Another one-shot that popped into my head when I had a bit of writer's block. I probably spent way more time on this than I should've... *Cough cough* five hours *cough cough*.

Hope it turns out okay... This takes place a bit before the twins leave Gravity Falls to go back to their hometown.

I had to spend almost an hour researching hypothermia for this. You'll see why later. Sorry if I got any of the symptoms wrong...

I don't own Gravity Falls.

Twins In Need of Twins

Ford had tried to make Stan feel comfortable, and he'd tried not to argue with him. After all, he was still trying to regain his memories. But sometimes, you can't help but argue.

It wasn't the type of argument that would affect the entire world. It wouldn't destroy the multiverse. No, Stan and Ford were just arguing about what they'd do about the goat that kept randomly wandering into the house.

"Stan, we can't just kill the goat. Mabel would never forgive you."

Stan scoffed. "She'd forget in a day! Why don't we just grab one of your futuristic lasers and shoot the dang thing?"

Ford frowned in annoyance. "Because we can't have the kids not talking to us for the last few days that they're here, and because if we did shoot it, it would leave blood and guts everywhere."

Stan shrugged dismissively. "There ain't nothing wrong with a bit of gore."

"Stanley, I swear, if you shoot the goat, I might shoot you." Of course he was joking, but it was still a threat.

Stan scowled. "Well what do you suppose we do, eh wise-guy?"

"Well, we could develop some kind of defense system to keep the goat and other creatures at bay, all we'd need is-"

"You and your nerd solutions! If you won't shoot the goat, I'll just do it! Where's a gun?"

The goat, Gompers, who had been sitting on the couch a few feet away, bleated in protest. Stan snapped his head to glare at it.

"Oh, shut your mouth, you dumb goat! If you make one more noise, I'll have to-"

He stopped as both Stan and Ford heard footsteps. Soon enough, Mabel was standing in the doorway.

"I heard yelling. What's wrong?"

Ford and Stan exchanged glances. "Uhhhh... nothing, Mabel," Ford drawled. "Nothing at all."

Dipper appeared in the doorway a few moments later. "Don't play dumb, Grunkle Ford, I heard what you were saying."

Mabel turned to look at her twin as Ford and Stan stiffened. "What were they arguing about?"

"They both want to get rid of Gompers, but Stan wants to shoot the goat, and Ford wants to install some complicated goat-defense system."

Mabel looked at her great-uncles with a bemused expression. "Seriously? That's what this is about?"

Ford's face grew red with embarrassment, while Stan rolled his eyes.

"That goat's been annoying me for too long! I say we save ourselves some trouble and use a laser."

"Stanley... No. We're not shooting the goat, and that's final," Ford insisted.

"Why not? It'll be over in a second, and your solution will take days!" Stan whined.

"Because I don't want blood to stain the carpet! Blood doesn't come out of carpets, believe me."

Mabel gaped at them. "Why can't you just agree on something!?"

Ford and Stan shrugged. "Beats me," Stanley told her.

Dipper leaned towards Mabel to whisper something in her ear. She grinned and whispered back, and they both bolted for the kitchen, leaving Stan and Ford confused.

"Welp, back to disagreeing!" Stan exclaimed.

"Nope! You're staying right there without arguing until we get back!" Mabel called. Stan gave an overdramatic sigh, but he complied.

In a few moments, Mabel entered the room again. She had a whistle wrapped around her neck. Dipper followed, with a mountain of tin cans in his arms.

Dipper began setting the cans down on the floor. They were leading to the porch and out of the shack. Once all the cans were in place, Mabel lifted the whistle to her lips.

She blowed. Hard. Gompers' ears perked up in alarm, and the goat stared at Mabel as it let out an ear-splitting bleat that didn't pair well with the already deafening whistle.

Mabel was still blowing her whistle while Ford, Stan, and Dipper covered their ears. Mabel was pointing to the cans the whole time she was blowing. In between whistling, she yelled, "Come on Gompers! We know you're hungry! Come and join eat some delicious cans!"

