Soos called later that day. Dipper woke up a few times before then, the first time when Wendy turned over in her sleep and said something that sounded suspiciously like "Pine Trees." He had been almost been crushed by her weight, and slithered out from under her chest as soon as he regained consciousness. The second, he had been accidently stepped on by Mabel, and the third was when Stan tripped down the uneven third stair for the second time that morning and yelled a curse loud enough to awake even his redheaded friend.

When the phone rang, Dipper was jolted awake in seconds. Wiping away the large amount of drool on his chin and doing his best not to sit on Wendy as he stumbled into a standing position, he started to make his way to the receiver when Mabel beat him to it. She picked up the phone with lightning speed and clicked the answer button like a ninja.

"Hello?" she asked, twirling the cord around one finger as he brother walked unsteadily towards her. He heard somebody shifting behind him and saw that his lumberjack coworker had gotten up, too. She settling into a leaning-on-the-wall position beside him and gave a tremendous yawn.

If the phone's speaker hadn't been so loud, the pair not currently pressed up against the phone wouldn't have heard the voice on the other end at all. However, the machine was old and had an almost painful volume to anybody talking on it, and Soos's voice was incredibly clear even to Wendy and Dipper, who were standing a few feet away. "Oh, hey hambone!"

"Soos?" Mabel's eyebrows lifted in surprise and she stopped her incessant cord-twirling.

"Yeah, it's me! I wanted to call you because I thought you guys might be getting kinda mad I wasn't helping out." The voice on the other end faltered a bit at this statement, gaining an apologetic tone. "I'm really sorry, dudes, but I got like a mega fever and, you know, almost passed out. I don't think I would have been able to fix anything if I tried."

"Oh, you're not the only one to get hit with a case of the-" Mabel blew a raspberry with her tongue loudly, and the young detective could hear chuckling on the other end of the receiver. "Wendy's here right now, actually, because her dad isn't home and Dipper wanted to make sure she had a place to stay. Dorkus himself barfed this morning."

"Aw, poor Dipper," Soos sympathized. "Wendy, too. Hey, could you tell them I told them to get better?"

"Sure!" Mabel grinned. She turned towards the slightly-awkward two, and despite the fact they had clearly heard the request, she shouted, "Soos says you two have to get better!"

"Gotcha," Wendy whispered, while Dipper flashed a thumbs up. Mabel nodded to them before raising the phone back to her ear.

"They said they'll try," the young artist relayed back. "So, are you coming back to the Shack soon at all?"

"Uh, Abuelita says I have to wait until my fever's gone," the man-child responded. Dipper absentmindedly raised a hand to his forehead and felt the skin. It was rather warm, but not what he would consider serious at all. He turned to face the lumberjack girl behind him, who was touching her own flushed face in slight concern.

"You ok?" the boy whispered, reaching up to touch her forehead himself. It was definitely warmer than his. Despite her obvious anxiety, she nodded and quickly removed her fingers. However, she let his linger a bit longer before shooing them off when Dipper failed to.

While the sick pair had been investigating, Mabel had apparently continued to encourage Soos to return to the Shack. They perked up their ears and listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

"...And she said they'd work, so, you know, I'll totally be back soon," came the reassuring tone. "Man, it sounds like you guys have your hands full over there."

"We do indeed," Mabel muttered. "Stan's been giving tours as far away from the Shack as possible. I haven't seen him since breakfast." She paused. "It's not like we really need him here, anyway, but I'd kinda feel better if he was helping take care of these two. They've been asleep all day."

"Hey, uh, Mabel?" Dipper broke in. She paused, holding a hand over the receiver, and cocked her head to show she was listening. "Could I have a turn talking to Soos?"

"Oh, sure!" she exclaimed. "Hey, Soos, do you want to talk to Dipper?"

"Totally!" the employee on the other end of the line agreed. Mabel smiled and held out the phone. The young detective took it and held it to his ear. "What's up, dude?"

"Heh, nothing much." Suddenly, Dipper felt uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. "Just got a little sick this morning."

"Same here, bro," Soos acknowledged. "Except I've just been coughing and stuff. I'm pretty lucky I didn't get that crazy laryngitis thing, because that makes you stop talking." The boy could almost imagine Soos narrowing his eyes on the other end. "Hey, hasn't Wendy been sick since like, yesterday?"

