Part 4#

(Rated K) Mouth: Wendy admired how smart Dipper was. She found his rambling cute, most of the time. But sometimes, she got sick of how much he would worry himself. At the very least he could keep it within. But no, instead he rattled off issues and theories without regard for her interest. Finally, she could take it no longer and did the one thing she knew would shut him up.

She leaned forward, and kissed him.

He stared at her in wonder as she pulled away and smirked. "Not bad for a nerd Dippingsauce…not bad at all."

(Rated T) Crash II: Dipper helped his girlfriend out of the rubble, feeling slightly woozy as he descended the uprooted ground. His legs ached and he heard Wendy say something as the world began to slow down. There was concern in her voice, and he smiled, before a sickening feeling took hold and he fell forward.

He heard a scream as he slammed against the pavement, and the last thing he heard was Wendy's scream.

When he awoke, he was lying in a hospital room, Wendy by his side. "Oh thank god you're awake!" She stopped herself from hugging him, for fear of brushing his bruises, and he responded with a smile. "I'm fine…you're fine…I thought I'd at least be dead…" Wendy smiled slightly, "Of course you're alright. You…you're tough. Tougher than you give yourself credit for. Not as tough as me of course…" He chuckled, and she exhaled to see him almost back to normal. "When there's an emergency you always know what to do Dipper. It's one of the reasons I love you." By the time the words had left her mouth, Wendy realized that she had said the L word. He grinned even harder at the revelation, and shifted slightly.

"You know…maybe it's because I've been thinking it since I was twelve years old…or maybe it's the morphine talking…but I love you too." She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. "I know you do."

(RATED T) Desk: "Dipper…"

Looking up from his work, the investigator noticed his wife standing in the doorway. Her light purple dress sagged as she leaned on the door frame, and her once beautiful face seemed marred by fatigue. "Please…come to bed."

He looked her up and down, her hourglass figure, bright blue eyes, and extended arms the picture of comfort. Then he returned his gaze to the work, and spoke in a hushed tone. "In just a moment…" Her sigh was extremely audible. "Dipper…it's late. You've worked all day long, you had dinner here in the study. Can you please come to bed?" He glanced up again, and noticed that she was now standing in front of the desk. Grabbing the photos and files almost guilty, Dipper averted her gaze. "I just need…" She placed a hand on his shoulder and their eyes locked. "Come. To. Bed." After a moment, he conceded. "Alright, I'll be there in five minutes."

She raised an eyebrow. "Promise?" Dipper nodded and half stood to press his lips against hers. The resulting kiss had barely any passion behind it, and it left Dipper feeling even guiltier when he sat back down. She meandered back to the door way, and cast one last sorry look at him, before disappearing into the darkened hall. He looked back up and grew a determined look, "I promise." She gave him a weak smile before disappearing into the darkness of the hall. The detective returned to his extensive re-search, he glanced at the picture of his wife as he began filing them. Her blonde locks melted into the sunset glowing sunset as she gave the camera a smile.

Turning back to his work, Dipper placed the information into a large file, before grabbing a red marker and writing "WENDY CORDUROY: DISSAPEARENCE" on the file, in big red letters. Then he opened the drawer and was about to place the file inside one of the desk drawers, when hesitation struck. Re-opening the file, he began to re-check the evidence, deciding to list the notes alphabetically instead of chronologically, in an attempt to try and jog some new connection in his exhausted brain.

His wife, found him the next morning, his head resting on a pile of photos, all of them sporting the same smiling redhead.

(RATED k+) Garden: She loved nature, and hated the idea of moving into a house with away from the forest. So they compromised, getting a house with a large lawn. Every day she came home from work, and worked on her garden. After two months, Dipper found practically a jungle outside his house. Which he didn't mind, because his wife tended to it, and nurtured every plant, until the menagerie was lush and beautiful.

There was a myriad of vibrant flowers, which formed a sea of color form their bedroom window. He would often bring tea or lemonade down to her on the weekends, and they would enjoy lunch (or even breakfast) basking in the shade of the apple tree. Smiling, they would spend hours discussing and joking, surrounded by the foliage. They would watch the sun go down from the top of the tree, and enjoy the sun.

When she left on a business trip, he said goodbye to her in the front of the garden, and watched her car disappeared from sight. He cultivated the garden in her absence, almost to an obsessive degree.

He cried under the tree after her funeral, and continued to tend to her garden for many years after her death.

(RATED M) Suicide II:

Her father told her not to come. He told her that she would just make it worse, he said that she was the reason that the "weak boy" tried to kill himself in the first place.

She wasn't sure that she could forgive him for saying what she had been afraid to think.

But she knew she had to come. A nurse brought her out to the patio, where Dipper was sitting. Seeing him in a gown made her heart sink. She was fine with the idea of him being in an institution, as long as he didn't look like one of them.

He greeted her with a smile, and she had to wonder if he was currently drugged out. "Dipper we have to talk…" He chuckled, "We already are talking." Wendy sighed, feeling stupid for not anticipating how difficult this might be. "Dipper, can you please be serious for a second…"

"May. MAY I be serious…you should ask."

She reached out and gripped his hand. "Dipper. I know what Brock did to you." He flinched at the name of Wendy's boyfriend. He kept his vision on the flowers nearby. "Oh?" She squeezed his hand, and pressed on. "I broke up with him of course…and he's been arrested for assaulting you." Dipper refused to look up, his face the picture of *. "Dipper…I want you to know that the things he told you…they were a lie. And I want you to know that if I had EVER known how psychopathic he was, I would never have let him near you."

Dipper shook his head, "It wasn't him." Wend straightened up, "What, but I thought…" Dipper looked up, and his red eyes focused on her. "It was the kicking and the beating, or the mocking and humiliation…" Please don't say it was seeing me with him. "…I have been beaten up my whole life Wendy. I have had my face shoved in the dirt so many times…Brock wasn't even the worst." She chocked on her own relief.

"I thought I had finished with all of that bullshit Wendy, but I still can't stand up for myself. I still need my sister to patch me up when I get home…you don't know what that feels like, you've always been confident and awesome…and you're a girl. I'm supposed to be there to protect my friends, and I couldn't defend you from that lunatic any more than I could defend myself. I felt useless. And now I'm nothing but the black sheep of the family, become financial burden."

Wendy reached over to his shoulder, and pulled him close. "Dude, you are anything but useless." He cried softly as she tried to quell her own regrets. He needed her right now, she could blame herself for this later.

"You saved Mabel from that deranged nine year old, you showed me that Robbie was liar, and you saved you great uncle." He didn't respond, simply twitching against her form. It's gonna be alright buddy, I am going to put you back together.

Keep the prompts coming!