Greg didn't get much sleep that night.

They were keeping him in the hospital, just overnight; Doctor Sinder had given him the all clear and expected him to make a full recovery very soon.

Greg lay there in the clean darkness. He just lay, his eyes wide open, with the horribly sterilised stench of the hospital making his nose wrinkle. The brown dark pressed upon his eyes, hard. He could hear the slow, constant wurring of the air conditioner, and the gentle smattering of rain dancing on the window.

Greg found it really difficult to sleep not in his own bed, in his own home, and without his family. To be honest, the thing he really missed was Wirt's bedtime story.

He knew where his brother was. He also knew that there was only one way to get him back. Greg was young, but he wasn't stupid. He was also a good liar. He knew exactly what the Unknown was- and he didn't plan on telling any doctor about what had happened to him and Wirt there... He knew they wouldn't believe a word of it. They would think he was mental, or that his mind had been damaged in the accident.

But Greg knew.

Finally he managed to cram his eyelids closed and shut off his mind. Slowly, he drifted into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep.

Greg dreamed vividly.

He was back in the Unknown, and so was Wirt. Beatrice was no where to be seen.

Greg was trying to help, but his brother was lying on the ground, screaming in agony; there was nothing Greg could do. As Wirt writhed and yelled, thick branched from the Elderwood trees encased him like a cuckoon. Greg pulled desperately at them, and some became loose, allowing Wirt to sit up and help yank some of them away from his chest and neck, stopping them from choking him at least.

"Thanks, Greg," he panted. "I'm so sorry for everything- I--"

Rippp!!

Wirt's scream wrenched the air and seemed to slice down his throat, rattling his ribs. A huge, ugly black tree branch had burst through the centre of his chest. Greg cried out as thick sap mixed with Wirt's shockingly scarlet blood sprayed everywhere, a waterfall of pain.

"Wirt! No!" Greg sobbed, trying to stem the flow with his hands, but he could see that Wirt was slipping.

"Wirt!" He screamed, holding his brother's head as it fell to the forest floor. "Wirt, no... Please... You can't leave me..."

Wirt coughed, and inky bloody liquid covered his lips.

"Greg..." He whispered. "You were the best brother anyone could have wished for. I'm sorry if I never made you feel welcome. I love you so, so much..."

"Wirt! Oh, Wirt..."

Then he was gone.

Greg sat up in a cold sweat in the crisp hospital bed.

There was a watery, early morning light in the ward. He could hear distant birdsong.

Now he knew for sure that he had no choice. He had to get Wirt back.