Mabel opened her eyes to a rather disturbing noise emitting from the bed next to her and groaned. A sound like that could only mean bad news. Her brother was coming down with something again. Boy was this summer just full of surprises. The girl had to wrench her body into an upright position in order to just sit up. She looked across the small, shared attic that they slept in to Dipper's bed. Only the top matted tuft of his brown hair was visible but Mabel did hear him cough weakly again. She swung her legs over the edge of her own mattress. "Dipper?" she kept her voice low and soft as she tiptoed over to the side of his bed. She saw the faint rise and fall of the suddenly small lump beneath the big, blue quilt. In that moment he looked so peaceful and vulnerable that Mabel decided to let him sleep just a little longer.

She was about to turn and crawl back onto her bed when just then the door nearly flew off of its hinges. "Kids!" their great uncle burst in nearly shrieking. "You will never believe what I found."

Mabel winced a little at his obnoxious volume but was very eager to know what had him so worked up, "Is it explosive costume jewelry?"

"Close," he put up a finger, eyes bright and still grinning widely without noticing his nephew shivering still under the covers. "I was able to bribe Soos's grandmother to hand over his diary!" He took a teal-colored booklet out from behind his back and presented it to her.

Mabel studied it closely, "'Do not open under any circumstances, please. Property of Jesus Ramirez. If lost, please return.'"

"I haven't looked in it all the way through yet," Stan continued to brag. "I wanted to wait to show you and Wendy. We just need to keep it away from Soos. Who knows what he'd do to his poor Abuelita if he ever found out?"

The brunette took the diary into her own hands and felt along the spine the leather binding. Then the features of her braced face contorted into a smile huge enough to push to boundaries of her head dimensions and rival that of her grunkle's. She hurled herself nearly four feet into the air, screaming, "Oh my god, Grunkle Stan! We have to cancel Soos's shift and call Wendy over right now!" She noticed the lump covered by Dipper's bed sheets squirm just the slightest bit. Her expression sobered up a little at that and her voice quiets again. "But, uh, maybe we should leave the room. Dipper's still trying to sleep. I don't think he's feeling very well today. He and Great Uncle Ford were out pretty late last night doing who cares what. I'll bet he's just exhausted. We should leave him alone for now and go call Wendy."

It was then Grunkle Stan finally noticed Dipper's limp form on the bed. Mabel could only swear to have squinted and seen his eyebrows knit less than a millimeter together in the most microscopic display of concern. His voice lowered as well, "You're probably right, but we should check to see just in case anything's wrong. In the meantime, I'd like to have a little talk with my own brother concerning what I warned him about interacting with you two..."

"Grunkle Stan, please don't!" Mabel begged him abruptly. She shoved Soos's diary back into Stan's hands and began to direct him and herself out of the room. "You guys should really try cause anything that might start a fight especially when Dipper's sick."

"The whole reason he is sick is because Ford kept him out past curfew in the first place! He of all people knows exactly how threatening this town is to a kid's life. They probably went through that one-hundred-acre thorn patch where the thorns are stuck to the point with poison and Dipper got pricked or some crazy crap like that!"

At that moment a raspy voice so quiet neither Stan nor Mabel could hear it fully made itself known, "No...D-don't blame him...hngn...It'ss not his fault." The boy's words slurred and he looked at neither of them. Instead he held his head in his hands, his soppy hair flopping over his face to cover any giveaway expressions. But he looked as if he were holding it in pain. What could be wrong? Both Mabel and Stan inwardly glanced around the room to confirm that neither of them had turned on any bright lights since Mabel awoke. It was the morning sunlight that was just beginning to filter through the attic window down to its floorboards that pierced his eyes. The eyes were especially sensitive given the current state he was in. It took all he had just to groan and wave off the disturbing scenery around him pounding into his head.

Stan came forward, worry very clearly painted on his face, "Hey, kid, uh...you okay there? I won't blame Ford if you really don't think it's his fault. Hey." He knelt down beside the bed and reached over to pat his great nephew on the head but just as quickly pulled his enormous, ancient hand away after gasping. Dipper moaned and clutched his hair. Mabel was beginning to grow fearful and hurried up to join the two of them.

Her giant eyes suddenly glistened to the brim when she looked up desperately at her uncle, "Grunkle Stan, is he gonna be alright?"

Stan placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled, "Yeah, it's just like all those other times he got sick. We'll just let him rest for a while and give him medicine later. But today I think I found the perfect use for this diary in light of Dipper being out of commission..."