"Um, yeah, why?"

"Oh no, dude, I really hope she hasn't like, lost her voice. It's supposed to start a day after or something. Losing your voice is totally the worst." Soos sounded a bit downtrodden. "She isn't raspy, is she?"

Wendy gave Dipper a rather helpless look. A foot away from her, Dipper could still hear the occasionally rumble of air passing through her lungs. "She is," he replied hesitantly. "But I think she can handle losing her voice."

"Alright, dude." The employee on the other end sounded a bit worried. "Could I talk to her?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

Dipper held up the phone to Wendy, which she took quickly and stuffed under her thick red tresses to where he assumed her ear was. He had honestly never seen her hair in the morning before, and now he really knew the true meaning of bedhead. Her ear was nowhere to be seen underneath the fiery mass. "Hi, Soos," she mumbled. The young detective could have sworn her voice had grown even quieter since he'd spoken to her that morning.

"Hey, Wendy, you ok?" Soos asked. "Dude, I so hope you can still talk."

The lumberjack girl chuckled weakly. "And what am I doing right now?"

"Heh, good point. How's Dipper doing? Mabel said he threw up."

"He's doing a little better." A slight pink tint appeared on Wendy's cheeks, though it was barely visible in the dark of the living room. "He slept on the floor all day." She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, wiping her forehead. The boy beside her noticed that one of her yellow and orange socks was coming off.

"Well, that's good. Hey, I might come by tomorrow. Is that ok?"

"Yeah, Soos, that's ok." She yawned and rubbed her eyes a bit, touching her throat. "You want to talk to Mabel?"

"Uh, ok. Hand me over, dude."

Wendy reached out and handed the phone back to Mabel, who preceded to banter cleverly with Soos about Stan's work habits. Wendy stretched and sat down against the wall, Dipper flopping down beside her. The two watched as the younger boy's sister managed to keep a story going for around five minutes before Soos's grandma called him and he had to go.

"Sorry, guys. I'll see you tomorrow, 'k?" he asked, seeming now to finally realize he was completely audible to the entire room. Dipper nodded, despite the fact Soos couldn't see him. Mabel quickly assured him it was fine before bidding him a polite goodbye and placing the phone back down onto the receiver. She turned to her brother and friend with a big smile on her face.

"Man, I wish Soos could be here right now," she sighed. "How does Stan even run the Shack without us?"

"I guess he just does it the way he did before Soos started working here," Wendy mused, scratching her hat. "I mean, I know he was without a cashier at one point, so I'm really not that much of a loss, and I guess he doesn't need a handyman when nothing's broken."

"Huh. That's kinda weird. Man, Stan must really have his hands full," Dipper lightly sympathized. He groaned and leaned back. "So, what are we supposed to do for the rest of the afternoon?"

The room fell silent. The lumberjack lying beside him shrugged and twitched a sock-covered foot. Mabel tapped her chin in thought before a huge grin set itself upon her face. "Oh my gosh, guys, we could build a pillow fort!"

"A pillow fort?" Wendy asked, her eyes widening a bit with surprise. Mabel nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, a pillow fort! Stan said we couldn't because we 'make a mess of the entire room' last year, but he's not here right now! And we're sick! He can't blame us!" The young artist was on a roll now, tapping her fingers with every reason she shot out. "Pillow forts are awesome! I can't believe I didn't think of this earlier! We totally have to!"

"Ok, ok," Dipper agreed. "Wendy, you up for this?"

"Am I?" she asked, giving him a wide grin before shoving him in the ribs. He laughed a bit before wincing as his stomach clenched, causing the redhead to quickly place a hand on his shoulder. As soon as she was reassured that he was ok, her smile returned and she hoisted herself to her feet. "Let's do this!"

However, the fact that Mabel Pines had neglected to mention was the rather important fact that there were almost no pillows in the entire house. There were two in their room, a few oddly scattered about on the bottom and second floor and one in Stan's room, (they dared not enter,) but that was it. After scrounging around for about fifteen minutes, the three gave up and decided to make it a blanket fort. This proved to be a successful decision.

