Wirt slowly opened his eyes.

He was lying in the most soft and comfortable bed he had ever felt, his head resting on a fluffy pillow and a light duvet over him.

He was staring up at the ceiling- and there was a ceiling, it wasn't the night sky like usual- trying to remember where he was. He turned over and groaned; he was still really sore. His arms were covered in deep scratches from the tree, which didn't seem to be healing. Maybe he needed blood flow to heal.

Now on his side, he could see the other half of the room, and there was another bed opposite him. He couldn't see who lay in it. Between them was a small window through which early morning sunlight was shining and Wirt could hear birdsong. There was also a bedside table on which a vase of flowers and two glasses of water stood. Wirt suddenly realised how thirty he was.

Sucking his breath in through his teeth, he slowly rose himself up until he was sitting against the wall. He looked at his hands: before they had been pale, bruised and cut. Now they were his normal tan skin tone and both wrapped carefully in bandages. He lifted a stiff hand and picked up a glass of water. His hand shook. He had to grasp the cup in both hands to stop the liquid spilling. Tentatively, he took a sip of water, but coughed and spluttered when he tried to swallow. He tried again, taking tiny drops, but his gullet just didn't have the capacity to take water. It must be damaged, thought Wirt.

Now his head was clearer, he knew he must be in Beatrice's house. It was probably Greg in the bed opposite, and Dipper would be staying elsewhere. Wirt took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling again. What a mess...

What were they going to do about Bill Cipher and the Beast? He knew he couldn't leave The Unknown without destroying them. But if he blew out the Beast's lantern, that's what Bill wanted, so they would have to find another way to defeat him after that. And then once they were home... If they could actually get themselves home... What about Dipper?

Wirt put his head in his hands and drew his knees up to his chest, dispare overwhelming him for a moment.

"Wirt?"

It was Dipper in the bed.

Wirt raised his head and turned to look at him.

"Dipper."

"Are you alright?"

Wirt sighed and looked at his knees.

"No."

Dipper slid out of bed and padded across the room. He gently pushed Wirt over and got into bed with him, slinging an arm around his bruised shoulders.

"Me neither," he murmured. "But we'll alright. We have to be. We haven't really got a choice."

"Huh?" Wirt looked at him.

"I mean," said Dipper, looking at the ceiling. "When we get home... When, not if... We'll just have to go back to normal life. No one will understand this place we've been in, we won't be able to tell anything about it, they'll think we're mental. So we'll just have to put it down to the accident and... Get on with life. We can't tell anyone about Beatrice or the woodsman. We don't have the option if we don't want people to think we're crazy. We won't even be able to tell our families about each other."

Wirt looked at Dipper.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "a few days ago all I wanted was to be home with Greg, and I wouldn't have cared one dot if I had to climb over some boy I'd met here to get home. I wouldn't have cared about not being able to tell my family about you. Now... I'm reconsidering even wanting to go home."

"What?" Dipper asked, stunned.

"I thought," Wirt said slowly, gazing steadily into Dipper's eyes, "that the most important thing was to have me and Greg home, safe. Now, I'm not so sure. I've got someone else I want to keep safe, too. And look- we're safe here, and we're together. What is there for us at home we can't have here?"

"Um- our families?" Dipper said, annoyed. "Wirt, I know it's going to be hard to say goodbye after all we've gone through together, but there is no way in hell I'm not seeing Mabel again. I'm sorry."

Dipper climbed out of Wirt's bed and left the room, leaving Wirt staring at his bandaged hands and wondering why he had got so lost.