. Because Wirt wanted the Beast to have more power. "Greg, I know it's hard to understand, but—"
He stopped short as Greg's eyes began to fill with tears again, and this time they weren't happy ones.
"Oh Wirt, what happened to you?"
What happened to him…? He closed his eyes and sighed.
"My life isn't my own anymore, Greg. I live for the Beast. And I'm happy that way." Greg didn't look convinced. "I don't expect you to be pleased about it, but it's true. I work with the Beast, and I… I care for him." Why was that so hard to say to Greg? He'd never had a problem flaunting his title before. "And the Woodman might join us too."
"But the Woodsman hates the Beast," Greg insisted, and Wirt wasn't sure if he could actually refute that. "The Beast lied to him!"
"These things are complicated. I hope… I hope they aren't things you'll have to deal with when you're an adult." Because Wirt knew that this situation wasn't exactly healthy by human standards. But he didn't care. Even with his anxiety coming back, by the stars, he still loved the Beast. And he got the feeling the Woodsman's hatred wasn't as simple as just that. "You know, maybe coming here was a mistake."
Greg was out of his chair in a moment, throwing himself into Wirt's lap. Wirt held him close, not wanting to let go. Yes, this had been selfish of him. Of course Greg was going to be fine. It had been because of his own lingering worry that he had wanted to seek out his brother.
"I wouldn't say that." Wirt and Greg's heads both shot up to see two men enter the apartment. How had they managed to be so quiet? "I would actually say it's been a fruitful trip, wouldn't you, Marcus?"
Greg's grip on him tightened, and Wirt stroked his back, trying to calm him.
"Greg, you remember the Woodsman, um, Marcus?" The Woodsman nodded, and Wirt smiled. He'd found his past; that was a relief! "And, well, this isn't how he usually looks, but this is the Beast."
"Hello, Gregory," the Woodsman—no, Marcus, Wirt reminded himself—greeted warmly. "You've grown up well."
"Still trying to catch the sun in teacups?" the Beast teased, and while Wirt had no idea what that meant, he knew it must have happened when they'd been separated, if Greg's body tensing even more was any indication.
"You changed my brother," was all Greg said, getting out of Wirt's lap and glaring at the Beast. It was a bit more intimidating than it had been when he was six. "What did you do to him?"
"Nothing he didn't want." And it wasn't a lie, but Greg remained unconvinced. "You don't believe me. I cannot blame you, but it is the truth. Your brother is the best lantern bearer I've ever had." He glanced to Marcus. "No offense, my dear."
"I'd hate myself if I'd been the best."
"And I love you too."
Wirt desperately wished he knew what had happened while he was away from them.
"Greg," he said quickly, standing up and turning him in the direction of the bathroom, "why don't you call mom and think of an excuse to stay out. It's Friday, right? See if you can convince her to let you spend the night at a friend's house."
Greg seemed to realize that Wirt wanted him to leave the room for a minute, but Wirt knew he made a good point, so Greg did so without complaint. When he'd shut the bathroom door, Wirt turned back to them.
"What's going on? You two seem a lot closer than when I left you." He laughed when the Beast pulled Marcus close, making him flush.
"Wirt, I believe our dear Woodsman will be joining us yet. Isn't that right, Marcus?"
"I… I haven't given my answer yet…"
Wirt couldn't help it, he rushed over and threw his arms around Marcus's neck, kissing the shocked man deeply. Marcus responded after a moment, making Wirt smile into the kiss. This was perfect! They should have tried getting Marcus to join them years ago!
"Eww, I don't want to see my brother kissing!" Wirt and Marcus pulled apart to see Greg put his cellphone away, sticking his tongue out. Then he giggled, smiling brightly again. "So you really are happy, Wirt?"
Wirt nodded, grabbing Marcus's hand with one of his, and the Beast's with the other.
"I am."
"Good." He sat back down, patting another chair. "Then we have a lot to talk about! Come on Wirt, we need to do a lot of catching up before tomorrow!"
Wirt laughed and sat back down, the Beast and Marcus following suit in the last two chairs. He'd been wrong, he thought as Greg began to tell him about his plans to go to art school for painting. This wasn't a bad trip at all.
Now he just had to hope that leaving Greg wouldn't be too painful to recover from.