Author's notes: Written for the Winter Whumperland challenge prompts "Trapped In A Blizzard," "Self-sacrifice" and "Comfort: Warm Kisses."

This is a two-shot now! Because I realized that I could just do that instead of publishing this one as a separate "companion piece" or whatever.

I'm not even halfway through the prompts that were supposed to be done ten days ago.

"Mom!" Wirt groaned. "That's like, the twelfth time you've kissed me."

Greg stood on his hospital bed. "Hey! You only kissed me four times!"

"Well, I'm not done yet," she said, coming over to sprinkle his face with more.

Greg counted seven. "One more."

His dad snorted as Mom gave him a final peck on the cheek. Then he came over and gave him one on the top of his messy brown hair. "Goodnight. And if you need to go to the bathroom, try not to fall into the toilet too."

"Marvin!"

He gave a sheepish smirk as Greg giggled. "We'll be back first thing in the morning," she said, turning back to her sons. She gave Wirt, then Greg one last kiss. "Love you both."

"Love you, Mom."

"You forgot to kiss Jason Funderburker," Greg added, holding him up.

Their mom stared for a moment, took a deep breath, and walked out of the room without another word.

Greg's father snorted, then winked at the boys and followed.

Greg looked sour for a few seconds, then threw himself back on the bed. "Ain't that just the way, Jason Funderburker?"

"ROROP."

A nurse came in a few minutes later to tell them that they needed to get to sleep.

"But I'm not tired," Greg said, stifling a yawn as he spoke.

The nurse gave a thin smile and turned off the light.

Greg stuck his tongue out in her direction, then turned onto his side. Wirt laid down and frowned up at the ceiling.

"Why is it still Halloween?" Greg asked. "We were over there a really long time."

It took a few seconds for Wirt to answer. "I don't know. I guess it just works that way."

"It was snowing when we left. I was afraid that we'd missed Thanksgiving."

"Yeah."

Greg scrunched up his face, trying to make Wirt out in the darkness. He was talking all quiet. Greg wondered if he was In A Mood. Their mom said that Wirt had Moods a lot because he was a teenager, though Greg had once heard his dad say that Wirt had been having them longer than that. Anyway, Mom said to be extra nice to him when he was In A Mood (and maybe not talk to him at all, though Greg had never been good at that). Wirt had definitely been In A Mood after they left Lorna's house, but he had seemed happy once they got the hospital.

Remembering that time, when it had been snowing and Wirt had been Moody, made Greg think of the Beast and the stuff that had happened afterward. His shoulders tightened a little, and he hugged Jason Funderburker a bit closer to his chest.

"It's good that we're home, right?"

"Huh? Yeah," Wirt said, finally turning his head to look at his brother.

"Yeah. It's good," Greg said, and yawned again. Then, "Think they'll give us casts tomorrow?"

"What?"

"Jessica from school went to the hospital and they gave her a cast," Greg muttered thickly. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "Everybody in class signed it. I drew a kangaroo. Jessica likes kangaroos."

Wirt didn't respond, which was fine, because Greg was picturing himself with a cast and thinking about what everybody would draw on it. He was still thinking of that as he drifted off to sleep.

At some point, the blackness in Greg's vision was replaced with white. Just white and cold. He shivered, feeling his teeth chatter. He tried to move, but everything felt heavy. And he was stuck. Like he was tied up or something.

With effort, Greg turned his head. He saw trees.

This was familiar, but his mind was struggling to remember why. He tried and then gave up and then found himself trying again.

This was back in the Unknown, waiting for the sun to go down, and—

It was so cold, and he suddenly felt so tired.

The white started to turn black again, and then his eyes fluttered open. He tried to breathe, but it was painful. The cold hurt his chest.

Wirt? Greg tried to say, but all that came out was a small, hurty puff.

It was still hard to think, but Greg knew that this was wrong. He was home now. Dimly he remembered the hospital room, though remembering the word "hospital" would have overtaxed him had he tried it. He shouldn't be here anymore. He had saved Wirt, and Wirt had carried him home, and the Beast was gone. They were safe now.

Weren't they?

He tried to be home again. He didn't quite realize that he was dreaming, but on instinct he tried to wake up. It didn't work. He was stuck on the border between sleep and wakefulness, just like he was stuck in this hard, suffocating tree.

He shook all over, which was the most that he could make himself move. It was really cold. He had been warm before. He wanted to be warm again.

Wirt! he tried to yell again.

Jason Funderburker! Beatrice!

Mom? Dad?

Greg heard a sob and felt another stab of pain in his chest.

So cold.

His vision started to dim again. When it was all black, he found that he could turn over again, but he still struggled to escape the darkness and wake up.

He couldn't see the snow, but he was still shivering.

And then, just as he was starting to panic, he felt a wonderful warmth spread up his body. It felt so nice, and without thinking Greg gripped his fingers. He felt a blanket there, unfamiliar but welcome.

Then he felt another comforting warmth as someone bent down and kissed him on the forehead.

Mom? he thought, remembering the kisses that she had peppered on his face before bed.

But it was Wirt's voice that he heard whispering from a few inches above him.

"Thanks. For saving me."

Greg wanted to laugh for some reason. He still didn't have enough energy, though, so he just smiled.

He felt Wirt move away, but that was okay. Greg was back in his bed again, with his blanket pulled up to his neck, warm and safe. He stopped fighting for wakefulness, and let himself sink into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.