It was only a matter of moments when the goat stood up with a bleat. Then, slowly, Gompers began following the trail of tin cans, stopping every once in a while to gnaw on one. When the goat followed the trail to the end, the end being out the door, Dipper shut it, locking the goat out.

Dipper and Mabel then stood side-by-side with their arms crossed and smug expressions on their faces.

"See? We didn't have to shoot the goat, or spend hours trying to make a defense system," Dipper smirked.

Stan rolled his eyes, but he had a grin plastered onto his face. "Alright, I guess that worked."

"I still think a defense system would've been better," Ford mumbled. But he secretly thought that the kids' solution was better than either of the adults'.

Mabel turned to high-five Dipper. "Mission accomplished, broseph!"

"Hey, wait a minute," Stan began skeptically. "Where'd you get those cans from?"

Mabel blinked. "We definitely didn't empty your whole supply of brown-meat that you saved up for another apocalypse, and that you spent a lot of your life-savings on."

Stan growled through clenched teeth and with his hands balled into fists with anger. "Why you little..."

•••

Ford was used to hearing Mabel raising her voice. After all, she was a really hyper person who got excited over practically everything.

However, it was on rare occasions when he heard Dipper yell. Only when he was frightened, angered beyond belief, or overly-excited had Ford ever heard Dipper raise his voice. So it came as a surprise when he heard his nephew's voice above the sound of the storm one afternoon.

"Are you kidding me? Why do you keep letting him do this!?"

The voice was muffled by the pounding rain, but Ford knew that he had heard right. He cast a confused glance at Stanley, who had been sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen table besides him.

"What's he yelling about?" Stan grumbled. "Tells us not to argue, but he goes right ahead."

Then Ford heard Mabel's voice.

"It's not his fault, okay? The storm is scaring him! And plus, you can just replace all of it! I can't replace Waddles!"

Ford lifted a brow in confusion. They were arguing about Waddles?

"I never said to replace him! You just need to keep him under control!" Dipper hissed.

A crack of thunder drowned out Mabel's next words, but Ford could clearly make out Dipper's response.

"Fine! You know what, I'm done with this!"

His words were followed with pounding footsteps, somehow louder than the roaring thunder and the rattling windows. Ford heard a door open and then slam shut.

Ford cast a concerned glance in Stan's direction. Without any words, they both stood up and headed to Mabel and Dipper's attic bedroom.

They passed Dipper on the way upstairs. He was grumbling to himself and his eyes were bright with anger. His pace was quick, and Ford saw that he had something in his hands. Ford couldn't tell what it was, and Dipper didn't have his hat on. Stan and Ford decided to leave him be for now, and watched as he headed downstairs.

Ford and Stan arrived outside of the room. With only a moment's hesitation, Ford opened the door. The moment he did, he could see why Dipper had been so upset.

All of Dipper's books, along with the contents of Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons, his many notebooks, and his pens, had been either ripped, or chewed.

The culprit? The pig that was currently currently gnawing on said objects.

Mabel was sitting on the edge of her bed. She was gazing at her pig with a mixture of anger -which was probably directed at Dipper- and fondness -which was probably directed at her pig.

Mabel must have noticed her great-uncles in the doorway, but she didn't pay any attention to them until Stanley cleared his throat.

"So, uh... What happened?"

Mabel snapped her head to look at Stan. "Uhh... n-nothing..." she stammered.

Ford lifted a brow and frowned. "Mabel, this is not nothing. I heard you two yelling."

Mabel fell onto her back with a groan. "Fine, you got me... Dip is just being irrational..."

"And why's that?" Stan asked skeptically, crossing his arms.

"I dunno..." Mabel mumbled, sitting up again. "Waddles was just... hungry... I guess..."

She pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed.

"Mabel, how would you feel if something came and ruined all your stuff...?" Ford asked tentatively.

