The first thing Wirt saw when he opened his eyes was Lorna setting down a bowl and a rag before sitting herself on the wooden stool beside him. She startled with a squeak when she saw him looking at her with dazed and sleepy charcoal colored eyes. She let out a breath. "Wirt, my big turtle. How're you feeling?"
His thoughts weren't cohesive enough yet. He felt as if he'd been asleep for a long time. He dreamt many things, most unpleasant, but some were enthralling. "You're…alive."
Lorna smiled softly, her eyes scrunching. "I haven't been alive in many years."
Wirt smiled, it feeling foreign. "You knew what I meant."
"I do. Now…" she stood, leaning over him and lifting his shirt to reveal the bandaged wound, unwrapping it and seeing it was healed, no scar in sight. "Good. It looks well. Care to explain why my baby turtle isn't with you?" She sat back down, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth.
Wirt tried gathering his thoughts but the time he wasn't himself felt like it was too long but he also felt as if he'd just seen Greg. "Mother…she took him from me. How long…has it been?"
Lorna tilted her head. "Since what exactly?" She grasped his still stained hand as if the black fingertips and nails weren't frozen to the touch.
"Everything." He muttered, looking up at the ceiling. "Everything feels so far away, but…didn't I just speak with Greg? Giving him a chance to go with mother?"
Pity was held in Lorna's gaze as her little "oh", got his attention back on her. "The Siren had quite the hold on you, I'm afraid. It's been years, Wirt. We could only get close to you because you were injured and dazed but…we haven't seen Greg with you in years and The Tavern-Keeper hasn't seen him since he brought along your friends."
"What?!" Wirt yelled, sitting up quickly and throwing the blanket off himself. "Years?! I-I have to check on him NOW." Wirt stood, a little wobbly.
Lorna stood as well, helping him. "I understand, Wirt, but no need to rush. I'll go with you."
"No, Lor-" he was cut off by her dead stare. He hadn't seen it in a long time. Not since her curse before Greg and him broke it.
"I'm worried you'll turn into The Siren and just after we got you back. I also wish to see him." Lorna whispered, a sad smile on her pale lips.
With a nod and a fresh set of clothes from The Tailor, the friends headed out towards The Beast's territory. With both of them hurrying, it didn't take long.
They reached the white picket fence of Mildred's home.
The house was empty. His mother's taste hadn't changed so Wirt stayed on edge, each blink of his eyes showing a flash from his past as a child. It felt too much like his childhood. It was hard to breathe.
They explored the house until they reached a room that had Greg's name on the door and they entered. It was neat but with little of anything that spoke of it being Greg's. Nothing stood out, but there had to be a trace of child-like whimsy somewhere in the room. Wirt knew it. Even if it was hidden from plain sight, Greg would try to make it his own.
"Whoa!" Lorna exclaimed a bit later as she was helping Wirt look around.
He looked back and saw she knocked into the small nightstand and a corner of a book was poking out. Bending down she grabbed it, opening it as the cover was blank. "It's a diary."
'Diary?' Wirt walked over, taking it from her. It was probably full of dreams or, hopefully, things that made Greg smile.
~"Diary,
I had a dream about Wirt last night. I wanted to tell mom, but she wouldn't allow it. He'll come back for me."~
~"Diary,
It's been a long time since I saw The Siren. Even longer since I saw Wirt. I'm worried over that brother o' mine. It was better for us in Gravity Falls. Wirt actually was able to connect with others his age and I know he felt more than a little crush towards Dipper and I know if I stayed longer I could find friends too. I saw them at a park and on the streets. Kids my age, I mean. Friends I can stay with. It's lonely only talking to you about him."~
~"Hey…
Mom hit me today, though she apologized a lot after."~
There were tear stains on the page and Wirt felt his body tense, blood already boiling. He kept on reading.
~"All I'd done was try and explain the curse on my back after Beau brought medicine and she flew into a violent tangent about Wirt and how horrible he is and other things I refuse to repeat. Obviously I had to defend him, he's trying his best, and that's when she smacked me. She thought my mind was being corrupted by him. Stupid, right?"~
The next one had shaky handwriting and Wirt's breath caught as he read it.
~"Why couldn't I have stayed with Wirt? I think——"~
Lines became shaky. Or maybe it was Wirt's hands as he could practically hear Greg say the words.
