It's a long time before either brother speaks.

Wirt spends a while struggling to form words, his attempts only succeeding in barely audible noises. Before he's able to properly say anything, Greg speaks up.

"Why…?"

Wirt pauses his attempts.

"Why are you… why are you here? Again…?"

Greg's voice is quiet, so much quieter than Wirt can ever remember him being. His breathing is shaky and uneven, and Wirt can hear his heartbeat. He's scared. He's scared, but yet he's still here, clinging tightly to Wirt, tears soaking into his cloak. Wirt doesn't know what to say, to do, to be, to make things better. There's no quick fix this time, no easy way out. No frog to name and Beast to vanquish to save the day. No scissors to lift the curse.

He takes another breath. "I'm…"

"I'm sorry"

All he has is the truth. Nothing else. No convenient excuse. It'd be too late anyway, because he's seen him. He knows, at least in some form.

"I didn't think… I didn't think I could stay at home. Not like… I couldn't stay. I couldn't. And I, I thought if I said something… I couldn't say something, not anything true. I couldn't say anything, because they'd hate me… you'd hate… or no one would understand, and then… So I left, and I didn't want this to… I didn't want you to see me this way, I don't want you to feel… I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Greg, you don't deserve this, I love you but I couldn't stay, not like this…"

He carefully lifts his hand and lays it upon Greg's head, stroking his hair as his breathing evens out. Eventually Greg responds.

"I don't hate you." He whispers. "You're my favourite brother. My best brother I ever had."

Wirt laughs shakily. "I'm your only brother."

Greg pulls his face away from Wirt's shoulder. He stares into Wirt's eyes with a somber expression. "You're my favourite, even if you're a tree, or a ghost, or if you were a bluebird or a frog." Wirt goes still.

"I'm… not quite a tree. I think?" His expression changes from panic to confusion, and Greg smiles slightly. "Well you're not a bluebird…" he chimes.

"If only I was, then I'd just use the scissors…"

"What if you found magic tree scissors? Like gardeners use?"

Wirt winces. "I don't think… I don't think I can risk that. But thank you?"

"Beatrice might have something! She's good at turning into things and back again."

"I'm not sure if I… want to go see her. For her to see me." Wirt sighs. "Look, Greg, are you sure you're… okay? It's just I'm… you know. And you didn't ask me for any more explanations, and I feel like you're not… realising the gravity of this. It's not that I want you to hate me but… shouldn't you kind of hate me?"

"I don't think I should."

"But…"

"Would you hate me? If I had pretty glowing eyes and antlers?" Greg asks, wide eyed.

"What?! No, no of course not Greg, I could never…!" Greg smiles up at him and he realises.

Wirt closes his eyes. "I… thank you. Greg. You're… you're the best brother I could ever have"

Greg laughs "I'm your only brother!"

—

Eventually Wirt and Greg rise from the floor. Greg looks around the carriage in awe. He examines the empty driver's seat, waving his arms over it as if to check for an invisible person. His eyes light up when he realises it's empty, and he jumps into the seat in excitement.

"Look Wirt, I'm a train driver!" Wirt smiles fondly, before a thought occurs to him and he frowns.

"Wait, Greg. You were with Beatrice, right?"

Greg turns away from the window to look back at him. "Yeah! She was looking for you!"

Wirt feels a creeping dread. "Why was she looking for me? What did she say about me?"

Greg thinks for a moment. "She said that she heard about a strange boy who'd been talking about a train. She thought it was you because you're strange too. " Greg pauses a moment, considering. "Beatrice said some weird stuff about this train. She seemed really scared of it. Why are you on a train, brother of mine?"

Wirt startles. "It just kind of… found me, I suppose? Honestly, I'm not really sure what exactly is going on with the Train. I heard some stories and I think… the Beast used to use it to take people. But… it's safe now. It should be safe now. I think." He buries his face in his hands. "Oh, Beatrice must be so worried about you. If only I hadn't run again." Wirt takes a deep breath. "We need a plan. To get you home and safe, and to let Beatrice know that you're safe… oh no, she needs to know that I'm safe too, doesn't she?" He groans loudly, leaning back against the wall of the carriage.

