Over the Eternal Garden Wall and Into the Unknown

Chapter 12: Brotherly Love

Chapter 12: Brotherly Love

Wirt rushed into the small bedroom, his eyes wide with worry. The terrified brother scanned the area for the cause of the commotion, finally resting on his sibling, who was completely covered by the sheets. The young form was but a simple and unmoving shape in the bed. Wirt's heart dropped in his chest, the realization of what must've happened registering in his mind, cold and foreboding.

"Greg . . ." he whispered, the name escaping his lips as he moved forward, closer to the seven year-old. "Oh, Greg, please be okay. Please don't do this too me. Please." He set his hand upon the boy, feeling a receding warmth from beneath the covers. No, no, no. You've got to wake up. Wake up for me now, Greg. Don't go. Wirt's breath caught in his throat, his thoughts causing him to tear up once more. Not wanting to waste his last shreds of hope, the teen tugged the covers back to reveal Gregory's face.

He breathed a sigh of relief, letting a smile spread across his features. Greg's cheeks were slightly pink, and his skin color was beginning to turn back to its healthy shade, a sign that there was still determination in him to go on.

"You're going to be alright," Wirt deducted, voice soft in his remission. "Thank goodness, you're going to be alright."

o-o-o-o

Beatrice's entire family had came in the room at some point, all either wanting to see the boy or give him something, such as a spare blanket or a bowl of leftover potato chunks for when he was able to eat it. Wirt sat on a chair next to his brother, carefully watching for the slightest twitch or sound. He'd been at it for nearly the entire length of the night, which he sat through with not the least bit of discomfort. It would all be worth it when the wait was finally over. That he was sure of.

Jason Funderburker croaked, snapping Wirt's attention away from the bed. The gnome-dressed boy tilted his head curiously, wondering what it was that he should be noticing. Wirt never found out what exactly was it that alarmed the frog so much after dinner, for the only thing that had changed was the slow recovery of Greg's well-being. Perhaps Jason had only meant to tell Wirt not to give up on him, although the prospect was not once considered past his loyal heartedness.

"What are you getting at?" Wirt wondered, the frog's gestures hard to make out in the shadows, broken only by a lone candle that sat upon a wooden table by the bedside. "Are you trying to tell me something . . . about Greg?"

Jason ribbited his confirmation, hopping up onto Gregory's kettle, which Wirt had placed upon one of the kiddie chairs. The frog made another noise, tapping the metal object with one of his webbed feet, although Wirt couldn't quite grasp Jason's meaning.

"An elephant . . . no. His head is . . . nah. I should . . . make tea?" the brown-haired teen guessed, all of his supposed answers receiving a disagreeing shake of the head. "I dunno. I've never been good at charades. Or talking to frogs."

The amphibian seemed to sigh in annoyance, although it sounded more like an awkward croak than anything. Wirt just gave an apologising shrug, watching as the frog tapped on the pot a couple more times, producing a quiet series of noises. Jason then proceeded to let out a flurry of emphatic sounds from the back of his throat, the familiar 'rorop's echoing off the walls.

Wirt lifted an eyebrow at the frog's antics, unsure of the reason behind the disturbance. What is he up to? He'll wake the entire household, going like that, the boy observed, a flash of inspiration suddenly dawning on him. He'll wake Greg, too, if he were loud enough.

"Oh! I get it!" Wirt beamed, speaking boisterously, in no way taking into consideration the other sleeping members of the mill-house. "You want to make noise so Greg will hear us! Than he'll know that we're here and can try and wake up! It's brilliant, Funderburker! Absolutely brilliant!"