~"— I think I'd rather learn to kill to help my brother than stay in this town of fake people. I want my potatoes and molasses. I want to sing my songs, I want to sleep with my stuffed frog Jason Funderberker. I want the one who loves me most to hold me while I cry and while I laugh. But I have to be strong. Wirt needs me to be."~
Wirt let out a little chuckle at that but he couldn't help feeling guilty over the huge mistake he'd made. He wished Greg would've told him all this. He would've never let him go.
The pages were blank after that, Wirt's throat thick with emotion.
"Lorna, do you remember how to reach The Mill?" He asked, putting away the diary in his pocket, trying to stay calm as the black began to spread again. He'd NEVER return Greg to that home. They didn't have time. Who knew how long they were gone and Greg was still cursed.
Lorna nodded. "Are we-*cough*- going there? What did it-*cough cough*- say?" She asked, grabbing his hand to try and soothe him again.
"Yes. The Woodsman would be one of the first to know where father and Greg is and he usually stays near there. Will you…will you accompany me there? Having someone there will help me stay as Wirt." He smiled gently, even as his nerves frazzled again from the entries, him feeling that familiar rage and the black spread up his being. He would punish himself for his mistake later, but first, he had to get answers. "They're not here. Greg is first priority and I'm not sure where he is."
Lorna smiled, pulling him down by his shoulder and kissing his cheek, them burning. "You've changed, my turtle."
He blushed a bit, more so out of embarrassment. "No I haven't and don't do that." He couldn't say why she shouldn't, aside from they were friends, but friends did that right? And he wasn't sure what Dipper was to him or him to Dipper and there wasn't time for explaining his feelings about the man to her.
Lorna laughed before coughing again. "Let's find Greg."
Wirt smiled, at ease with Lorna around. With a tug at his heart he'd realized, 'I'm not alone anymore.' "Agreed."
Darkness fell quickly in Gravity Falls and with Greg in the crook of his shoulder, Dipper continued to read to him, the preteen still snuggling into someone like the child he was years ago. The girls retired already and so did Grunkle Stan. The book was from Grunkle Ford's collection, a more sci-fi than all his nonfiction books of varying genres. They'd both already bathed and Greg looked tired so he thought reading would be good but the kid was getting heavy with his body relaxing so Dipper thought maybe drawing would be better for him as Grunkle Ford should've been home by then, but when he reached over to set the book down, the flame in the lantern caught his eye. "Greg? Hey, time to get up, you can't sleep yet. Maybe I'll make you a sandwich then you can sleep."
Greg groaned, blinking the sleepiness away before he looked at his lap where the lantern was. "Hm?" He was still for a moment before Greg bolted up, looking intensely at the lantern.
Dipper ignored the feeling of unease. "What is it?"
A voice he didn't want to hear again caught his ears from outside the door and Dipper began looking for the many guns they kept stashed around without hesitation.
"Gregory, dear boy, I believe it's time you came home." The Beast spoke lowly. "I brought someone special with me this time."
Dipper felt energy in his chest. He continued searching, cursing quietly. "Greg-" his voice stopped, once he looked up to see the door open, Greg's face revealing shock and fear, taking a step back from the shadowy creature just outside, the being's eyes blazing white as it's vines crept in the doorway. "Greg, get back!" He felt a gun in the drawer, hopeful it was loaded.
"Come along, Gregory. You don't want to become more of a burden to the lovely Pines family, do you? Wirtham is waiting for you." Beau spoke lowly but he didn't move from his spot, seeming confident Greg would listen. "He's weak."
"Wirt?" Greg croaked, eyes wide, the veins slowly spreading but he didn't move. He didn't want to go with Beau.
Wirt would find them.
He'd come for Greg.
He'd come HERE.
He always did. Then The Cloud Woman would give him the rest of his soul back. Then he could live and Wirt wouldn't feel guilty anymore. Then they could make more happy memories.
"Just like this old and perceptive gentleman." The vines moved to reveal Ford, blood dripping from his head and barely conscious.
"Don't think I can't tell what you're doing, Little Dipper Pines." Beau's voice was threatening, losing his patience as his eyes looked in his direction. "Gregory, if you don't wish for me to turn this man into Edelwood, I suggest you give me my lantern as I simply let you borrow it. NOW, Gregory." He held out a blackened smoky hand with claws curled at the tips.
Dipper shot, the noise ringing in his ears, but all it seemed to do was get absorbed by the shadows. "YOU BETTER PUT DOWN MY GRUNKLE!" He shot again, aiming elsewhere, hoping to hit something physical as his eyes blazed gold and began to spread to his temples, his protective instincts fueling the burning in his chest.