Mabel's head shot up. "Well, of course I'd feel bad, I mean- oh... oh... oh gosh..."

Her eyes darted to the floor and she sighed. "I'm sorry... I guess this bad weather's making me irrational... I guess I'd better go apologize to Dip-Dip, huh?"

Ford nodded, as did Stan. Mabel hopped off her bed, about to run after her brother, before she froze. "Where did Dipper go, anyways...?"

Ford exchanged glances with Stan. Then he looked back at Mabel. "I don't actually know... we saw him head downstairs, but I don't know where he is now..."

Mabel frowned harder. "I need to find him, though!"

"Aww, don't worry, kiddo! We'll find your nerdy bro," Stan insisted.

Ford rubbed his chin in thought. "Let's check downstairs."

The others nodded, Mabel with a saddened expression, as they headed down the stairs. After that, they looked around the house, still looking for Mabel's twin. They did this for about fifteen minutes. It was only a matter of time when they ended up in the living room, the only room they hadn't checked.

"Diiiiiiipperrrrrrrr," Mabel called with her hands cupped around her mouth. "Where are you?"

There was no response. The only sound that followed was the rain and the thunder.

Stan scratched the back of his head. "I don't understand. We've checked the entire shack! Where could the kid be?"

"Is it possible that he went outside?" Ford suggested.

"In this weather?" Stan scoffed. "He'd have to be crazy!"

Mabel gave a deep sigh. "Well, he's not here, so I guess it's worth checking out..."

Stan groaned. "Alright, fine. But I'm not going out there without a jacket..."

•••

Ford shielded his eyes from the rain with his polydactyl hands. The others stood around him, shivering. The rain was practically ice-cold.

"Dipping-Sauce! Where are you?"

When Ford heard a voice, he thought it was just the sound of the rain playing tricks on him, but then he realized it was Dipper's.

"Go away, Mabel..." Dipper mumbled. It was so quiet, Ford was surprised he had even heard it.

Ford couldn't tell where the voice was coming from at first. But then he looked up.

Dipper was sitting on the roof. His eyelids were shut tightly and his arms were wrapped around his chest. It was clear he was shivering, and his mouth was bent downwards in a frown.

Ford realized that Dipper wasn't wearing his hat. It was strange, as Ford had learned that Dipper rarely took his hat off. And since it was raining, he was all the more confused.

Stan was probably as puzzled as Ford, because he yelled up at Dipper. "Where's your hat, kiddo?"

Dipper's eyes shot open. It seemed that he just noticed that it wasn't just Mabel outside, but his great-uncles, too. Dipper didn't respond for a moment. Then, very slowly, he leaned to the side, grabbed something in his hands, and threw it down to the three that were waiting on the ground below.

Ford caught it in his hands. He narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what it was. His breath caught in his throat when he figured out what it was.

It was Dipper's hat. It was torn almost beyond recognition, ripped apart and tattered.

Mabel buried her face into her hands. "Oh gosh... It was Waddles, wasn't it..." she murmured to herself. Then she looked up and raised her voice. "Dipper, I'm sorry! I'll try to control Waddles, but please come down!"

Dipper still didn't respond with words. Or anything. He just sat there, with his breathing slow and rain pouring down on him. He closed his eyes after a moment.

"Bro-bro! Come down!" Mabel repeated.

Dipper very slowly opened his eyes, but only to slits. He opened his jaw haltingly. When he spoke next, the words were slurred together and quiet.

"Ican'tnocan'twon'tcomedownwon'tcomedownwhyshouldIcomedownwhyshouldIcomeIwon'tcomedown..."

He shook his head slowly as he spoke, shivering violently as he did. His slitted eyes were glazed with confusion.

"Dipper!? What's wrong? Come down!" Mabel called worriedly.

Ford's blood then ran cold from the chill of the rain and with fear. He realized what was wrong. It all added up; the shivering, the slurred and mumbled speech, the confusion, his shallow breathing, and the fact that he'd been out in the freezing rain for more than fifteen minutes with nothing more than a vest and a t-shirt...