Greg stands up on the seat and and raises both hands in the air. "So then we show her that you're safe! She won't mind your cool eyes, I'm sure of it! She's our friend!" Then he fully processes Wirt's words from earlier. "Wait a moment… I'm not going home! Not without you or Jason Funderburker!" His expression turns slightly mournful as he remembers the loss of his frog.

"But Greg, I can't go home like this."

"Well I'll just have to stay then! It's more fun here anyway." He hops down from the driver's seat and takes Wirt's hand in his. "It'll be an adventure! We could go visit Uncle Endicott or Jason's friends on the ferry, or go see Lorna and Auntie Whispers! Remember? Lorna wanted to see you again, and I still need to return that bell that Jason ate!"

Wirt stares down at him. "You brought the bell…?"

"Yeah! I have it in my pocket every day, in case I meet any demons or ghosts! I had to keep it secret though, because once the teacher caught me ringing it at a kid in class and confiscated it for the whole day." He pouts. "That boy was definitely a ghost, no way any human could know that much about history…"

Wirt shakes his head slightly to clear it. "Right. Yeah, actually… bringing that bell around is a good idea Greg, well done." He shifts to look out the window as he thinks. "You know… maybe visiting Lorna and Whispers would be good. Witches would know all sorts of things about curses. They could fix me!" His face falls. "Though that's assuming they don't send some sort of banishment spell or curse my way for how I am…" He closes his eyes. "No. It's the best option we've got."

He reaches for the old chain, and pulls it. The familiar eerie tune echoes throughout the Train as it speeds off to its next destination. Wirt watches the blur of trees and plans his words carefully. He can't afford for this to go wrong. Not with Greg here.

—

Beatrice has spent the last few hours pacing Pottsfield's central barn in increasing frustration. Enoch had seen what happened to Greg, leaving his house to escort them to the edge of Pottsfield and catching sight of the boy being pulled into the Train. He'd agreed to help her in what ways he could. The boy had been pleasant to be around, and several of the town's skeletal residents had quickly warmed up to him.

However, very little could be done when the Train was involved.

"If we could just find a pattern to where it stops!" Beatrice gestures wildly at the cat mayor and the small group of skeletons who volunteered to help. "We could go there, get Greg… if the Beast is there, well he may have the Train once more but I know how to kill him…"

Although it hadn't worked, had it? Wirt blew out the Lantern but the Beast still remained.

There was a chance that the Train was operating of its own accord. There were records of it doing so in the past, although it was uncommon. It seemed unlikely though. After all, what would cause it to become more active now, after being absent for years?

Enoch speaks up. "There's no such pattern I'm afraid. If anything, the Train's movements seem erratic and unorganised… inexperienced in a way." He speaks solemnly. "Back when the Train was more active the Beast would use it to collect lost souls. It would only ever stop where he needed it to, right near whichever unfortunate person had caught his attention. This new behaviour from the Train is… odd, to say the least."

Beatrice kicks a hay bale, then flinches away at the resulting burst of hay in her face. "We need something! Greg could be dead by now and I'm sitting here doing nothing!" Her words catch in her throat and she stops to breathe, furiously wiping at her eyes. A skeleton steps forward carefully and offers her a handkerchief. She takes it wordlessly and hides her face in it.

Enoch pads over, nudging her leg for attention. "I do have an idea. There's no guarantee it'll work, but if the Train still seeks lost souls… becoming one yourself could attract its attention."

Beatrice gasps softly. "I'd be bait… to lure the Train… that could work!" She frowns again. "But if it doesn't then I'll just be lost for no reason."

She turns to look out the barn door towards the distant train tracks.

"It's a risk I'll have to take."

—

They arrive at a small, overgrown train station. In his time aboard the Train so far, Wirt has never seen the Train stop at an actual station. The sight is disconcerting.

Wirt knows that this is the right place though. The Train had taken him right where he needed it too.