The noise no doubt began waking the others in The Shack. "RELEASE HIM!"
Greg looked to the blazing lantern in his tight grip, his heartbeat louder than the ringing from the gun and his breath coming out in short bursts. 'Wirt…where are you?'
Lorna and Wirt came upon The Mill, seeing Aren on the chair on the porch, knitting.
"Aren! Where's The Woodsman?" Wirt yelled as they hurried, his eyes iridescent as the longer he was without his lantern, the closer The Siren was, the voice in his mind screaming for him to find his lantern.
He saw her get up from the chair quickly, eyes wide. "Behind you!" She yelled.
Wirt didn't have a moment to comprehend the words when an axe was flying passed the side of his face, slicing a small cut on his ear, causing him to stumble and turn fast, Lorna turning quickly as well with a gasp.
To say The Woodsman looked angry would be an understatement. "Stay the Hell away from my daughter, Siren!"
Wirt gulped. "Wait, wait, wait! Woodsman, I'm not The Siren anymore…for now." He whispered that last bit, trying to gain his stable footing.
The Woodsman still scowled, getting uncomfortably close. "Have you now? Do you remember what you've done?!" He yelled in Wirt's face.
Gulping on nothing, Wirt averted his gaze. "It's a little fuzzy, but that's not-"
The Woodsman cut him off. "Not your sins you've committed here, but YOU, boy, are the elder brother! He's YOUR responsibility. How dare you leave him alone and vulnerable to The Beast's words? I thought you would fight to keep it controlled so you could protect him!" His face was red with anger.
Wirt's eyes were wide. He felt more ashamed than if his father would scold him. Though he was getting frustrated at not being able to get a word in. "Our mother took him. I-it's in The Beast's territory. He was supposed to be-but that's not impo-"
"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HIM AND YOUR MOTHER ALIVE!" He bellowed, causing Wirt to bristle. "You don't get to choose to stop protecting someone when you're the one who made their lives unsafe. You took your mother's life, her husband's, almost taking your brother's, you don't get to reunite them half-heartedly in death! Do you understand?" The Woodsman huffed, seeming to be done with his scolding. He laid his hand on Wirt's chest, firm and steady.
Wirt's eyes were filled with a budding anger. He knew this. He knew but then he thought he could make it right. He didn't need to be scolded. "You're no better." He ground out.
"What?" The Woodsman asked, looking to the tall creature. "Listen-"
"I WILL NOT UNTIL YOU LISTEN TO ME!" Wirt screamed. His eyes had turned black, what looked like soot running down his cheeks. He shouldn't have been doing this. All he wanted was to ask if The Woodsman knew where Greg was. But he wouldn't be scolded by a hypocrite and someone he trusted. Not then, when something more important was on the line. "I made more than a few mistakes. I'm trying to fix it so don't you dare scold me like I'm your child when you did horrible things when you thought Aren's soul was in my father's lantern. Now. Where is Greg and our mother?"
The Woodsman stopped for a minute before he sighed, patting Wirt's chest, his anger gone in the light of what Wirt said, knowing the young monster was right. "Aren will make you tea while I grab your original lantern."
Lorna looked after The Woodsman as he walked to the house, then to Wirt in confusion. "You had a lantern?" She didn't know what to make of the conflicted look on his face.
"I never thought I'd see this old thing again." Wirt said softly. He didn't touch it. The wood on it was splintering and old, the iron rusting and the rope frayed in some areas. It was old and weak. It wasn't made with care.
The Woodsman sighed. "He left this…when he and your mother went to The Other Side. He gave Greg his. I'm not sure why and he brought up The Cloud Woman, which by him being so happy about it I'm sure it's not a good thing, whether She knows it or not."
Wirt took a moment to process, mostly so then he didn't storm out right then to go after them. Greg was first priority, after all. He couldn't let his loathing for his mother overtake that.
Lorna looked to him worriedly and patted his arm. "Mr. Woodsman. My Auntie Whispers- *cough*- said The Cloud Woman was a -*cough*- being like The Beast."
The Woodsman shook his head. "I don't know much about Her either. Point is, you need to use this to get there. Perhaps your father or brother can fill you in then, if the situation isn't too dire. I will pray this isn't sending you into a trap. Unfortunately…he used your friend's Edelwood. I know you don't like that." He drew a smoke from his pipe. Glancing at Wirt, he saw the young man not reach for or touch the small lantern, though it was his. "Why don't you take it?"
