Mabel could hear his screams through her own dreams. It didn't matter if she was dreaming of candy and waddles or her summer romances. They all melted under the sharp sound of his screaming. It used to scare her awake, but now she almost expects it. Normally there's only one, but when she hears the second she lifts her blanket off of the bed and swings her feet over the side. She shuffles her feet as quietly as possible past her brother's bed to the door. He never wakes up, she thought.

Mabel crept down the stairs, her feet were cold against the wooden stairs. She poked her head around the corner to see her grunkle Stan on the couch. His face was twisted with discomfort, lit only by the moonlight from the window.

Stan's eyes snapped open as he jolted from a third nightmare. He gripped the couch with force, nearly ripping off the chunks. His chest heaved has he struggled to breathe. His eyes darted around, reassuring his place in the world. He was, indeed, in his home dimension.

"Grunkle Stan?" Mabel said softly. Stan jolted and his blazing eyes landed on Mabel. It took him a moment before calming down.

Stan visibly relaxes at the sight of Mabel. She is a simple outline in the dark to his bare eyes. He smiles at her under his scruffy beard. "Hey, sweetie. What's got you up so late? Bad dreams?"

"Yeah… Yours…" Mabel said, inching into the room. She didn't want to make any sudden movements that would scare him. Stan looked away from her and rubbed his missing arm, feeling the shame ache through his limb. "But it's okay. I don't mind. I'm up anyways." He squeezed his arm tighter and refused to look at her. She then walked over to him, climbing onto the couch.

Stan smiled a gentle smile, raising his arm to stroke her moonlit hair. "You're not a good liar, kid. We gotta work on that." She nuzzled into his hand.

"What are your nightmares about grunkle Stan? What's behind that portal that scares you so bad? You're the bravest person I know. What could possibly scare you?"

"If they're so scary why would I pass them on to you? My monsters are mine to bear." Stan tousled her hair. The loose strands appeared to be a spider web in the light, thin threads bend and knit together to create a net of hair.

Mabel pulled at her blanket around her face, tight, like a cocoon. "That doesn't mean I can't help. You're not alone, grunkle Stan. I've seen monsters too. Maybe not as bad…"

Stan took her hands and squeezed them. "Hey, kiddo, it's okay. We'll face 'em together, okay?"

Mabel then wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. She buried her face in his chest and shifted to get more comfortable. Stan wrapped his good arm around her and held her just as tightly as she held him. He tried to close his eyes, tried to drift off into a deep sleep. But nothing could keep them closed. He lies awake, starring at the ceiling, hearing nothing but the sound of Mabel's soft breathing. He thought about being home, being warm and full, being comfortable for the first time in thirty years. These little luxuries that were common place to him now seem like excess. He has to wonder when his life is going to change again.

She started murmuring, obviously she had fallen asleep. He listened carefully. It was utter nonsense. But it was good nonsense, sweet nonsense. His nonsense was angry and scared. Hers sounded like she was having a magical adventure in distance lands. His are the sounds of actual, magical, distant lands, and the horrors that ensue when things are strange and new and you don't know how to survive in them.

Stan held his breath for a moment, judging what to do, wondering if she was sleeping deep enough.

"The first thing I saw on the other side was this big red thing with hands on its head and two pairs on its sides. Boy was that thing ugly. I still see his face…"

Stan went on to count the creatures he saw. By morning, ran out. He was finally able to sleep.