Him and Greg step out of the Train carefully. The station isn't much, a few posts strung with woollen decorations and a wooden platform that's starting to rot away. Wirt can see old bloodstains soaking into the wood and wool. Thankfully, Greg seems to be oblivious to it.

They start off along a small path for a while, before Wirt leads them off track through the trees.

"Haven't we got to stick to the path, brother of mine?"

Wirt turns back and takes Greg's hand in his own. "It's fine, Greg, I know the way. The path… doesn't go anywhere good."

"Oh, ok! Say Wirt, do you think Auntie Whispers will still have all those turtles? I never did get one of my very own…" Greg looks longingly off into the distance.

"…You can't steal a turtle, Greg."

"I could adopt one! Like they do at the cat place we got Mitty from!"

"Mitty's a cat though. You can't adopt turtles… well actually I think you can maybe? But that's beside the point. Whispers isn't running a pet shelter, she eats them. Sorry Greg, I don't think you're getting another pet today." Wirt slows as he sees the house ahead.

It's fine. It's fine. You know them. It's fine.

He takes a breath. Checks that Greg is okay. Then they both walk up to the door and knock.

—

Lorna answers the door, her eyes going wide at the sight of them. Wirt instinctively starts to back away. Then her face breaks into a smile and she calls for Whispers excitedly. Wirt has a moment of frozen confusion before him and Greg are pulled inside. Whispers glides over and puts a hand on his shoulder, steering him and Greg to a seat. He sits, uncomfortably aware of his appearance and unsure how to proceed. He hadn't prepared for them welcoming him.

Lorna speaks. "Wirt, Greg, I am so glad to see you again! I was never sure if you found your way safely…" She takes a seat next to Whispers and smiles. Wirt sees Greg trying to pocket a turtle that's crawled over and silently stops him, before turning back to Lorna.

"I'm… glad to see you too. Is this… okay?" He mumbles, lost for words.

Whispers looks at him with concern. "Of course it's okay child, after you vanquished the spirit possessing my dear Lorna visitors are welcome here!"

Wirt shifts uncomfortably. "I meant about the…" he waves his hands vaguely. Greg takes over.

"Wirt thought you wouldn't like him because he's a tree person now. May I have a turtle?" He holds up yet another turtle that's found its way over to them.

Whispers blinks.

"Oh. Oh, child, you needn't worry." She stares into Wirt's eyes. "We heard of the new Train Conductor weeks ago, at the monthly coven meeting. We didn't know it was you, but we knew that whoever they were, they were a benevolent Conductor." Lorna leans forward and places her hand on his.

"Wirt, finding out the Conductor is you is even better. I never thought I'd see you again, and now here you both are!"

Wirt frowns.

"But… how did you know that I was safe? Or, how did your coven know?"

Lorna laughs. "One of the oldest members of our coven, Gertrude the Insightful! She said she met you? She's a powerful witch, though her abilities focus mostly on visions and intuition. If she says someone's trustworthy, then I believe her."

Wirt's eyes go wide.

"Wait, Gertrude? I remember her! She told you about me?" Wirt feels tears threatening to spill over. He hadn't expected them to all be so nice. "She knew? What I am…?"

Whispers and Lorna share a look.

"She told us about the Beast-that-wasn't, the sweet young man who brought the news of the Train to her village. She could tell that your story was a lie, and could see your true identity, but she could also sense your intentions, your feelings."

Whispers leans forward, eyes wide, as she continues.

"Though she never told us a name. We wouldn't have guessed the Conductor was you, dear child, and I am so very glad! You saved my Lorna, and I am eternally grateful. Should you ever need anything, just ask, okay? I'd be honoured."

Greg shifts impatiently.

"Funny that you should mention that Auntie! I very much need these five turtles of yours, please!" He holds up the five turtles that he has indeed managed to collect. Several more seem to have gathered under the seats, a few scrabbling at the chair legs as though trying to climb.

Whispers' eyes widen even further.

"How could I have forgotten about the turtles! Oh dear, they must be trying to return to you, young Conductor."