Wirt let out a breath. "It's a normal lantern right now…right?"
The Woodsman just stared and shrugged a shoulder. "Is that a normal flame inside? Is it not the flame of a child?"
Wirt stared at it for a long time before he shakily grabbed the rope and placed it in front of The Woodsman. "Can we…can we fix it? I know I'm short on time, I probably don't have any to beg for, but if this goes out…I don't know what will happen. It needs to be stronger. If-if Greg gets near this-I can't. I can't risk that. Please. Can you fix this?" He shook, eyes not leaving the small flame.
Sadly, The Woodsman sighed, one of defeat. "I'm no blacksmith, nor a carpenter. Only your father would know how to make a Dark Lantern. They've been gone a while already, so I don't believe you have the time you want."
Wirt nodded, after a moment of stillness. He grasped the dingy rope again and held it close to his chest, seeing the flame turn into a purplish-blue than the light blue it was.
"Wirt." Lorna spoke softly, wishing she could comfort him but she was lost on what to do.
He didn't answer as he slowly opened the front door and began to walk out towards Sara's Edelwood, his mind full of what he could possibly do and how he was going to use such a small and weak lantern to get back.
Running his hands gently on the bark, once he reached it, he felt regret and remorse, trying to clear his mind and think.
A passing singing bird caught his attention after what felt like minutes. He grit his teeth, looking up at the sky. "Cloud Woman! I'm not sure if you're there or even care what a wretched monster like me has to say!" He choked on the saliva in his throat as he yelled as loud as he could, unsure if She could even hear him. "I swear on my being, flesh and soul, if you're in cahoots with my father, The Beast, for any reason, HE is not the one you need to be wary of!" Wirt felt his chest was on fire, the heat painful within his skin, under his rib cage. As the flame in his lantern grew brighter, the colors saturated, so did the pain and the light crackling along the bark in front of him. The vines his father left to seal the portal began to crumble away as if they'd been burning in a fire, nothing but husks.
He had to reach Greg. A flash of freckled cheeks and a scar covered with blood on a lip came to Wirt's mind, everything becoming light around him, like the stadium lights at a football game. His body felt hot and his head dizzy. 'Dipper too…I need to apologize to him. Why…does my chest feel uncomfortable?'
The Beast panted, though you couldn't tell from a distance, oil oozing from wounds as his vines held The Pines family high up where they couldn't use their rune-carved weapons. He underestimated the power held in them, the weapons more potent with their souls as a power source behind each bullet and near punch. What worked in his favor was they didn't seem to notice it at all.
Even if he had to consume an enormous quantity of souls, he wouldn't dare be brought down by CHILDREN. "Ha, ha, ha, ha. I didn't come for the likes of you all. I'll leave you alive for now, so, Gregory McLaughlin, hand. It. Over." Each step he took covered the ground in oil, killing everything it came in contact with: grass, tree trunks, flowers.
Greg struggled, cuts along his body as he tried tearing at the vines wrapped tightly against the family around him. They were all covered in bruises, cuts from the vines or The Beast's claws, possible broken bones and oil staining their skin and clothes. The Grunkle's had one black eye each and were subdued in a way where they couldn't even move their hands to reach anything. "Just leave them alone, Beau! I-I'll go. I'll go. You didn't have to go this far! Please, they're only human!" Greg slipped when he was able to snap only one vine from Dipper, the young man wheezing with each pant, fighting to keep his eyes open. He was more battered than the rest, having fought back the most physically.
Greg didn't want that. He never wanted this family to get hurt. "Okay." He mumbled, grabbing The Beast's lantern and began walking towards him.
"Greg, hold on! You don't know what he'll do if he gets it!" Mabel yelled, getting her second wind. "Screw you, you freakish oily-man!" She spat at The Beast, struggling.
The Beast began chuckling even when Greg got closer. "There we are, Gregory. Your mother is waiting for you. No doubt thrilled to see you again in this world."
Greg stopped, eyes even wider, hazel full of fear. "But she's dead." His voice shook. Why would he do that? HOW could he do it?
With the light coming off the flames of the lantern, he could see The Beast grin, fangs large and tainted with blood and oil. "Not as long as she has a vessel."
The air surrounding Gravity Falls stilled, leaves falling silently onto the ground, even far passed the half made barrier The Pines set up and hadn't had time to complete.