Dipper and Mabel tugged the blankets off their beds and ran downstairs, placing them onto the ever-growing pile of sheets and quilts Wendy had found in a closet upstairs. They tracked down a few survival fleece blankets in the back of the gift shop, and found a picnic towel lying in the hallway downstairs. Satisfied with the goods, they started to design the fort.

Wendy quickly moved the TV so that they could place blankets over the top of Stan's armchair and weigh them down on top of it, creating a space in the soft shaggy carpet underneath that they could get into. Dipper grabbed a chair from the kitchen to prop up part of blankets and make an entranceway. Mabel, after a few brief apologies to her stuffed animals, took a few plushies from her bed downstairs to construct a wall of sorts in the middle. The entire affair took less than thirty minutes with all three helping.

When they were done, the group stood back and simply allowed themselves to gaze upon their handiwork. It was incredibly messy, but beautiful at the same time. The tangle of blankets stretched between the armchair and the TV looked almost like they were meant to be in the pattern they were currently clashed into, and the chair from the kitchen table didn't look nearly as awkward as the young detective who had put it there thought it would. Even so, they knew that what was on the outside was of no matter.

Slowly, Mabel sank to her knees and crawled into the fort. A shriek of delight rang out as she disappeared inside. "Guys, it's awesome! Get in here!"

Her two partners in crime looked at each other before nearly tripping over their own feet in haste to enter after the exuberant girl. Dipper coughed a bit and sat up once he was inside before his eyes widened.

Of course, it didn't look like much from the inside, but to Dipper, it was the best he could ask for. There was enough space for the three of them to lie down comfortably, and even a designated corner for Mabel's snacks. The two main areas were large enough for them all to pile into one if necessary. He heard the shifting of blankets behind him as his lumberjack friend entered and murmured under her breath, "Whoa…"

"We can camp out in here and wait for Stan to come in," Mabel grinned, reaching under the chair and pulling out three Nyarf guns. "And when he does, we'll hit him with these bad boys!"

"Sounds like fun," Wendy whispered. She closed her eyes and felt her throat before straightening up as much as she could in the fort and grabbing a gun. Dipper's sister reached out and handed the young detective his own gun before taking the final one for herself. Ready to fire, the three hunkered down in the most sheltered area in the fort and began to wait.

The wait, however, was extremely long.

Stan's tours didn't end until five in the afternoon, and they had finished making the fort at three thirty. The group sat in hiding, but they soon began to grow bored. It seemed as though the old conman would never make his appearance. They debated over whether or not to turn on the TV, to make some popcorn or to simply lie and groan while they stood by. It seemed that the latter was the best option.

Finally, they heard the creaking of floorboards and the grunting of the Pine's great uncle from the gift shop. All three tensed, their hands gripping the Nyarf guns and sweat beading on their foreheads. A particularly loud groan and cough sounded from just beside the stairs, followed by a yell of, "Kids? What did you do-"

Instantly the gang started to shoot at Stan's feet, causing him to yelp and hop back towards the stairs as fast as he could. Wendy managed to nail him right on the knee, while Mabel placed a good shot to the back of the shoe. The shriek of alarm the great uncle made was enough to send them into peals of laughter, completely giving away their position. "Kids! What do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry, Grunkle Stan!" Mabel giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "We got really bored!"

"Bored enough to move my TV halfway across the room?" It was clear the man was trying to come off as stern, but he was doing a terrible job. He lifted the top blanket off the fort, exposing the three to light and causing them to hiss. "Wendy, you too? Jeez, I thought you were older than that."

"Never too old to hang out with friends," Wendy croaked back in the most defiant voice she could muster with her limited volume, though her low-pitched chuckles nearly overwhelmed the speech. Dipper nodded earnestly while shoving his gun out of sight next to his sister. Their great uncle simply shook his head and drew himself up to full height.

"You're cleaning all this up," he announced, pulling the dart off his knee and tossing it into their fort. "Wendy, if you want to spend the night again, then I want to be able to actually see the couch."

"Got it, Mr. Pines," the redhead sobered up, holding up her hand in a mock salute. He simply nodded and left the room. A few quiet snickers filled the air when the three realized there was still a dart stuck on the back of his shoe.