Wirt pauses, halfway through confiscating Greg's handful of turtles. "…what?"

"Did you not know that the turtles belonged to the Beast?"

"No, I did… I just never really thought about what that… means…" He stares into the eyes of the turtle currently in his hands. It stares back.

"Wirt! I can help you come up with a really good name for that turt if you want! I'm thinking… Tubbs Tarbell?"

"Greg, we talked about this. You can't just take other people's turtles…"

Whispers coughs slightly.

"Actually, since they do now belong to you… you probably should take them."

"But don't you want them to uh… eat?"

"Ah, there's plenty of other turtle types out there. I only ate the Beast's turtles because it was said to help protect against his magic's influence. That is, when they're prepared correctly. Eating one without the right preparations and enchantments is said to bring a terrible fate."

Wirt shudders. "Yeah. I know."

Uncertainly he lifts the turtle in his hands and and gently sets it upon his shoulder. Greg squeals in delight and begins lifting the turtles from the floor, giving their shells a kiss before putting them down on his lap. The turtles seem to have calmed down a bit, no longer desperately trying to reach Wirt.

Wirt taps his hand against his leg as he tries to remember what they'd last been talking about.

"Ah, actually Whispers, I did have something I'd like some help with, if that's okay?"

"Of course, just ask!"

"Right… is there…?" He takes a breath. "Is there a way to make all this…" he gestures at his head wildly "…go away?"

Whispers frowns in contemplation.

"No one knows entirely how the Beast and his role worked, I'm afraid. You do not wish to remain the Conductor?"

Something in Wirt feels hollow at the thought. He shivers.

"I… need to be there, for Greg. To take him to a friend of ours, and to get him home. Like this… I don't think everyone will be as accepting as you have been."

Whispers nods. "Ah right, I understand. I cannot change what you are… but I believe I can make an amulet with a transformation enchantment. It would be able to shift the more… inhuman parts of yourself away. Although you would still remain the same inside."

Wirt stares at her in awe.

"Yeah that's… that sounds really good, thank you. Is there anything you need to make this amulet?"

She thinks for a moment.

"Some Edelwood oil would be necessary… I believe there's one nearby, if you'd be willing to get it for me?"

"Oh! Yeah, yeah of course."

—

The walk to the local edelwood is short. Wirt knows instinctively where to go, and it's not long before he reaches the tree. He'd left Greg with Whispers and Lorna back at the cabin, who were making preparations and gathering the other ingredients. Greg shouldn't have to see this tree.

Wirt leans forward, careful not to jostle the turtle still riding on his shoulder. The oil trickles steadily into the jar Lorna provided. He thinks of the Lantern.

It's safe, he assures himself. He left it on the Train, newly filled. No one else would find it, no one else was going to board the Train any time soon. Yet still a lingering dread remains.

Earlier he'd thought it best to leave it behind, in case Whispers or Lorna tried to extinguish it. Now though, being so far from it makes his insides twist and burn. It hurts.

Not much longer. Not much longer, and he'll be back. It's fine.

Besides, something like this amulet promises to be is worth the wait, worth the pain. He could be normal again, perhaps not fully but at least in some way. He could see Beatrice again, and sort out this mess he's gotten himself into. He might even be able to go home (home…?) and see his family, make sure Greg gets back safely.

Not for long. Not while bound to the Lantern. But at least they wouldn't look at him and see a monster. Only he would know the truth.

The jar is full. He screws the lid on tight, then turns back towards the witch's cabin. His yet-to-be-named turtle companion raises its head expectantly. Wirt pauses, gives a tentative wave goodbye to the edelwood, and then he's off, back to the cabin.

—

Greg has approximately 18 turtles carried in his jumper. He holds the hem up to make something resembling a basket as he wanders the room collecting them up.

He looks up as Wirt returns.

"Ah brother of mine! Your turtles are giving me the run around! Elephant and Beatrice Two and Princess Andy keep disappearing!" He swipes two turtles off a nearby shelf. "C'mon Stanley and Stanford! We've gotta get you home!"

