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It was inevitable really.
He knew this day would come; his genes left him well below the average height mark for guys his age, whilst Greg had been a bottomless pit for the last several years.
Wirt just didn't expect it to happen so soon. Yet here they were, standing in the dining room after Thanksgiving dinner, just chatting about school and college and life, and Wirt noticed that he had to angle his gaze upward to meet his brother's eyes. That's when the panic set in again.
It sat in his stomach like a rock for the rest of the evening until he could disappear into the bathroom to calm himself, trying to utilize the techniques they the therapist taught him all those years ago to get a hold of himself. Greg didn't notice; he was with his girlfriend and the rest of the family. Wirt sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut to the images of the dark, snowy forest flashing in his eyes. They didn't stop, only growing as he felt pressure build in his throat and behind his eyes and before he knew it Wirt was curled up on the floor, crying, his mind back in The Unknown.
He felt the cold against his face and creeping under his coat. The wind was wipping his hair back and making it nearly impossible to look ahead without feeling tears sting his eyes. The snow made it hard to see and froze his toes. The trees still loomed overhead, like they had since their arrival in The Unknown. But Wirt kept going. This was his fault. He was going to save his brother. Greg needed him, and he'd be a damn fool to say he didn't need Greg. This was his fault. He felt the weight of Greg in his arms, not too heavy, but sturdy and almost reassuring. He missed that feeling. He felt Greg's faint heartbeat against his own chest and heard Beatrice yelling for them. Most of all he felt the terror that he was going to lose his brother, that he would fail him one last time.
His face was wet with tears and he was shaking as he realized that he wasn't back there in the place of nightmares that only involved losing Greg. He was in the bathroom, crying on the floor because he realized that Greg didn't need to be carried anymore.
"Wirt? You in there?" Greg's voice accompanied by a knock.
Wirt quickly stood and wiped his eyes. Despite his growth, Greg was still his little brother, and he was not going to see Wirt cry. "Y-yeah, hold on." He turned on the water and splashed his face, paying no mind to his shaking hands. He was used to that happening after their return all those years ago.
Opening the door he looked up at Greg, who looked down at him and noticed the redness of Wirt's eyes and the shaking hands. Without a moment's hesitation Greg stepped forward and wrapped Wirt in a hug that drained the older boy of the nightmares. Concern laced his voice as he whispered, "Flashbacks?"
Wirt could only nod as tears welled again.
"It's been so long..." Greg mumbled.
"You've grown." Wirt choked out. "I can't carry you anymore."
Greg pulled back and looked Wirt in the eyes, the picture of reassurance. "You don't have to. We are safe. I can carry you this time."
Wirt couldn't stop the flow of tears as Greg pulled him close again and started to sing quietly the one thing that always calmed Wirt down.
"Oh, potatoes and molasses..."