Dipper was suffering from hypothermia. He shouldn't have been out in the rain for this long, and definitely not without proper cover from it.

"Listen to me very closely," Ford murmured to Stan and Mabel. "He has hypothermia. He doesn't completely know what's going on. His self-awareness is low, and if he does try to come down, he'll be too uncoordinated, and there's a high chance he'd fall off..."

Mabel's eyes widened and turned to stare in disbelief at Dipper while Ford continued.

"We need to get him down ourselves; if he tries, like I said, he'd probably slip, and..."

Ford didn't want to say that he might break his bones, neither did he want to say that there was a chance that Dipper could die. He also didn't mention that if they didn't get him inside soon, he'd die from that, too.

"We need to find a way to get up there and get him down. When we reach him, we need to bring himself inside gently. Any sudden movements while in contact with him, and too many, can trigger cardiac arrest."

Mabel bit her lower lip. "We need to hurry! Broseph, I'm coming!"

Dipper's eyes shot open and he shook his head violently.

"Nodon'tcomeupjustdon'tcomeupstayawayawayawaydon'tcomeup..." he mumbled, shivering all the while.

Ford gestured towards the door, and the three ran inside the shack. Mabel ran in front of the two elders as she led the way into the gift-shop. She uncovered the curtain that concealed the ladder to the roof, and climbed up it with no hesitation. Stan and Ford followed. Mabel opened the trapdoor that led onto the roof and emerged.

The wind was violent here. Rain poured down, colder here than it was at ground-level. Mabel led the way, again, over the top of the roof, slipping a bit as she did.

They reached the other side of the roof. Sure enough, Dipper was there, his limbs shaking and his breathing shallow.

"Dipper?" Mabel whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the rain. Dipper's eyes slowly opened, and he turned his head.

He stumbled to his feet. Confusion and fear flitted in his glazed, slitted eyes. As Mabel, Ford, and Stan stepped slowly towards him, he took a few steps backwards...

Dangerously close to the edge of the roof.

He shook his head. And mumbled in slurred speech again.

"Nononononononononogoawaygoawaynononogoawaystayawayawayaway..."

He continued muttering, his legs shaking as he took a few more steps back.

"Mabel," Ford whispered, "you need to very slowly and very gently grab him and bring him away from the edge... Remember, no sudden movements."

Mabel nodded with her mouth open as she slowly approached her twin.

Abruptly, Dipper stopped shivering, and his pupils became dilated and wide. Ford knew what this meant. It was getting worse. Dipper turned his head to look at the ground behind him. Then he turned his head again to look at the three, his pupils still wide, unfocused, and glazed. Then he shook his head.

"It'ssaferonthegroundit'ssaferbettersaferneedtogodowndowndowngodown..."

He took a few more steps backwards, so that he was only centimeters away from the edge of the roof. Alarm and panic flashed in Mabel's gaze. "No... Don't... Dipper, no, stop!"

He ignored her, still stepping backwards and mumbling. Mabel shot her arm towards him and grabbed him by his arm. He flinched slightly, but many moments after her movement.

And then his eyes dulled and he collapsed as his legs buckled. Ford rushed forwards to grab him by his other arm as he drifted into unconsciousness, and Ford felt Dipper's pulse.

It was faint. Stan stepped forwards to take Dipper's other arm from Mabel, and she watched with worry sparkling in her gaze as they carried him over the roof.

"I'm sorry, Dipper," she whispered. "Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay..."

Ford looked at her with determination in his eyes. "He will be okay..."

Mabel wiped the mixture of rain and tears from her face. "A-are you sure?" she stuttered.

Ford nodded. "I'm sure."

Well, there you go. Hope it was as good as it sounded in my head... Sorry I'm not including the treatment for Dipper's hypothermia. I think this one-shot is long enough already.

Hope you enjoyed!