Wirt shuffles awkwardly into the room and several turtles make a beeline for him. He steps carefully over them and places the jar on the table.

"I got the oil…?" He calls upstairs.

Whispers pokes her head down.

"Oh, good, good… we'll just be down in a minute child!"

Wirt sits down again to wait, watching Greg scurry back and forth gathering up turtles.

Whispers and Lorna are back down soon, carrying a cauldron between them. They place it over the fire, and then Lorna runs back upstairs before returning with a basket of ingredients. Greg halts his turtle hunt to come and watch.

First, she takes an old turtle shell from the basket, casting a slightly awkward look at the audience of turtles watching from Greg's jumper. She drops it into the cauldron, along with two drops from a mysterious vial, and it starts to sizzle and melt. She takes the jar of edelwood oil and slowly pours it in while she stirs.

Whispers approaches the cauldron from the other side and casts some herbs in to the pot, then begins chanting something unknown. The liquid within the cauldron bubbles more, turning from black to a shifting blue, yellow, red. It glows softly.

Lorna stops stirring and reaches into her apron pocket. She retrieves an acorn and a small piece of tree bark. She crushes the bark into a fine dust and sprinkles it over the glowing potion. It hisses on contact, before settling into an oil black substance. Whispers removes the cauldron from the heat.

Lorna takes a ladle and pours the mixture into the hollowed acorn, before sealing it carefully. Whispers takes it from her and passes it over a candle several times, muttering another spell as she does. Then she places it down on a plate.

"It'll need time to cool. Would you like some tea while we wait, children?" Whispers starts filling up a teapot.

"Oh, yeah. Yes please. Not for Greg though" Greg shakes his head empathetically, making a disgusted face. Lorna laughs slightly.

"You don't like tea, Greg? What about that teapot you wore as a hat?"

"That was my elephant costume."

"…what's an elephant?"

Whispers returns with tea for her, Wirt and Lorna, while Greg starts wildly gesturing and miming to explain the concept of an elephant. Lorna appears to be entranced by his descriptions.

Wirt sips his tea carefully. He glances over at the cooling amulet. It's certainly powerful, he can feel it from where he is. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but it's hard not to.

The pain in his chest twists sharply and his attention is diverted. He has to get back home, soon. He drinks more, trying to let the burning feel of the hot tea in his throat distract him from the worse burning feel in his chest.

Whispers is now also invested in Greg's explanation of elephants, and the two witches listen with wide eyes as he tells them about the facts he learned from a nature documentary.

By the time Greg's run out of facts the amulet has cooled. Whispers lifts it carefully, then threads it on a cord and offers it to Wirt. He takes it cautiously.

"So I just put it on?"

Whispers nods.

"But be sure not to wear it for too long at a time. It has a powerful enchantment, and that means it may have some big side effects. Particularly with someone like yourself… there's no way to be entirely sure how witch magic works with Beast magic. Your predecessor was not know for sharing his secrets."

"…right." He lifts the amulet up to his neck and knots the cord.

As soon as he finishes the knot he feels wrong. Its magic fizzes and buzzes in his head, an uncomfortable feeling. His head feels oddly light, and he wonders if he's about to pass out. Then he realises that it feels that way because his antlers are gone. Completely gone, without a trace. He wishes he could feel more than slightly happy about it, but the noise in his head makes it hard to focus.

He manages to thank Whispers and Lorna, who both smile and say they're glad to help. Greg runs off to gather the last stray turtles before they leave, and soon everyone's saying goodbyes. Wirt promises Lorna and Whispers that he'll visit them again soon.

Whispers smiles, though her eyes are filled with worry.

"Stay safe children…" She reminds them as they wave goodbye.

Wirt looks down at Greg.

"We will."

New chapter! Now Wirt has a way of hiding his eyes and antlers, and he also has a whole ton of turtles.

I've changed my username here since last chapter, I used to be Pottsfield CM. I changed it so that it matches my Tumblr username, and hopefully it will make things less confusing.

— Uboacore