Dipper turned towards his two cahorts. "That was awesome," he admitted, wiping off his sweaty brow. "We should probably take all this stuff upstairs, though."

"Agreed," Mabel nodded. She swiftly took up a pile of blankets in her arms and hobbled up the stairs. Her brother yawned and watched her scratch at a new mosquito bite on her arm before grabbing the picnic towel they had been using as a roof and walking downstairs to return it. A few minutes of blanket relocation and Wendy dragging the TV back to the designated spot and the little gang was done.

All three ate dinner that night, though the resident young detective was quite tentative at first. Wendy, on the other hand, looked starved. She dug into her meal like a desert wildcat. Mabel, however, seemed a little hesitant to consume her food. Dipper found himself once again plagued with worry that his sister was going to get sick.

Night soon fell over the sleepy mountain town. Mabel had long since taken a bath and fallen asleep on top of her bed, not even bothering to pull the sheets over herself. She snored louder than usual, irritating her brother, who was trying once again to trace back the cause of the illness in his notes. Briefly he wondered if it would be quieter to go downstairs and sleep on the rug again next to Wendy.

It was all very confusing, he decided. People in town who had gotten the sickness at the same time were strangely never quite near each other, so it seemed rather unlikely that it was airborne, but the amount of people struck down with it in just the past day made it seem as though it couldn't be touch, either. He barely made contact with any of the people in Gravity Falls and had gotten it in a matter of hours. The entire affair was incredibly curious, strange beyond belief…

"Hey, buddy."

The almost inaudible croak from the stairs nearly scared Dipper out of his skin. He turned to face his visitor and blushed a deep crimson when he saw it was his redheaded co worker. She looked over at his notes with an expression of lazy interest. "How's the research going?"

"Um, ok, I guess," the young detective stammered. "Uh, Wendy, you really don't sound so good."

She sighed, and he winced as he heard the air rasp within her lungs. "I'll be ok, Dip," she murmured. "But seriously, you have any luck?"

"Kinda," he whispered, shifting a little as Wendy walked across the room and settled down on the bed beside him. "It's really weird though, because I don't think it's spread by air or contact. That doesn't really leave many options, though. Maybe it's spread by water? There could be something wrong with the water supply, but that's not exactly likely…"

"Huh, that is kinda strange," Wendy coughed. She took a deep breath and leaned against his wall. "Are you feeling ok? You should really get some rest tonight."

"I know," he nodded, feeling a bit more heat enter his cheeks as her warm hand gripped his awkwardly sweaty one. "I feel sorta headachey."

"Know how that feels, dude." For the first time since the fort fiasco, Wendy cracked a weak smile and squeezed his shoulder. Dipper nodded in acknowledgement and closed his eyes, wishing he could solve this. It was almost driving him crazy, not knowing why or how such a disease existed.

"I hope you, uh, sleep well too," the boy whispered.

"I'll try," she spoke under her breath, slowly getting up off his mattress. As she stood up, Dipper couldn't help but feel a slight pang of loneliness. His sister didn't look as though she was going to wake up anytime soon, and he knew all too well that there was a large chance of having another crazy nightmare tonight. However, as he mentally prepared himself for another bout of silence, he suddenly felt pressure on either side of him and opened his eyes.

Wendy had wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight but gentle hug. Butterflies fluttered about in his chest as he felt her bury her nose into his shoulder. With slight hesitation, he reciprocated the gesture and sighed. She was soft and warm.

Soon, the flushed redhead let go of her younger friend. "Sleep well, Dipper," she whispered, walking towards the doorway. He nodded, almost in shock. He missed the feeling of her arms immediately.

As soon as his friend had left, the young detective cleared the papers from his bed and settled down underneath the sheets only. He felt uncomfortably hot. The fever must be kicking in. Touching a hand to his warm forehead he yawned and tried to stretch himself into the coldest places of the bed. Sleep overtook him after just a few minutes of feverish relaxation.

A/N: Whoo, chapter four! Not actually sure what I'm going to do for chapter five… If anybody has ideas, please put them in your review. Ahem. Thanks for reading!