/Here, have an Over the Garden Wall oneshot./

Seven years before the day two brothers wandered along a dark and unfamiliar path led by a talking bluebird, one brother sat alone in the waiting room of a hospital. The nine-year-old tapped his foot unconsciously, awaiting the nurse to come out and tell him he could see his mother. He scratched his head under the mess of thin, light brown hair.

"Is there a... Wirt Walker out here?" A nurse asked finally, holding back a giggle.

"Actually, it's Foster."

"Pardon?"

"I kept my mother's name. Wirt Foster." Wirt stood up and joined the giggling nurse.

"Wirt's quite a funny name, isn't it?" She asked.

Wirt didn't answer, but followed the nurse into his mother's room. The tired young woman with hair to match her eldest son's lay in the hospital bed, holding a tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. She looked up when she saw Wirt and her smile brightened. She patted the side of the bed and Wirt sat down.

"Would you like to meet your baby brother, Wirt?" She asked.

"Not particularly, no."

Wirt's mother rolled her eyes and held out the bundle. Wirt pulled the blanket back to reveal a chubby little face with a smile on it and tufts of dark brown hair sticking out from the top of his head.

"Meet Gregory."

The baby reached his tiny little hands out. Wirt let the baby hold his finger and tug on it. He felt a small smile tug at his lips and his heart raise a little bit. He loved the baby, but like heck if he was going to admit that. Their mother shoved Gregory into his arms so fast Wirt nearly dropped him.

"Hey, I don't want to hold the little beast!" Wirt cried.

Lie.

"Oh, come on, Honey. I think he likes you."

"Well I don't like him!"

Another lie.

"Wirt, I know losing your father was hard on you, but this is our life now. Someday you'll grow to love Gregory. I know it."

I already do love him. Wirt hadn't always been to fond of his step dad, but he'd been just young enough when his real father died that he didn't remember all that much about him. All he remembered was the songs he used to sing to him. He didn't want another man singing different songs to him, so he originally didn't like his mother's boyfriend.

Over time, however, Wirt grew up. And while his step dad wouldn't replace the memories he had of his real dad, he still loved him. And even though he hadn't been keen on the idea of having a half sibling he knew - even after only knowing him for half a minute - he loved Gregory, too. But he'd never admit it. There was still a part of him that was bitter.

"I will not." Wirt declared defiantly, handing Gregory back to his mother and crossing his arms.

"Honey, please-"

"Nope nope nope nope!"

Wirt stalked out of the hospital room, pushing past his step dad who took his place on the side of the bed.

"What was that about?" He asked.

"Oh, Wirt's just not very thrilled about the baby. I know he'll come around, though."

Wirt didn't want to hang around the hospital any longer. Especially not to wait for his step dad to drive him back home and give him one of those stupid Family Talks. Instead, he asked the nurse to let his mother know he was going home, and left. Once he'd made his way back home, he went up to his room and got out his journal. The journal where he'd secretly started writing poetry about half a year ago (Both his parents knew anyway, though. No nine-year-old becomes that descriptive in simple conversations just over night, you know), and proceeded to write his secret thoughts about his new brother.

Three years later, Wirt was half asleep when he saw a tiny sliver of light creep across his wall. He turned in his bed to see his three-year-old brother standing in the doorway holding a stuffed frog tightly to his chest.

"Greg?" He rubbed his eyes.

"Hi, Wirt." Greg said sleepily.

"What do you want?"

"I h-had a bad dream. C-can I sleep with you tonight?"

Wirt considered for a moment before pulling his blankets back. Greg toddled over to the side of the bed and Wirt lifted him up and under the covers.

"Mom doesn't need to know about this, okay?" Wirt clarified.

"Okay."

Greg snuggled up into the crook of Wirt's arm and fell asleep. After a moment of making sure his half-brother was asleep, Wirt tightened his grip ever-so-slightly around the chubby toddler and smiled softly.

The next morning, Wirt gently picked up Greg and carried him back to his crib, tucking him in and kissing his forehead before hurrying back to his own room.

Another three years after that, Wirt had gotten stuck with walking Greg home from elementary school every afternoon. The high school freshman walked stiffly with his hands in his pockets while Greg walked loosely, cheerfully, stepping in puddles from the rain.

"You should join marching band," He said.

"Marching band?" Wirt asked. "Why marching band?"

"Because you play clarinet. And you have a crush on the football girl."

Greg teetered along the curb, losing his balance. Wirt grabbed his hand and pulled him back up onto the sidewalk.

"Be careful! And no, I don't have a crush on the football girl. Her name's Sara, by the way."

Sara was the kicker on the football team. She had a friend in the marching band, so she stayed to watch practices a lot. Wirt knew this because sometimes he stuck around to watch the marching band practice, too. Hiding under the bleachers, of course.

"She's pretty." Greg said absentmindedly. "Hey, did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That croak. I think it's a frog."

Without another word, Greg had run off. Wirt chased him until they reached the curb of another street. Greg's toes hand precariously off the edge of the curb, and Wirt grabbed him before he could fall into the road. He pulled his half-brother in closer to his chest and stepped a little ways back.

"Don't do that again!" He scolded. "I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt!"

"You don't?" Greg seemed surprised.

"Of course I don't, you little beast!" Wirt flicked Greg's ear. "What, do you think I don't love you?"

Greg shrugged. Of course he didn't think Wirt loved him. He never spoke to him when their parents were around. He barely even showed him affection when they were alone. Wirt set Greg back down and walked briskly across the street, dragging Greg along with him. Once they were back on the sidewalk, Wirt let go of his half-brother's hand and walked in front of him.

"Hey, wait up!" Greg sped up and caught back up to him.

Wirt stopped and bent down, grabbing Greg's shoulders and giving him the dagger stare.

"I love you very much," He said. "And I'm sorry I don't show it more."

He pulled Greg into his arms and squeezed him as tightly as he could. As tight as he'd ever be able to. Greg smiled and hugged Wirt back.

/Ah, writing that made me feel good. I've never really liked the older sibling infinitely despising their half-sibling until something something something. Throughout OtGW it really seemed like Wirt and Greg loved each other the whole time, but there was still some remaining bitterness from Wirt. It just took a little extra to make that go away./