"Mabel, you've been in bed all day," I groaned, my voice cracking. Stupid puberty voice.

"I'm just...," she yawned, sitting atop her pink blanket. "I'm not feeling it today." she grabbed her pig and pulled him onto the bed with her, squeezing him tightly. I approached her, the attic floor cracking beneath my feet. I sat on the edge of her bed.

"We can get some ice cream," I said. I would have given anything for her to be in the great mood she seemed to always be in before she became this way. I poked her stomach, and she groaned a bit, as if it had hurt her. "Or we can, you know...hang out with Wendy and the gang."

I looked down, and she was sound asleep. It didn't alarm me much. Sometimes, she tired herself out from being...Mabel. Except this was happening a lot lately, now that I thought of it. I missed hanging out with her, but she hadn't been quite herself for about a month now. It raised a few red flags, but not enough for me to do anything. It was probably the Summer heat.

If anything, Waddles was acting a bit strangely. He was more clingy to Mabel than usual. Was that normal for pigs?

I looked down at my sister with a sigh. Now that I thought about it, she seemed to have lost about ten pounds. Gee, maybe something was wrong. Was she depressed? Some sort of eating disorder? Something had to be making her feel like this. It hadn't happened the previous year. But we had grown a lot since then. It felt as if we were twelve ten years ago, but it was only last Summer. Actually, she hadn't grown at all physically, and I was about an inch or two taller than her now. She didn't seem to mind, though. She was slightly more mature now, but still the sister I knew and loved, only until recently. Now, she was losing touch with the world. Including her friends, and more importantly, her family.

I brushed my hand through her hair, but to my surprise, her head was a bit warmer than it should have been. I placed my hand on her forehead, and she had a fever. It wasn't a bad fever, like she sometimes had when she was little, but it was probably somewhere around a hundred degrees. It was definitely enough to concern me, though.

Waddles let out a low grumble, and I pulled my hand away. He didn't want anyone near her at all. This wasn't common for him. He was usually laid back, and never protective. I didn't think he knew how to be protective. But I just wanted to know why he was this way all of a sudden.

"Kids, dinner!" I heard Stan call from downstairs. I tried to shake Mabel awake, but she smacked my arm lightly, mumbling something. I shrugged it off and proceeded downstairs and into the kitchen. I took the freshly microwaved TV dinner and sat in the living room. Stan sat in his favorite chair, eating his dinner as he watched an MMA fight. He turned to me, a puzzled look on his face. "Where's your sister?"

"She's asleep."

"Asleep? It's only seven," he replied, scratching the back of his neck. "She's been acting a little strange."

"I know," I agreed, beginning to fidget around. "I'm a little worried."

"I'll say. I need her in the shop."

I looked up at him. I knew he cared about her well-being, but I couldn't help being bothered by his lack of concern.

"You mean, you're not worried that...you know, maybe she's got the flu or something?"

"Nah, she's fine. I've had the flu, and that's not it. I think it's just her hormones getting all out of whack. That's what happens to girls her age, right?" he looked around as he pondered the subject. "She still likes boys, right?"

"Yeah," I said flatly. Something about him was pissing me off that day, but he'd been worse. I just wanted him to care as much as I was beginning to. "She has a fever, though."

"Probably just the heat, you know. We'll go to the pool soon."

I looked down at my food. I had only taken a few bites, but I had already lost my appetite. Without a word, I put my food into the fridge, took a pink Popsicle from the freezer, and walked up the creaking steps. Mabel was sitting on the edge of her bed, blowing her nose. She had a few tissues beside her, and each one was stained with blood.

"Mabel, are you feeling alright?" I asked. I handed her the Popsicle. "Here, Sis."

"Th-thanks," she moaned, opening it and taking a few licks. She seemed more frail than usual, like it hurt to move. "I'm alright. It's probably just that growth spurt I've been waiting for."

"I hope so," I said. I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "You'll feel better soon, I promise."

I had never broken a promise before.

"Thanks," she yawned. She curled up and closed her eyes again.

"Wait, don't go back to sleep," I said, almost begging. "I know, why don't you invite the girls over? O-or we can make popcorn and watch a movie downstairs!"

"Dipper...," she groaned in response. "I'm tired. I should really get some sleep..."

"Just try to stay awake, okay? You won't feel any better if you lie around. I'll make it worth your while. It'll be fun."

"Well, okay," she said. I took her hand, but Waddles crawled between us. I could swear he shot a glare at me.

"Come on," I grinned. She smiled for the first time in quite a bit, and for a moment, it was like I had the old Mabel back. I helped her stand up, but she groaned in pain. "Are you okay, Mabel?"

"It...hurts...," she said, her legs shaking.

"Can you walk?"

She took two steps towards me and collapsed. I caught her before she could hit the floor.

"S-something's...wrong...Dipper..."

I got her back into bed and pet her soft, deep brown hair. I loved her hair a lot. It was always smoother than mine.

"Don't worry. You'll be okay. We just...we need to get you some help. I'll go get Stan."

"Wait...don't leave," she murmured. "I need you..."

"I'll only be gone a minute, okay?" I walked back downstairs, and Grunkle Stan was half asleep in his chair. "Grunkle Stan, it's Mabel. Something's wrong..."

"I told you, it's probably-"

"She can hardly walk. Her nose is bleeding like crazy. I know something's wrong. Please."

"Alright. Fine," he sighed, stretching as he stood up. I led him upstairs, and Mabel was curled into a ball.

"See?" I said. It was hard to think that he believed she was fine. I used to think he didn't believe anything out of me, but he knows I don't just imagine things.

"Kid?" he poked her, and she turned to him, mumbling something inaudible. He felt her head, her sweaty hair, and turned to me. He seemed more concerned than I'd ever seen him. I mean, he had a look of fear in his eyes that was almost indescribable. He knew this was serious. For some reason, I didn't feel she was in danger. The weight of the situation hadn't quite donned on me.

"Well?" I looked at my great uncle, and he seemed just as confused as I was.

"We'd better get her to a doctor," he said simply. "She doesn't look too good."

I carried her upon my shoulders, as if she was a wounded soldier. We got into the burgundy car, and I sat her on my lap.

"Don't worry...I won't let anything happen to you," I whispered to her. "I promise."